Tukuarikas or Sheepeater Indians— “Tuku” means “mountain sheep” and “arika,” “eat,” or “Sheepeater.” They were a slender, wiry people who possessed neither ponies nor firearms but used bows and arrows effectively. They wore furs and skins and lived among the rocks in the Gardner River canyon in Yellowstone and in the Salmon River Mountains of central Idaho. There were some two hundred Indians in the Yellowstone tribe. Their main support was from game and fish. These Indians did not possess any distinctive culture of their own, but, hermit-like, they seemed concerned only to carry on by themselves until further notice.

The Flatheads— This tribe lived in western Montana. The Flatheads roamed the prairie between Glacier National Park and the Bitter Root Range. Lake Flathead was their favorite rendezvous. These Indians supposedly derived their name from an ancient practice of shaping or deforming the head during infancy. However, in 1830, Ferris claimed that not one living proof of that practice could be found among them. They called themselves “Salish” and spoke a language remarkable for its melody and simplicity. They were noted for humanity, forbearance, and honesty. They were certainly one of the few tribes in the Rocky Mountains who could boast that they never killed or robbed a white man nor stole a single horse.

The Blackfeet— This was a branch of the great Algonquian Nation. They were the Ishmaelites of the west; indeed, they were the most “teutonic” of all American Indians. Their hands were against every man, and the hands of all men, both red and white, were against them.[73] Their habitat was the Marias River Valley in Montana, but they were known as the devils of the mountains and prairies. All who knew them agreed with trader Bird’s observation made to Kenneth McKenzie: “When you know the Blackfeet as well as I do you will know that they do not need any inducements to commit depredations.” They were always hostile and predatory, and their wanderings were most extensive. The tribal name, meaning “Siksi,” “black,” and “kah,” “foot,” alluded to feet made black by roving through the ashes of regions devastated by fires. The Blackfeet were great meat eaters and because of their energy they were generally well supplied. They had horses and guns from an early time, and they wore leather clothing, often highly decorated with beadwork.

The Absaroka or Crow Nation— Absaroka means sparrow hawk. The name was derived from a species found in Mexico. Does that imply a southern origin? Surely the name suggests their nefarious traffic in stolen horses. They would steal them on one side of the range and dispose of them on the other.[74] This was the strongest band of mountain Indians. That is to say, Crowland was a transitional area that skirted the east slope of the Rockies along the Yellowstone and Bighorn rivers. Therefore, these people were masters of both plain and defile. They were notorious travelers. They roved in several villages of six or seven hundred each. In fact, the phrase “all-pervading Crows” implies the character of their winging flight from mountain to prairie. Indeed, they prided themselves upon their superiority over all other nations. The men were tall, active, intelligent, and brave. They had a particular penchant for adornment. Rows of elk’s teeth trimmed their garments. Men wore long hair; women, short. They referred to themselves as “Absaroka” with great esteem. The tribal slogan was “Bac’ dak Ko’m Ba wiky,” meaning “While Crow live, Crow carry on.”

They were a well-disciplined people. Women were given a voice in council but were most noted for their industry and skill. According to Warren A. Ferris, Crow women were notoriously unfaithful, which, if true, was measurably contrary to the general condition among Indians. Among the men lust for fame was the end and purpose of life. Crow war psychology was a blend of cruelty, vanity, greed, foolhardiness, and magnificent courage. Old Sapsucker was the most famous Crow Chieftain. He won this distinction by many years of fighting. Horses were at once their passion and glory. Even infants of two years could ride, while older youths rode horses that careened and dashed up and down among the most dangerous places. The nation of 3,500 people owned some 10,000 horses. Adult Crow horsemen were unexcelled. They combined agility and dignity to an unusual degree. Mounted on fine-mettled animals, without saddle or bridle, and bounding bare-bodied over the prairie in the panoply of speed and power, they were fine pictures to behold!

Crows made free booty of everything that chanced in their way. Horses in particular were the objects of their depredations. They developed astonishing skill and audacity in capturing them. As horse thieves they were world-beaters. “No legislative body on earth ever made an appropriation with half the tact, facility, and success.” The following represents the mature judgment of James Stuart:

One thing is certain: They can discount all the thieves I ever saw or heard of; in short, they have to be seen to realize their superiority over all thieves, either white, red, or black, in the world. They would steal the world-renowned Arabs poor in a single hour.[75]

Other mountain Indians whose activities had less bearing upon the Yellowstone area were the Herantsa or Gros Ventres. They referred to themselves by the former name; whereas the latter was a French designation. Of course, it was inappropriate because they did not have large paunches. Their homeland was the Wind River range.

East of Wind River lies the Laramie Plains, and there lived a band named Cheyennes. They were civil, well-behaved people, cleanly in their persons and decorous in their habits. The men were tall and vigorous, with aquiline noses and high cheek bones. Some were almost as naked as ancient statues and might well have stood as models for that purpose.

East of the Crow and Cheyenne homelands ranged various divisions of the great Siouan family. The Sioux of Dakota, Arapaho, Omaha, and Mandan were the most distinct clans on the near-eastern slope of the Rockies. These tribes were typical of the plains Indians and as mutually hostile as any of the others.[76]

Indian proper names were more appropriate than those given by the settlers. Some of the latter were commonplace, stupid, and, at times, ribald. The aboriginal tribes sensed the magnificence of nature. Therefore, their characterizations were both significant and euphonious. Montana was derived from “Tay-a-be-shock-up,” “country of the mountains” or “land of the everlasting hills.” Wyoming means “land of shining prairies.” Utah means “the home of the high-ups,” and Idaho, “sun descending upon the mountains.”

All in all, the Indian regime of life was a curious blend of love and hate, of work and warfare. Indian life had as many facets as there were periods, places, and tribes involved.

Chapter IV
PORTRAIT OF A TRAPPER BRIGADE

The character of the barbarian elements that encircled the Yellowstone area has been given. Their position was sufficiently menacing to prevent penetration of the continental crown except by a chosen few. The relation of the trapper’s activity to the Park can only be appreciated by an examination of the subject himself.

The Rocky Mountain fur trappers were a distinct group. They were just as singular in dress, interests, skills, and general characteristics as the cowboys and miners who succeeded them. When was their genesis and exodus? It falls entirely within the scope of nineteenth century history. Hence, the record is clear; it has few legendary figures. However, a generalized characterization would seem appropriate. Their predecessors were the earlier explorers of several nations, French, Spanish, English, with a sprinkling of other races. All of these elements pressed ever westward, chained by neither time nor distance. In their migrations from Kentucky to the River of the West (Missouri) excitement had become as necessary as life itself; adventure, as the breath of their nostrils. Until 1810 those woodsmen found hunting and trapping on the plains sufficiently challenging, but after the return of Lewis and Clark they donned buckskin suits and moved into the Rockies. From these shining mountains they were not to emerge until they learned by heart the geography upon the sundown side of the wide Missouri.

The French couriers of the woods were best endowed by nature for this roving life. Their easygoing temperament inclined them toward song and laughter. Their courage and gallantry adorned the barren path of life with the varied hues of their mercurial spirits. They never failed to adjust to the circumstances at hand, and the speculative character of enterprise could not wear them down. The Englishman had the necessary foresight and tenacity to effect such an organization and procedure as best calculated to bring adequate financial returns.

However, the supreme mountain scouts were of American vintage. The best in the west were cool, longheaded, deadly-shooting backwoodsmen from Kentucky and Virginia. They had what it took to deal with Indian treachery, wild beasts, and constant danger in a thousand forms. The fur business demanded men of great force and energy. Hence, the successful trappers were hard-working, hard-fighting men inured to hardship and exposure. Their vanity was in fast riding, straight shooting, prowess in trapping and trailing, and enduring privation without wincing. However, most of them were capable of complete relaxation in the fashion of drinking and gambling. In fact, they were “white Injuns” and proud of the same class of achievements. The tides of trapper fortune were capricious. One year they rolled with promise; the next were empty as a beach. The competition was always keen, and they were ever on the move. “Old Roustabout,” “Perpetual Motion,” “Never Quit,” and “Knock ’Em Stiff Hawkeye” were current nicknames in the Order. Some of them became veritable walking maps possessed of uncanny perception of distance, condition, and landmarks. All this knowledge was susceptible to sudden erasure by one deft blow of a tomahawk. Surely every trapper fully understood the meaning of the old Hudson Bay Company motto, “A skin for a skin.”

The passing of time, together with kindly, indiscriminate sentimentality toward the lore of the Old West, has enveloped all of her buckskin-fringed denizens in an enchanting blanket of romance. Legend endows them with a uniform mantle of heroism and self-sacrifice. No great effort ought to be made to drag frontiersmen from these generous folds of fiction, because such a course might evoke the other extreme of shouting “Ichabod.” However, a correct comprehension of reality should be the intelligent observer’s constant aim.

Tramping this western wilderness was hardy-man’s-pie, and one may search in vain for “cream puffs” in the trapper fraternity. Among this advance guard of the human flood were turbulent spirits. Surely persons of the wild and reckless type have their place in pioneering the way for the more conforming populace. Although they were generally of a kindred spirit, no company personnel ever conformed to a particular type. Indeed, a more heterogeneous assemblage could not be imagined. Some were cross-grained and lazy; some, young or superannuated; others, half-breed and faithless—a real challenge to the leadership of their employer. In time the ordinary men were weeded out, but those remaining were still as diverse as humans could be.

However, it was not as conscious agents of civilization that these rowdies entered the west. They reacted to the eternal impulse of personal curiosity and profit. For such ends they willingly perambulated the dreariest wastes, always at home, living from meal to meal, from day to day. Chance and danger were their daily lot and they gained the rare capacity to accept whatever came with good graces. Pleasant experiences produced rollicking good humor; hardships and trying scenes were soon forgotten. They became absolutely fearless, for destruction stalked them on every side in the form of famine, blizzard, wild beasts, and wilder savages. Death was a constant threat, but its grimaces only tended to develop men of nerve and hardihood who delighted in reckless feats. The trapper’s universal insensibility to danger proves that the human mind, habituated to constant risk, becomes callous like the body subjected to exposure. There was the hazard of perishing from hunger and thirst, of being cut off by war parties of the Sioux who scoured the plains, of having their horses stolen by Absarokas who infested the skirts of the mountains, or of being butchered by the Blackfeet who lurked among the defiles.

Trapping did not require literacy, but skill was indispensable to success. The trapper had his A-B-C’s to master. Any neglect of these lessons was at his peril. They were fur, meat, and danger. Signs of beaver, buffalo, and Indians must be read with the utmost accuracy. How did he perfect his craft?

Beginning with the objects about him, the trapper observed everything minutely. He learned to read the meaning of a turned leaf, a broken twig, and the behavior of domestic and wild animals. He achieved an intimate association with nature, and she talked to him. Not only did he form indelible impressions of topography by discerning senses, but he talked about them around the campfire. Each trapper learned from the others. One referred to this process as the Rocky Mountain college course.

By reason of such apprenticeship frontiersmen were able to differentiate buffalo and grizzlies at astonishing distances. They read the clouds, understood bird flights, and sensed ambuscades. Practiced eyes, ears, and noses enabled them to classify Indians as to tribe, place, and even intent. They could converse with the representatives of many different nations and tribes. A smattering of French, Spanish, and several Indian languages—supplemented by signs—made conversation possible under all circumstances.

The trapper was not always at liberty. There were organization responsibilities. The fur brigade was under strict discipline. A junior partner in the company was usually in charge, and he was the law. There was a semi-military set of regulations regarding division of work; guard duty was rigorously enforced; efficient service and prompt obedience were required of every trapper.

Sometimes terrific exertion was involved in reaching a given trapping ground at the most opportune time. Upon one occasion Alexander Ross fairly forced his caravan to cleave a road through a snowbound pass. Said he:

Making this road through the snow (seven feet deep) took the united labour of fifty men and 240 horses, with all the other available means within our power, for twenty-one days. It must be allowed to have been an arduous undertaking, with such a medley of people and so difficult to manage; and more so, when it takes into consideration that our supper at night depended on the good or bad luck of our hunters during the day. To their exertions and perseverance, indeed, no small merit was due.[77]

Such a time of travail was enough to elicit an occasional prayer from these sons of the wild. Men of few words, they could say what was needed in simple eloquence:

Oh, God, may it please Thee, in Thy divine providence, to still guide and protect us through this wilderness of doubt and fear, as Thou hast done heretofore, and be with us in the hour of danger and difficulty as all praise is due to Thee and not to man. Oh, do not forsake us, Lord, but be with us and direct us through.[78]

One of the greatest among trappers was brigade leader Jedediah Smith, sometimes called “The Knight in Buckskin.” Carrying a Bible and a rifle, he was equally proficient with each and had complete reliance upon both.

Mr. Ross has left a fine description of trapping routine:

A safe and secure spot, near wood and water, is first selected for the camp. Here the chief of the party resides with the property. It is often exposed to danger, or sudden attack, in the absence of the trappers, and requires a vigilant eye to guard against the lurking savages. The camp is called headquarters. From hence all the trappers, some on foot, some on horseback, according to the distance they have to go, start every morning, in small parties, in all directions, ranging the distance of some twenty miles around. Six traps is the allowance for each trapper; but to guard against wear and tear, the complement is more frequently ten. These he sets every night, and visits again in the morning; sometimes oftener, according to distance, or other circumstances. The beaver taken in the traps are always conveyed to the camp, skinned, stretched, dried, folded up with the hair in the inside, laid by, and the flesh used for food. No sooner, therefore, has a hunter visited his traps, set them again and looked out for some other place, than he returns to the camp to feast and enjoy the pleasures of an idle day....[79]

In this account there is an element of suppressed excitement and danger. Taking game is invariably a thrilling experience. Besides that, the covetous savages were frequently so menacing as to require almost constant vigil along the trap line. Trapper camps remained stationary only so long as two-thirds of the men were getting satisfactory results.

Setting beaver traps involved keen judgment, a deft touch, and precise arrangement. Indeed, it was a considerable art. Joe Meek left an accurate picture of his technique:

He has an ordinary steel trap weighing five pounds, attached to a chain five feet long, with a swivel and ring at the end, which plays round what is called the float, a dry stick of wood about six feet long. The trapper wades out into the stream, which is shallow, and cuts with his knife a bed for his trap, five or six inches under water. He then takes the float out the whole length of the chain in the direction of the center of the stream, and drives it in, so fast that the beaver cannot draw it out; at the same time tying the other end by a thong to the bank. A small stick or twig, dipped in musk or castor (found in certain glands of the beaver) served for bait, and is placed so as to hang directly above the trap, which is now set. The trapper then throws water plentifully over the adjacent bank to conceal any footprints or scent by which the beaver would be alarmed, and, going to some distance, wades out of the stream. In setting a trap, certain things are to be observed with care; first, that the trap is firmly fixed, and at proper distance from the bank—for if the beaver can get on shore with the trap, he will cut off his foot to escape; second, that the float is of dry wood, for should it not be, the animal will cut it off at a stroke, and swimming with the trap to the middle of the dam, be drowned by its weight. In the latter case, when the hunter visits his trap in the morning, he is under the necessity of plunging into the water and swimming out, to dive for his game. Should the morning be frosty and chilly, as it very frequently is in the mountains, diving for traps is not a pleasant exercise. In placing the bait, care must be taken to fix it just where the beaver, in reaching it, will spring the trap. If the bait stick be placed high, the hind foot of the beaver will be caught, if low, the forefoot.[80]

Each trapper had two horses, one to ride and one to carry his trapping equipment and furs. Sometimes good fortune yielded a fur harvest that exceeded the trapper’s carrying capacity. In that case he employed a device called a cache. A dry spot of earth on an incline was selected, well-camouflaged from Indian view. A hole large enough for a man to crawl into was then dug. As depth was attained it was widened to the desired proportions. Furs well wrapped would keep indefinitely in a properly constructed cache.

Essentials in the trapper’s equipment were a bowie knife, ammunition, a hatchet, a revolver, and a rifle. The trapper’s powder horn and bullet pouch, with flint and steel and other “fixins,” were thrown over his left shoulder. These articles were his constant companions, ever ready for action.

Wearing apparel was pretty much standardized—a five-piece suit of buckskin, including smoked skin moccasins which would not shrink from the frequent wettings incident to the trapping season. The pants, shirt, long coat, and hat were made of the same material. Fringes at the seams gave a dash of ornamentation and hastened drying. Clothing was mostly “homemade” during the wintertime.

These accouterments were not only durable, but they were comfortable as well, and they were pleasant to the eye. That the latter item was a desideratum there can be no doubt. Indian maidens were fair to behold, and after all the trapper was human.

This phase of the trapper’s life was cogently summarized by one observer:

From all that I hear I conclude that in the palmy days of the fur trade, the bands of white trappers in the West were little more than bands of white Indians, having their Indian wives, and all the paraphernalia of Indian life, moving from place to place, as the beaver became scarce, and subsisting like the Indians upon the products of the country.[81]

Squaw men were both numerous and respected. Lisa, Bridger, Provot, Ogden, Meek, Carson, Rose, McKenzie, and Beckwourth were wise and judicious men. They well knew the utility of the willing, efficient, and respectful Indian women for their own sakes. Then, too, there were political considerations which account for the fact that in some cases several squaws were taken at once, or in rapid succession. Marriage has always been employed as a means of ingratiation by the outsider. It may be said to their credit, with a few exceptions, genuine mountain men were faithful to their Indian wives.[82]

The Earl of Dunraven has left an excellent description of a squaw man’s camp which he visited in Yellowstone Park during the summer of 1874:

These men looked very happy and comfortable. Unquestionably the proper way for a man to travel with ease and luxury in these deserts is for him to take unto himself a helpmate chosen from the native population. No amount of art, industry, and study can rival the instinct displayed by savages in making themselves comfortable, and in utilizing for their own benefit all the accidents of Nature. Nobody can choose a camp as they can: nobody knows how to make a fire so quickly or so well: nobody can so wisely pick a shady, cool place in summer heat, or choose one sheltered from wind and storms in winter. With an Indian wife to look after his bodily comforts, a man may devote himself to hunting, fishing, or trapping without a thought or care. He may make his mind quite easy about all household matters. His camp will be well arranged, the tent-pegs driven securely home, the stock watered, picketed, and properly cared for, a good supper cooked, his bed spread out, and everything made comfortable; his clothes and hunting-gear looked after, the buttons sewn on his shirt—if he has got any shirt or any buttons; and all the little trivial incidents of life which, if neglected, wear out one’s existence, he will find carefully attended to by a willing and affectionate slave.

They had a lot to tell us also about their travels and adventures, about the wood and water supply, and the abundance or deficiency of game. So we sat down on bales of beaver-skins and retailed all the civilized intelligence we could think of; and the women came and brought us ember for our pipes, spread out robes for us and made us at home; and the little fat, chubby children, wild and shy as young wolves, peered at us from behind the tent out of their round, black, beady eyes.[83]

The premier social event among mountain men was the annual rendezvous. This institution was inaugurated on Green River in July, 1824, by General William H. Ashley, owner of the interests that evolved into the Rocky Mountain Fur Company. The Ashley men traveled to the fur region in concert. Upon arrival, they were divided into “brigades” and dispersed into various districts with instructions to reassemble at an appointed time and place. In this manner the rendezvous became a sort of roving trading place; it served in lieu of a post. These shifting locations were occasioned by the need of forage for large numbers of horses. For sixteen years this combination of market, fiesta, and carousal held sway in such romantic spots as Green River, Ogden’s Hole, Pierre’s Hole—now Teton Basin in Idaho—and the Horse Creek-Green River country south of Jackson’s Hole in Wyoming. In her book, The River of the West, Frances Fuller Victor tells of a rendezvous held by Jim Bridger and his trappers. The place was Hayden Valley; the season, 1838.[84]

Thither the company men, free trappers, and Indians foregathered. The business of exchange and supply was quickly transacted with beaver skins serving as money. Then came the celebration, and what a gala event it was. Trappers sought to indemnify themselves for the sufferings and privations of a year in the wilderness. Squaw men parted with their “hairy bank notes” in order to bedeck their spouses in bright cloth and gewgaws. Here were men with reputations to sustain, proud men with a streak of wild vanity: “Old Knock Him Stiff,” “Old Straightener,” “Dead-Eye Dick,” “Broken Hand,” Kit, Joe, and Jim. Most mountain men were openhanded, and they squandered a year’s earnings in a few days of prodigal indulgence. Coffee and chocolate were prepared; the kegs were emptied; all pipes were kept aglow; free and generous spirits moved by day and night.[85] Truly this burnt and seamy-faced band was an all-American aggregation.

The veterans boasted “most enormous adventures” in mountain experience. Each represented himself as more than a match for any possible array of Indians or grizzlies. Narrations waxed romantic in the desire to astonish the new recruits. Extravagant and absurd as their yarns were, there was always a current of rude, good humor that allowed each listener to believe as little as he liked. There were rollicking, fiery, boisterous, swaggering southerners; quiet, steel-eyed northerners; mercurial French; loquacious Irish; calculating Scots; greedy middlemen; shrewd dealers; squaw men; Indian haters; Indians of many nations; pals; rivals; and enemies. Everyone was invited; no one was missing. It was a self-propelling circus, one show a year, the antecedent of roundup, rodeo, fair, and tournament.

Contests of skill were carried to a point of jeopardizing life. There were William Tell episodes and no mistakes, trials of speed and strength for both horse and man. There was plenty of flirting, feasting, carousing, and outright debauchery. All were on friendly terms today, but each was unconsciously aware that tomorrow their relationships would change, and woe unto him who was caught unaware!

The rendezvous was perhaps the most colorful, spontaneous, lusty, and romantic institution ever known among civilized men. It was conceived, nurtured, and abandoned within a score of years (1824-1840). A fleeting climax to a picturesque band—they came from everywhere, wrote a saga that reads like an epoch from a long-forgotten age, then vanished from the scene.

Actually they did not make a definite exit; they just faded away. Some, like Colter, turned into prosaic farmers; others became guides, only to lag superfluously upon the stage; some turned to trade; some, to government appointments as Indian agents. A few lingered on as trappers, sighing for the life that was gone forever. Trappers of the Great West—they had given their all and there were no regrets. Their levity and valor, their hardships and pleasure, what a medley it made. One of the French Canadians has left this testimonial:

I have now been forty-two years in this country. For twenty-four I was 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 tarry 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.[86]

The significance of the fur trade is graphically depicted by the National Park Service with charts, diagrams, illustrations, models, and dioramas in the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial, Scotts Bluff, Guernsey Lake, Fort Laramie, Grand Teton and Yellowstone National parks.

Chapter V
WERE INDIANS AFRAID OF YELLOWSTONE?

Beginning with the origin of Yellowstone as a National Park the idea became current that Indians were afraid of the area. The opinion is still widely held that they considered it a cursed domain, unfit for habitation. While it is true that superstition and taboo loomed large in primitive experience, there is no reason to suppose that Indians gave Wonderland a wide berth.[87] Rather, there is an abundance of material evidence that controverts this view. Furthermore, the proposition is at once illogical and untrue historically.

How, then, did this fiction originate? Probably the major reason is found in the fact that, with the exception of a small band of recluse-like Tukuarikas, or Sheepeaters, Indians did not live permanently in Yellowstone. This fact alone suggests that the region was not regarded as an appropriate abode. Only a pygmy tribe of about four hundred timid souls deemed it a suitable homeland.

These people were the weakest of all mountain clans. They did not possess horses. Their tools were of the crudest type; they lived in caves and nearly inaccessible niches in cliffs along the Gardner River, especially in wintertime. These more permanent camps were carefully chosen in the interest of security against other Indians. Superintendent Norris discovered one of them by accident:

In trailing a wounded bighorn I descended a rocky dangerous pathway. In rapt astonishment I found I had thus unbidden entered an ancient but recently deserted, secluded, unknown haunt of the Sheepeater aborigines of the Park.[88]

This campground was a half mile in length and four hundred feet at its widest point, with a similar depth, “and hemmed in and hidden by rugged timber-fringed basaltic cliffs....”

In summer, the Sheepeater Indians ventured further into the interior, following the game upon the higher plateaus. There they erected:

skin-covered lodges, or circular upright brush-heaps called wickiups, decaying evidences of which are abundant near Mammoth Hot Springs, the various firehole basins, the shores of Yellowstone Lake, the newly explored Hoodoo regions, and in nearly all of the sheltered glens and valleys of the Park.[89]

In 1874, the Earl of Dunraven discovered such a camp just west of Mary Mountain on the head of Nez Percé Creek.

Superintendent Norris and his associates focused their eyes particularly upon evidences of Indian occupancy. In a dozen places they observed rude but extensive pole and brush fences used for wild animal driveways.[90] An especially strategic camp was discovered near the summit of a grassy pass between Hoodoo and Miller creeks. From this skyline perch, marked by forty decaying lodges, an entire tribe could command a view of all possible approaches for many miles. Fragments of white men’s chinaware, blankets, bed clothing, and male and female wearing apparel bore mute but mournful witness of border raids and massacres. This was an Absaroka summer retreat.

However, there are few such evidences discernible today because snows are heavy and wind fallen trees profuse, while the character of Indian structures was flimsy. In fact, these Indians, on the whole, left fewer enduring signs of their dwelling places than beaver. Several log wickiups still stand in a pleasant fir grove in the triangle formed by Lava Creek and Gardner River above their point of union. These wickiups are readily accessible from the Tower Falls highway one half mile east of the Gardner River bridge.

What happened to the timid Tukuarikas? They simply vanished from the scene as the white men invaded their refuge. They left without a contest for ownership or treaty of cession. That is the way most Americans would have had all Indian tribes behave!

All mountain Indian tribes visited Yellowstone. We-Saw, Shoshoni guide for Captain W. A. Jones in 1873, said his people and also the Bannocks and Crows occasionally visited the Yellowstone River and Lake.

For one thing, Obsidian Cliff had the effect of a magnet upon them. It was their arsenal, a lance and arrowhead quarry. Arrowheads and spears originating here have been found in an area extending many miles in every direction. The obsidian chips, from which implements were assiduously shaped by the Indians, still litter the side hills and ravines in chosen areas all over the Park. Many fine specimens of arrowheads, knives, scrapers, and spears have been found at various places. The most notable finds have been around the base of Mt. Holmes, along Indian Creek, at Fishing Bridge, near West Thumb, in the Norris and Lower Geyser basins, and about the Lamar Valley. Actually, these artifacts have generally turned up wherever excavation for modern camps has been made.

In P. W. Norris’ Fifth Annual Report, 1881, there is a comprehensive analysis of the problem of Indian occupancy. Diagrams of four steatite vessels found in widely separated places are represented. Drawings of arrowheads and sinkers also occur, and figures 10 to 24, inclusive, depict the natural sizes of scrapers, knives, lance, spearheads, and perforators, mostly chipped from Park obsidian.[91] These artifacts were found in various places, such as caverns, driveways, at the foot of cliffs, and along creeks. Said Norris: “Over two hundred such specimens were collected this season.”[92]

In his report of 1878, Mr. Norris states: “Chips, flakes, arrowheads and other Indian tools and weapons have been found by all recent tourists in burial cairns and also scattered broadcast in all these mountain valleys.”[93]

Is it any wonder Indian artifacts are scarce in Yellowstone today? Still, they are frequently found when excavations are made. Winter snows, animal trampings, land slides, and floods have covered them. A few isolated items of discovery should be noted: arrowheads have recently been found on Stevenson Island, in lake gravel pits, about Buffalo Ranch, in the sewer line, near South Entrance, on the Game Ranch, around Norris, Lower, and Midway geyser basins, and at Fishing Bridge.[94]

Another evidence of Indian visitation was evinced by a network of trails. One of these followed the Yellowstone Valley across the Park from north to south. It divided at Yellowstone Lake, the principal branch adhering to the east shore and leading to Two Ocean Pass where it intersected the great Snake and Wind River trail. Since Indian trails multisected the Yellowstone area it is obvious that the region was a sort of no-man’s land. Undesirable as a homeland, it was used as a summer retreat by many Rocky Mountain tribes. From this circumstance it may be assumed that an autumn seldom passed without a clash between the Bannocks and the Crows or the Shoshonis. Surely, the shrill notes of Blackfeet warwhoops have echoed in these vales. Campsites were well chosen both from the viewpoint of preserving secrecy and desirability as watchtower sites.

The most important trail, however, was that known as the Great Bannock Trail. The Bannocks of southeastern Idaho made an annual trek to the Bighorn Basin for buffalo. Their trail followed Henrys Fork of Snake River to Henrys Lake, an ancient Bannock rendezvous. From this notable camp the trail went up Howard Creek and crossed the Continental Divide at Targhee Pass. Upon reaching the Upper Madison Valley, the route passed Horse Butte and angled north of West Yellowstone townsite. A camp at Great Springs (now Cory Springs) was situated near the Park boundary.

In Yellowstone National Park, the Bannock Trail winds its devious way across the northern part. There are a half-dozen deviations from the main artery. Wayne Replogle suggests that weather conditions determined these alternations. High ground would be chosen enroute to the plains, but the return trip could be made along the streams. Other considerations might include security, grazing, and game. Entering the Park upon Duck Creek the Trail swung northward across Campanula Creek, paralleled Gneiss Creek to the point of crossing, then quartered southward, crossing Maple Creek and Duck Creek, on toward the head of Cougar Creek and its ample pasture lands.

From this area the Trail goes almost due north to White Peaks, which are skirted on the West. The Gallatin Range was crossed via a saddle north of White Peaks. The Trail then dropped upon the headwaters of Indian Creek and followed down to Gardner River. The route then looped to the left, across Swan Lake flats, on through Snow Pass, down the decline to Mammoth Hot Springs. From Mammoth the Indian thoroughfare struck right, recrossed Gardner River, and followed Lava Creek toward Tower Fall.

The Yellowstone River ford was located just above Tower Fall, near the mouth of Tower Creek. Vestiges of the trail may still be discerned along both banks of Yellowstone River. Other evidences, such as deep grass-sodded furrows, may be seen in the vicinity of junction of the Lamar River and Soda Butte Creek. One branch paralleled Soda Butte Creek to the divide and then descended Clarks Fork to the bison range. The alternate route continued along the Lamar to a secondary divide between Cache and Calfee creeks. This hog’s back was then followed to the summit, and the descent was down Timber Creek to its confluence with Clarks Fork. The deep ruts worn by travois in these pilgrimages are still obvious in many places, although unused for three quarters of a century.

Can anyone doubt that the Bannocks made frequent and extensive excursions beyond this thoroughfare? Surely their young men ranged far and wide, prying into every nook and cranny of Wonderland. They undoubtedly fished in the great lake and river, hunted elk and bighorn, bathed in warm springs, and reveled in the beauties of the landscape. Any other view of the evidence would impute undue naïveté to human nature. After all, Indians were children of nature; the earth was their mother. In Yellowstone Mother Earth was especially intriguing. They might not understand her; they might entertain great respect for her strange manifestations, but cringing trepidation? Hardly! But weren’t they afraid of the geysers? In 1935, White Hawk and Many Wounds visited the Park. They were members of Chief Joseph’s band when it crossed the Park in 1877. When asked if the Nez Percé Indians were afraid of the geysers and hot springs they said no and implied that they used them in cooking.[95] Still the critic objects, saying the geyser and spring formations were all intact when the first white men came. Primitive people were seldom guilty of wanton spoliation. Hence, missing incrustations were not essential evidence of Indian visitation. They left nature’s beauty as they found it, a proper example for all who might follow after.

Did Indians ever hear the legendary overhead sounds in the vicinity of Shoshone and Yellowstone lakes—those strange half-minute tunes like the humming of bees or echo of bells?[96] Perhaps they did. Any phenomenon audible to white men with the naked ear would be discernible to them because they were sensitive to nature and her communion was always welcomed. However, since Indians were without records and formal procedures for obtaining and preserving scientific knowledge they were tremendously limited in understanding. They operated upon a single dimension of experience. For instance, they could never realize that the fish they took from Lake Yellowstone was a Pacific Ocean species which could only have reached these inland lakes via the Snake River system, signifying that, in ages past, the great lake must have possessed an outlet in that direction. All such problems awaited the scientists, but red men still knew much in their own right.

Surely then, Indians were summertime visitors in Yellowstone. They literally swarmed around the lakes. The most unimpeachable testimony on this point comes from trapper accounts of actual encounters. This phase of the case is discussed in the following chapter. Their known presence in the wooded area was the greatest deterrent to the white man’s interest. Few men voluntarily risk their lives for a view of nature’s wonders. It is a historical fact that the Washburn-Langford-Doane party saw Crow Indians along the north environs of the Park and actually followed a fresh line of tracks into the Yellowstone area. Thus the scenic exploitation of Wonderland was not feasible until the Indians were rounded up and confined to the reservations. This program was accomplished in the states surrounding Yellowstone between 1860 and 1877.

This process of racial adjustment was not accomplished without minor repercussions upon Yellowstone. The exciting Nez Percé flight of 1877 is considered separately in Chapter XI. However, the very next year the Bannocks conducted an impressive horse-stealing foray against the property of laborers and tourists. These episodes resulted in unfavorable publicity from the standpoint of tourist interest in visiting Wonderland. In consequence two important steps were taken by the officials. In 1880 Superintendent Norris made a tour of all the Rocky Mountain Indian reservations. His mission was to secure solemn promises from the tribes to abide by the terms of their Washington treaties and in particular to stay away from the Park.[97]

These agreements were widely advertised, and in order to further neutralize any fear of Indian trouble a policy of minimizing past incidents was evolved. The recent invasions were represented as unprecedented, actually anomalous. Indians had never lived in Yellowstone, were infrequent visitors because they were afraid of the thermal activity! It was not a conspiracy against truth, just an adaptation of business psychology to a promising national resort.