 6. The Life and Adventures of James P. Beckworth, Mountaineer, Scout, and Pioneer, and Chief of the Crow Nation of Indians. Written from his own dictation by T. D. Bonner. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. After cashing our Peltryan goods by burying them in safe places, we received instructions from our general to rendezvous at the Sock by the 1st of July following. Bitting each other adieu, for we could hardly expect we should meet again, we took up our different lines of march. Our party consisted, led by one clements, of six, among whom was the boy Baptiste. He always insisting on remaining with his brother, as he called me. Our route was up the river, a country that none of us had ever seen before. Where the foot of the white man had seldom, if ever, left its print. We were very successful in finding beaver as we progressed, and we obtained plenty of game for the wants of our small party. Wherever we hold up a trap, we usually found a beaver, besides a considerable number we killed with the rifle. In moving up the river we came to a small stream, one of the tributaries of the Green River, which we named Horse Creek, in honor of a wild horse we found on its banks. The creek abounded with the objects of our search, and in a very few days we succeeded in taking over one hundred beavers, the skins of which were worth ten dollars per pound in St. Louis. Sixty skins, wind dried, formed a pack of one hundred pounds. After having finished our work on Horse Creek, we returned to the main river, and proceeded on, meeting with very good success, until we encountered another branch, which we subsequently named Labrash Creek, from our comrade who was murdered by the Indians. Our success was much greater here than at any point since leaving the Suck, and we followed it up until we came to the deep canyon in which we encamped. The next day, while the men were variously engaged about the camp, happening to be in a more elevated position than the others, I saw a party of Indians approaching within a few yards, evidently unaware of our being in their neighborhood. I immediately shouted, Indians, Indians, to your gunsmen, and leveled my rifle at the foremost of them. They held up their hands saying, Bueno, Bueno, meaning that they were good or friendly, at which my companions cried out to me, Don't fire, don't fire, they are friendly, they speak Spanish. But we were sorry afterward we did not all shoot. Our horses had taken a fright at the confusion that ran up the canyon. Baptiste and myself went and pursued them. When we came back with them we found sixteen Indians sitting around our camp smoking, and jabbering their own tongue, which none of us understood. They passed the night and next day with us in apparent friendship. Thinking this conduct assumed, from the fact that they rather overdid the thing, we deemed it prudent to retrace our steps to the open prairie, where, if they did intend to commence an attack upon us, we should have a fair chance of defending ourselves. Accordingly we packed up and left, all the Indians following us. The next day they continued to linger about the camp. We had but slight suspicion of their motives, although for security we kept constant guard upon them. From this they proceeded to certain liberties, which I hear strictly caution all our immigrants and mountaineers against ever permitting. Such as handling our guns, except for the arms of the guard, piling them, and then carrying them together at length one of the Indians shouldered all the guns and, starting off with them, ran fifty yards from camp. Mentioning to my mates I did not like the maneuvers of these fellows. I started after the Indian and took my gun from him. Baptiste doing the same, and we brought them back to camp. Our companions chided us for doing so, saying we should anger the Indians by doubting their friendship. I said I considered my gun as safe in my own hands as in the hands of a strange savage. If they chose to give up theirs, they were at liberty to do so. When night came on we all lay down except poor Labrash, who kept guard having an Indian with him to replenish the fire. Some of the men had fallen asleep, lying nearby, when we were all suddenly startled by a loud cry from Labrash and the instant report of a gun, the contents of which passed between Baptiste and myself, who both occupied one bed, the powder burning a hole in our upper blankets. We were all up in an instant and Indian had seized my rifle, but I instantly wrenched it from him. Though, I acknowledge, I was too terrified to shoot. When we had in some measure recovered from our sudden fright, I hastened to Labrash and discovered that a tomahawk had been sucking his head and there remained. I pulled it out and in examining the ghastly wound, buried all four fingers of my right hand in his brain. We bound up his head, but he was a corpse in a few moments. Not an Indian was then to be seen, but we well knew they were in the bushes close by and that in all probability, we should everyone share the fate of our murdered comrade. What to do now was the universal inquiry. With the butt of my rifle, I scattered the fire to prevent the Indians making a sure mark of us. We then proceeded to pack up with the utmost dispatch and tending to move into the open prairie where if they attacked us again, we could at least offend ourselves, not withstanding our disparity of numbers, we being but five to 16. On searching for Labrash's gun, it was nowhere to be found. The Indian who had killed him having doubtless carried it off. While hastily packing our articles, I very luckily found five quivers well stocked with arrows, the bows attached together with two Indian guns. These well supplied are missing rifle for I had practiced so much with bow and arrow that I was considered a good shot. When in readiness to leave, our leader inquired in which direction the river lay. His agitation had been so great that his memory had failed him. I directed the way and desired every man to put the animals upon their utmost speed until we were safely out of the willows, which order was complied with. While thus running the gauntlet, the balls and arrows whizzed around us as fast as our hidden enemies could send them. Not a man was scratched, however, though two of our horses were wounded, my horse having received an arrow in the neck and another being wounded near the hip, both slightly pursuing our course. We arrived soon in the open ground where we considered ourselves comparatively safe. Arriving in a small rise on the prairie, I suggested to our leader that this would be a good place to make a stand. For if the Indians followed us, we had the advantage in position. No, said he, we will proceed on to New Mexico. I was astonished at his answer. Well knowing, though, but slightly skilled in geography, that New Mexico must be many hundred miles farther south. However, I was not captain and we proceeded. Keeping the return track, we found ourselves in the afternoon of the following day about 60 miles from the scene of murder. The assault had been made as we afterward learned by three young Indians who were ambitious to distinguish themselves in the minds of their tribe by the massacre of an American party. We were still descending the banks of the Green River, which is the main branch of the Colorado, when, about the time mentioned above, I discovered horses in the skirt of the woods on the opposite side. My companions pronounced them buffalo, but I was confident they were horses, because I could distinguish white ones among them. Proceeding still farther, I discovered men with the horses. My comrades still confident I was an error. Speedily, however, they all became satisfied of my correctness, and we formed the conclusion that we had come across a party of Indians. We saw by their maneuvers that they had discovered us, for they were then collecting all their property together. We held a short council, which resulted in determination to retreat toward the mountains. I, for one, was tired of retreating and refused to go farther. Baptiste joining me in my resolve. We took up a strong position for defense, being a place of difficult approach and having our guns in ammunition and abundance of errors for defense. Considering our numbers, we felt ourselves rather a strong garrison. The other three left us to our determination to fall together and took to the prairie. But, changing mind, they returned and rejoined us in our position, deeming our means of defense better in one body than when divided. We all, therefore, determined to sell our lives as dearly as possible should the enemy attack us, feeling sure that we could kill five times our number before we were overpowered and that we should, in all probability, beat them off. By this time, the supposed enemy had advanced toward us, and one of them hailed us in English as follows. Who are you? We are trappers. What company do you belong to? General Ashley's. Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! They all shouted, and we, in turn, exhausted our breath and replying. Is that you, Jim Beckworth, said a voice from the party? Yes, is that you, Kostanga? I replied. He answered in the affirmative, and there arose another hurrah. We inquired where their camp was. They informed us that was two miles below at the fort. Baptiste and myself mounted our horses, descended the bank, plunged into the river, and were soon exchanging salutations with another of the general's old detachments. They also had taken us for Indians and had gathered in their horses while we took up our position for defense. The night was spent in general rejoicing and relating our adventures and recounting our various successes and reverses. There is as much heartfelt joy experienced in falling in with a party of fellow trappers in the mountains as is felt at sea when, after a long voyage, a friendly vessel just for port is spoken and boarded. In both cases, a thousand questions are asked, all have wives, sweethearts or friends to inquire after, and then the general news from the states is taken up and discussed. The party we had fallen in with consisted of 16 men. They had been two years out and left Fort Yellowstone only a short time previously, and were provided with every necessity for a long excursion. They had not seen the general and did not know he was in the mountains. They had lost some of their men who had fallen victims to the Indians, but in trapping had been generally successful. Our little party also had done extremely well, and we felt great satisfaction in displaying to them seven or eight packets of 60 skins each. We related to them the murder of Labrash and every trapper boiled with indignation of the recital. All wanted instantly to start in pursuit and revenge upon the Indians the perpetration of their treachery. But there was no probability of overtaking them and they suffered their anger to cool down. The second day after our meeting, I proposed that the most experienced mountaineers of their party should return with Baptista myself to perform the burial rites of our friend. I proposed three men with ourselves as sufficient for the 16 Indians in case we should fall in with them. And they would certainly be enough for the Aaron if we met no one. My former comrades were too tired to return. We started and arrived at our unfortunate camp, but the body of our late friend was not to be found, though we discovered some of his long black hair clotted with blood. On raising the traps which we had set before our precipitate departure, we found a beaver in every one except four, which contained each leg the beavers having amputated them with their teeth. We then returned to our companions and moved on to Willow Creek, where we were handy to the caches of our rendezvous at the Sock. It was now about June 1st, 1822. Here we spent our time very pleasantly, occupying ourselves with hunting, fishing, target shooting, foot racing, gymnastic and sundry other exercises. The other detachments now came in bringing with them quantities of peltry, all having met with very great success. End of Chapter 6 Chapter 7 The Life and Adventures of James P. Beckworth Mountaineer, Scout and Pioneer and Chief of the Crow Nation of Indians, written from his own dictation by T.D. Bonner. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Sitting in camp one beautiful summer morning. For the month of June is always lovely in northern latitudes. An Indian lass stepped up to me and wished me to kill a deer or an antelope and bring her the brains. Wherewith to dress a deer skin, offering me in compensation a handsome pair of moccasins. Thinking to save two dollars by a few minutes exertion, I took my rifle and alone left camp. After traveling two miles, I obtained sight of a fine antelope, which had also seen me and kept himself at a respectable distance. In following him up to get a fair shot, I at length found myself about 10 miles from camp, with small prospect of getting either brains or moccasins. While among the wild sage, still trying to approach the antelope, I observed a horse and rider coming in my direction. Feeling satisfied that the rider was an Indian, I at once made up my mind to run no farther after the antelope, but to shoot him and take his brains to the squaw, as she would know no difference. I therefore concealed myself in this age until he should come within range of my rifle. Becoming impatient at length, at his tardy approach, I erased my head to take a look when, to my utter astonishment, I saw General Ashley in the act of mounting his horse at a few paces distance. He had stopped to adjust something belonging to a saddle, and to this trifling circumstance he was indebted for his life. On seeing who it was, I became so excited at the narrow escape he had made, that my rifle fell from my hand. If I had shot him, it being well known in camp that I was not entirely reconciled to him, I should most undoubtedly have been charged with his murder. I told the general of the narrow escape he had just made. He was surprised at my mistaking him for an Indian, and inquired if I did not know that they never traveled singly. I then inquired after his health, and the success he had met with, and then related to him our own losses and success generally. He inquired where the camp was. I told him it was close at hand. In conducting the general tither, he pronounced my close at hand rather distant. Arrived at camp, the general related their adventures in descending the Green River over the rapids, through the sucking cannon, and the following narrative. We had a very dangerous passage down the river, and suffered more than I ever wish to see men suffer again. You are aware that we took but little provisions with us, not expecting that the cannon extended so far. In passing over the rapids, where we lost two boats and three guns, we made use of ropes and letting down our boats over the most dangerous places. Our provisions soon gave out. We found plenty of beaver in the cannon for some miles, and expecting to find them in as great plenty all the way, we saved none of their carcasses, which constituted our food. As we proceeded, however, they became more and more scarce until there were none to be seen, and we were entirely out of provisions. To retrace the river was impossible, and to ascend the perpendicular cliffs, which hemmed us in on either side, was equally impossible. Our only alternative was to go ahead. After passing six days without tasting food, the men were weak and disheartened. I listened to all their murmurings and heart-rending complaints. They often spoke of home and friends, declaring they would never see them more. Some spoke of wives and children whom they dearly loved, and who must shortly become widows and orphans. They had toiled, they said, through every difficulty, had risked their lives among wild beasts and hostile Indians in the wilderness, all which they were willing to undergo. But who could bear up against actual starvation? I encouraged them all in my power, telling them that I bore an equal part in their sufferings, that I too was toiling for those I loved, and whom I yet hope to see again. That we should all endeavor to keep up our courage, and not add to our misfortunes by giving away to despondency. Another night was passed amid the barren rocks. The next morning, the fearful proposition was made by some of the party for the company to cast lots, to see which should be sacrificed to afford food for the others, without which they must inevitably perish. My feelings at such a proposition cannot be described. I begged of them to wait one day more, and make all the way they could meanwhile. By doing so, I said, we must come to a break in the cannon, where we could escape. They consented, and moving down the river as fast as their current would carry us, to our inexpressible joy, we found a break, and a camp of trappers therein, all now rejoiced that they had not carried out their fearful proposition into effect. We had fallen into good hands, and slowly recruited ourselves with the party, which was under the charge of one provo, a man with whom I was well acquainted. By his advice, we left the river and proceeded in a northwesterly direction. Provo was well provided with provisions and horses, and he supplied us with both. We remained with his party until we arrived at the Great Salt Lake. Here I fell in with a large company of trappers, composed of Canadians and Heracoy Indians, under the command of Peter Ogden, in the service of the northwest fur company. With this party I made a very good bargain, as you will see when they arrive at our camp, having purchased all their peltry on very reasonable terms. The general concluded his narrative, and was congratulated by all present on his safe arrival. We were all rejoiced to hear that, during an absence of six or seven weeks, he had not lost a man. We then proceeded to uncash our goods, which we had buried at the Suck, and prepared to move up the river to a point where the Canadians and Indians had engaged to meet him with their peltry. The general appointed me captain of a party to meet the Canadians, and escorted them to the rendezvous which he had proposed to them. While he and some few others remained to bring up the goods, consisting of flour, sugar, coffee, blankets, tobacco, whiskey, and all other articles necessary for that region. They were at this time assembled at our camp about two hundred men, besides many women and children, for many of the Frenchmen were accompanied with a squaw. I took with me eighty men, with their women, children, and effects, leaving for the general a strong guard of one hundred and twenty men, to escort the goods up the river. Two days after we had started, being about a mile from the river, we stopped to dress a buffalo. While resting, a party of four hundred Indians passed at full speed between us and the river, driving a large number of horses. We mounted with all haste and started after them, but not in time to recapture the whole of the horses, which they had just stolen or, rather, forced from the general in the presence of his men. We fired on the Indians, and after a smart skirmish in which I received an arrow in the left arm, we recaptured twenty-seven of the animals, the Indians running off the remainder, amounting to seventy or eighty head. A severe loss, for we needed them to carry our peltry. We found three dead Indians on the field, whom we scalped, leaving them for the wolves to feed on. I ordered a camp to be formed, wherein to leave the women and children, with a guard, and then, mustering all the horses, we took the return track to the camp, fearing that the party had been surprised and perhaps all massacred. On the road we met a party which the general had dispatched to us, he having similar apprehensions in regard to us. They informed us that the Indians had broken in upon them in broad daylight, unawares and stampeded one hundred head of horses. That two of their men were wounded, of whom Sublet, since well known to the western people, was one. It seems he was with the horses at the time the Indians rushed in upon them. He fired at one, but missed them, then clubbing his piece he struck the Indian, nearly knocking him off his horse. The Indian rallied again and fired at Sublet, wounding him slightly. Both the wounded men were doing well. Arrived at the camp, we related our exploit to the general. He was overjoyed to hear that we had recaptured so many horses without the loss of a single man. This was my first engagement with Indians in the capacity of officer, and never did general Scott or Taylor feel more exaltation at their most signal triumph than did I in this trifling affair, where a score or so of horses were captured at the expense of myself and two of my men receiving slight wounds. We all moved on together, feeling ourselves a match for a thousand Indians should they dare to assail us. On arriving at the rendezvous, we found the main body of the Salt Lake Party already there with the whole of their effects. The general would open none of his goods, except tobacco, until all had arrived, as he wished to make an equal distribution, for goods were then very scarce in the mountains and hard to obtain. When all had come in, he opened his goods, and there was a general jubilee among all at the rendezvous. We constituted quite a little town, numbering at least 800 souls, of whom one half were women and children. There were some among us who had not seen any groceries, such as coffee, sugar, etc., for several months. The whiskey went off as freely as water, even at the exorbitant price he sold it for. All kinds of sports were indulged in with a hardiness that would astonish more civilized societies. The general transacted a very profitable trade with our Salt Lake friends. He purchased all their beaver, of which they had collected a large quantity, so that, with his purchases, and those of our own collection, he had now 191 packs, all in excellent order, and worth a thousand dollars per pack in St. Louis. There lay the general's fortune in one immense pile, collected at the expense of severe toil, privation, suffering, peril, and, in some cases, loss of life. It was supposed the general was indebted in the mountains and elsewhere to the amount of seventy-five thousand dollars. The skins he had purchased of the Northwest Company and free trappers had cost him comparatively little. If he should meet with no misfortune on his way to St. Louis, he would receive enough to pay all his debts and have an ample fortune besides. In about a week, the general was ready to start for home. The packs were all arranged. Our Salt Lake friends offered him the loan of all the horses he wanted and engaged to escort him to the head of Wind River, one of the branches of the Yellowstone. The number selected to return with the general was twenty men, including my humble self. Thirty men were to accompany us as a guard and to return the horses we had borrowed. The night previous to our departure, I and my boy Baptiste were sleeping among the packs, as were also some of the other men, when the sentinel came to me to tell me that they had seen something which he believed to be Indians. I arose and satisfied myself that he was correct. I sent a man to acquaint the general at the same time waking the boy and two men near me. We noisily raised ourselves, took as good aim as possible and, at a signal for me, all four fired. We saw two men run. By this time the whole camp was aroused. The general asked me what I had fired at. I told him I believed an Indian. Very good said he. Whenever you see an Indian about the camp at night, you do right to shoot him. Our whole force was on guard from that time till the morning, when we discovered two dead Indians lying where we had directed our aim in the night. We knew they had been killed by our guns, for the other two men fired with shotguns loaded with buckshot. One had been killed with a ball through the arm and body. The other was shot through the head. We had first opposed that the two Indians belonged to the Blackfeet, but we subsequently found they were crows. One of them wore a fine pair of buckskin leggings, which I took from him and put on myself. We started with an escort of 50 men, following the Wind River down to the Yellowstone, where we built our boats to descend the river. On the sixth day after leaving camp, while we were packing our effects for an early start, the alarm of INDIANS was given and, on looking out, we saw an immense body of them, well mounted, charging directly down upon our camp. Every man seized his rifle and prepared for the living tornado. The general gave orders for no man to fire until he did. By this time the Indians were within half pistol shot. Greenwood, one of our party, pronounced them crows and called out several times not to shoot. We kept our eyes upon our general. He pulled trigger, but his gun missed fire, and our camp was immediately filled with their warriors. Most fortunate was it for us that the general's gun did miss fire, for they numbered over a thousand warriors, and not a man of us would have escaped to see the Yellowstone. Greenwood, who knew the crows, acted as interpreter between our general and the Indian chief, whose name was Apsaroka Betsetsa, Sparrowhawk Chief. After making numerous inquiries about our success in hunting, the chief inquired through the interpreter where we were from. From Green River was the reply, You killed two black feet there. Yes? Where are their scalps? My people wish to dance. Don't show them, cried Greenwood us. Turning to the Indian, we did not take their scalps. Ah, that is strange. During this colloquy I had buried my scalp in the sand and concealed my leggings, knowing they had belonged to a crow. The chief gave orders to his warriors to move on, many of them keeping with us on our road to their camp, which was but a short distance off. Soon after reaching there, an Indian woman issued from a lodge and approached the chief. She was covered with blood and crying in the most piteous tones, addressed the chief, These are the men that killed my son on Green River, and you will not avenge his death. She was almost naked and, according to their custom, when a near relative is slain, had inflicted wounds all over her body and token of her deep mourning. The chief, turning to the general, then said, The two men that were killed in your camp were not black feet, but my own warriors. They were good horse thieves and brave men. One of them was a son of this woman, and she is crying for his loss. Give her something to make her cease her cries, for it angers me to see her grief. The general chairfully made her a present of what things he had at hand, to the value of about fifty dollars. Now, said the chief to the woman, Go to your lodge and cease your crying. She went away seemingly satisfied. During the day two other Indians came to the encampment, and, displaying each a wound, said, See here what you white people have done to us. You shot us. White people shoot good in the dark. These were the two whom we had seen run away after our night discharge on the green river. They had been wounded by the other two men's shotguns, but their wounds were not serious. They said that their intention had been to steal our horses, but our eyes were too sharp for them. The general distributed some farther presents among these two men. Happening to look among their numerous horses, we recognized some that had been stolen from us at the time the general was sick, previous to our discovery of the green river. The general said to the chief, I believe I see some of my horses among yours. Yes, we stole them from you. What did you steal my horses for? I was tired with walking. I had been to fight the black feet and, coming back, would have called at your camp. You would have given me tobacco, but that would not carry me. When we stole them they were very poor. They are now fat. We have plenty of horses. You can take all that belong to you. The chief then gave orders for them to deliver up all the horses taken from our camp. They brought in 88, all in excellent condition, and delivered them up to the general who was overjoyed at their recovery, for he had never expected to see his horses again. On our issuing from their camp, many of the Indians bore us company for two days until we came to a pass in the mountains called Bad Pass, where we encamped. Several of the party, being out with their guns searching for game, a man by the name of Baptiste, not the boy, having a portion of a buffalo on his horse, came across a small stream flowing near the trail when he halted to get a drink. While stooping the drink, a grizzly bear sprang upon him and lacerated him in a shocking manner. Passing that way, I came across his dismounted horse and, following his tracks down to the river, discovered the poor fellow with his head completely flayed and several dangerous runes in various parts of his body. I quickly gave the alarm and procured assistance to carry him to the camp. Soon after reaching the camp, we heard a great rush of horses and, looking in the direction of the noise, perceived a party of our half-breeds charging directly toward our camp and driving before them another bear of enormous size. All the camp scattered and took to trees. I was standing by the wounded man at the time and became so terrified that I hardly knew whether I was standing on the ground or was in a tree. I kept my eye on the bear, not supposing that he would enter our camp, but he held his course directly for me. I withdrew to look for a tree, but for some reason did not climb. Every man was calling to me, to a tree, Jim, to a tree! But by this time the bear was in camp and the horseman at his heels. On his seeing the wounded man lying there all covered with blood, he made a partial halt. I profited by the incident and put a ball directly into his heart, killing his bear ship instantly. The general fired at the same moment, his ball also taking good effect. The next day we went through bad pass, carrying our wounded companion on a litter, who, notwithstanding his drudful wounds recovered. On arriving at the big horn, as it is called there, we set about preparing boats, which, after five days, were ready for launching. There were fur trappers with us, who, having made a boat for themselves, went on in advance intending to trap along down until we should overtake them. They accordingly started. When we went down, we found their boat and traps, which had been broken, but no remains of the trappers. By the appearance of the ground, it was evident that the Indians had surprised and murdered them and afterward removed their bodies. Nothing else of consequence occurred during our run down the big horn and Yellowstone to the junction of the latter with the Missouri. Thus running a distance of 800 miles in our boats. In effecting a landing at the junction of these two rivers, we unfortunately sunk one of our boats, on board of which were 30 packs of beaver skins and away they went, floating down the current as rapidly as though they had been live beavers. All was noise and confusion in a minute, the general, in a perfect ferment, shouting to us to save packs. All the swimmers plunged in after them and every pack was saved. The noise we made attracted a strong body of U.S. troops down to the river, who were in camp near the place and officers, privates and musicians lined the shore. They were under the command of General Atkinson, then negotiating a treaty with the Indians of that region on behalf of the government. General Atkinson and our general happened to be old acquaintances and when we had made everything snug and secure, we all went into camp and freely indulged in festivities. Hurrah for the mountains rung through the camp again and again. The next morning we carried all our effects from the boats to the encampment and our hunters went out in search of game. Not a day passed but we brought in great quantities of buffalo, venison, mountain sheep, etc. Of the latter we caught some very young ones alive, one of which I presented to Lieutenant now General Harney, which circumstance I have no doubt he still bears in mind. After a stay of about a week, General Atkinson furnished us a boat of sufficient size to carry all our effects and, breaking up the encampment, afforded us the pleasure of the company of all the troops under his command. We, gentlemen mountaineers, traveling as passengers at our camping places we very willingly supplied the party with game. At one of our encampments an amusing accident occurred. We were out hunting buffalo and had succeeded in wounding a bull who, furious with his wound, made with the speed of lightning directly for the camp, leaving a cloud of dust in his track. The troops, perceiving his approach, scattered in all directions as though an avalanche was bursting upon them. On went the buffalo, overturning tents, baggage and guns, leaping every impediment that arrested his course. Then, turning he plunged into the river and gained the opposite prairie, leaving more than a hundred soldiers scared half to death at his visitation. They certainly discharged their pieces at him, but for all the injury they inflicted he will probably live to a good old age. Previous to our arrival at Fort Clark we met with another serious misadventure. The boat containing all our general's effects, running on a snag, immediately sunk. Again, all our packs were afloat and General Atkinson, witnessing the accident, ordered every man overboard to save the peltry, himself setting the example. In an instant, Mountaineers, United States officers and soldiers plunged into the rescue. Fortunately, it was a shoal water, not more than waist high, and all was speedily saved. General Atkinson related a difficulty he had had with the Crow Nation in the course of a treaty with them at Fort Clark, on his way up the river. The Crows, in a battle with the Blackfeet, had taken a half-breed woman and child, whom they had captured on the Columbia River some time previously. General Atkinson ordered them to liberate the captives, which they refused to do, saying that they had taken them from their enemies, the Blackfeet, and that they clearly belonged to them. The general persisted in his demand, and the Indians refused to comply, even offering to fight about the matter. The general declined fighting that day, but desired them to come on the morrow, and he would be prepared. The next day, the Indian force presented themselves for the onset, they bringing a host of warriors. One of the chiefs visited the military camp for a talk. He had an interview with Major O'Fallon, who ordered him to give up the captives or prepare to fight. The chief boastingly replied, through Rose the interpreter, that the major's party was not a match for the Crows, that he would whip his whole army. On this, the major, who was a passionate man, drew his pistol and snapped it at the chief's breast. It missed fire, and he then struck the Indian a violent blow on the head with the weapon, inflicting a severe gash. The chief made no resistance, but remained sullen. When this occurrence reached the ears of the Indian warriors, they became perfectly infuriated, and prepared for an instant attack. General Atkinson pacified them through Rose, who was one of the best interpreters ever known in the whole Indian country. During the hubbub, the Indians spiked the general's guns with wooden spikes and stuffed them with grass. Their principal chief, Longhair, then visited the camp and addressed the general. White chief, the Crows have never yet shed the blood of the white people. They have always treated them like brothers. You have now shed the first blood, my people are angry and we must fight. The general replied, chief, I was told by my friend, the great red-haired chief, that the Crows were a good people, that they were our friends. We did not come to fight the Crows, we came as their friends. The red-haired chief, exclaimed Longhair, in astonishment. Are you his people? Yes, replied the general. The red-haired chief is a great chief, and when he hears that you have shed the blood of a crow, he will be angry and punish you for it. Go home, he added, and tell the red-haired chief that you have shed the blood of a crow, and, though our people were angry, we did not kill his people. Tell him that you saw Longhair, the crow chief, to whom he gave the red plume many winters ago. Longhair and Rose then went out and harangued the warriors, who immediately withdrew, and soon the woman and child were brought into camp. The general made them are present of a great number of guns and ammunition in abundance, at which they were highly delighted. The reader who was pursued, Luz and Clark's travels, will please to understand that the red-haired chief, spoken of above, was none other than Mr. Clark, whom the crows almost worshipped while he was among them, and who yet hold his name in the highest veneration. He was considered by them to be a great medicine man, and they supposed him lord over the whole white race. The loss of the boat being supplied, and all to rights again, we continued our course down the Missouri, still in company with the troops, until we reached Fort Lookout, where we encamped for the night. There was a trading post at this fort, belonging to the American Fur Company, in charge of Major Pitcher. The Major made General Ashley present of a large grizzly bear for a plaything, and a pretty plaything we found him before we were done with him. He was made fast with a chain to the cargo box on deck, and seemed to think himself captain. At any rate, he was more imperious in his orders than a commodore on a foreign station. He would suffer no one on deck, and seemed literally to apply the poet's words to himself. I am monarch of all I survey. My right there is none to dispute. We continued our course down the river, encamping on shore every night. We had a jovial time of it, telling stories, cracking jokes, and frequently making free with Uncle Sam's OB joyful, of which there was a great plenty for the supply of rations to the troops. The soldiers listened with astonishment to the wild adventures of the mountaineers, and would in turn engage our attention with recitals of their own experience. At length we arrived at Council Bluffs, where we remained three days, feeling ourselves almost at home, we of course had a good time at the Bluffs, and the three days passed in continual festivities. Providing ourselves with a good boat, we bated due to the troops who stayed behind at the Bluffs, and continued our descent of the river. The current of the Missouri is swift, but to our impatient minds a locomotive would have seemed too tardy in removing us from the scenes of hardship and privation we had just gone through to the homes of our friends, our sweethearts, our wives, and little ones. Those who reside in maritime places, and have witnessed the hardy tarst up ashore in their native land, can form an adequate idea of the happy return of the mountaineers from their wanderings on the plains to St. Louis, which is their great seaport, or if a pun is admissible, I may perhaps say seaport, for there we see our old friends, there we see our fun and merriment, and there we sometimes see sights. Arrived at St. Charles, twenty miles above St. Louis, the general dispatched a courier to his friends, ministers warned Dorf and Tracy to inform them of his great success, and that he would be in with his cargo the next day about noon. When we came in sight of the city, we were saluted by a piece of artillery, which continued its discharges until we landed at the market place. There were not less than a thousand persons present who hailed our landing with shouts which deafened our ears. Those who had parents, brothers and sisters, wives or sweethearts, met them at the landing, and such a rushing, crowding, pulling, hauling, weeping, and laughing I had never before witnessed. Everyone had learned our approach by the courier. My father, who had moved to St. Louis, was in the crowd, and was overjoyed to see me. He had lost a part of his property by being sure of he for other men, and I could see that age had left its traces upon him during the little time that I had been absent. Our cargo was soon landed and stored, the men receiving information that they would be paid off that afternoon at the stores of Mr.s warned Dorf and Tracy. We accordingly repaired Tither in a body to receive our pay. The full amount was counted out in silver to each man, except three, namely the Roche, Pello, and myself. To us the general gave $25 each, telling us he would see us there again. I immediately thought of my difficulty with him in the mountains, and concluded that the remainder of my pay was to be withheld on that account. We took our $25 each and went away, asking no farther questions, though we took no trouble to conceal our thoughts. Before we left the counting room, the general told us to repair to any hotel we chose and have whatever we'd like to call for until the next morning, and he would pay the bill. Accordingly we all repaired to La Berra's hotel, and had a glorious time of it. The house was thronged with our friends besides, who all felt themselves included in the general's hospitality. General Ashley called on us the next morning, and, perceiving that we had a run all night, told us to keep on another day at his expense, adding that, if we wished to indulge in a ride, he would pay for carriages. We profited by his hint, and did not fail to take into our party a good share of lasses and mountaineers. The next morning the general again visited us, and seeing we were pretty sober, paid the bill, not a trifling matter, and desired us to call on him at the store at ten o'clock. We went as appointed, not knowing yet how he would treat us. When we were assembled, he paid us our wages in full, made us a present of three hundred dollars each, and desired us to purchase a first-rate suit of clothes each at his expense. I give you this extra, he said, for your faithful services to me in the mountains, for your watchfulness over my property and interest while there, for your kindness in caring for me while sick and helpless, carrying me when I'm able to walk and not leaving me to perish in the camp alone. I forgot to mention the disembarkation of Grisly at the proper time, but we'll do so here. After the peltry was all landed and stored, the bear still occupied his station, hundreds were yet gazing at him, many of whom had never seen one of the kind before. The general said to me, James, how under the sun are we going to get that animal off the boat? I, having a few glasses of artificial courage to back me, felt exceedingly valorious and thought myself able to throw a millstone across the Mississippi. Accordingly, I volunteered to bring him ashore. I procured a light stick, walked straight up to the bear and, speaking very sharp to him, as he had to us all the way down the river, deliberately unfastened his chain. He looked at me in the eyes for a moment and, giving a low line, drooped his head. I let him off the boat along a staging prepared for the purpose, the crowd instantly falling back to a respectful distance. Landing him without accident, the general wished me to lead him to the residence of Major Biddle, distant a quarter of a mile from the landing. Courageous as ever, I let him on, though some of the time he would lead his leader. Bruin, often looking around at the crowd that was following up at a prudent distance behind. I arrived safe at the residence and made grisly fast to an apple tree that stood there. I had scarcely got to the length of his chain when he made a furious spring at me. The chain, very fortunately, was a strong one and held him fast. I then called at the Major's house and, delivering our general's compliments to him, informed him he had sent a pet for his acceptance. He inquired what kind of pet and, taking him to the tree where I had made fast the bear, I showed the huge beast to him. The Major almost quicked with fear. While we stood looking at him, a small pig happened to pass near the bear when grisly dealt him such a blow with his paw that he left him not a whole bone in his body and piggy fell dead out of the bear's reach. The Major then invited me in and, setting out some of his best, I drank his health according to the custom of those days and left to rejoin my companions. End of Chapter 7 Chapter 8 The Life and Adventures of James P. Beckworth Mountaineer, Scout and Pioneer and Chief of the Crow Nation of Indians Written from his own dictation by T. D. Bonner This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. I had been in St. Louis only one week when General Ashley came to me and desired me to return to the mountains immediately to carry dispatches to Mr. W. L. Sublett, Captain of the Trappers, and offering me the magnificent sum of $1,000 for the trip. I consented to go. La Roche and Pello were to accompany me. A journey to the mountains was then called 2,000 miles through a country considered dangerous even for an army. I left St. Louis this time with extreme reluctance. It is a severe trial to leave one's friends, but the grief of separating from father and all other relatives sank into insignificance when contrasted with the misery of separating from one in particular. One in whom all my affections were reposed and upon whom all my hopes of the future were concentrated. The contemplation of the anguish I was about to inflict by the announcement filled my heart with sorrow. One week more and the happy event that would make one of two loving hearts would have been consummated. The General's business was urgent and admitted of no delay. After I had engaged, not a day scarcely an hour was to be lost. The $1,000 I was to receive looked large in my eyes and that added to what I already possessed would the better prepare me for a matrimonial voyage. I comforted myself with the reflection that my services were confined to the mere delivering of the dispatches. That service performed I was free to return immediately. I bid my aged father farewell. It was the last time I saw him. To my other friends I said cheerfully au revoir, expecting to return to them shortly. But my greatest conflict was to come. I had encountered perils, privation, and faced death itself. I had fought savages in the wild beast of the mountains, but to approach this tender heart that had been a fiance to my own for years unmanned me. That heart that was then so light, so buoyant with hope, so full of confidence in the future, that I must plunge in utter darkness by the intelligence that in a few short hours I must leave her. Could I have communicated it to her by fighting a score of Indians? How much my pain would have been mitigated. But time was urgent, and the sacred obligation to the lady must be performed. I called on my sweetheart. She looked more lovely than ever. She remarked my troubled looks. James, she said. You look saddened. What is the matter? Are you unwell? No, Eliza. I am well. But… But what, James? What has happened? Speak! Knowing that I had no time for delay, I felt at my duty to break the news to her at once. My dear girl, I said. I have loved you long and ardently. I have waited to see if the affection which you shared with me in childhood would stand the proof of mature years. We are now both matured in years, and are capable of judging our own hearts. Through all my sufferings and dangers, my devotion to you has grown with my growth, and strengthened with my strength. We have decided on the day for our indissoluble union. But Eliza, I am yet young. My means of supporting you as I could wish are inadequate. I have just received a very tempting offer from General Ashley. What to do, James? He offers me $1,000 to carry dispatches to the mountains, which admits of my immediate return. And are you going? That is what I have come to inform you, Eliza. Understand my motive. It is solely to obtain the means to enable us to start the fairer in life. I care not for money, James, she said, bursting into a flood of tears. My heart sought relief from its overcharged feeling in the same way. I left her amid her sobs, promising to make a speedy return, and that we would part no more till death should separate us. The General had furnished us with two good saddle horses each, and one stout mule to carry our bedding. We mounted and, leaving St. Louis, were soon some miles on our journey. We proceeded up the Missouri River, left the last white settlement, and issued out into the wilderness. We proceeded with the utmost caution, always halting before dark. We built a fire and ate our supper, then moving on farther to a secure camping place. We lit no fire to avoid attracting the Indians to us. On arriving at the forks of the Platte, we held a council and resolved to follow up the north branch to its source. That's crossover to Green River. Thus striking it much higher up than we had ever been on that stream before. We proceeded accordingly, crossed Green River, and held our course to the head of Salt River. Here we found a party belonging to the General's company. Winter was now beginning to set in, and it was time for the whole company to go into winter quarters. As nearly as I can recollect, this was the end of October, 1823. A place of rendezvous had been previously agreed upon, and as it was certain that the various parties would soon assemble, I concluded to proceed to the rendezvous and wait the arrival of Sublet for the delivery of my dispatches, rather than undertake a search for him in the mountain wilderness. I and my companions therefore continued with the party until we reached the rendezvous. The parties, one after the other, came slowly in, and Sublet's was the last to arrive. It was now too late for me to return, and I had no alternative but to wait until spring. Our present rendezvous was in Cache Valley, but Sublet gave orders for all to remove to Salt Lake, which was but a few miles distant, and then go into winter quarters. We accordingly moved to the mouth of Weaver's Fork and established ourselves there. When all were collected together for the winter, our community numbered from six to seven hundred souls, from two to three hundred consisting of women and children, all strong and healthy as bears, and all having experienced very good success. Shortly after we had become well settled down, we had the misfortune to lose about eighty horses. Stolen one dark stormy night by the Poonocks, a tribe inhabiting the headwaters of the Columbia River. On missing them the next day, we formed a party of about forty men, and followed their trail on foot. The ground was covered with snow at the time. I volunteered with the rest, although fortunately my horses were not among the missing. After a pursuit of five days, we arrived at one of their villages, where we saw our own horses among a number of others. We then divided our forces, Fitzpatrick taking command of one party, and a James Bridger of the other. The plan resolved upon was as follows. Fitzpatrick was to charge the Indians and cover Bridges party while they stampeded all the horses they could get away with. I formed one of Captain Bridger's party, this being the first affair of the kind I had ever witnessed. Everything being in readiness, we rushed in upon the horses and stampeded from two to three hundred. Fitzpatrick at the same time engaging the Indians, who numbered from three to four hundred. The Indians recovered a great number of the horses from us, but we succeeded in getting off with the number of our own missing, and forty had besides. In the engagement, six of the enemy were killed and scalped, while not one of our party received a scratch. The horses we had captured were very fine ones, and our return to the camp was greeted with the liveliest demonstrations. We found, on return from the above marauding expedition, an encampment of snake Indians to the number of six hundred lodges, comprising about two thousand five hundred warriors. They had entirely surrounded us with their encampments, adding very materially to our present population. They were perfectly friendly and we apprehended no danger from their proximity. It appears this was their usual resort for spending the winter, and after pitching their lodges which are composed of skins, they proceeded to build a large medicine lodge. The word medicine, or as they call it, barchkh parchkh, signifies a prophet or dreamer, and is synonymous with the word prophet as employed in the Old Testament. The Indian form of government is a theocracy, and the medicine man is the high priest. His dreams or prophecies are sacred. If his predictions are not verified in the result, the fault is with themselves, they had disregarded some of his instructions. When by accident his dreams are exactly verified, their confidence in their prophet exceeds all belief. The medicine lodge is the tabernacle of the wilderness, the habitation of the great spirit, the sacred ark of their faith. Our long resonance with the snake tribe afforded us an excellent opportunity of acquainting ourselves with the domestic character of the Indians. They often invited us into their medicine lodge to witness their religious ceremonies and listen to their prophesies. The name of the old prophet was omogwa, which in English means woman's dress. One evening he delivered a prophecy for us. I can see, said he, white people on big shell, the Platte River. I see them boring a hole in a red bucket. I see them drawing out medicine water, whiskey. I see them fighting each other, but fate, sublet, has gone down on the other side of the river. He does not see them. He has gone to the white lodges. Where are you going? We are going, answered Fitzpatrick, to trap on bare head and the other small streams in the country of the Blackfeet. No, said the prophet. You will go to Sheep Mountain. There you will find the snow so deep that you cannot pass. You will then go down Portnif to Snake River. If you are fortunate, you will discover the Blackfeet before they see you and you will beat them. If they discover you first, they will rub you all out, kill you all. Bad hand, Fitzpatrick, I tell you, there is blood in your path this grass. If you beat the Blackfeet, you will retrace your steps and go to Bear River, whose water you will follow until you come to Sage River. There you will meet two white men who will give you news. To return to my narrative, Mr. Sublet, having left the camp in company with my old companion, Mr. Harris, before we returned, had left a letter of instructions for Fitzpatrick. Desiring him to remove our camp as early in the spring as possible, back to Cache Valley and to repair to Weaver's Lake, where he would rejoin him. Sublet and Harris had parted for St. Louis, which they reached in safety after a journey in midwinter. We spent the winter very comfortably and at the opening of spring we all moved, whites and Indians, back to Cache Valley. Soon after we arrived, we commenced digging Caches to secure 75 packs of beaver skins in the possession of our party. While digging a Cache in the bank, the earth caved in, killing two of our party who were Canadians. The Indians claimed the privilege of burying them, which ceremony they performed by hoisting them up in trees. This has ever been the method of disposing of the dead with most, if not all, of the Rocky Mountain tribes. The body is securely wrapped in blankets and robes, fastened with thongs, in which are enclosed the war implements, pipes and tobacco of the deceased. If he had been a warrior, his war horses killed and buried, together with his saddle and other implements at the foot of the same tree. One more accident occurred, which at first occasioned us considerable alarm. Before we quitted Cache Valley on our excursion, one of our men was out hunting and coming across an antelope, as he supposed, fired at the animals head and killed it. On going to cut the animals throat, to his surprise, he found he had killed one of the snake Indians. Who had put on this disguise to decoy the antelopes near him. This was an accident that we deeply lamented, as the snakes were very friendly toward us. Before the Indians discovered the accident, we held a council and resolved to make a precipitate retreat, as we felt very distrustful of the consequences. While we were preparing to start, the chief came among us, and was greatly surprised at our sudden departure. Especially as we had given him no previous notice. We excused ourselves by saying we were going to engage in hunting and trapping. He then asked what ailed us, saying we all looked terrified, and wished to know what happened. Fitzpatrick at length told him what had taken place and how it came to pass. Oh, said the chief, if that is what you are alarmed at, take off your packs and stay. The Indian was a fool to use a decoy when he knew the antelope came into the sage every day, and that the white men shoot all they see. He then made a speech to his warriors, telling them what had happened, and ordered some of his men to bring in the dead Indian. Then turning to us, he said, you and the snakes are brothers. We are all friends. We cannot at all times guard against accident. You lost two of your warriors in the bank. The snakes have just lost one. Give me some red cloth to wrap up the body. We will bury the fallen brave. We gave the chief a scarlet blanket, as he had desired, and all was well again. End of Chapter 8 Chapter 9 The life and adventures of James P. Beckworth, mountaineer, scout, and pioneer, and chief of the Crow Nation of Indians. Written from his own dictation by T. D. Bonner. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The peltry and other things not required in our expedition being all safely cast, our whole party numbering 250, besides women and children, left Cache Valley for the country of the Blackfeet, expecting to make a profitable hunt. I had engaged to the fur company for the spring hunt for the sum of $500, with the privilege of taking for a servant the widow of one of the men who had been killed in the bank. She was of light complexion, smart, trim, and active, and never tired in her efforts to please me. She seemed to think that she belonged to me for the remainder of her life. I had never had a servant before, and I found her of great service to me in keeping my clothes and repair, making my bed, and taking care of my weapons. We kept on till we came to Sheephorn Mountain, but finding it impassable for the snow, we changed our course and proceeded down the Port Knief until we arrived at its junction with the Snake River, one of the main branches of the Columbia. No trappers having proceeded us on the Port Knief, we met with excellent success all the way to the junction. A course which occupied us three weeks. An advance party arriving at the junction before the main body came up, immediately upon landing, discovered Indians coming down the Snake River. They were not perceived by the Indians, who were as yet at a considerable distance. Our whole force was soon prepared to meet them, leaving 100 men in camp, the remaining 150 marched up the river, keeping in the timber, our policy being to retain our foes in the open prairie while we kept the protection of the woods. At last they perceived us, but seeing that we had the advantage of them, they made signs of great friendship. Not wishing to be the aggressors, we contended ourselves with observing the enemy and retired toward our camp, without any hostile demonstration on either side. Seeing signal smokes arising on every side, we knew an attack on our little band was meditated by their thousands of mounted warriors. We therefore determined on a retreat as the safest course. There being many Indians about our camp, it required a strict watch to be maintained. Every man having his gun constantly in hand and the priming well looked to. We were able to converse with them as many of our men could speak their language, but they still pretended to entertain toward us feelings of the most distinguished consideration. We encamped that night, keeping a strong guard, and saw all around us as far as the eye could extend numerous signal fires. At daylight one of our men shouted, Stop the Indians! Stop the Indians! My rope is cut! On looking we found that three of our best horses had been stolen, notwithstanding our unceasing villains. The cry then passed around, The ropes are cut! Shoot them down! Shoot them down! Rifles began to crack and six of the Indians fell, five of whom were instantly scalped. For the scalps were taken off with greater ease while the bodies are warm. And the remaining Indian, having crawled into the river after receiving his wound, his scalp was lost. One of their chiefs was among the slain. He was shot in our camp before he had time to make his retreat with the others, who all ran as soon as our camp was alarmed. Not a moment was then to be lost. We knew that their signal fires would cover the whole prairie with savages, for we were in the very heart of their country. Packing up, in a few minutes we are on the retreat, which we pressed all day. We encamped the same night as the Indians did not see fit to follow us. Soon after this occurrence, a party of fur trappers, consisting of twelve men, under the charge of one Logan, left our company to try their fortune, but were never heard of afterward. Every exertion was subsequently made to obtain some clue to the cause of their disappearance, but nothing was ever learned of them. Beyond doubt, they fell victims to the treachery of the Blackfeet. Our party continued trapping up the Portnif until we came to Sheep Mountain, which we passed without difficulty, the snow having by this time disappeared. We proceeded on to Bear River and continued trapping upon that stream and its tributaries until we reached Sage River, where, very unexpectedly, and to our utter surprise, we met two white men, Black Harris and my old friend, Porter Lees. This verification of the prediction of the old chief was, to say the least, a remarkable coincidence and one not easily accounted for. Our two friends informed us that they were from St. Louis and had left General Ashley and Sublet, but a short distance in the rear. We took up our traps and moved immediately to Weaver Lake and formed a rendezvous to wait the arrival of the General and Sublet. While resting there, a party of sixteen flatheads came to our camp and informed us that there were thirty white men with women and children and camped on a creek twelve or fifteen miles distant. They stated that the party had twenty-six guns, but that their ammunition was expended. Having some splendid horses in the very best condition, I proposed to go and take them some ammunition in the event of their having need for it on their way to our camp. Provo, Jarvie and myself mounted three of our fleet of steeds and found the party in camp. As we had expected, we found they were Campbell's party, among whom were many of our personal friends. They had met with very good fortune in their crews and had lost none of their men. We encamped with them that night and escorted them to the rendezvous the next day. On our way to the rendezvous, we heard singing in our rear and, looking in the direction of the noise, we discovered a party of five hundred mounted Indians coming directly toward us. Flatheads, flatheads, was shouted and, believing them to be such, I and my two friends wheeled to go and meet them. Approaching within a short distance, to our horror and surprise, we discovered they were Blackfeet, a tribe whose prize white scalps very highly. Wishing to take us all together probably, they ordered us back and order we obeyed with alacrity and we speedily gave the alarm, placing the women and children in advance and directing them to make all speed to a patch of willows six miles in front. And there, to secure themselves, we formed to hold the Indians in check. The women made good time, considering the jaded state of their animals, for they were all accustomed to horseback riding. By this time the Indians had commenced charging upon us, not so furiously as was their want, but they doubtless considered their prey shore and farther did not care to come into too close proximity to our rifles. Situated as we were, it was impossible for them to surround us, for we had a lake on one side and a mountain on the other. They knew, however, that we must emerge into the open country where their chance of attack would be improved. When they approached too near, we used our rifles and always with effect. Our women the meanwhile urging on their animals with all the solicitude of mothers who knew that capture was certain death to their offspring. The firing continued between both parties during the whole time of our retreat to the willows. In fact, it was a running fight through the whole six miles. On the way we lost one man who was quite old. He might have saved himself by riding to the front, and I repeatedly urged him to do so, telling him that he could not assist us, but he refused even to spur on his horse when the Indians made their charges. I tarried with him, urging him on until I found it would be certain death to delay longer. My horse had scarcely made three leaps in advance when I heard him cry, Oh God, I am wounded! Wheeling my horse, I called on my companions to save him. I returned to him and found an arrow trembling in his back. I jerked it out and gave his horse several blows to quicken his pace. But the poor old man reeled and fell from his steed, and the Indians were upon him in a moment to tear off his scalp. This delay nearly cost two more lives. For myself and Jarvie were surrounded with the black feet, and their triumphant yells told us they felt certain of their prey. Our only chance of escape was to leap a slew fifteen feet from bank to bank, which we faulted over at full speed. One Indian followed us, but he was shot in the back directly upon reaching the bank, and back he rolled into the ditch. We passed around the slew in order to join our companions, but in doing so were compelled to charge directly through a solid rank of Indians. We passed with the rapidity of pigeons escaping without any damage to ourselves or horses, although a shower of arrows and bullets whistled all around us. As we progressed, their charges became more frequent and daring. Our ammunition now grew very short, and we never used a charge without we were sure of its paying for itself. At length we gained the willows. If our ammunition had been plenty, we would have fought them here as long as they might have wished. When all was gone, what were we to do with an enemy more than ten times our number, who never grants or receives quarter? Iroquois proposed one bold charge for the sake of the women and children. Let us put our trust in God, he exclaimed, and if we are to die, let us fall in protecting the defenseless. They will honor our memory for the bravery they witnessed. Sixteen of us accordingly mounted our horses, leaving the remainder to hold out to the last. Iroquois led the charge. In our fierce onset we broke through two ranks of mounted Indians, killing and overturning everything in our way. Unfortunately, my beautiful horse was killed in his tracks, leaving me alone amid a throng of Indians. I was wounded with an arrow in the head, the scar of which, with many other wounds received since, I shall carry to my grave. My boy Baptiste, seeing my danger, called upon his comrades to assist him to save his brother. They charged a second time, and the Indians who surrounded me were driven back. At that moment, Baptiste rode up to me. I sprang on the saddle behind him, and retreated in safety to the willows. The foes still pressed us sorely, but their shots produced little effect, except to cut off the twigs of the bushes which formed our hiding place. As for charging in upon us, they showed some disinclination. To hold out much longer was impossible. Immediate assistance must be had, and it could come from no other place than our camp. To risk a message there seemed to subject the messenger to inevitable death. Yet the risk must be encountered by someone. Who will go? Who will go? was asked on all sides. I was wounded, but not severely, and at a time so pressing, I hardly knew that I was wounded at all. I said, Give me a swift horse, and I will try to force my way. Do not think I am anxious to leave you in your perilous position. You will run the greatest risk that day, but if you go, take the best horse. Campbell then said that two had better go, for there might be a chance of one living to reach the camp. Calhoun volunteered to accompany me if he had his choice of horses, to which no one raised any objection. Disrobing ourselves then to the Indian costume, and tying a handkerchief around our heads, we mounted horses as fleet as the wind, and bade the little band to do. God bless you, shouted the men. The women cried, The great spirit preserve you, my friends. Again we dashed through the ranks of the foe before they had time to comprehend our movement. The balls and arrows flew around us like hail, but we escaped uninjured. Some of the Indians darted in pursuit of us, but seeing they could not overtake us, returned to their ranks. Our noble steed seemed to fully understand the importance of the mission they were going on. When about five miles from the camp, we saw a party of our men approaching us at a slow gallop. We halted instantly, and, taking our saddle blank, it signaled to them first for haste, and then that there was a fight. Perceiving this, one man wheeled and returned to the camp, while the others quickened their pace and were with us in a moment, although they were a mile distant when we made the signal. They were only sixteen, but on they rushed, eager for the fray, and still more eager to save our friends from a horrible massacre. They all turned out from the camp, and soon the road was lined with men, all hurrying along at the utmost speed of the animals they bestowed. My companion and I returned with the first party, and, breaking once more through the enemy's line, rode back into the willows, amid the cheers of our companions, and the loud acclamations of the women and children, who now breathed more freely again. The Indians were surprised at seeing a reinforcement, and their astonishment was increased when they saw a whole line of men coming to our assistance. They instantly gave up the battle and commenced a retreat. We followed them about two miles into we came to the body of Bolaire, the old man that had been slain. We then returned, bringing his mangled remains with us. On our side we lost four men killed and seven wounded, not a woman or child was injured. From the enemy we took seventeen scalps, most of them near the willows. Those that we killed on the road we could not stop for. We were satisfied they had more than a hundred slain, but as they always carry off their dead, we could not ascertain the exact number. We also lost two packs of beavers, a few packs of meat, together with some valuable horses. After attending to our wounded we all proceeded to camp, where the scalp dance was performed by all the half-breeds of women, many of the mountaineers taking part in the dance. The battle lasted five hours, and never in my whole life had I run such danger of losing my life in scalp. I now began to deem myself Indian-proof, and to think I never should be killed by them. The reader will wonder how a contest could last that length of time when there were but thirty to oppose five hundred men, and we not meet with the greater loss. It is accounted for by the Indian mode of warfare. The Indian is a poor marksman with a gun, more especially on horseback, and to kill with their arrows they must be near their mark. They often shoot their arrows when their horse is in full speed, and unless they are very near their object they seldom take effect. When they hunt the buffalo their horses are trained to keep by the side of their destined victim until the arrow is discharged. Then, springing directly away, he escapes the charge of the infuriated animal, which becomes dangerous as soon as wounded. Unlike the Indians, we seldom discharged our guns unless sure of our man, for we had no ammunition to waste. Our victory was considered, under the circumstances, a glorious one, and all who participated in the battle our companions lauded to the skies. The women, too, hailed us as the bravest of the brave, knowing that we had preserved them from a captivity to which death were preferable. Two days after the battle we were again rejoined by our friends, the snakes, to the number of 4,000. They all took part in our scalp dance, and such a scene of rejoicing as we held has seldom been witnessed in the mountains. They deeply lamented that they had not come in season to take part in the battle so that not one of the Blackfeet could have escaped. Their wishes for battle, however, were soon after gratified. The absinthe parties began to arrive, one after the other at the rendezvous. Shortly after, General Ashley and Mr. Sublet came in, accompanied with 300 pack mules, well laden with goods and all things necessary for the Mountaineers and the Indian trade. It may well be supposed that the arrival of such a vast amount of luxuries from the East did not pass off without a general celebration. Murth, songs, dancing, shouting, trading, running, jumping, singing, racing, target shooting, yarns, frolic, with all sorts of extravagances that white men or Indians could invent were freely indulged in. The unpacking of the medicine water contributed not a little to the heightening of our festivities. We had been informed by Harris, previous to the arrival of the General, that General Ashley had sold out his interest in the mountains to Mr. Sublet, embracing all his properties and possessions there. He now intended to return to St. Louis to enjoy the fortune he had amassed by so much toil and suffering, and in which he had so largely shared in person. The Life and Adventures of James P. Beckworth, Mountaineer, Scout and Pioneer and Chief of the Crown Nation of Indians, written from his own dictation by T. D. Bonner. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Two days after the arrival of the General, the toxin again sounded through our whole camp. The block feet, the block feet! On they came, making the very earth tremble with the tramp of their fiery war horses. In their advance they surprised three men and two women belonging to the snakes, who were out some distance from camp, gathering roots. The whole five were instantly overtaken, killed and scalped. As soon as the alarm was given, the old prophet came to our camp and, addressing Mr. Sublet, said, Cut face! Three of my warriors and two women have just been killed by the black feet. You say that your warriors can fight, that they are great braves. Now let me see them fight, that I may know your words are true. Sublet replied, You shall see them fight, and then you will know they are all braves, that I have no cowards among my men, and that we are all ready to die for our snake friends. Now men, added he, turning to us, I want every brave man to go and fight these black feet, and whip them so that the snakes may see that we can fight, and let us do our best before them as a warning to them. Remember, I want none to join in this battle who are not brave. Let all cowards remain in camp. Every man was impatient to take part, but, seeing that his camp would be deserted, and his goods exposed, he detained quite a number, as well to guard the goods, as to keep the general company. He not wishing to take part in the battle. They were over 300 trappers mounted in a few moments, who, with Captain Sublet at their head, charged instantly on the enemy. The snake warriors were also on hand, thirsting to take vengeance on the black feet for the five scalps of their friends. After retreating before us about five miles, they formed in a place of great security in a deep hollow on the border of the lake. At our arrival, the battle recommenced in good earnest. We and our allies fought them for about six hours. They certainly displaying great intrepidity, for they would repeatedly issue from their stronghold and make a bold sortie against us. When entrenched in their position, they had a great advantage over us, as it was difficult for a man to approach them without being shot. And to charge on them as they were situated would have occasioned us great loss of life. One Indian issuing from their position was shot through the backbone, thus depriving his legs of all power of motion. Seeing him fall, Sublet said to me, Jim, let us go and haul him away and get his scout before the Indians draw him in. We went and, seizing each a leg, started toward our lines with him. The wounded Indian grasping the grass with both hands. We had to haul with all our strength. An Indian, suddenly springing over the breastwork, struck me a heavy blow in the back with his gun, causing me to lose hold of my leg and run. Both I and my companion were unharmed, and I, not knowing how many blows were to follow, deemed discretion on this particular occasion the better part of valor. Sublet made a strong demonstration against my assailant with his fists, at the same time calling me back and cursing me for running. I returned, and together we dragged the Indian to one of our men, also wounded, for him to dispatch. But the poor fellow had not strength sufficient to perforate the Indian's skin with his knife, and we were obliged to perform the job ourselves. After six hours fighting, during which time a number of the enemy were slain, we began to want nourishment. Sublet requested our allies to rub out all their foes while we went and procured refreshment. But on our leaving, they followed us, and we all arrived in camp together. On our return to the field of battle we found the Blackfeet were gone, having departed precipitately as they had left a number of their dead, a thing unusual with the Indians. The fruits of our victory were 173 scouts, with numerous quivers and arrows, war clubs, battle axes, and lances. We also killed a number of their horses, which doubtless was the reason that they're leaving so many of their dead on the field of battle. The trappers had seven or eight men wounded, but none killed. Our allies lost eleven killed in battle, besides the five slain before. But none of those killed in battle were scalped. Had this battle been fought in the open plain, but few of our foes could have escaped. And even as it was, had we continued to fight, not a dozen could have gone away. But considering that we were fighting for our allies, we did not exert ourselves. As usual on all such occasions, our victory was celebrated in camp, and the exercises lasted several days, conformably to Indian custom. General Ashley, having disposed of all his goods and completed his final arrangements, departed for St. Louis, taking with him nearly 200 packs of beaver. Previous to his departure, he summoned all the men into his presence and addressed them, as nearly as I can recollect in the following words. Mountaineers and friends, when I first came to the mountains, I came a poor man. You, by your indefatigable exertions, toils, and privations, have procured me an independent fortune. With ordinary prudence in the management of what I have accumulated, I shall never want for anything. For this, my friends, I feel myself under great obligations to you. Many of you have served with me personally, and I shall always be proud to testify to the fidelity with which you have stood by me through all danger, and the friendly and brotherly feeling which you have ever, one and all, evinced toward me. For these faithful and devoted services, I wish you to accept my thanks, the gratitude that I express to you springs from my heart, and will ever retain a lively hold on my feelings. My friends, I am now about to leave you to take up my abode in St. Louis. Whenever any of you return tither, your first duty must be to call it my house, to talk over the scenes of peril we have encountered, and per take of the best cheer my table can afford you. I now wash my hands of the toils of the Rocky Mountains. Farewell, Mountaineers and friends. May God bless you all. We were all sorry to part with the general. He was a man of untiring energy and perseverance, cheerfully enduring every toil and privation with his men. When they were short of food, he likewise hungered. He bore full share in their sufferings, and divided his last morsel with them. There was always something encouraging in his manner. No difficulty dejected him. Kind and generous in his disposition, he was loved equally by all. If, which was seldom, he had any disagreement with them, if he discovered himself in fault, he would freely acknowledge his error and ask forgiveness. Before he left he had a word of advice for me. James, he commenced, since I have been here I have heard much of your exploits. I like brave men, but I fear you are reckless in your bravery. Caution is always commendable, and especially is it necessary in encounters with Indians. I wish you to be careful of yourself, and pay attention to your health, for, with the powerful constitution you possess, you have many valuable years before you. It is my hearty desire to have you do well, and live to a good old age. Correct your fault of encountering risks for the mere ostentatious display of your courage. Whenever you return home, come and see me, James. You will be a thousand times welcome, and should you ever be in need of assistance, call on me first. Goodbye. He left the camp amid deafening cheers from the whole crowd. I did not see him again until the year 1836. At the General's departure, we broke up our camp and marched on to the country of the Flatheads, on the Snake River. On our arrival at the New rendezvous, we were rejoiced to learn that peace existed between the two nations, the Flatheads and Blackfeet, and that they were in friendly intercourse together. This was very favorable for our purpose, for it is with Indian tribes, as with civilized nations, when at war, various branches of business are impoverished, and it becomes inconvenient for those engaged in them to make more than trifling purchases, just for the supply of their immediate wants. Hostilities are still more destructive to Indian commerce than to that of civilized nations, for the reason that the time and resources of the whole community are engaged in their prosecution. The seniors of war with the Indian mean literally himself and his horse. We spent the summer months at our leisure, trading with the Indians, hunting, sporting, and preparing for the fall harvest of Beaver. We made acquaintance with several of the Blackfeet who came to the post of trade. One of their chiefs invited Mr. Sublett to establish a branch post in their country, telling him that they had many people and horses and plenty of beaver, and if his goods were to be obtained they would trade considerably. His being so far off prevented his people coming to Mr. Sublett's camp. The Indian appearing sincere and there being a prospect of opening a profitable trade, Sublett proposed to establish a post among the Blackfeet if any of the men were willing to risk their scouts in attending it. I offered to go, although I was well aware the tribe knew that I had contributed to the destruction of a number of their braves, but to the Indian, the greater the brave, the higher their respect for him, even though an enemy. So, taking my boy Baptiste and one man with me, we packed up and started for Beaver River. Which is a branch of the Missouri and in the heart of the Blackfoot country. On our arrival the Indians manifested great appearance of friendship and were highly pleased at having a trading post so conveniently at hand. I soon rose to be a great man among them and the chief offered me his daughter for a wife. Considering this an alliance that would guarantee my life as well as enlarge my trade, I accepted his offer and without any superfluous ceremony became son-in-law to Assasto, the head chief of the Blackfeet. Assasto interpreted means heavy shield. To me the alliance was more offensive than defensive, but thrift was my object more than hymenial enjoyment. Trade prospered greatly. I purchased beaver and horses at my own price. Many times I bought a fine beaver skin for a butcher knife or a plug of tobacco. After a resonance among them a few days, I had slight difficulty in my family affairs. A party of Indians came into camp one day, bringing with them three white men's scalps. The sight of them made my blood boil with rage, but there was no help for it, so I determined to wait with patience my day of revenge. In accordance with their custom a scalp dance was held, at which there was much additional rejoicing. My wife came to me with the information that her people were rejoicing and that she wished to join them in the dance. I replied, No, these scalps belong to my people. My heart is crying for their death. You must not rejoice when my heart cries. You must not dance when I mourn. She then went out, as I suppose satisfied. My two white friends, having a great curiosity to witness the performance, were looking out upon the scene. I reproved them for wishing to witness the savage joycings over the fall of white men who had probably belonged to our own company. One of them answered, Well, your wife is the best dancer of the whole party. She outdances them all. This was a sting which pierced my very heart. Taking my battle axe and forcing myself into the ring, I watched my opportunity and struck my disobedient wife a heavy blow in the head with the side of my battle axe, which dropped her as if a ball had pierced her heart. I dragged her through the crowd and left her. I then went back to my tent. This act was performed in such a bold manner under the very noses of hundreds of them, that they were thunderstruck and for a moment remained motionless with surprise. When I entered the tent, I said to my companions, There now, you would better prepare to hold on to your own scalps, since you take so much interest and a celebration over those of your murdered brethren. Their contenances turned ashy pale, expecting instant death. By this time, the whole Indian camp was in a blaze. Kill him, kill him, burn him, burn him, was shouted throughout the camp in their own language, which I plainly understood. I was collected, for I knew they could kill me but once. Soon I heard the voice of my father-in-law crying in a tone which sounded above all. Stop, hold, hold, warriors, listen to your chief. All was hushed in an instant, and he continued, Warriors, I am the loser of a daughter and her brothers have lost a sister. You have lost nothing. She was the wife of the traitor. I gave her to him. When your wives disobey your commands, you kill them. That is your right. That thing disobeyed her husband. He told her not to dance. She disobeyed him. She had no ears. He killed her. And he did right. He did as you all would have done, and you shall neither kill nor harm him for it. I promised the white chief that, if he would send a traitor to my people, I would protect him and return him unharmed. This I must do, and he shall not be hurt here. Warriors, wait till you meet him in battle or perhaps in his own camp, then kill him. But here his life is sacred. What if we kill them all and take what they have? It will last but a few sons. We shall then want more. Whom do we get suckle-potch, powder, from? We get it from the whites, and when we have expended what we have, we must do without or go to them for more. When we have no powder, can we fight our enemies with plenty? If we kill these three men, whom I have given the word of a chief to protect, the white chief will send us no more, but his braves will revenge the death of their brothers. No, no, you shall not harm them here. They have eaten of our meat and drunk of our water. They have also smoked with us. When they have sold their goods, let them return in peace. At this time there were a great many flatheads at the Blackfoot camp, as they were at peace with each other. After the speech of my father-in-law, a great brave of the flatheads, called Badhand, replied, Hey, you are yourself again. You talk well. You talk like ass-ass-toe again. We are now at peace. If you had killed these men, we should have made war on you again. We should have raised the battle-axe never to have buried it. These whites are ours, and the flatheads would have revenged their deaths if they had been killed in your camp. The chief then made a loud and long harangue, after which all became quiet. As ass-toe next came to my camp and said, My son, you have done right. That woman I gave you had no sense. Her ears were stopped up. She would not hearken to you, and you had all right to kill her. But I have another daughter, who is younger than she was. She is more beautiful. She has good sense and good ears. You may have her in the place of the bad one. She will hearken to all you say to her. Well, thought I, this is getting married again before I have even had time to mourn. But I replied, Very well, my father, I will accept of your kind offer, well-knowing at the same time that to refuse him would be to offend, as he would suppose that I disdained his generosity. My second wife was brought to me. I found her as her father had represented far more intelligent and far prettier than her other sister, and I was really proud of the change. I now possessed one that many a warrior had performed deeds of bloody valor to obtain. For it is a high honor to get the daughter of a great chief to wife, and many a bold warrior has sacrificed his life in seeking to attain such a prize. During the night, while I and my wife were quietly reposing, some person crawled into our couch, sobbing most bitterly, angry at the intrusion I asked who was there. Me answered a voice, which, although well nigh stifled with bitter sobs, I recognized as that of my other wife, whom everyone had supposed dead. After lying outside the lodge senseless for some hours, she had recovered and groped her way to my bed. Go away, I said. You have no business here. I have a new wife now, one who has sense. I will not go away, she replied. My ears are open now. I was a fool not to harken to my husband's words when his heart was crying, but now I have good sense and will always harken to your words. It did really seem as if her heart was broken, and she kept her position until morning. I thought myself now well supplied with wives, having two more than I cared to have, but I deemed it hardly worthwhile to complain, as I should soon leave the camp, wives and all. It is a universal adage, when you are among Romans, do as the Romans do. I conformed to the customs of a people really pagan, but who regarded themselves both enlightened and powerful. I was risking my life for gold, that I might return one day with plenty to share with her I tenderly loved. My body was among the Indians, but my mind was far away from them and their bloody deeds. Experience has revealed to me that civilized man can accustom himself to any mode of life when pelf is the governing principle, that power which dominates through all the ramifications of social life and gives expression to the universal instinct of self-interest. By living with the savages and becoming familiar with their deeds of injustice and cruelty, witnessing friends and companions struck down without a moment's warning. If a man has feeling, in a short time it becomes callous toward the relentless savage, who can mock the dying struggles of the white man and indulge his inhuman joy as he sees his warm life blood saturate the earth, on which, a few moments since, his victims stood erect in seeming security. Many a companion I have seen fall in the wild prairie or the mountain forest, dying with some dear name upon his lips, his body left his food for the wild beast, or his bones to whiten in the trackless wilderness. It will be said, he might have stayed at home and not have hazarded his life amid such dangers. So it might be said of the hardy mariner, whose compass guides him through all parts of the pathless ocean. The same motive impels them both on their perilous career, self-interest, which, while it gratifies their individual desires, at the same time enriches and advances society by adding its acquisitions to the mark of commerce. We left the Blackfoot country after a stay of 20 days, having purchased 39 packs of beaver and several splendid horses at a sum trifling in real value, but what they considered as far exceeding the worth of their exchanges. The chief lent us an escort of 250 mounted warriors, in addition to which nearly 100 flatheads returned with us to our camp, whom we met the second day on our road, they having become alarmed for our safety and being on the way to revenge our deaths in the event of the Blackfeet having proved treacherous. On our arrival we were greeted with the liveliest expressions of joy. Presence were made to our escort and Mr. Sublett sent my father-in-law a valuable gift for his kindness to me, and as the assurance of his most distinguished consideration. I also sent some dress patterns to my wives, in addition to the presents I had previously made them. The Blackfeet, apparently well satisfied, returned to their homes. End of chapter 10