USA > Montana > Blaine County > In the land of Chinook; or, The story of Blaine county > Part 6
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They had their dances, which would be held as soon as there were women enough to form a quadrille.
They even might indulge in the stag dance in order to keep in practice. No doubt horses were run to test their speed and, of course, there would be no interest to the onlooker unless he had a wager up as to results.
The bucking horse held out a little diversion to the onlooker but no particular fun for the chief actor-no matter what he may say to the contrary.
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JAY RHOADS.
A well-known Cowboy of Blaine County.
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I am led to believe that once in a while a little game of stud or draw-power might have been indulged in to pass away the evening in the bunkhouse, not for love of the money but for the excitement. Certainly some of the boys would go to the little town and shoot it up-but mostly up -- that is, their guns would be held at such an angle that there was no danger from the bullet unless it fell on someone. Some of them got full at times and much wordy ammunition was fired point blank at a mark which received no particular injury from the discharge.
Yes these were the cowboy days and to prove to you how they could play their pranks for the unsophisticated, I will relate a few of the incidents that have come to my notice. One of them I will put under the following caption:
How WE GOT RID OF A TENDERFOOT.
"He was a great big, finely-built fellow who had recently graduated from a Chicago college but as he had fallen off so that he did not weigh more than 220 pounds his dad thought he needed a rest cure.
"Dad went to see the Rosenbaum Brothers, the livestock commission men, and asked the senior member of the firm if he would not try and find a place where his darling could go and camp out and receive at the same time the attention due his birth.
"Rosenbaum was well acquainted with several of the mem- bers of the Bearpaw pool and wrote to Stadler and Kaufman, and others, to get their consent to allow the boy to come and accept the hospitality (?) of their cow camp. Of course a request of this kind was soon granted and the young fellow came to Chinook.
It was in the spring of the year before active operations began for roundup. George Barrows was foreman but he stayed in Chinook and allowed Jay Rhodes and Frank Owens to look out for the camp. Owens was really a bad man from Texas who had used his gun or knife with serious effect several times.
"The Chicago boy was taken to camp to become a guest, as he thought, and that the cowboys were to make his days, days of pleasure and his nights long dreams of bliss.
"The cowboys rebelled at this as it is needless to say that they could not see any good reason why they should play flunky to some one who was able to take care of himself.
"Jay happened to be in Chinook one day and he called Barrows' attention to the fact that their guest was too exacting and they did not enjoy his company. George said: 'Why don't you get rid of him in some way? Don't kill him, but make it so disagreeable for him that he will quit.'
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"The first thing they did was to take him off on the range one day and ride off and leave him and he was two days finding camp again. They would try all kinds of things but he stuck.
"Shortly after losing him on the range, Owens went to Chinook and got into trouble with a fellow and cut him severely in the abdomen. He rode back to camp expecting that the authorities might come at any time and take him, although, in this particular case, he was not the aggressor. When Chicago learned that Owens was really a bad man he began to fear him. Owens would intimate that the water bucket was empty or the fuel gone and big boy would hustle and see that they were replenished.
"Cook would come in and make a statement that breakfast was waiting and that it was time that the S- had better get up. The way they had of flying into their clothes was a caution. Jay found out that Chicago was deathly afraid of rattlesnakes. Near the camp, which was located near the Snake Creek battle field, is a rocky butte that was the den of snakes. Jay went up one evening and killed a good big fat fellow, as he wished to see how persuasive it might be in getting rid of their guest. He put it in one of Chicago's boots and as the cook was in on the play they were to be routed out in haste the next morning. In he came early and said: 'You fellows turn out in a hurry as I have a hunch that the officers are coming.' This language was couched ' in very explicit if not complimentary terms, so the boys jumped up and hurried into their clothes. Chicago thrust one of his feet into the boot that was empty and tried to get the other on but found he was not able to do so, so he turned it up and the big rattler fell at his feet in such a way that the head was toward him.
"The big fellow said: 'Oh, my God,' and fell over in a dead faint on the bunk, to be drenched by the cook with two buckets of cold water from the spring. He was brought to and told that he should act more manly in face of danger and not faint. He ordered his horse so he could go to Chinook to see the doctor before the poison could take effect. The doctor could find no evidence of a bite so the young fellow rode back to camp and packed his grip, no longer in need of a rest (?) cure in a Montana cow camp.
Another story gives the same side to the life of the cowboy.
How WE WERE DOUBLE CROSSED.
"Quite a number of years ago," Jay said, "I was foreman of the T U, which had its headquarters on Cow creek, south of the Bear's Paw mountains. I received a letter, one day, couched in
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the nicest language I ever saw, from a party who wished to get the job of cooking in our camp. The truth of it is we had a good cook and did not want to change.
"The letter went on to explain that the writer had cooked for bishops and others high in the ecclesiastical profession-and that he was not alone a concocter of special viands-but was an enter- tainer of no mean talents as he was a performer on musical instru- ments, as well as a vocalist. He hove in sight almost as soon as his letter.
"A cowman who had a horse deal on down in the breaks of the Missouri happened into camp that night with a box of cigars and a bottle of whiskey. The cigars were opened, the cork rulled and all invited to fall to and help themselves.
"The new man was asked to take a drink but he declined, saying he never indulged. Then one of the boys asked him to sing a song for their entertainment. To this he replied he could not without his music. 'Certainly you can sing something,' his tormentor said.
"So he sang 'Nearer, My God, to Thee' and 'Rock of Ages.' (Very appropriate in such a gang and at such a time.) One of the boys who was as full of hell as needs be, staggered over and requested the singer to take a drink, at the same time pouring a small amount of whiskey into a small cup that was on the table. He declined with thanks. The cowpuncher did not take kindly to this so he pulled a big gun from some place about his person and pointing it at the party asked him if he would not have a drink with him. 'Certainly I will drink,' was his reply. Several times he felt it unhealthy to refuse the drink and the same influ- ence got him to smoke his first cigar. It only required a few moments for the whiskey and cigar to work to such an extent that he could no longer hold a grip on something for which he never had a desire, so he rushed to the hitching post and in his agony called on his god to forgive him for having been compelled to become drunk through force and to forgive him for having been found in such company.
"It was now made up by the punchers that one of them, a son of one of the owners and now a prominent doctor (Treacy) of Helena should take the part of the stranger.
"When the next meal was called the young doctor requested the bad man to pass the bread, to which no attention was paid. Another request was made and the reply came back 'Go to h- you S- I wouldn't pass you anything.'
"This unwarranted assault brought forth words from each that could only be satisfied by the death of one or the other. There was only one gun in camp and that belonged to me, but the new man did not know that. There were only two cartridges
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on the place. The duelists went out of doors and I gave orders for all of the boys to stay at the table. Soon two shots were fired and Holmes fell. One of the boys had rushed into the kitchen, dipped a dishcloth into the juice of some raspberries, went to the fallen man, bound up his wound which, to all appearances, was in one of his shoulders. He was brought into the cabin and placed on his bunk and I led the reluctant stranger in so he could look at the poor boy who was about to pass away and told him to forgive him for the ungentlemanly act of forcing him to take a drink. His hand gripped my arm so it pained me. I told him I was sorry that the thing had occurred but that it was a mighty tough bunch of fellows and the shooting scrapes were of frequent occurrence, but this was a little different than any that had taken place before, and as Holmes was a favorite, the boys had made up their minds to lynch his murderer, and as he was more or less the cause of the trouble they would no doubt hang him also. My advice was for him to go, and go at once.
"It is needless to say he lit out and camped in the cowshed that night to make his escape the next day to the reservation where he tried to find Major Logan, one of the members of the firm, and tell him of the horrible thing which had taken place on Cow Creek. Logan was in Helena, so the party sent word to Dr. Treacy that his son had shot and probably killed one of the other boys and that the place had become noted for several killings of late owing to the particular number of bad men who had found jobs on that particular ranch.
"The darned fool notified the Pinkerton agency of the affair. Logan, to whom the doctor showed the telegram, told him it must be a fake, gotten up for some reason among the cowboys for the benefit of some tenderfoot, because no more peaceable bunch of boys rode the Milk River range.
"I followed the tenderfoot into Harlem and learned that he had notified the Pinkerton men and that some of them were about to come and investigate and that Dr. T. was to come from Helena. I at once sent a message to Logan 'Nothing doing,' and he understood. Our friend went to Canada and wrote back that the cowboys of the north were nowhere as bad as those of Montana.
"But the way we got double-crossed in the affair was this : We had one rider who was so deaf that no ordinary conversation could be heard by him.
"Our cook was somewhat of a josher himself, so he took Deafy down in the brush and explained the whole plot to him and told him to take the shotgun and go in and cover Treacy and ask him why he shot young Holmes. We were all lying there in our bunks talking over the fun we had with the tender-
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foot, who was even then hiding out in the cow shed, when in came Deafy with the biggest shotgun I ever saw in my life and pointing it at Treacy wanted him to explain why he had shot Holmes. Say, you never in your born days saw a bunch of cowpunchers light out and hit the high places. They almost tore the jamb off the door trying to get out, at the same time with Deafy after them.
I sure was some scared myself and rushed for the cook room, only to find the cook doubled up with laughter at the exit of the bunch of bad men who could not face Deafy's gun.
"The cook had double-crossed us."
A great many people wonder why all who entered the cattle business in the early days of Montana did not become rich. There were several reasons and some of them were the peculiar climatic conditions. One might have had a nice herd of cattle and the winter of some one year would take their all. Then the rustler had to be taken into consideration. The man who would go out and gather your stock and kill or sell it or who would change the brand was mighty hard to deal with. Then, too, the distance from market made the prices so low that many could not possibly continue the business.
As soon as the sheep man came the cattle man thought that he could no longer stay, as the cattle were a little bit disgusted with the scent of the little pest with the golden hoof. Cattle have become used to staying on the same range and many men who once fought the sheep owner are now raising both to advan- tage.
The cattle range that gave way to the sheep and his herder is now the home of the Dry Farmer, where all kinds of stock will be raised, if one is to make a success.
CHAPTER VIII. SHEEP DAYS.
Men who would not attempt to take a dollar away from you in any but a legitimate way would take a chance in the stock busi- ness to crush your very existence, if possible, by using all the Government range that you had formally used as a cattle range for their sheep. There is something about a sheep that cattle and horses do not like. Probably it is the scent. Sheep men and cattle men have had their wars and if all that has ever occurred in those feuds could be written one would surely have much of intense interest.
It is probably the manner in which sheep are handled that causes the destruction of the range. A sheep, if left to its own device, will have a tendency to build up rather than to ruin the
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grass. One can not leave a sheep in this manner as it would be only a short time before the sheep business would be on the bum and the fur business would be a poor one.
Now as to the first sheep in Blaine county. It does not appear to be possible to find any one who will assert that he knows just who the man was who tried out the experiment. Billy Cochran says that in 1888 or '89 B. G. Olsen had sheep in the section that afterward became the county. All others seem to think that it may be possible that he was the man. T. M. Everett says he recalls that Nick Beilenberg and Joe Toomey had some which they tried to winter on the Milk river just below the mouth of the North Fork the season of '89-90. That was a hard winter and their losses were almost complete. Joe Mosser said that he could not say for sure but that Frank Sayer, of Benton, and Olsen, both had sheep on the Milk river early and he did not recall which was the first. The writer called on Mr. Sayer and he said that some one had them before he did, so there you are.
Now the sheep business today, 1917, is one of the most prosperous ones in which men have ever been interested since the earliest recollection of history, in the stock business. Wool over fifty cents, fat lambs on the market at $17.50, ewes at $18.00. That it is now good is not saying that it was always one in which a person could engage with any certainty of success.
There have been many men in what is now Blaine county and what it was before Phillips county was cut off that have made good in the business and are today the prominent men of the county because they were successful in their undertakings.
And these men were not ones who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths but were born with a desire for success and with a determination to fight it out along any line in which they got a start even if it took them not "all summer" but many win- ters and summers.
Jurgan Kuhr, now one of, if not the largest sheep man in the county, began in a very small way, but continued till today he is a factor in the county. If you were to go to him for a story of his success he would tell you that many a time he was not sure of the final results. The Sprinkle Brothers, now men of wealth, began, so the writer has been told, as herders of the "Little fellow with the golden hoof."
Senator B. D. Phillips had at one time probably 100,000 running at large on the ranges of northern Montana and inside of his large enclosures. The sheep business forced these men to secure large tracts of land at prices that were low so that today their land holdings would make them rich.
But if today the sheep business is one in which men would like to engage there was a time when it was just the opposite.
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Sheep were hardly worth anything, as their wool was as low as six cents and their lambs only worth what a pound of wool is now.
Then there was a hazard in more ways than one attached to the business. Out there some place on the northern plains, where the grass was best, you had taken the band of sheep and turned them over to a man, to whom, if he wanted to borrow fifty dol- lars you would have thought twice. But he was one in whom you had more or less confidence as you expected him to stay with that band no matter what condition should arise. The tall grasses of the range land might catch on fire and the destruction of all you had would only mean minutes. Minn. Cowan told the writer of one prairie fire that took place on Woody Island creek. Jurgan Muhr had a band of sheep out in that country when one day a fire started. The men in charge rounded them up and were trying to get them to the bed ground and would then try and fight the fire back. All their efforts proved futile. The grass was only about eight inches high with a strong wind blowing, but h- would have been a cool place alongside of it. The loss was between 2300 and 2400. That was certainly a big barbecue that Jurgan had not planned, so roast mutton was the cheapest thing you ever saw.
Minn says: "My first experience in the sheep business was none too pleaant. Shortly after I began to herd in the fall of '93, in the month of October, a big blizzard of a day and night came up. Everything looked alike to me but what I could see was snow, snow, snow every place. There was no use in leaving the sheep for that would have been very unwise and if one stayed there would be a chance that you would be picked up as soon as the storm was over as they would be sure to hunt for the band as that meant money. I stayed right with that band for two nights and two and one-half days. Even after the storm quit I could not find camp. Chris Maloney found me about three o'clock the . third day. I had all the sheep. The sheep bedded down each night. The second night they drifted to an old sheep shed where there was a tent but no bedding, but as there were some pelts managed to get by. It never occurred to me to leave them."
Scott Cowan, who has been a pretty successful sheep man in the Milk River country, has had many and varied experiences. He said: "The winters were by no means all bad and the life of the herder was not too uncomfortable during normal conditions. When the exceptionally hard ones came, much suffering came to both men and flocks. I remember that one season one of the big sheep men moved a part of his stock to Canada and did not get there in time to make full preparatoins for their safety. The result was a very heavy loss. The next spring some of his friends asked him if his loss was very heavy and his reply was: 'No, I saved some of the dogs and all of the sheep herders.' I recall one
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winter that we had had bad luck by losing our dogs. We had to take out snow plows and clean off a section of ground so the sheep could spread out and feed. If the conditions were at all favorable the boys would take their blankets and stay all night. One morning for some reason I got it into my head that there would be trouble if we took the sheep to any great distance from home, so advised that it should not be done. About ten it cleared up so I changed my mind and the sheep were started. When we left home the sun was shining as brightly as could be. There was a coulee at some distance from the house in which we wanted them to feed as the grass was nice and thick. We had just arrived on the feeding grounds when it began to cloud up and in a very few minutes not a thing could be seen. I told my brothers (Arthur, Minn and George) to hold them and I would go to the house and get a little hay and that there would probably be a chance of getting them back to the sheds. I got a 'half-breed' sled and loaded on a little hay and started back to find the band, which was done by accident as I had Fred Brockway, then only a small boy with me, who called my attention to the trail the sheep had made while being driven before the blizzard. When we found the boys they were more or less excited, but I told them to take it easy and we would pull through all right as we had to stay any way. I left the sled at one end and we tried to hold the herd by walking around it. We could not see one another and did not meet unless we happened to come to the sleigh at the same time.
"Along about evening the sheep began to bleat and began to take interest in things so we thought we could get them home to the shed. We started with the team ahead and had only gone a few minutes when one of the boys shouted that the band had broken in two. I stopped and went back to find that the tail of the band had not moved at all. The leaders were about two hundred yards in the lead so we had to get the two bunches together and stay with them, I thought, so we began to do so. In this we were not successful because, try as we might, we could not find the leaders and did not get them together until we came to Chris Maloney's place, where we were fortunate to get the men so that they could get something to eat and to put Fred who was, as I have said, only a small boy, in a comfortable place to keep him from freezing.'
Minn says of the same storm: "When I went in, Scott's face was so badly frozen that I had to go out in his place. I had to cut off his mustache so he could close his mouth. I did not get back till about midnight though the band was only about one- quarter of a mile away from Maloney's house. The next day we got a team and snow plow and managed to get them to our place,
CHIEF JOSEPH.
The Indian who whipped every army that tried to capture him, not excepting Miles, whom he had going if he (Joseph) had made one rush when the buffalo came in sight.
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which was only a mile and a half. The snow was probably three feet deep. My face was so chilled that I did not get back to work for over a week. I had been with that herd all that night. When a man does a thing like that he earns all he ever makes in the sheep business. That was on the 5th day of February, 1895.
That was not the only bad winter we had up in that country, for the winter of 1906-7 my brothers gave Gene Aiken $100 to take a little grub and two pitchforks to the ranch and he was a week making to Woody Island and back to Harlem."
After one of these hard winters the lamb crop would be small as the mothers would have no nourishment for the little ones when they came. The season of lambing was one always to be dreaded as extra men were in demand and they were often hard to get and sometimes harder to keep. When a person has property that gets its start from the foundation such as lambs that do not come to this climate strong enough to know there own mother, or worse yet, a fool mother that does not know its own offspring, then he surely had grief.
This article is not to educate the reader in sheep raising but to give the story in a vague way of the sheep industry in our county. A book could be filled if one were to get the stories of the herders who have braved the storms of an Arctic winter for a small consideration, to protect their charge from the wild animals that roved the range or from the terrible blizzard that might prove their undoing. We do not hear of many of the heroic things the sheep herder has done in his fight for life and in the sacrifices he has made to protect the property placed in his hands but, neverthe- less he has been a factor in the upbuilding of many of the fortunes in Montana today.
CHAPTER IX.
THE LAST STAND OR THE BATTLE OF THE BEAR'S PAW.
The last battle to be fought between the Indians and the whites in Montana was commenced September 30 and finished on October 5th, 1877, on Snake Creek, sixteen miles from Chinook, now in Blaine county.
In order to give the reader who may have never heard the causes that led up to this battle a clear view it will be necessary to go back and explain the conditions prior to this last stand of the Nez Perces.
Our first knowledge of these Indians came to us through Lewis and Clark. The impression left by these explorers was one which gave due meed of praise to them; as it tells of their friendliness to
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them and to the expedition under them. These men concluded a treaty of peace that lasted through all the stirring times of north- western border settlement.
The Nez Perces were always proud that they never shed one drop of white man's blood.
The land that they claimed and held at that time was roughly bounded by saying that it contained or comprised all the country between the Bitter Root mountains on the East, the Blue Moun- tains on the West, the Salmon river from below the mouth of White Bird on the South, and the North Palouse on the North.
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