USA > Oregon > The Oregon trail : sketches of prairie and Rocky Mountain life > Part 24
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and looked round at Henry, whose face exhibited a curious mixture of mirth and mortification. His hawk's eye had been so completely deceived by the peculiar atmosphere that he had mistaken two large crows at the distance of fifty 5 rods for a grizzly bear a mile off. To the journey's end Henry never heard the last of the grizzly bear with wings.
In the afternoon we came to the foot of a considerable hill. As we ascended it Rouville began to ask questions concerning our condition and prospects at home, and 10 Shaw was edifying him with a minute account of an imagi- nary wife and child, to which he listened with implicit faith. Reaching the top of the hill we saw the windings of Horse creek on the plains below us, and a little on the left we could distinguish the camp of Bisonette among the 15 trees and copses along the course of the stream. Rouville's face assumed just then a most ludicrously blank expres- sion. We inquired what was the matter; when it ap- peared that Bisonette had sent him from this place to Fort Laramie with the sole object of bringing back a supply of 20 tobacco. Our rattlebrain friend, from the time of his reaching the fort up to the present moment, had entirely forgotten the object of his journey, and had ridden a dan- gerous hundred miles for nothing. Descending to Horse creek we forded it, and on the opposite bank a solitary In- 25 dian sat on horseback under a tree. He said nothing, but turned and led the way toward the camp.
Bisonette had made choice of an admirable position. The stream, with its thick growth of trees, inclosed on three sides a wide green meadow, where about forty Dahcotah lodges were 30 pitched in a circle, and beyond them half a dozen lodges of the friendly Cheyenne. Bisonette himself lived in the Indian manner. Riding up to his lodge, we found him seated at the head of it, surrounded by various appliances of com- fort not common on the prairie. His squaw was near him, 35 and rosy children were scrambling about in printed-calico gowns; Paul Dorion also, with his leathery face and old white capôte, was seated in the lodge, together with An- toine Le Rouge, a half-breed Pawnee, Sibille, a trader, and several other white men.
40 " It will do you no harm," said Bisonette, "to stay here with us for a day or two, before you start for the Pueblo."º
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We accepted the invitation, and pitched our tent on a rising ground above the camp and close to the edge of the trees. Bisonette soon invited us to a feast, and we suf- fered abundance of the same sort of attention from his Indian associates. The reader may possibly recollect that 5 when I. joined the Indian village, beyond the Black hills, I found that a few families were absent, having declined to pass the mountains along with the rest. The Indians in Bisonette's camp consisted of these very families, and many of them came to me that evening to inquire after Io their relatives and friends. They were not a little morti- fied to learn that while they, from their own timidity and indolence, were almost in a starving condition, the rest of the village had provided their lodges for the next season, laid in a great stock of provisions, and were living in abun- 15 dance and luxury. Bisonette's companions had been sus- taining themselves for some time on wild cherries, which the squaws pounded up, stones and all, and spread on buffalo robes, to dry in the sun; they were then eaten with- cut further preparation, or used as an ingredient in various 20 delectable compounds.
On the next day the camp was in commotion with a new arrival. A single Indian had come with his family the whole way from the Arkansas. As he passed among the lodges he put on an expression of unusual dignity and 25 importance, and gave out that he had brought great news to tell the whites. Soon after the squaws had erected his lodge, he sent his little son to invite all the white men, and all the more distinguished Indians, to a feast. The guests arrived and sat wedged together, shoulder to shoulder, 30 within the hot and suffocating lodge. The Stabber, for that was our entertainer's name, had killed an old buffalo bull on his way. This veteran's boiled tripe, tougher than leather, formed the main item of the repast. For the rest, it consisted of wild cherries and grease boiled together in a 35 large copper kettle. The feast was distributed, and for a moment all was silent, strenuous exertion; then each guest, with one or two exceptions, however, turned his wooden dish bottom upward to prove that he had done full justice to his entertainer's hospitality. The Stabber next pro- 40 duced his chopping board, on which he prepared the mix-
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ture for smoking, and filled several pipes, which circulated among the company. This done, he seated himself upright on his couch, and began with much gesticulation to tell his story. I will not repeat his childish jargon. It was so cil- 5 tangled, like the greater part of an Indian's stories, with absurd and contradictory details, that it was almost impos- sible to disengage from it a single particle of truth. All that we could gather was the following:
He had been on the Arkansas, and there he had seen io six great war parties of whites. He had never believed before that the whole world contained half so many white men. They all had large horses, long knives, and short rifles, and some of thein were attired alike in the most splendid war dresses he had ever seen. From this account 15 it was clear that bodies of dragoons and perhaps also of volunteer cavalry had been passing up the Arkansas. The Stabber had also seen a great many of the white lodges of the Mencaska, drawn by their long-horned buffalo. These could be nothing else than covered ox-wagons used 20 no doubt in transporting stores for the troops. Soon after seeing this, our host had met an Indian who had lately come from among the Comanches. The latter had told him that all the Mexicans had gone out to a great buffalo hunt. That the Americans had hid themselves in a ravine. 25 When the Mexicans had shot away all their arrows, the Americans had fired their guns, raised their war-whoop, rushed out, and killed thein all. We could only infer from this that war had been declared with Mexico, and a battle fought in which the Americans were victorious. 3º When, some weeks after, we arrived at the Pueblo, we heard of General Kearny's marchº up the Arkansas and of General Taylor's victories at Matamoras.º
As the sun was setting that evening a great crowd gath- ered on the plain by the side of our tent, to try the speed 35 of their horses. These were of every shape, size, and color. Some came from California,º some from the states, some from among the mountains, and some from the wild bands of the prairie. They were of every hue - white, black, red, and gray, or mottled and clouded with a strange 40 variety of colors. They all had a wild and startled look, very different from the staid and sober aspect of a well-
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bred city steed. Those most noted for swiftness and spirit were decorated with eagle-feathers dangling from their . manes and tails. Fifty or sixty Dahcotahs were present, wrapped from head to foot in their heavy robes of whitened hide. There were also a considerable number of the Chey- 5 enne, many of whom wore gaudy Mexican ponchos° swathed around their shoulders, but leaving the right arm bare. Mingled among the crowd of Indians were a number of Canadians, chiefly in the employ of Bisonette; men, whose home is the wilderness, and who love the camp fire better Io than the domestic hearth. They are contented and happy in the midst of hardship, privation, and danger. Their cheerfulness and gayety is irrepressible, and no people on earth understand better how "to daff the world aside and bid it pass." Besides these, were two or three half-breeds, 15 a race of rather extraordinary composition, being accord- ing to the common saying half Indian, half white man, and half devil. Antoine Le Rouge was the most conspicuous among them, with his loose pantaloons and his fluttering calico shirt. A handkerchief was bound round his head to 20 confine his black snaky hair, and his small eyes twinkled beneath it, with a mischievous luster. He had a fine cream- colored horse whose speed he must needs try along with the rest. So he threw off the rude high-peaked saddle, and substituting a piece of buffalo robe, leaped lightly into his 25 seat. The space was cleared, the word was given, and he and his Indian rival darted out like lightning from among the crowd, each stretching forward over his horse's neck and plying his heavy Indian whip with might and main. A moment, and both were lost in the gloom; but Antoine 30 soon came riding back victorious, exultingly patting the neck of his quivering and panting horse.
About midnight, as I lay asleep, wrapped in a buffalo robe on the ground by the side of our cart, Raymond came up and woke me. Something he said, was going forward 35 which I would like to see. Looking down into the camp I saw, on the farther side of it, a great number of Indians gathered around a fire, the bright glare of which made them visible through the thick darkness; while from the midst of them proceeded a loud, measured chant which 40 would have killed Paganiniº outright, broken occasionally
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by a burst of sharp yells. I gathered the robe around me, for the night was cold, and walked down to the spot. The dark throng of Indians was so dense that they almost inter- cepted the light of the flame. As I was pushing among 5 them with but little ceremony, a chief interposed himself, and I was given to understand that a white man must not approach the scene of their solemnities too closely. By passing round to the other side, where there was a little opening in the crowd, I could see clearly what was going Io forward, without intruding my unhallowed presence into the inner circle. The society of the Strong Hearts were engaged in one of their dances. The Strong Hearts are a warlike association, comprising men of both the Dahcotah and Cheyenne nations, and entirely composed, or supposed 15 to be so, of young braves of the highest mettle. Its fun- damental principle is the admirable one of never retreating from any enterprise once commenced. All these Indian associations have a tutelary spirit. That of the Strong Hearts is embodied in the fox, an animal which a white 20 man would hardly have selected for a similar purpose, though his subtle and cautious character agrees well enough with an Indian's notions of what is honorable in warfare. The dancers were circling round and round the fire, cach figure brightly illumined at one moment by the yellow 25 light, and at the next drawn in blackest shadow as it passed between the flame and the spectator. They would imitate with the most ludicrous exactness the motions and the voice of their sly patron the fox. Then a startling yell would be given. Many other warriors would leap into the ring, and 30 with faces upturned toward the starless sky, they would all stamp, and whoop, and brandish their weapons like so many frantic devils.
Until the next afternoon we were still remaining with Bisonette. My companion and I with our three attendants 35 then left his camp for the Pueblo, a distance of three hun- dred miles, and we supposed the journey would occupy about a fortnight. During this time we all earnestly hoped that we might not meet a single human being, for should we encounter any, they would in all probability 40 be enemies, ferocious robbers and murderers, in whose eyes our rifles would be our only passports. For the first
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7
two days nothing worth mentioning took place. On the third morning, however, an untoward incident occurred. We were encamped by the side of a little brook in an ex- tensive hollow of the plain. Deslauriers was up long before daylight, and before he began to prepare breakfast he 5 turned loose all the horses, as in duty bound. There was a cold mist clinging close to the ground, and by the time the rest of us were awake the animals were invisible. It was only after a long and anxious search that we could discover by their tracks the direction they had taken. Io They had all set off for Fort Laramie, following the guid- ance of a mutinous old mule, and though many of them were hobbled they had traveled three miles before they could be overtaken and driven back.
For two or three days we were passing over an arid desert. 15 The only vegetation was a few tufts of short grass, dried and shriveled by the heat. There was an abundance of strange insects and reptiles. Huge crickets, black and bottle green, and wingless grasshoppers of the most extrava- gant dimensions, were tumbling about our horses' feet, and 20 lizards without number were darting like lightning among the tufts of grass. The most curious animal, however, was that commonly called the horned frog. I caught one of them and consigned him to the care of Deslauriers, who tied him up in a moccasin. About a month after this I 25 examined the prisoner's condition, and finding him still lively and active, I provided him with a cage of buffalo hide, which was hung up in the cart. In this manner he arrived. safely at the settlements. From thence he traveled the whole way to Boston packed closely in a trunk, being re- 30 galed with fresh air regularly every night. When he reached his destination he was deposited under a glass case, where he sat for some months in great tranquillity and composure, alternately dilating and contracting his white throat to the admiration of his visitors. At length, one 35 morning, about the middle of winter, he gave up the ghost. His death was attributed to starvation, a very probable conclusion, since for six months he had taken no food what- ever, though the sympathy of his juvenile admirers had tempted his palate with a great variety of delicacies./ We 40 found also animals of a somewhat larger growth. The
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number of prairie dogs was absolutely astounding. Fre- quently the hard and dry prairie would be thickly covered for many miles together, with the little mounds which they make around the mouths of their burrows, and small squeak- 5 ing voices yelping at us as we passed along. The noses of the inhabitants would be just visible at the mouths of their holes, but no sooner was their curiosity satisfied than they would instantly vanish. Some of the bolder dogs - though in fact they are no dogs at all, but little marmots rather Io smaller than a rabbit - would sit yelping at us on the tops of their mounds, jerking their tails emphatically with every shrill cry they uttered. As the danger drew nearer they would wheel about, toss their heels into the air, and dive in a twinkling down into their burrows. Toward sunset, 15 and especially if rain were threatening, the whole com- munity would make their appearance above ground. We would see then gathered in large knots around the burrow of some favorite citizen. There they would all sit erect, their tails spread out on the ground, and their paws hang- 20 ing down before their white breasts, chattering and squeak- ing with the utmost vivacity upon some topic of common interest, while the proprietor of the burrow, with his head just visible on the top of his mound, would sit looking down with a complacent countenance on the enjoyment 25 of his guests. Meanwhile, others would be running about from burrow to burrow, as if on some errand of the last importance to their subterranean commonwealth. The snakes are apparently the prairie dog's worst enemies, at least I think too well of the latter to suppose that they 30 associate on friendly terms with these slimy intruders, who may be seen at all times basking among their holes, into which they always retreat when disturbed. Sinall owls, with wise and grave countenances, also make their abode with the prairie dogs, though on what terms they 35 live together I could never ascertain. The manners and customs, the political and domestic .economy of these little marmots is worthy of closer attention than one is able to give when pushing by forced marches through their coun- try, with his thoughts engrossed by objects of greater mo- 40 ment.
On the fifth day after leaving Bisonette's camp we saw
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late in the afternoon what we supposed to be a consider- able stream, but on our approaching it we found to our mortification nothing but a dry bed of sand into which all the water had sunk and disappeared. We separated, some riding in one direction and some in another along its 5 course. Still we found no traces of water, not even so much as a wet spot in the sand. The old cotton-wood trees that grew along the bank, lamentably abused by lightning and tempest, were withering with the drought, and on the dead limbs, at the summit of the tallest, half a dozen crows were Io hoarsely cawing like birds of evil omen as they were. We had no alternative but to keep on. There was no water nearer than the South fork of the Platte, about ten miles distant. We moved forward, angry and silent, over a desert as flat as the outspread ocean.
I5
The sky had been obscured since the morning by thin mists and vapors, but now vast piles of clouds were gath- ered together in the west. They rose to a great height above the horizon, and looking up toward them I distin- guished one mass darker than the rest and of a peculiar 20 conical form. I happened to look again and still could see it as before. At some moments it was dimly seen, at others its outline was sharp and distinct; but while the clouds around it were shifting, changing, and dissolving away, it still towered aloft in the midst of them, fixed and 25 immovable. It must, thought I, be the summit of a moun- tain, and yet its height staggered me. My conclusion was right, however. It was Long's peak,º once believed to be one of the highest of the Rocky mountain chain, though more recent discoveries have proved the contrary. The 30 thickening gloom soon hid it from view and we never saw it again, for on the following day and for some time after, the air was so full of mist that the view of distant objects was entirely intercepted.
It grew very late. Turning from our direct course we 35 made for the river at its nearest point, though in the utter darkness it was not easy to direct our way with much pre- cision. Raymond rode on one side and Henry on the other. We could hear each of them shouting that he had come upon a deep ravine. We steered at random be- 40 tween Scylla and Charybdis,º and soon after became, as it
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seemed, inextricably involved with deep chasms all around us, while the darkness was such that we could not see a rod in any direction. We partially extricated ourselves by scrambling, cart and all, through a shallow ravine. We 5 came next to a steep descent, down which we plunged
without well knowing what was at the bottom. There was a great crackling of sticks and dry twigs. Over our heads were certain large shadowy objects, and in front something like the faint gleaming of a dark sheet of water. Io Raymond ran his horse against a tree; Henry alighted, and feeling on the ground declared that there was grass enough for the horses. Before taking off his saddle each man led his own horses down to the water in the best way he could. Then picketing two or three of the evil-dis-
15 posed we turned the rest loose and lay down among the dry sticks to sleep. In the morning we found ourselves close to the South fork of the Platte on a spot surrounded by bushes and rank grass. Compensating ourselves with a hearty breakfast for the ill fare of the previous night,
20 we set forward again on our journey. When only two or three rods from the camp I saw Shaw stop his mule, level his gun, and after a long aim fire at some object in the grass. Deslauriers next jumped forward and began to dance about, belaboring the unseen enemy with a whip. Then
25 he stooped down and drew out of the grass by the neck an enormous rattlesnake, with his head completely shat- tered by Shaw's bullet. As Deslauriers held him out at arm's length with an exulting grin, his tail, which still kept slowly writhing about, alinost touched the ground, and
30 the body in the largest part was as thick as a stout man's arm. He had fourteen rattles, but the end of his tail was blunted, as if he could once have boasted of many more. From this time till we reached the Pueblo we killed at least four or five of these snakes every day as they lay 35 coiled and rattling on the hot sand. Shaw was the St. Patrick° of the party, and whenever he or any one else killed a snake he always pulled off his tail and stored it away in his bullet-pouch, which was soon crammed with an edify- ing collection of rattles, great and small. Deslauriers, 40 with his whip, also came in for a share of the praise.
day or two after this he triumphantly produced a small
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snake about a span and a half long, with one infant rattle at the end of his tail.
We forded the South fork of the Platte. On its farther bank were the traces of a very large camp of Arapahoes. The ashes of some three hundred fires were visible among 5 the scattered trees, together with the remains of sweating lodges, and all the other appurtenances of a permanent camp. The place however had been for some months deserted. A few miles farther on we found more recent signs of Indians; the trail of two or three lodges, which 10 had evidently passed the day before, where every foot- print was perfectly distinct in the dry, dusty soil. We noticed in particular the track of one moccasin, upon the sole of which its economical proprietor had placed a large patch. These signs gave us but little uneasiness, 15 as the number of the warriors scarcely exceeded that of our own party. At noon we rested under the walls of a large fort, built in these solitudes some years since by M. St. Vrain.º It was now abandoned and fast falling into ruin. The walls of unbaked bricks were cracked 20 from top to bottom. Our horses recoiled in terror from the neglected entrance, where the heavy gates were torn from their hinges and flung down. The area within was overgrown with weeds, and the long ranges of apartments, once occupied by the motley concourse of traders, Cana- 25 dians, and squaws, were now miserably dilapidated. Twelve miles farther on, near the spot where we encamped, were the remains of still another fort, standing in melancholy desertion and neglect.
Early on the following morning we made a startling 30 discovery. We passed close by a large deserted encamp- ment of Arapahoes. There were about fifty fires still smoldering on the ground, and it was evident from numer- ous signs that the Indians must have left the place within two hours of our reaching it. Their trail crossed our own 35 at right angles, and led in the direction of a line of hills half a mile on our left. There were women and children in the party, which would have greatly diminished the danger of encountering them. Henry Chatillon examined the encampment and the trail with a very professional and 40 businesslike air.
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"Supposing we had met them, Henry ?" said I.
" Why," said he, "we hold out our hands to them, and give them all we've got; they take away everything, and then I believe they no kill us. Perhaps," added he, looking 5 up with a quiet, unchanged face, "perhaps we no let them rob us. Maybe before they come near, we have a chance to get into a ravine, or under the bank of the river; then, you know, we fight thein."
About noon on that day we reached Cherry creek. Here Io was a great abundance of wild cherries, plums, gooseberries, and currants. The stream, however, like most of the others which we passed, was dried up with the heat, and we had to dig holes in the sand to find water for ourselves and our horses. Two days after, we left the banks of the creek 15 which we had been following for some time, and began to cross the high dividing ridge which separates the waters of the Platte from those of the Arkansas. The scenery was altogether changed. In place of the burning plains we were passing now through rough and savage glens and 20 among hills crowned with a dreary growth of pines. We encamped among these solitudes on the night of the six- teenth of August. A tempest was threatening. The sun went down among volumes of jet-black cloud, edged with a bloody red. But in spite of these portentous signs, we 25 neglected to put up the tent, and being extremely fatigued, lay down on the ground and fell asleep. The storm broke about midnight, and we erected the tent amid darkness and confusion. In the morning all was fair again, and Pike's peak,° white with snow, was towering above the wilderness 3º afar off.
We pushed through an extensive tract of pine woods. Large black squirrels were leaping among the branches. From the farther edge of this forest we saw the prairie again, hollowed out before us into a vast basin, and about 35 a mile in front we could discern a little black speck moving upon its surface. It could be nothing but a buffalo. Henry primed his rifle afresh and galloped forward. To the left of the animal was a low rocky mound, of which Henry availed himself in making his approach. After a short time 40 we heard the faint report of the rifle. The bull, mortally wounded from a distance of nearly three hundred yards,
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