Upon reaching the Rosebud we pitched our tents and camped till the next morning. It was in the latter part of June; the trees and shrubs were in full foliage and the wild flowers perfumed the air. The Rosebud is one of the prettiest rivers I ever saw; like all mountain streams the current is swift and its water as clear as crystal. Its beds are inlaid with pebbles of all imaginable colors, with occasional large boulders, where the speckled trout hides as one approaches the water’s edge. Along its banks are groves of ancient trees, with underbrush of many varieties and wild roses in great profusion. The bottom lands for miles are but nature’s meadows, while the rolling hills, as far as the eye can see, are a vast pasture land dotted here and there with clumps of timber. Although away from civilization, the small birds flutter among the branches, singing their sweet songs with as tender cadence as if in somebody’s front yard in the civilized East. The same can be said of nearly all of the streams and valleys that we crossed and came through on our journey. On first view of these beautiful landscapes a person would think that some prehistoric race had cultivated these fertile valleys and planted those ancient trees and groves that grew as uniform as if the ground had been laid out by some expert landscape gardener. On further observation, we could see high, tempest tortured towers of grand masonry work, which had withstood the elements for ages. All is but the handiwork of nature, directed by the Great Architect of the Universe.
When in the Yellowstone valley we saw from a distance a party of Indians all mounted and coming towards us. Our captain at once gave orders to form into a camp, and, before the Indians got near, we were formed into a stockade and ready for battle, if necessary. As the Indians approached our guide stepped forward about two hundred yards to meet them. They were eighty-five in number. Then they whipped their horses to greater speed and began yelling. When within about two hundred yards of him, he lifted his hand and the Indians stopped as if they were shot. The chief of the party and our guide had a sign talk for a few minutes; the chief came forward and stated that they were “Crows” and he wished to know who we were. He was informed who we were and where we were going. They talked for about ten minutes, then the balance of the Indians came forward and were invited to come to our camp. They were mounted on good horses and had on their war paint and all were stripped to their waists. We gave them bread and coffee and took a smoke with them. Smoking with an Indian signifies that he is friendly. They all left very peaceably and never came back. They were the last Indians we saw until we got to Alder Creek.
Some distance after crossing the Yellowstone river the writer and two others were considerably ahead of the wagons and crossing our course was a ripple of clear water. The sun was hot and the effect of the heat made us thirsty. All three, nearly at the same time, got down to quench their thirst with the sparkling water. The first one cries at the top of his voice: “My God, it is hot;” the second remarked: “Well, boys, we must be near to the jumping-off place,” while the third thought that we were getting near to the infernal regions. However, it was a great wonder to us, for this was the first hot spring that we had ever seen.
This spring is to-day the renowned Hunter Hot Springs, a place of resort for its mineral properties, where hundreds of people are treated every year for rheumatism and kindred diseases. It has fine hotel accommodations and all modern conveniences and improvements for the comfort of its patrons. What was “then” but a ripple of hot water is “now” a Western Saratoga.
After a journey of two thousand miles over plains and sandy deserts, up the hills and down the canyons, crossing rivers and through many beautiful valleys, fatigued by much suffering, hardships and dangers, we arrived in Alder Gulch July 13, 1864. We found it to be a great camp, and were told how many dollars to the pan and how rich the mines were, and of the “road agents” robbing and killing people; of the organization of the vigilance committee and the good work they were doing by hanging the desperadoes, and suppressing lawlessness. Not until we arrived did we learn of the organization of the Territory of Montana, for it was completed May 26th, while we were in the wilderness. Truly, Montana “then” was but an infant in its cradle.
Robert Vaughn.
Feb. 11, 1898.
In September, 1864, James Gibb, Jack Williams, Charles Howard, myself and a man named Wilson, left Alder Gulch on a “stampede” to the upper Yellowstone country. It was reported that a rich gold discovery had been made not far from the canyon at the Yellowstone river. Each of us procured a saddle pony, and a pack horse. We undertook to follow the base of the mountains; crossing the headwaters of the Madison, Jefferson, and Gallatin rivers. We were traveling by direction of a map and the use of a compass, but made the mistake of keeping too near the mountains, for we were delayed several times by the dense pines that grew so thick in some places that we had to chop our way through. In one small valley there was a great quantity of petrified wood, and in the bed of the creek nearly all the stones were petrifactions. I remember that we stopped on the banks of this creek for dinner. The mountains were very steep. On a cliff about one hundred yards off stood a Rocky mountain goat. At first we thought it a domestic sheep, for it was very white, bleated, and acted as if it was glad to see us. But then, as there were no settlers within several hundred miles, we could not imagine how a sheep could get to such a place. While we were discussing the matter, the animal leaped over cliffs and up the mountain as if it was on level ground, and this satisfied us all that it was a Rocky mountain goat. Not one of us had seen one previously. The next day we came to a small lake on top of a mountain, on approaching which we could see a big black bear rooting in the edge of the water, but it disappeared before we had a chance to shoot. After that we were on the watch for bear. Sometimes we would travel for several miles on a well-beaten trail made by wild animals. At one time Jack Williams was considerably in advance of the balance of the party, and on one of these game trails, at a point where the ground was a little marshy so an impression of any kind would show very plainly. Suddenly we could see Jack coming around the bend helter-skelter as fast as his pony could carry him, saying that he had seen the track of a grizzly bear coming straight towards him. I asked, “Do you mean to say that you saw a grizzly bear coming straight towards you?” “No,” said Jack, “I saw its track coming this way.” “And you went after the bear, did you?” Jack studied a minute and said: “I’ll be hanged I never thought of that, but I’ll tell you, boys, those tracks are fourteen inches long and eight inches wide; I don’t care what direction they point to, the sight of them is enough to convince a man when he is alone that he has not lost any bears.” On the seventh day we camped on the Yellowstone and stayed until the next morning. The river was not wide, but the current was very swift and the banks and the bed of the stream were very rocky. It was a fine place for trout fishing, and we caught some that weighed two pounds. We could not see any indications of travel up the river, but we went as far as the canyon. Wonderland was not known then. We concluded that the new Eldorado was not in that direction, so we turned back and went down the valley for many miles; we did some prospecting along the route. Finally we found about fifty men working in a place which had been named Emigrant Gulch. There were but few taking out gold in paying quantities; most of them were prospecting in the gulch and on the bars. We remained there several days, but found nothing that we thought would pay, although a great deal of gold has been taken out of this gulch since. Consequently we decided to go home. This time we took the lowland until we reached the emigrant trail. On our way, on the divide between the Yellowstone and Gallatin valleys, we saw about one hundred and fifty elks all in one herd, on a slope of a hill, grazing. Grass was abundant and game was plentiful; wherever we traveled we had all the trout and deer meat that we could eat. At the crossing of the Gallatin we met Mr. John Bozeman, for whom the City of Bozeman, Montana, is named, as I have mentioned in a previous letter. The last time that I met him was on the North Platte. There were with him three or four Indian people. He was returning from Alder Gulch, having made a successful trip with a train of emigrant wagons, of which he was guide. He brought this train, which was about one hundred and twenty wagons, from the North Platte river and by his “New Bozeman route,” east of the Big Horn mountains, to the Yellowstone valley and thence to the gold fields; now he was on his way back to organize another train for the same place and by the same route. Some time afterwards and but one day’s travel from the place where I met him last he was murdered by the treacherous Indians, for whom he had done many kind acts. Thus the brave pioneer and frontiersman John Bozeman, came to the end of his route. We had been very lucky; we saw but few Indians; the weather had been delightful, and all enjoyed the trip. We saw grand scenery, groves of lofty pines, natural parks stocked with wild deer and elks, brooks of clear water where the speckled trout played among its pebbles and had all the harbor to themselves; beautiful springs bursting forth from the mountain side, still higher the majestic peaks stood in bold relief above the mountain pines, where lay the perpetual snow; and to render man’s enjoyment complete, his lungs are filled with pure mountain air perfumed with scent of pines and herbs that grow everywhere. I know of no place like the mountains for one that loves nature in all its glory.
After twenty-nine days of “roughing it” we returned to Alder Gulch, not any richer, but wiser, men.
Robert Vaughn.
Feb. 12, 1898.
On April 9, 1863, several courageous miners met at Bannock City, and formulated plans to organize an expedition to the country of the Yellowstone and Big Horn rivers for the purpose of prospecting for gold, and if successful, the idea was to lay out townsites, and so forth. James Stuart, a brother of Granville Stuart (now of Butte), and William Fairweather, were the prime movers in getting up the expedition. It was agreed that those who were going to join the expedition should meet at Rattlesnake creek the next day. There the form of organization was to be adopted; the original manuscript, which is now in the possession of the Historical Society of Montana, reads thus: “Having determined to explore a portion of the country drained by the ‘Yellowstone’ for the purpose of discovering gold mines and securing townsites, and, believing this object could be better accomplished by forming ourselves into a regularly organized company, we hereby appoint James Stuart captain, agreeing upon our word of honor to obey all orders given or issued by him, or any subordinate officer appointed by him. In case of any member refusing to obey an order or orders from said captain, he shall be forcibly expelled from our camp. It is further understood and agreed that we all do our equal portions of work, the captain being umpire in all cases, sharing equally the benefits of the said labor both as to the discovery of gold and securing townsites.
“(Signed.) James Stuart, Cyrus D. Watkins, John Vanderbilt, James N. York, Richard McCafferty, James Hauxhurst, Drewyer Underwood, Samuel T. Hauser, Henry A. Bell, William Roach, A. Sterne Blake, George H. Smith, Henry T. Greery, Ephraim Bostwick.”
George Ives overtook the party the next day; he had not yet signed the agreement, but he intended doing so.
William Fairweather, Lewis Simons, Bill Sweeney, Thomas Cover, Barney Hughes, Henry Edgar and Rogers intended to meet Stuart and his party at a given place, but on account of losing their horses they failed to make the connection, but arrived there three or four days after Stuart and his party had passed. They took their trail, making as good time as possible, with the expectation of overtaking them in two or three days. But, on the upper Yellowstone, they were met by a large party of Crow Indians who took them prisoners. And this is the reason why the “Bill Fairweather party” and “the James Stuart party” became separated. The consequence was that Fairweather and his men were forced to turn back, and, when returning from what they thought was an unfortunate trip, they discovered Alder Gulch, which proved afterwards to be the richest gulch in the world. And it appears to a man in the moon that the Crow chief had a hand in making this discovery, and likely if Bill Fairweather had thought of it he would have staked him a claim.
When the news reached Bannock that Fairweather’s party had made a rich discovery everybody rushed for the new Eldorado, and in a few days Bannock was almost deserted. June 6, 1863, the Fairweather district was organized (in Alder Gulch), with Dr. Steele president and James Fergus recorder. And then and there the sills and rafters of the State of Montana were hewn.
Since then over $85,000,000 has been taken out of this remarkable gulch.
Recently a correspondent of the Anaconda Standard had an interview with the Henry Edgar referred to, which interview was published in the “Standard” Sept. 5, 1899, from which the following extracts are taken. Mr. Edgar said:
“In February, 1863, I sold my claim, which was No. 8 on Stapleton’s bar at Bannock, and went to Deer Lodge to get an outfit for this expedition. We intended to join Stuart’s party, which left Bannock about the same time we departed from Deer Lodge. That was the latter part of April or the first part of May. We were in reality bound for the Black Hills. Simmons accompanied us as our guide. There were six in the party. We had got two days’ travel below the mouth of Clarke’s Fork in the neighborhood of Pompey’s Pillar, when we were captured by the Indians. There was no fighting. That would have been sure death, they so far outnumbered us. They took us into camp and made medicine over us for three days.
“It was jointly through Bill Fairweather and Lewis Simmons that we were saved. I do not understand why it was, but a rattlesnake would never bite Bill. When he saw one he would always take it up and carry it along with him. They never seemed to resent anything he would do with them and he never killed one. As we were going towards the Indian village he picked up a rattlesnake, and just at the outskirts of the village he picked up another. When the Indians saw him come in with a rattlesnake on each arm they were awed. He put the snakes in his shirt bosom and Simmons told the Indians that he was the great medicine man of the whites.
“They took us into the medicine lodge, where a large bush was placed in the center. They marched us around that several times and finally Bill said if they repeated it he would pull up the sacred medicine bush. They marched us around again and Bill pulled up the bush and walloped the medicine man on the head with it. We then were formed three to three, back to back. We had refused all along to give up our guns and revolvers. The old chief drove the other Indians back with a whip. They had a council which lasted from noon till midnight. In the meantime we were sentenced. If we proceeded they would kill us. If we turned back and relinquished our horses we would not be harmed. It was Hobson’s choice. I received for my three horses an old horse, blind in one eye, and a yearling colt. For my three pairs of Oregon blankets a buffalo robe and a half, and for my grub, consisting of flour, bacon, coffee, beans, etc., a dozen dried buffalo tongues. Simmons remained with the Indians.
“We came back on the north side of the Yellowstone, after one day’s travel. We met an old squaw, who warned us not to cross the river. We took up into the mountains and camped there until morning, fearful of the Indians. We then saw thirty or forty of them looking for our trail. We remained until night and then crossed to the south side of the river. We came up pretty near to Shield’s river or Twenty-five-Yard creek, where we crossed to the north. There we found the Indians were ahead of us and had gone over the hills toward West Gallatin. We came on over the pass where the city of Bozeman now lies, and saw the Indians coming up the valley. We concealed ourselves in the brush along the creek and exchanged shots with them. There was a parley. They agreed that if we came out they would not harm us, but we wouldn’t trust them. We waited until dark and then struck for the Madison river, crossed it and went into the hills between the Gallatin and the Madison. The following day we crossed the Madison river and came up what is now known as the head of Wigwam gulch. We camped beside a lake at the foot of Bald mountain. We killed an elk there, and remained during the afternoon and over night to dry and smoke the meat.
“The day after we came down by the lake and over the bridge to Alder gulch. That was on May 26, 1863, about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and the sun was shining brightly. Fairweather and I were to make camp and stand guard. The other four proceeded up the gulch, to what is now Highland, prospecting. About sundown Bill went across the creek to picket the horses.
“‘There is a piece of bed rock projecting,’ said Bill, ‘and we had better go over and see if we cannot get enough money to buy a little tobacco.’ So Bill took the pick and shovel and I took the pan and we crossed the creek. He dug the dirt up and shoveled it into the pan. I went down to the creek to wash it. While I was washing the dirt he scratched around in the bedrock with his butcher knife and picked out a piece of gold and called: ‘I’ve found a scad.’ I had the pan about half washed down and I replied: ‘If you have one I have a thousand.’ And so I had. That first pan weighed about $2.30. We washed three pans before dark and the three aggregated twelve dollars and some cents. As we finished, the other four returned tired and hostile because we hadn’t taken care of the horses. They had only found a color. I showed Sweeney what we had and asked him what he thought of the pan. ‘Salted, by G—d,’ exclaimed Sweeney. ‘You know well enough if you pike me down and run me through a sluice you couldn’t get a color,’ said I. Then all were in good humor. We had dried elk meat for supper.
“The next morning, as soon as daylight, we were all out. Sweeney’s first pan weighed five dollars. Hughes and Cover went up the gulch. Fairweather, Rogers, Sweeney and I went down. We staked two claims apiece, two hundred feet to the man, all connecting. We took fifty feet adjoining the claims on each side of the creek.
“We obtained about $180 that day altogether. We were tired and hungry and all out of provisions. As we panned the last gold we saw five antelope on the hill. Bill said to me: ‘Old man, if you ever looked straight for your supper, look straight now.’
“He went around one way and I went up the hill the other side, and each of us secured an antelope. We had neither coffee nor bread. Our supper consisted of antelope straight and visions of gold. We spent the next morning measuring the ground and staking it off. I wrote out the notices. The first I wrote was for Barney Hughes.
“‘What shall we call the gulch?’ I asked. ‘You name it,’ he said. So I called it Alder Gulch on account of the heavy clump of alders along the banks of the creek.”
Mr. Edgar was born in Dumfries, Scotland. He came to the United States when eighteen years of age. In 1850 he was in the Michigan lumber region; in 1857 he lived at Fergus Falls; in 1858 he was at Fort Geary, in the British possessions; in the fall of 1862 he was mining in Bannock and the following spring joined the party that discovered Alder gulch. Mr. Edgar is now past seventy-four years of age, and lives with his wife in a cozy mountain home near Plains, in Missoula county, in this state.
Robert Vaughn.
Sept. 25, 1899.
This expedition had the most desperate experience of any party of men in the Rocky mountains. They were chased by hostile Indians for hundreds of miles, endured untold privations, perils and hunger, some being killed; and during all this time they were in an unexplored region where assistance could not be obtained.
The first part of the history of this expedition has been given in the foregoing letter. The day the Fairweather party discovered Alder gulch the James Stuart party was being chased by Indians. The following are extracts from Captain Stuart’s diary, which he kept on that eventful prospecting trip in the “Yellowstone Country” in the spring of 1863.
“April 28, 1863.—We have traveled twenty miles today. About an hour before sundown, while lying around camp resting from the fatigues of the day, we were startled by hearing several guns fired from a clump of cottonwoods across the river, and immediately afterwards we saw about thirty Indians fording across. They came on a run, vociferating ‘How-dye-do,’ and ‘Up-sar-o-ka,’ which latter means ‘Crow Indians,’ in their language. By the time they were fairly in camp we had our horses all tied up, and every man prepared for emergencies. They first inquired who was our captain. I told them, and asked which was their captain. They showed me three, one big and two little ones. The large chief told me to have my men put all our things in the tents, and keep a sharp lookout or we would lose them. I then gave him a small piece of tobacco to have a grand smoke, and I also found that one of them, a very large man with a big belly, could talk the Snake Indian language, and he was at once installed as interpreter. They (the interpreter and chiefs) sat down in a circle and requested the pleasure of my company. I accepted the invitation, and our party soon stood guard over our horses. Meanwhile the other Indians began disputing with each other about who should have our best horses. I requested the chief to make them come from among the horses and behave themselves, which he did. At eight p. m. I put on double guard, and at ten p. m. all except the guard retired to rest. The Indians wandered around camp all night, like evil spirits; and such an odd night’s sleep as we had! Every few minutes somebody would have to rush out of his tent and capture something which the Indians would steal from under the tents, in spite of the guard, and this, too, when it was bright moonlight. At daylight I aroused the party, and we proceeded to ascertain our losses; each had lost something. As soon as we began to pack up they at once proceeded to forcibly trade horses, blankets, etc., and to appropriate everything they wanted. I saw that the time had come to do or die; therefore I ordered every man to be ready to open fire on them when I gave the signal. With one handful of cartridges and my rifle in the other, I told the Indians to mount their horses and go to their camp. They weakened, mounted their horses and left. Two of the chiefs, however, very politely requested to accompany us, which we refused, but they came along. After the Indians fed on the fragments of the breakfast, the chiefs and five others offered their robes, which we refused, I saying to keep them until we met again. After breakfast they went back and we traveled on down the river. After sundown we saw two Indians.
“April 29.—Started at sunrise accompanied by the two chiefs and six others. One of them had a letter from Agent Schoonover of Fort Union, which stated that the bearer was ‘Red Bear,’ one of the principal chiefs of the Crow nation. We gave them some supper, etc. He then presented me with a black horse; said he was all right; friend of ours, etc. Had a long talk with him, in the course of which he asked about old Jim Bridger, and also Peter Martin, desiring to know where they were and why they never came to see the Crows. The other Crows had told me that the Sioux had attacked the Fur Company’s express boat from Fort Benton, near Fort Union, and some said they had taken it, and others said they had killed some of the crew, but had not captured the boat. I asked Red Bear if it was so, and he replied that a rumor to that effect was current among the tribes, but he did not know whether it was true or not. When we retired to rest I gave orders to the guards not to kill, but take prisoners, any Indians which they might discover prowling around after our horses, and sure enough, about eleven p. m. they discovered one crawling up to two of our best horses that were tied to the same tree. They watched and waited until they got dead wood on him, and then captured him and called me up. I introduced him to Red Bear as one of his good Indians, who, he had just been telling me, would not annoy us any more, as he had told him not to, etc. He said the man was crazy and had no ears, etc. The old story, anything to excuse him. We had already had a practical illustration that stealing or attempting to steal is far from being considered a crime by even the best of them. We turned the thief loose, and early in the morning they all started back, leaving us alone in our glory. Traveled eighteen miles.
“April 30th.—Traveled all day down a valley between terraced table lands and buttes; valley about eight miles wide; snowy range to the west about eighty miles distant; no other snowy mountains in sight; low, open country around base of mountains. Camped three miles below the mouth of a large stream coming in on the south side; suppose it to be Clark’s Fork. I accepted Red Bear’s black horse last night and presented him my white mare in return. I thought at the time I had a little the best of it, but I found, during the day’s travel, that I was mistaken. We are so far away from any high mountains that all the party feel discouraged and lonesome. Give me the mountains in preference to plains, where one can see more level ground than he can ride over in a day. The ground is literally covered with young crickets. Between them and the grasshoppers I am afraid the grass will soon be used up. Course of river, six degrees north of east. Traveled fifteen miles.
“Friday, May 1, 1863.—About one o’clock last night Bostwick had his roan horse stolen while he and Greery were on guard. It was taken by two Indians, one of whom showed himself, but not plain enough to shoot at; while the guards were both watching to get a shot at him, his companion crawled into the other end of the camp and cut the horse loose and got away with him without attracting their attention; and this, too, when the moon was nearly at the full and without a cloud. Verily, the Crows are world-beaters, and words cannot do the subject justice. Fortunately, Bostwick was on guard himself, so he cannot charge anybody with carelessness. Course of river nearly northeast.”
The summary of the journal for the next eleven days is as follows: May 2d they saw large herds of buffalo and elk. May 3d they camped a few miles from Pompey’s Pillar. Arriving at this natural monument, they found the names of Captain Clarke and two of his men cut in the rock with the date, July 25, 1806. There were also two other names inscribed—Derick and Vancourt—dated May 23, 1834. On May 6th five men were detailed to cross the Big Horn river and survey a townsite and ranches, and another party of four was sent out prospecting for gold. On this day James Stuart and four others engraved their names on a sandstone up the river. On the 7th the party went up the west bank of the Big Horn, traveling eighteen miles that day. On the 8th they traveled fifteen miles through a desolate country. On the 9th the remains of an Indian were found buried up a tree. On the 11th a party of three white men was observed a little ways across the river; they would neither answer nor halt. It proved afterwards that this party were J. M. Bozeman and John M. Jacobs and his daughter, eight years old. They were on their way from the Three Forks of the Missouri river to Red Butte, on the North Platte river, and were then selecting a route for a wagon road, which was afterwards located and known as the “Jacobs and Bozeman cut-off.” This party had been chased by a party of Indians a few days before, and when they saw the Stuart party they at once mistook them for Indians. But two days afterwards they met about eighty mounted Indians. Knowing that they would be plundered of everything they had, if not murdered, Jacobs dropped his rifle and ammunition into a bunch of sage brush. Sure enough, the Indians did capture and stripped them of nearly everything they had and many were for killing them on the spot, but, after holding a kind of council, they let them go after giving them three miserable ponies for all their horses; most of their clothing and what provisions they had were taken away from them. They started off slowly until the Indians were out of sight, then returned and got Jacob’s gun and ammunition, but, unfortunately, there were but five bullets. Soon these were exhausted, and when they got through to North Platte they were in a famishing condition.
Again Mr. Stuart says: “May 13, 1863.—Last night Smith and I had the first watch, and about eleven o’clock the horses at my end were scared at something, but it was very dark and I could not see anything. I thought it might be a wolf prowling around the camp. A few minutes before eleven o’clock I sat up and lit a match to see what time it was, and also to light my pipe, but at once lay down again; we were both lying flat on the ground trying to see what made the horses so uneasy, and to this we owe our lives. Just then I heard Smith whisper that there was something around his part of the horse herd and a few seconds later the Crows fired a terrible volley into the camp. I was lying between two of my horses and both were killed and nearly fell on me. Four horses were killed and five more wounded, while in the tents two men were mortally, two badly, and three slightly wounded. Smith shouted, ‘Oh, you scoundrels!’ and fired both barrels of his shotgun, but, as far as we could tell next morning, without effect; he most probably fired too high. I could not fire, for the horses were in the way. I shouted for someone to tear down the tents to prevent their affording a mark for the murderous Indians a second time. York rushed out and tore them down in an instant. I then ordered all who were able to take arms and crawl out from the tents a little way and lie flat on the ground, and thus we lay until morning, expecting another attack each instant and determined to sell our lives as dearly as possible. When, at last, day dawned we could see a few Indians among the rocks and pines on a hill some five or six hundred yards away watching to see the result of their bloody work.
“An examination of the wounded presented a dreadful sight. C. D. Watkins was shot in the right temple, and the ball came out at the left cheek bone; the poor fellow was still breathing, but insensible. E. Bostwick was shot in five different places—once in the back of the shoulder, shattering the shoulder blade, but the ball did not come out in front; three balls passed through the right thigh, all shattering the bone, and one ball passed through the left thigh, which did not break the bone; he was sensible, but suffering terrible agony. H. A. Bell was shot twice—one ball entered at the lowest rib on the left side and lodged just under the skin on the right side; the other entered near the kidneys on the left side and came out near the thigh joint. D. Underwood was shot once, but the ball made six holes; it first passed through the left arm above the elbow, just missing the bone, and then passed through both breasts, which were large and full, just grazing the breast bone. H. T. Greery was wounded in the left shoulder blade with an arrow, but not dangerously hurt. George Ives was shot in the hip with a ball—a flesh wound; S. T. Hauser in the left breast with a ball, which passed through a thick memorandum book in his shirt pocket and lodged against a rib over his heart, the book saving his life. Several others had one or more ball holes through their clothes.”
Mr. Stuart continued his diary until they arrived at Bannock on June 22, 1863.
As the “Standard” man always camps on the trail of the pioneers, again, November 5, 1899, he met John Vanderbilt, who was with the James Stuart expedition of which I have spoke. During his conversation with the “Standard” reporter, Mr. Vanderbilt consented to give an account of that historical event. He said:
“We left Bannock on April 9, 1863. Our principal object was to explore the Wind, Big Horn, and the Stinking rivers. We got down among the Crows on the Yellowstone, when our troubles began. As we went into camp they tried to rob us of this thing and that, whatever happened to strike their fancy. We had a parley, but it did no good. They became so desperate that we had to show we were ready for action. There were probably thirty or forty Indians in the party, but they all gave in after we showed fight. That was in the latter part of April. They put down their bows and arrows and retreated. We immediately packed our camp and moved on. They followed along some distance behind. It was this band of Indians who turned back the Edgar and Fairweather party, which was just one day behind us.
“After that trouble we followed on down the Yellowstone, keeping guard at night. We frequently saw signs of the Indians, but had no more trouble for a few days. We camped seven days at the mouth of the Big Horn and laid out a townsite which we called Big Horn City. It still bears that name. We merely took a survey and platted the town, but took up no land. On May 3d we camped at Pompey’s Pillar, where we were much interested in reading the inscription bearing the names of Captain Clarke and two men, and the date, July 25, 1806.
“Then we started up the east side of the Big Horn river, crossed the Little Horn and went further up as far as the canyon. That was probably seventy-five miles from the mouth. On that night—the night of May 12th to 13th—took place our great fight with the Indians.
“It was just about midnight when the Indians attacked us. Stuart and Smith were on guard. They didn’t hear the Indians until they began firing on us. They first fired one or two shots and then a volley. Bostwick was the first one wounded. Then Watkins was shot through the head. Bell was shot in the side. A ball went through Underwood’s arm and into his breast. Another ball struck a memorandum book in Sam Hauser’s pocket and glanced onto a rib, saving his life.
“After this attack the Indians withdrew. Stuart told us, however, to lay low, as it is a common custom with Indians to attack again just before daylight. Some of our men were groaning, and in the darkness we could not tell the full extent of our casualties, nor could we tell at what moment the attack might be renewed. It was, indeed, a terrible night.
“Morning came without any further attack. Watkins died just about daylight. We found that three or four of our horses had been killed. Bostwick was badly wounded in the side. Bell was also severely injured. We held a consultation. To remain meant the certain extermination of the entire party. Yet we were reluctant to leave the wounded behind, and it was impossible to take them along. Sometime before we had all agreed that, in case we had a battle, each man would reserve one bullet for himself, so that he could not be captured and tortured. It was also agreed at that time if any were wounded he would not permit the others to remain behind to help him, but would end his own existence. It was, however, decided that if a man’s wound was not mortal the others were to stay with him. It was decided that Captain Stuart should be sole judge as to whether a man’s wound was mortal or not.
“That being the previous agreement, it was decided to wait until noon to see how serious the wounds of Bostwick and Bell might be. It was not considered possible to delay longer and save any of the party. All the forenoon the Indians were in sight on the side of the canyon. Stuart approached them and challenged them to come out and fight, but they made no response. As noon approached Bostwick asked us to go on and leave him, as he could not live long. We did not want to leave him while life was left in his body. He then asked Greery for a revolver, and at the last moment it was given him. He put the revolver up to his head and killed himself.
“We started at noon, leaving all our camp except provisions, for eight days. Bell said he couldn’t travel and didn’t want to kill himself, so we left him on the ground. We got about a quarter of a mile away, going toward the east, when we saw Bell motioning us to wait. We went back, put him on a horse, and he kept along with us. He got through all right.
“That same evening Greery accidentally shot himself with his rifle. We made the practice of laying our guns in the same place. His rifle, as he picked it up, became entangled in the sage brush, exploded and shot him. After fifteen or twenty minutes he begged us to kill him, as he said that he was suffering intensely and could not live. We refused, however. Finally, when it was necessary for us to go on, we let him have his revolver. He asked Stuart where the surest place for him to shoot himself was situated, and Stuart told him in the ear. All bade him good bye. I was the last to see him alive. I pleaded with him not to, but he said he couldn’t live long anyway. I stood on a little raise. He was behind it. He was very weak. He pulled the trigger, but it didn’t go off. Then he pulled a second time and killed himself. We dug a hole in the ground and buried him in his blanket. The Indians were constantly in sight during this time.
“We then packed up and continued that long and terrible journey. We traveled nights and rested part of the day. In that way the Indians following our tracks would almost overtake us, but we would get ahead again during the night. We suffered hardships that can never be told. We took only eight days’ provisions along after the battle, and that was soon consumed. One night we had nothing to eat. Then Stuart killed an antelope. The next day we had nothing but a fawn two or three days old, which made us all sick. After that we had plenty of buffalo meat, and for eight or ten days we had nothing else, and only alkali water to drink. For a long distance we traveled through snow two or three feet deep and would sometimes sink down into pools of ice water. While crossing the Big Horn range we were wet nearly all the time. We hadn’t been able to buy boots or shoes at Bannock and had nothing on our feet except moccasins. Crossing the Big Horn mountains we were guided by the stars, changing our course a good deal.
“We struck the Wind river above the canyon and followed it up, going in a southerly direction. Bell complained of pain all the time, so we could only go at a walk. When we crossed the divide we saw emigrant wagons on the road twelve miles away. Hauser felt so overjoyed he tied his handkerchief to a stick and hurrahed. Then we traveled rapidly along towards the road, which we soon reached. The emigrants thought we were Indians; we were so black and dirty, and they came out to fight us. We soon convinced them that we were all right. They let us have flour, potatoes and everything we wanted. They didn’t want to charge us, but we had plenty of money and so paid them for what we obtained. We went on to Pacific Springs, on the California road, by the Snake river to Bannock, which we reached sometime in June. We left Bell at a soldiers’ station, where the bullet was extracted, and he remained until he had recovered.”
Mr. Vanderbilt has made his home for several years past in New York state, but recently he returned to this state, where he has met many of his old-time friends. He says that the changes made in the “Rockies” by “Then and Now” are great, but that the old mountains that he used to climb in search of gold are the same; and that the high peaks that reached to welcome him back to his old camping ground are the same “now” as they were “then,” otherwise he would have thought that he was still in the East.
Robert Vaughn.
Nov. 14, 1899.
Having remained in Alder gulch all summer working in the mines for Boon and Vivian at ten dollars per day in gold dust, in December, 1864, four of us made a bargain with a man who had two small Mexican mules and an old spring wagon, to take us and our baggage to the new gold mines called Last Chance (now Helena). It was understood that we were to walk, and help the mules (or “Jerusalem ponies,” as one of the boys called them) up the hills. The little animals were not over thirteen hands high, and would weigh about 400 pounds each. We came down the Prickly Pear creek, where now the Montana Central railway is. “Then” there was no town of Clancy, nor a quartz mill nor a smelter on the creek; not a sound could be heard there, except that of the pick of the prospector on the mountains, hunting for gold. We kept on the trail until we got to the new Eldorado, where several hundred miners were at work; many were taking out gold in great quantities, others were prospecting their claims.
Before going any further we will stop a minute and listen to “Now” telling a short story in connection to the creek referred to. “A few days ago I was invited to go to the roundhouse at this place to see two new locomotives which had just arrived from the East. They were the largest in weight and dimensions ever built in any country up to that time, each weighing one hundred and fifty-four tons. Mr. Bruce, the master mechanic at the railway shops, informed me that they were to run on the Montana Central railway from Clancy, on Prickly Pear creek, and over the Rocky Mountain divide. Although this is one of the heaviest pulls in the country, the big engines each are to draw six hundred and seventy tons. Several hundred passengers are drawn over this divide every twenty-four hours, besides about seven thousand tons of freight, principally coal from Cascade county to Butte and Anaconda, and copper ore from the Butte mines to the copper smelters and refiners at the falls of the Missouri river, near Great Falls, and lead and silver ores to the East Helena smelter.
When looking at those two great locomotives I could not avoid thinking of the contrast between them and the two Mexican mules, and of the motive power on the old trail, and the motive power on the new. The little mules were thirteen hands high and drew one thousand pounds; each of the big locomotives is fifteen feet, or forty-five hands, high, and draws six hundred and seventy tons. It is to me like a dream to think of the great changes that have taken place since that time.
Then Helena was but a mining camp, consisting of but a few log cabins. There is where I helped to run a drain ditch, commencing at Discovery Claim, near where now stands the Montana Club building. We reached bed rock in the upper end of the city. Among the gravel in this drain ditch, about forty-five feet from the surface and near where the Helena fire department building is, a mastodon tooth was found; it was a grinder, three inches on top, six inches deep and eight inches lengthwise; it was as perfect as it was when it came from the monster’s mouth, when this northern country was a tropical region. In another claim a tusk was found like that of an elephant. Many other remains of animals have been found in mines and rock formations in the Rockies, showing that the Rocky mountain region has, at one time, been the home of animals that are not now in existence, at least not in the western hemisphere. It is estimated that thirty millions of dollars have been taken out of Last Chance gulch and its tributaries, and most of it from where the streets of Helena now are.