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CHAPTER 8
Plans for the winter Salmon River Abundance of salmon west of the
mountains New arrangements Caches Cerre's detachment Movements
in Fontenelle's camp Departure of the Blackfeet Their
fortunes Wind Mountain streams Buckeye, the Delaware hunter, and
the grizzly bear Bones of murdered travellers Visit to Pierre's
Hole Traces of the battle Nez Perce Indians Arrival at Salmon
River
THE INFORMATION derived from the free trappers determined Captain
Bonneville as to his further movements. He learned that in the
Green River valley the winters were severe, the snow frequently
falling to the depth of several feet; and that there was no good
wintering ground in the neighborhood. The upper part of Salmon
River was represented as far more eligible, besides being in an
excellent beaver country; and thither the captain resolved to
bend his course.
The Salmon River is one of the upper branches of the Oregon or
Columbia; and takes its rise from various sources, among a group
of mountains to the northwest of the Wind River chain. It owes
its name to the immense shoals of salmon which ascend it in the
months of September and October. The salmon on the west side of
the Rocky Mountains are, like the buffalo on the eastern plains,
vast migratory supplies for the wants of man, that come and go
with the seasons. As the buffalo in countless throngs find their
certain way in the transient pasturage on the prairies, along the
fresh banks of the rivers, and up every valley and green defile
of the mountains, so the salmon, at their allotted seasons,
regulated by a sublime and all-seeing Providence, swarm in
myriads up the great rivers, and find their way up their main
branches, and into the minutest tributory streams; so as to
pervade the great arid plains, and to penetrate even among barren
mountains. Thus wandering tribes are fed in the desert places of
the wilderness, where there is no herbage for the animals of the
chase, and where, but for these periodical supplies, it would be
impossible for man to subsist.
The rapid currents of the rivers which run into the Pacific
render the ascent of them very exhausting to the salmon. When the
fish first run up the rivers, they are fat and in fine order. The
struggle against impetuous streams and frequent rapids gradually
renders them thin and weak, and great numbers are seen floating
down the rivers on their backs. As the season advances and the
water becomes chilled, they are flung in myriads on the shores,
where the wolves and bears assemble to banquet on them. Often
they rot in such quantities along the river banks as to taint the
atmosphere. They are commonly from two to three feet long.
Captain Bonneville now made his arrangements for the autumn and
the winter. The nature of the country through which he was about
to travel rendered it impossible to proceed with wagons. He had
more goods and supplies of various kinds, also, than were
required for present purposes, or than could be conveniently
transported on horseback; aided, therefore, by a few confidential
men, he made caches, or secret pits, during the night, when all
the rest of the camp were asleep, and in these deposited the
superfluous effects, together with the wagons. All traces of the
caches were then carefully obliterated. This is a common
expedient with the traders and trappers of the mountains. Having
no established posts and magazines, they make these caches or
deposits at certain points, whither they repair, occasionally,
for supplies. It is an expedient derived from the wandering
tribes of Indians.
Many of the horses were still so weak and lame, as to be unfit
for a long scramble through the mountains. These were collected
into one cavalcade, and given in charge to an experienced
trapper, of the name of Matthieu. He was to proceed westward,
with a brigade of trappers, to Bear River; a stream to the west
of the Green River or Colorado, where there was good pasturage
for the horses. In this neighborhood it was expected he would
meet the Shoshonie villages or bands, on their yearly migrations,
with whom he was to trade for peltries and provisions. After he
had traded with these people, finished his trapping, and
recruited the strength of the horses, he was to proceed to Salmon
River and rejoin Captain Bonneville, who intended to fix his
quarters there for the winter.
While these arrangements were in progress in the camp of Captain
Bonneville, there was a sudden bustle and stir in the camp of
Fontenelle. One of the partners of the American Fur Company had
arrived, in all haste, from the rendezvous at Pierre's Hole, in
quest of the supplies. The competition between the two rival
companies was just now at its height, and prosecuted with unusual
zeal. The tramontane concerns of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company
were managed by two resident partners, Fitzpatrick and Bridger;
those of the American Fur Company, by Vanderburgh and Dripps. The
latter were ignorant of the mountain regions, but trusted to make
up by vigilance and activity for their want of knowledge of the
country.
Fitzpatrick, an experienced trader and trapper, knew the evils of
competition in the same hunting grounds, and had proposed that
the two companies should divide the country, so as to hunt in
different directions: this proposition being rejected, he had
exerted himself to get first into the field. His exertions, as
have already been shown, were effectual. The early arrival of
Sublette, with supplies, had enabled the various brigades of the
Rocky Mountain Company to start off to their respective hunting
grounds. Fitzpatrick himself, with his associate, Bridger, had
pushed off with a strong party of trappers, for a prime beaver
country to the north-northwest.
This had put Vanderburgh upon his mettle. He had hastened on to
meet Fontenelle. Finding him at his camp in Green River valley,
he immediately furnished himself with the supplies; put himself
at the head of the free trappers and Delawares, and set off with
all speed, determined to follow hard upon the heels of
Fitzpatrick and Bridger. Of the adventures of these parties among
the mountains, and the disastrous effects of their competition,
we shall have occasion to treat in a future chapter.
Fontenelle having now delivered his supplies and accomplished his
errand, struck his tents and set off on his return to the
Yellowstone. Captain Bonneville and his band, therefore, remained
alone in the Green River valley; and their situation might have
been perilous, had the Blackfeet band still lingered in the
vicinity. Those marauders, however, had been dismayed at finding
so many resolute and well-appointed parties of white men in the
neighborhood. They had, therefore, abandoned this part of the
country, passing over the headwaters of the Green River, and
bending their course towards the Yellowstone. Misfortune pursued
them. Their route lay through the country of their deadly
enemies, the Crows. In the Wind River valley, which lies east of
the mountains, they were encountered by a powerful war party of
that tribe, and completely put to rout. Forty of them were
killed, many of their women and children captured, and the
scattered fugitives hunted like wild beasts until they were
completely chased out of the Crow country.
On the 22d of August Captain Bonneville broke up his camp, and
set out on his route for Salmon River. His baggage was arranged
in packs, three to a mule, or pack-horse; one being disposed on
each side of the animal and one on the top; the three forming a
load of from one hundred and eighty to two hundred and twenty
pounds. This is the trappers' style of loading pack-horses; his
men, however, were inexpert at adjusting the packs, which were
prone to get loose and slip off, so that it was necessary to keep
a rear-guard to assist in reloading. A few days' experience,
however, brought them into proper training.
Their march lay up the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee, overlooked to
the right by the lofty peaks of the Wind River Mountains. From
bright little lakes and fountain-heads of this remarkable bed of
mountains poured forth the tributary streams of the Seeds-ke-dee.
Some came rushing down gullies and ravines; others tumbled in
crystal cascades from inaccessible clefts and rocks, and others
winding their way in rapid and pellucid currents across the
valley, to throw themselves into the main river. So transparent
were these waters that the trout with which they abounded could
be seen gliding about as if in the air; and their pebbly beds
were distinctly visible at the depth of many feet. This beautiful
and diaphanous quality of the Rocky Mountain streams prevails for
a long time after they have mingled their waters and swollen into
important rivers.
Issuing from the upper part of the valley, Captain Bonneville
continued to the east-northeast, across rough and lofty ridges,
and deep rocky defiles, extremely fatiguing both to man and
horse. Among his hunters was a Delaware Indian who had remained
faithful to him. His name was Buckeye. He had often prided
himself on his skill and success in coping with the grizzly bear,
that terror of the hunters. Though crippled in the left arm, he
declared he had no hesitation to close with a wounded bear, and
attack him with a sword. If armed with a rifle, he was willing to
brave the animal when in full force and fury. He had twice an
opportunity of proving his prowess, in the course of this
mountain journey, and was each time successful. His mode was to
seat himself upon the ground, with his rifle cocked and resting
on his lame arm. Thus prepared, he would await the approach of
the bear with perfect coolness, nor pull trigger until he was
close at hand. In each instance, he laid the monster dead upon
the spot.
A march of three or four days, through savage and lonely scenes,
brought Captain Bonneville to the fatal defile of Jackson's Hole,
where poor More and Foy had been surprised and murdered by the
Blackfeet. The feelings of the captain were shocked at beholding
the bones of these unfortunate young men bleaching among the
rocks; and he caused them to be decently interred.
On the 3d of September he arrived on the summit of a mountain
which commanded a full view of the eventful valley of Pierre's
Hole; whence he could trace the winding of its stream through
green meadows, and forests of willow and cotton-wood, and have a
prospect, between distant mountains, of the lava plains of Snake
River, dimly spread forth like a sleeping ocean below.
After enjoying this magnificent prospect, he descended into the
valley, and visited the scenes of the late desperate conflict.
There were the remains of the rude fortress in the swamp,
shattered by rifle shot, and strewed with the mingled bones of
savages and horses. There was the late populous and noisy
rendezvous, with the traces of trappers' camps and Indian lodges;
but their fires were extinguished, the motley assemblage of
trappers and hunters, white traders and Indian braves, had all
dispersed to different points of the wilderness, and the valley
had relapsed into its pristine solitude and silence.
That night the captain encamped upon the battle ground; the next
day he resumed his toilsome peregrinations through the mountains.
For upwards of two weeks he continued his painful march; both men
and horses suffering excessively at times from hunger and thirst.
At length, on the 19th of September, he reached the upper waters
of Salmon River.
The weather was cold, and there were symptoms of an impending
storm. The night set in, but Buckeye, the Delaware Indian, was
missing. He had left the party early in the morning, to hunt by
himself, according to his custom. Fears were entertained lest he
should lose his way and become bewildered in tempestuous weather.
These fears increased on the following morning, when a violent
snow-storm came on, which soon covered the earth to the depth of
several inches. Captain Bonneville immediately encamped, and sent
out scouts in every direction. After some search Buckeye was
discovered, quietly seated at a considerable distance in the
rear, waiting the expected approach of the party, not knowing
that they had passed, the snow having covered their trail.
On the ensuing morning they resumed their march at an early hour,
but had not proceeded far when the hunters, who were beating up
the country in the advance, came galloping back, making signals
to encamp, and crying Indians! Indians!
Captain Bonneville immediately struck into a skirt of wood and
prepared for action. The savages were now seen trooping over the
hills in great numbers. One of them left the main body and came
forward singly, making signals of peace. He announced them as a
band of Nez Perces or Pierced-nose Indians, friendly to the
whites, whereupon an invitation was returned by Captain
Bonneville for them to come and encamp with him. They halted for
a short time to make their toilette, an operation as important
with an Indian warrior as with a fashionable beauty. This done,
they arranged themselves in martial style, the chiefs leading the
van, the braves following in a long line, painted and decorated,
and topped off with fluttering plumes. In this way they advanced,
shouting and singing, firing off their fusees, and clashing their
shields. The two parties encamped hard by each other. The Nez
Perces were on a hunting expedition, but had been almost famished
on their march. They had no provisions left but a few dried
salmon, yet finding the white men equally in want, they
generously offered to share even this meager pittance, and
frequently repeated the offer, with an earnestness that left no
doubt of their sincerity. Their generosity won the heart of
Captain Bonneville, and produced the most cordial good will on
the part of his men. For two days that the parties remained in
company, the most amicable intercourse prevailed, and they parted
the best of friends. Captain Bonneville detached a few men, under
Mr. Cerre, an able leader, to accompany the Nez Perces on their
hunting expedition, and to trade with them for meat for the
winter's supply. After this, he proceeded down the river, about
five miles below the forks, when he came to a halt on the 26th of
September, to establish his winter quarters.
Content of CHAPTER 8 [Washington Irving's book: The Adventures of Captain Bonneville]
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