“A party of our people had been out a whole week in search of Hodgens, and found his dead horse, but despairing of finding him they returned to their camp; and all hope of ever finding Hodgens alive vanished: when he did come, their astonishment was equal to their delight. The friendly conduct of Ama-ketsa towards him was a strong proof of that chiefs good-will towards our people. During our friends’ stay in this place they had several surprises from the Indians, but they managed matters so well that no more of their horses were stolen.”
There is distinct reference in this volume to the Yellowstone National Park, which may very well have been visited by Ross or some of his trappers. He speaks of “Pilot Knobs”—the Three Tetons—salt and sulphur springs and of boiling fountains, some of them so hot as to boil meat. These allusions do not, of course, necessarily refer to Yellowstone Park, for there are many other places in the Rocky Mountains where such things are found, but the references to the Three Tetons and to the source of the Lewis River are suggestive enough.
Ross speaks also of various foods of the country; of the use of horse flesh and dog flesh and also of the Snake tobacco, which, for a time at least, the Indians preferred to that imported by the whites. He credits the Snake Indians with extraordinary skill in woodcraft, shown especially by the methods they employ to avoid possible enemies.
The time was now at hand when the Northwest Company should be merged into the Hudson Bay Company. This consolidation naturally cast a gloom over the retainers of the Northwest Company wherever they were situated. The people who had been employed by the Northwest Company were uncertain where they stood. Those who had been promoted prior to the “deed-poll”—March 26, 1821—were provided for by the Hudson Bay Company, whereas all others were excluded from these benefits. Some of them, however, received pecuniary compensation for their disappointment, and of these Ross was one, or he was told by an officer of the company that five hundred pounds sterling had been placed to his credit, but of this he never received a penny.
Ross now entered the service of the Hudson Bay Company. He had been for a short time with the Pacific Fur Company; had spent seven years with the Northwest Company and, except for his experience, was about where he had been when he started.
The servants of the Northwest Company had been in the habit of depositing their savings with the firm which was its head, and a few years after the consolidation of the two companies this concern failed and all these savings disappeared.
Toward the end of his first volume, after much information about Indians, half-breeds, trading, trappers, and travel, Ross draws an interesting picture of the manner in which the bourgeois—or proprietary partner—journeys through the fur country, and the absolute loyalty to him and to the company felt by the voyageurs, who were, indeed, the backbone of the northern fur trade. He says:
“The bourgeois is carried on board his canoe upon the back of some sturdy fellow generally appointed for this purpose. He seats himself on a convenient mattress, somewhat low in the centre of his canoe; his gun by his side, his little cherubs fondling around him, and his faithful spaniel lying at his feet. No sooner is he at his ease, than his pipe is presented by his attendant, and he then begins smoking, while his silken banner undulates over the stern of his painted vessel. Then the bending paddles are plied, and the fragile craft speeds through the currents with a degree of fleetness not to be surpassed;—yell upon yell from the hearty crew proclaiming their prowess and skill.
“A hundred miles performed, night arrives; the hands jump out quickly into the water, and their nabob and his companions are supported to terra firma. A roaring fire is kindled and supper is served; his honour then retires to enjoy his repose. At dawn of day they set out again; the men now and then relax their arms, and light their pipes; but no sooner does the headway of the canoe die away, than they renew their labours and their chorus: a particular voice being ever selected to lead the song. The guide conducts the march.
“At the hour of breakfast they put ashore on some green plot. The tea-kettle is boiling; a variegated mat is spread, and a cold collation set out. Twenty minutes—and they start anew. The dinner-hour arrives, they put aground again. The liquor-can accompanies the provision-basket; the contents are quickly set forth in simple style; and, after a refreshment of twenty minutes more, off they set again, until the twilight checks their progress.
“When it is practicable to make way in the dark, four hours is the voyageurs’ allowance of rest; and at times, on boisterous lakes and bold shores, they keep for days and nights together on the water, without intermission, and without repose. They sing to keep time to their paddles; they sing to keep off drowsiness, caused by their fatigue; and they sing because the bourgeois likes it.
“Through hardships and dangers, wherever he leads, they are sure to follow with alacrity and cheerfulness—over mountains and hills, along valleys and dales, through woods and creeks, across lakes and rivers. They look not to the right, nor to the left; they make no halt in foul or fair weather. Such is their skill, that they venture to sail in the midst of waters like oceans, and, with amazing aptitude, they shoot down the most frightful rapids; and they generally come off safely.
“When about to arrive at the place of their destination, they dress with neatness, put on their plumes, and a chosen song is raised. They push up against the beach, as if they meant to dash the canoe into splinters; but most adroitly back their paddles at the right moment; whilst the foreman springs on shore, and, seizing the prow, arrests the vessel in its course. On this joyful occasion, every person advances to the waterside, and great guns are fired to announce the bourgeois’ arrival. A general shaking of hands takes place, as it often happens that people have not met for years: even the bourgeois goes through this mode of salutation with the meanest. There is, perhaps, no country where the ties of affection are more binding than here. Each addresses his comrades as his brothers; and all address themselves to the bourgeois with reverence, as if he were their father.”
About this time, Mr. McKenzie retired from the fur trade and went to live in northern New York. This left without occupation a number of hunters and trappers in the country, where Ross was stationed, and Ross made up his mind to leave the country and abandon the business which he had so long followed. He was still merely a clerk in the service of the great company. Finan McDonald, a Northwest veteran, now in the service of the Hudson Bay Company, was to be in charge of the people in the Snake country, and a little later John Warren Dease, a chief trader in the new company, reached Fort Nez Percés and told Ross that he had been named to take charge of the fort and the country immediately about it, while Ross was to succeed McKenzie in charge of the Snake country.
Nevertheless, Ross was determined to go back to the East and had started with his family, but on his way—when he reached the Rocky Mountains—he received a letter from Governor Simpson, offering him the management of the Snake country for three years at a liberal salary. Ross hesitated to accept, but finally did so, and went to Spokane House to make up his party. McDonald had recently come in there and with much grumbling; for he had had trouble with the Piegan Blackfeet, in which one of his men had been shot by treachery, and in a pitched battle afterward had with the same party he lost seven more of his men.
The account of this battle may properly be inserted here:
“One day, when they had travelled until dark in search of water, they found some at the bottom of a deep and rocky ravine, down which they went and encamped. They had seen no traces of enemies during the day, and being tired, they all went to sleep, without keeping watch. In the morning, however, just at the dawn of day, they were saluted from the top of the ravine before they got up, with a volley of balls about their ears; without, however, any being killed or wounded: one of them had the stock of his gun pierced through with a ball, and another of them his powder-horn shivered to pieces; but this was all the injury they sustained from the enemy’s discharge. The alarm was instantly given, all hands in confusion sprang up and went out to see what was the matter; some with one shoe on and the other off, others naked, with a gun in one hand and their clothes in the other. When they perceived the Indians on the top of the rocks, yelling and flourishing their arms, the whites gave a loud huzza, and all hands were collected together in an instant; but the Indians instead of taking advantage of their position, wheeled about and marched off without firing another shot.
“McDonald, at the head of thirty men, set out to pursue them; but finding the ravine too steep and rocky to ascend, they were apprehensive that the sudden disappearance of the Indians was a stratagem to entrap them, when they might have been popped off by the enemy from behind stones and trees, without having an opportunity of defending themselves. Acting on this opinion, they returned, and taking a supply of powder and ball with them, they mounted their horses, to the number of forty-five, and then pursued the enemy, leaving twenty men behind to guard the camp. When our people got to the head of the ravine, the Indians were about a mile off, and all on foot, having no horses, with the exception of five for carrying their luggage; and our people, before they could get up with them, had to pass another ravine still deeper and broader than the one they were encamped in, so that before they got down on one side of it the enemy had got up on the other side. And here again the Indians did not avail themselves of their advantage, but allowed our people to follow without firing a shot at them, as if encouraging them on; and so bold and confident were they, that many of them bent themselves down in a posture of contempt, by way of bidding them defiance.
“As soon as our people had got over the second ravine, they took a sweep, wheeled about, and met the Indians in the teeth; then dismounting, the battle began, without a word being spoken on either side. As soon as the firing commenced, the Indians began their frantic gestures, and whooped and yelled with the view of intimidating; they fought like demons, one fellow all the time waving a scalp on the end of a pole: nor did they yield an inch of ground till more than twenty of them lay dead; at last, they threw down their guns, and held up their hands as a signal of peace. By this time our people had lost three men, and not thinking they had yet taken ample vengeance for their death, they made a rush on the Indians, killed the fellow who held the pole, and carried off the scalp and the five horses. The Indians then made a simultaneous dash on one side, and got into a small coppice of wood, leaving their dead on the spot where they fell. Our people supposed that they had first laid down their arms and next taken to the bush because they were short of ammunition, as many of the shots latterly were but mere puffs. Unfortunately for the Indians, the scalp taken proved to be none other than poor Anderson’s, and this double proof of their guilt so enraged our people, that to the bush they followed them.
“McDonald sent to the camp for buck-shot, and then poured volleys into the bush among them, from the distance of some twenty or thirty yards, till they had expended fifty-six pounds weight; the Indians all this time only firing a single shot now and then when the folly and imprudence of our people led them too near; but they seldom missed their mark, and here three more of the whites fell. At this part of the conflict, two of our own people, an Iroquois and a Canadian, got into a high dispute which was the bravest man; when the former challenged the latter to go with him into the bush and scalp a Piegan. The Canadian accepted the challenge; taking each other by one hand, with a scalping knife in the other, savage like, they entered the bush, and advanced until they were within four or five feet of a Piegan, when the Iroquois said, ‘I will scalp this one, you go and scalp another;’ but just as the Iroquois was in the act of stretching out his hand to lay hold of his victim the Piegan shot him through the head, and so bespattered the Canadian with his brains that he was almost blind; the latter, however, got back again to his comrades, but deferred taking the scalp.
“M’Donald and his men being fatigued with firing, thought of another and more effectual plan of destroying the Piegans. It blew a strong gale of wind at the time, so they set fire to the bush of dry and decayed wood; it burnt with the rapidity of straw, and the devouring element laid the whole bush in ashes in a very short time. When it was first proposed, the question arose who should go and fire the bush, at the muzzle of the Piegans’ guns. ‘The oldest man in the camp,’ said M’Donald; ‘and I’ll guard him.’ The lot fell upon Bastony, a superannuated hunter on the wrong side of seventy; the poor and wrinkled old man took the torch in his hand and advanced, trembling every step with the fear of instant death before him; while M’Donald and some others walked at his heels with their guns cocked. The bush was fired, the party returned, and volleys of buck-shot were again poured into the bush to aid the fire in the work of destruction.
“About one hundred yards from the burning bush, was another much larger bush, and while the fire was consuming the one, our people advanced and stationed themselves at the end of the other, to intercept any of the Piegans who might attempt the doubtful alternative of saving themselves by taking refuge in it. To ensure success, our people left open the passage from the one bush to the other, while they themselves stood in two rows, one upon each side, with their guns cocked; suddenly the half-roasted Piegans, after uttering a scream of despair, burst through the flames and made a last and expiring effort to gain the other bush; then our people poured in upon each side of them a fatal volley of ball and buck-shot, which almost finished what the flames had spared. Yet, notwithstanding all these sanguinary precautions, a remnant escaped by getting into the bush. The wounded victims who fell under the last volley, the Iroquois dealt with in their own way—with the knife.
“After the massacre was ended, our people collected their dead and returned to the camp at sunset; not we should suppose to rejoice, but rather to mourn. We afterwards learned that only seven out of the seventy-five which formed the party of the unfortunate Piegans, returned home to relate the mournful tale. Although our people were drawn into this unfortunate affair with justice on their side, yet they persevered in it with folly and ended it with cruelty: no wonder, then, if they afterwards paid for their cruelty with their own blood.”
After a short stay at Spokane House, Ross, who had been given—on paper—a force of eighty men, was able to get together only forty, a number of whom were quite unsatisfactory. At the Flathead River post, at the foot of the mountains, he picked up fourteen more, making the whole party fifty-five. It was a curious mixture of Americans, Canadian Frenchmen, half-breeds, Iroquois, natives of eastern Canada, Saulteaux, Crees, Spokanes, Kutenais, Flatheads, Kalispels, Palouse, and one Snake. Of the Canadians, five were more than sixty years of age, and two more than seventy. The Iroquois were good hunters, but untrustworthy, while the local Indians were useful chiefly in looking after the horses. Twenty-five of the people were married, so that in the company there were twenty-five women and sixty-four children. They carried with them a brass three-pounder cannon, more than two hundred beaver-traps, and about four hundred horses. It is understood, of course, that they carried no provisions, depending wholly on their guns for food, and Ross complains that on the day of starting they had killed but one deer, a slender repast for one hundred and thirty-seven hungry mouths.
Trouble with the Iroquois began almost at once. Having received their advances, they thought little about the debts that they owed for guns, horses, traps, clothing, and ammunition.
At a defile in Hell’s Gate, where the Piegans and Blackfeet used to cross the mountains on their war journeys, they camped for some little time, and here the hunters, to their great satisfaction, killed four wild horses, besides twenty-seven elk and thirty-two small deer. The capture of the horses was a great triumph for the hunters, who were more delighted with their success in this little adventure than if they had killed a hundred buffalo.
Not long after this, two Iroquois deserted and turned back, and the leader, having previously lost another Iroquois by desertion, felt that this must be stopped. He therefore followed the deserters about sixteen miles back on the trail and captured them, but they refused to return, and it was necessary to threaten to tie one of them to a horse’s tail before he would consent to go.
They were frequently meeting Indians; Piegans first and then Nez Percés, and whenever strangers were met with, the Iroquois traded off their property, even to their guns, receiving in return what Ross calls “trash.”
The weather was now growing cold, partly, perhaps, because they were climbing all the time. Beaver were plenty and elk, deer, and mountain goats extremely abundant. They were now getting close to the head of the Flathead River and were fronting great mountains, largely snow-covered. Six men were sent out to try to find a way through the mountains, and at length returned reporting that it was quite impracticable to cross the mountains here, because after reaching the plateau above the timber the snow was five or six feet deep for about twelve long miles. Beyond the mountains, however, they said, was a large open plain where the snow was scarcely a foot deep. These scouts had killed buffalo and brought in backloads of it. To travel with horses for a dozen miles, through snow five or six feet deep and crusted, was quite impossible, and Ross was bitterly discouraged. Nevertheless, he determined that this was the best way to cross the mountains, and sent the men back to camp, with instructions to greatly modify their story for the ears of the people. The outcome of it was that, after much counselling and more or less quarrelling, the party started to break a way through this snow-covered plateau. It proved much more difficult than even Ross had supposed, but by working with horses and men and using wooden mallets to break the crust, and shovels to cut the way, they at length, thirty-three days from the time they reached that camp and after twenty-one days’ extraordinary labor, got through the snow and came out on the other side, where there was feed for the horses and game for the men. Now, however, they were in the enemy’s country, for it was here that the Blackfeet were constantly travelling about, and just beyond here that McDonald had lost seven of his men the year before.
Just after they came down out of the mountains, they crossed the trail made by Lewis and Clark up the middle fork of the Missouri, nearly twenty years before.
After they had passed beyond the snow, they found beaver extraordinarily abundant in certain localities. At one place they took ninety-five beaver in a single morning and sixty more during the same day. But, as they continued to go down the mountains, the beaver became more scarce, but the snow was less. The young grass had started, and buffalo were enormously abundant, though at this time not fat. Blackfeet and Piegan war roads were constantly crossed, and fresh tracks of men and horses often seen. These signs made Ross more and more vigilant, and presently he discovered that his Iroquois were turning out their horses to wander among the hills, and although he warned them against repeating this, they paid little attention to the warning. Under such carelessness it was evident that any war-party discovering the trappers would have no difficulty in running off the animals. These, though nominally belonging to the individuals who used them, had been obtained on credit from the company, and if they were stolen, the loss would be the company’s. Only a day or two later, Martin, an Iroquois, was discovered to have turned loose six horses, whereupon Ross sent out for the horses, took them back into his own charge, gave Martin credit for the horses, and proceeded to move camp. Martin and his family remained sitting by the fire. However, the other Iroquois brought them along on some of their horses, and at night old men came to Ross to intercede with him, begging him to give back the horses to Martin. After much persuasion he did so, and the example was not forgotten either by the Iroquois or by others of the trappers.
The party proceeded eastward with disappointing results, for they found few beaver. Before long, therefore, they turned back, and, passing over the divide between the Salmon and Goddin Rivers, Ross sent off eight men to trap it downstream, but made them leave their horses behind, in order that they might more readily conceal themselves from the enemy, for Piegan Blackfeet were thought to be in the country. Meantime, the main party went off to John Day’s Valley to supply themselves with buffalo meat, for recently game had been scarce and they had been wasteful of food when they had passed through a country of abundance.
From a camp in Day’s Valley, two men were sent to Goddin River to bring back the eight who had been trapping there, and these messengers, carelessly advancing toward a smoke, which they took to be the fire of their own people, walked into the camp of a Piegan war-party. Their horses were captured, but the men threw themselves into the undergrowth and escaped by creeping along the margin of the river under its banks, which were overgrown with bushes. In the middle of the second night, they reached the camp in rags, with moccasins wholly worn out. A party of thirty-five started in pursuit of the Piegans. They did not overtake them, but found the eight trappers safe. They had slept within half a mile of the Piegan camp, neither party being aware of the presence of the other.
Passing over high, rough country, and pestered by the Iroquois, who spent most of their time in trying to get away from the main party, they reached the Rivière aux Malades. Ross now thought it best to let the Iroquois go off and hunt by themselves, but not all of them wished to go, and two of those who had given most trouble—Grey and Martin—preferred to remain with the main party. On the Malades River, there were good signs of beaver, and in one place they counted one hundred and forty-eight poplar trees cut down by that animal, in a space less than one hundred yards square. The first night they got fifty-two beaver, but were troubled by the rising and the falling of the water, caused, of course, by the melting of the snows on the mountains.
One afternoon a Piegan war-party, discovered approaching the camp, caused the greatest excitement. They did not attack, and presently Ross went out to meet them, gave them some tobacco, and told them to remain where they were. There were ninety-two Indians, and after a time Ross invited them to the camp, where they passed the night in smoking, dancing, and singing. Ross secured the Piegan arms, ordered forty of their horses hobbled and put in with the traders’ horses, and thus provided against any hostile action. These Piegans claimed to be on a peace mission to the Shoshoni, and denied all knowledge of the horses taken from the two trappers only a few days before. Ross believed that they felt themselves too few to attack his party and planning to give them a fright, he seized two of their horses and four of their guns, to repay the loss of the horses and traps on Goddin River. The Piegans were humble and apologetic and denied everything, and finally Ross returned their property and gave them a little tobacco and ammunition. They went off in separate parties, but before they disappeared in the mountains all gathered together again.
A little later another Piegan war-party came to the camp in Ross’s absence; but he returned before they had entered the camp. There were one hundred and ten of these, but they were badly armed, having only twenty-three guns and little or no ammunition. They professed to be friendly, and declared that they were not trying to take the property of the whites; for two nights before they had come into the camp and gone about among the horses, and had left evidences of their presence by moving a piece of meat which was roasting at the fire, and by rubbing two spots of red paint on a riding saddle at one of the tent doors. The chief who talked with Ross seemed so honest and frank that he was given some ammunition, tobacco, and a knife, and the two parties separated in a very friendly manner. Only a little later, they came across a Snake camp, to which also had come a number of Cayuse chiefs, and here were held ceremonial smokes and speeches, of a most friendly character.
Dropping down Reid’s River and trapping constantly, the party at last reached another great Snake camp. By this time they had 1,855 beaver. In this neighborhood there was more or less trouble. The Indians practised all sorts of stratagems to secure the horses of the trappers, and did succeed in getting ten of them, eight of which were later returned. The natives also took a number of traps. Moreover, as they were not punished for what they did, their boldness grew, and at last an Indian picked up a bundle and when it was taken from him by force, he strung his bow and threatened to shoot the man. Ross gave his people much good advice, and pointed out that if they would stick together they were perfectly able to cow the Snakes; but they must act together. His plan was to capture and hold ten of the Indians’ horses as security for property that had been taken. They went out and caught the horses, and when they returned with them to the camp, finding two Indians there, they counted out one hundred bullets, and loaded their cannon, letting the Indians see what was being done, and sent a message to the camp that as soon as the stolen traps had been delivered, they would give up the horses.
“When the two Indians had returned with the message to their camp, I instructed my people to have their arms in readiness, in such a position that each man could have his eye upon his gun, and could lay hold of it at a moment’s warning; but to appear as careless as if nothing was expected. That if the Indians did come, as they certainly would, to claim their horses, and insisted on taking them, I would reason the matter with them; and when that failed, I would give the most forward of them a blow with my pipe stem, which was to be the signal for my people to act. The moment, therefore, the signal was given, the men were to shout according to Indian custom, seize, and make a demonstration with their arms; but were not to fire, until I had first set the example. During this time there was a great stir in the Indian camp; people were observed running to and fro, and we awaited the result with anxiety.
“Not long after, we saw a procession of some fifty or sixty persons, all on foot and unarmed, advancing in a very orderly manner towards our camp; in front of which was placed our big gun, well loaded, pointed, and the match lit. My men were in the rear, whistling, singing, and apparently indifferent. On the Indians coming up to me and another man, who stood in front to receive them near to where the horses were tied, I drew a line of privilege, and made signs for them not to pass it. They, however, looked very angry, and observed the line with reluctance, so that I had to beckon to them several times before I was obeyed, or could make them understand. At last they made a sort of irregular halt.
“I then made signs for the Indians to sit down; but they shook their heads. I asked where was Ama-ketsa; but got no satisfactory reply. One of the fellows immediately introduced the subject of the horses, in very fierce and insolent language; I however, to pacify him, and make friends, spoke kindly to them, and began to reason the matter, and explain it to them as well as I could; but the fellow already noticed, being more forward and daring than the rest, sneered at my argument, and at once laid hold of one of the horses by the halter, and endeavoured to take it away without further ceremony. I laid hold of the halter, in order to prevent him, and the fellow every now and then gave a tug to get the halter out of my hand; the others kept urging him on, and they were the more encouraged, seeing my people did not interfere; the latter were, however, on the alert, waiting impatiently for the signal, without the Indians being in the least aware of it. Beginning to get a little out of humour, I made signs to the Indian, that if he did not let go, I would knock him down; but, prompted no doubt by the strong party that backed him, and seeing no one with me, he disregarded my threat by giving another tug at the halter. I then struck him smartly on the side of the head with my pipe stem, and sent him reeling back among his companions; upon which my men sprang up, seized their arms, and gave a loud shout! The sudden act, with the terror conveyed by the cocking of so many guns, so surprised the Indians that they lost all presence of mind; throwing their robes, garments, and all from them, they plunged headlong into the river, and swam with the current till out of danger, every now and then popping up their heads and diving again, like so many wild fowl! In less than a minute’s time, there was not a soul of the embassy to be seen about our camp! Never was anything more decisive.
“It may be satisfactory to the reader to know what kind of pipe stem it was that one could strike a heavy blow with. The pipe-bowls generally used, both by Indians and Indian traders, are made of stone, and are large and heavy; the stems resemble a walking-stick more than anything else, and they are generally of ash, and from two-and-a-half to three feet long.
“We had intended removing camp the same day; but after what had happened, I thought it better to pass another day where we were, in order to give the Snakes as well as ourselves an opportunity of making up matters. Not a soul, however, came near us all that day afterwards, and we were at a loss to find out what was going on in the Snake camp. I therefore got about twenty of my men mounted on horseback, to take a turn round, in order to observe the movements of the Indians, but they having brought me word that the women were all employed in their usual duties, I felt satisfied.
“During the following day, ten persons were observed making for our camp, who, on arrival, spread out a buffalo robe, on which was laid all our stolen traps! some whole, some broken into several pieces, which they had been flattening for knives; the whole rendered almost useless to us. Ama-ketsa, who had not been present at the affray of the preceding day, accompanied this party, and made a long and apparently earnest apology for the loss of our traps, and the misunderstanding that ensued; but he did not forget to exculpate his own people from all blame, laying the odium of the whole affair on the Banatees. We knew the contrary: the War-are-ree-kas were the guilty parties, and perhaps Ama-ketsa himself was not altogether innocent; at least, some of his people said so. We, however, accepted the apology, and the traps, as they were; and delivering up all the horses, treated the chief with due honours, satisfied that the business ended so well.
“The chief had no sooner returned to his camp with the horses, than a brisk trade was opened; the Indians, men, women, and children, coming to us with as much confidence as if nothing had happened. On the next morning, while we were preparing to start, one of my men fell from his horse and broke his thigh; we, however, got it so set, as not to prevent our removal. Although everything wore the appearance of peace, yet I thought it necessary to take precautions, in order to avoid any trouble with the natives in passing their camp. I therefore appointed ten men mounted on horseback to go before, the camp followed in order after, while myself and twenty men brought up the rear; and all was peace and good order.”
After a wide round from here they found themselves again on the Malades River, where thirty-seven of the people were poisoned, apparently by beaver meat, and it was from this circumstance that the river got its name. Just beyond this, they captured a Bannock, by whom they were told that the beavers with the white flesh—supposedly poisonous—were always roasted by the Indians and never boiled; unless roasted the meat was bad.
At a point on the Bear River the travelling party observed two animals apparently playing in the water, and on approaching the place these were found to be black bears, one of which was shot. They found that the bears were apparently hunting a beaver which was found concealed in the shoal water, and the signs seemed to indicate that this was a hunting-place where the bears often came to kill beaver.
Returning to Canoe Point, they rested for a couple of days. Their horses, which, of course, were unshod, had become very tender-footed, and they provided moccasins—so to speak—for no less than twenty-seven head. This, of course, is an old Indian practice. Not far from here they found buffalo in great numbers, and began to kill and dry meat, and just here Ross gives interesting testimony with regard to some characteristics of the buffalo which is worth repeating in these days, when the buffalo are no longer with us:
“While on the subject of buffalo, we may notice that there is perhaps not an animal that roams in this, or in the wilds of any other country, more fierce and formidable, than a buffalo bull during the rutting season: neither the Polar bear, nor the Bengal tiger, surpass that animal in ferocity. When not mortally wounded, buffalo turn upon man or horse; but when mortally wounded, they stand fiercely eyeing their assailant, until life ebbs away.
“As we were travelling one day among a herd, we shot at a bull and wounded him severely—so much so, that he could neither run after us, nor from us; propping himself on his legs, therefore, he stood looking at us till we had fired ten balls through his body, now and then giving a shake of the head. Although he was apparently unable to stir, yet we kept at a respectful distance from him; for such is the agility of body and quickness of eye, and so hideous are the looks of buffalo, that we dared not for some time approach him: at last, one more bold than the rest went up and pushed the beast over;—he was dead! If not brought to the ground by the first or second shot, let the hunter be on his guard! The old bulls, when badly wounded and unable to pursue their assailant, prop themselves, as we have seen, and often stand in that position till dead; but the head of a wounded bull, while in an upright position, is invariably turned to his pursuer; so if the hunter be in doubt, let him change his position, to see if the bull changes his position also. The surest mark of his being mortally wounded and unable to stir, is, when he cannot turn his head round to his pursuer; in that case, you may safely walk up and throw him down.
“The wild cow calves generally at one period, and that period later by a month than our tame cattle; then they all, as if with one accord, withdraw themselves from the mountains and rocks, and resort in large families to the valleys, where there is open ground, with small clumps of wood affording shelter and preservation; as there they can see the approach of an enemy from afar. The cows herd together in the centre, and the bulls graze in the distance: all in sight of each other.
“The calving season is May, when the heat of the sun is sufficiently strong for the preservation of their young in the open air; during which time the herd feeds round and round the place as if to defend the young calves from the approach of an enemy or from wolves. The resident Indian tribes seldom hunt or disturb the buffalo at this season, or before the first of July. The Indians often assured me, that, during the calving season, the bulls keep guard; and have been frequently known to assemble together, in order to keep at a distance any wolves, bears or other enemies, that might attempt to approach the cows.”
A party sent after the Iroquois, who had gone off to trap by themselves, returned on the 14th of October, bringing with them not only the ten Iroquois but also seven American trappers. The Iroquois had had their usual success. They had no beaver, no traps, were naked and destitute of almost everything, and were in debt to the American trappers for having been brought to the Three Tetons. According to their story, they had been attacked by a war-party and robbed of nine hundred beaver, all their steel traps, and twenty-seven horses. Ross had the small satisfaction of saying to them, “I told you so,” but this did not bring back the lost property. On the other hand, other stories were told by certain of the Iroquois, which suggested that perhaps the Iroquois had sold their beaver to the Americans.
It was not long before another war-party made its appearance, causing the usual excitement and alarm, but these proved to be Nez Percés who had started for the Blackfeet to steal horses. Before they got there, the Blackfeet discovered and ambushed them, killing six of the Nez Percés.
The newcomers warned Ross that enemies were about, and as the trapping party was just about to enter a narrow valley, Ross with thirty-five men set out to examine it before the main party entered. They had looked it partly over, when they saw distant Indians hurrying to cover, and pursued them. The strangers got into the timber. The trappers asked the Indians to come out of the woods and smoke, and the Indians invited them to come into the woods and smoke; but neither party accepted the invitation. The Indians claimed to be Crows, but Ross believed they were Blackfeet. The traders picked up some robes, arms, and moccasins, thrown away in flight, which they left near the hiding-place of the Indians, and were just about to return, when, as they were mounting, they saw what looked like a large party of people coming. They made preparations for a fight, and then discovered that the approaching body consisted of a large band of horses, driven by four men. Ross with fifteen men charged toward the horses, whose drivers fled, leaving the herd. Among the horses were forty-three which belonged in Ross’s camp and one of those taken from the two trappers sent as messengers to the Goddin River party. The trappers overtook and captured three of the Indians and took them back to the camp. There a court-martial was held and the three captives were condemned to die, but Ross the next morning succeeded in letting them escape.
The return to the Flathead House was devoid of any special events save those of ordinary prairie and mountain travel. On the way they had to pass through deep snows and across frozen rivers where the ice was not always safe, and at one such point they lost a horse, and two of the men came near sharing its fate. They reached there the last of November.
The results of the trip amounted to five thousand beaver, exclusive of other furs—a very successful summer.
In a note appended to a brief vocabulary of the Snake language given by Ross he makes the following interesting prophecy: “I can state with undiminished confidence, that the Snake country towards the Rocky Mountains is, and will be, rich in furs for some generations to come, and full of interest to men of enterprise. Indeed, the dangers by which it was then, and still is, in a more or less degree, surrounded, will always tend to preserve the furs in that inland quarter.”
Little more than two generations have passed, and the fur in what used to be the Snake country has absolutely disappeared. The dangers from Indians have long been forgotten, though among the Indians toward the coast the tradition of the terrible Blackfeet yet persists, and they still speak of the Blackfeet as “bad people.”
The following spring Governor Simpson wrote to Ross, asking him to try and procure two Indian boys to be educated at the Red River Colony. Ross succeeded in getting a Kutenai and a Spokane boy, each ten or twelve years old. They were given up by the Indians with great regret. One of the fathers said: “We have given you our hearts—our children are our hearts; but bring them back again to us before they become white men—we wish to see them once more Indians—and after that, you can make them white men, if you like.” The Kutenai boy died after two or three years at school, but some years later the Spokane boy returned to his people. He did not turn out very well.
The next spring Ross started to Spokane House to turn in his furs, and then finally to leave the fur trade. Here he met Governor Simpson, who promised him a situation in Red River Colony until such time as he should be able to establish himself. The governor started back with the party. The return journey was long and laborious. Isolated parties of Indians were met, in all of whom Ross took keen interest. He gives a graphic description of travel through mountains, and draws a picture which gives some idea of the difficulties of the journeys made by these early travellers, and of the hardihood and endurance of those who performed them.
Little does the traveller of the present day, hurrying along by train, or by steamboat, comprehend the constant labor of those early days.
They were journeying on foot up the course of a winding, rushing river:
“When the current proves too strong or the water too deep for one person to attempt [to cross] it alone, the whole join hands together, forming a chain, and thus cross in an oblique line, to break the strength of the current; the tallest always leading the van. By their united efforts, when a light person is swept off his feet, which not unfrequently happens, the party drag him along; and the first who reaches the shore always lays hold of the branches of some friendly tree or bush that may be in the way; the second does the same, and so on till all get out of the water. But often they are no sooner out than in again; and perhaps several traverses will have to be made within the space of a hundred yards, and sometimes within a few yards of each other; just as the rocks, or other impediments bar the way. After crossing several times, I regretted that I had not begun sooner to count the number; but before night, I had sixty-two traverses marked on my walking-stick, which served as my journal throughout the day.
“When not among ice and snow, or in the water, we had to walk on a stony beach, or on gravelly flats, being constantly in and out of the water: many had got their feet blistered, which was extremely painful. The cold made us advance at a quick pace, to keep ourselves warm; and despatch was the order of the day. The Governor himself, generally at the head, made the first plunge into the water, and was not the last to get out. His smile encouraged others, and his example checked murmuring. At a crossing-place there was seldom a moment’s hesitation; all plunged in, and had to get out as they could. And we had to be lightly clad, so as to drag less water. Our general course to-day was north-east, but we had at times to follow every point of the compass, and might have travelled altogether twenty miles, although in a direct line we scarcely advanced eight. The ascent appeared to be gradual, yet the contrary was indicated by the rapidity of the current. After a day of excessive fatigue, we halted at dusk, cooked our suppers, dried our clothes, smoked our pipes, then, each spreading his blanket, we laid ourselves down to rest; and, perhaps, of all rest, that enjoyed on the voyage, after a hard day’s labour, is the sweetest.
“To give a correct idea of this part of our journey, let the reader picture in his own mind a dark, narrow defile, skirted on one side by a chain of inaccessible mountains, rising to a great height, covered with snow, and slippery with ice from their tops down to the water’s edge. And on the other side, a beach comparatively low, but studded in an irregular manner with standing and fallen trees, rocks, and ice, and full of drift-wood; over which the torrent everywhere rushes with such irresistible impetuosity, that very few would dare to adventure themselves in the stream. Let him again imagine a rapid river descending from some great height, filling up the whole channel between the rocky precipices on the south and the no less dangerous barrier on the north. And lastly, let him suppose that we were obliged to make our way on foot against such a torrent, by crossing and recrossing it in all its turns and windings from morning till night, up to the middle in water,—and he will understand that we have not exaggerated the difficulties to be overcome in crossing the Rocky Mountains.”
At last the party reached the summit of the Rocky Mountains, and passing by the Rocky Mountain House, took canoes. Here they found Joseph Felix Larocque, and from here they went on down the Athabasca in canoes to Jasper House and to Fort Assiniboine; and there again changing to horses, at last reached Edmonton. This was then the centre of a great trade, and was under charge of Mr. Rowan, chief factor of the Hudson Bay Company, and earlier a partner in the Northwest Company.
The further journey back toward the Red River was marked by the meeting, near Lake Bourbon—Cedar Lake—with Captain Franklin and Dr. Richardson on their overland Arctic expedition.
At Norway House Governor Simpson stopped, while Ross was to keep on eastward. Governor Simpson, after again trying to persuade Ross to remain in the service of the company, made him a free grant of one hundred acres of land in the Red River Settlement, and paid him many compliments on his efficiency and success in the Snake country.
With a party of twenty-seven people, a motley crew of incompetents, Ross started from Norway House for Red River. He quotes an interestingly boastful speech by an ancient French voyageur:
“‘I have now,’ said he, ‘been forty-two years in this country. For twenty-four I was a light canoe-man; I required but little sleep, but sometimes got less than I required. No portage was too long for me; all portages were alike. My end of the canoe never touched the ground till I saw the end of it. Fifty songs a day were nothing to me. I could carry, paddle, walk, and sing with any man I ever saw. During that period, I saved the lives of ten bourgeois, and was always the favourite, because when others stopped to carry at a bad step, and lost time, I pushed on—over rapids, over cascades, over chutes; all were the same to me. No water, no weather, ever stopped the paddle or the song. I have had twelve wives in the country; and was once possessed of fifty horses, and six running dogs, trimmed in the first style. I was then like a bourgeois, rich and happy: no bourgeois had better-dressed wives than I; no Indian chief finer horses; no white man better-harnessed or swifter dogs. I beat all Indians at the race, and no white man ever passed me in the chase. I wanted for nothing; and I spent all my earnings in the enjoyment of pleasure. Five hundred pounds, twice told, have passed through my hands; although now I have not a spare shirt to my back, nor a penny to buy one. Yet, were I young again, I should glory in commencing the same career again. I would gladly spend another half-century in the same fields of enjoyment. There is no life so happy as a voyageur’s life; none so independent; no place where a man enjoys so much variety and freedom as in the Indian country. Huzza! huzza! pour le pays sauvage!’ After this cri de joie, he sat down in the boat, and we could not help admiring the wild enthusiasm of the old Frenchman. He had boasted and excited himself, till he was out of breath, and then sighed with regret that he could no longer enjoy the scenes of his past life.”
On the journey there was excitement enough, storms and running aground—usual incidents of canoe travel—but at last they reached Red River, and Ross’s fur trading journeys were over.