During the settlement of the preliminaries of the treaty, there was great difficulty with the Indians, and it was necessary for each man of our party to be on his guard against any hostile attempts of the former, who were all armed to the teeth. On the distribution of presents, which followed the conclusion of the treaty, consisting of casks of whisky, guns, gunpowder, knives, blankets, &c., there was a general time of rejoicing. Pow-wows, drinking, and dancing diversified the time, and a few fights were indulged in as a sequel to the entertainment.
The Indians soon became very friendly to me, and I was indebted to them for showing me their choicest hunting-grounds. There was abundance of game, including deer, bears, wild turkey, raccoons, and numerous other wild animals. Frequently they would accompany me on my excursions (which always proved eminently successful), thus affording me an opportunity of increasing my personal knowledge of the Indian character. I have lived among Indians in the Eastern and Western States, on the Rocky Mountains, and in California; I find their habits of living, and their religious belief, substantially uniform through all the unmingled races. All believe in the same Great Spirit; all have their prophets, their medicine men, and their soothsayers, and are alike influenced by the appearance of omens; thus leading to the belief that the original tribes throughout the entire continent, from Florida to the most northern coast, have sprung from one stock, and still retain in some degree of purity the social constitution of their primitive founders.
I remained in that region for a space of eighteen months, occupying my leisure time by working in the mines. During this time I accumulated seven hundred dollars in cash, and, feeling myself to be quite a wealthy personage, I determined upon a return home.
My visit paid, I felt a disposition to roam farther, and took passage in the steam-boat Calhoun, Captain Glover, about to descend the river to New Orleans. My stay in New Orleans lasted ten days, during which time I was sick with the yellow fever, which I contracted on the way from Natchez to New Orleans. It was midsummer, and I sought to return home, heartily regretting I had ever visited this unwholesome place. As my sickness abated, I lost no time in making my way back, and remained under my father’s roof until I had in some measure recruited my forces.
Being possessed with a strong desire to see the celebrated Rocky Mountains, and the great Western wilderness so much talked about, I engaged in General Ashley’s Rocky Mountain Fur Company. The company consisted of twenty-nine men, who were employed by the Fur Company as hunters and trappers.
We started on the 11th of October with horses and pack-mules. Nothing of interest occurred until we approached the Kansas village, situate on the Kansas River, when we came to a halt and encamped.
Here it was found that the company was in need of horses, and General Ashley wished for two men to volunteer to proceed to the Republican Pawnees, distant three hundred miles, where he declared we could obtain a supply. There was in our party an old and experienced mountaineer, named Moses Harris, in whom the general reposed the strictest confidence for his knowledge of the country and his familiarity with Indian life. This Harris was reputed to be, a man of “great leg,” (i.e., a great traveler; able to go a great distance in a day) and capable, from his long sojourning in the mountains, of enduring extreme privation and fatigue.
There seemed to be a great reluctance on the part of the men to undertake in such company so hazardous a journey (for it was now winter). It was also whispered in the camp that whoever gave out in an expedition with Harris received no succor from him, but was abandoned to his fate in the wilderness.
Our leader, seeing this general unwillingness, desired me to perform the journey with Harris. Being young, and feeling ambitious to distinguish myself in some important trust, I asked leave to have a word with Harris before I decided.
Harris being called, the following colloquy took place:
“Harris, I think of accompanying you on this trip.” “Very well, Jim,” he replied, scrutinizing me closely, “do you think you can stand it?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, “but I am going to try. But I wish you to bear one thing in mind: if I should give out on the road, and you offer to leave me to perish, as you have the name of doing, if I have strength to raise and cock my rifle, I shall certainly bring you to a halt.”
Harris looked me full in the eye while he replied, “Jim, you may precede me the entire way, and take your own jog. If I direct the path, and give you the lead, it will be your own fault if you tire out.”
“That satisfies me,” I replied: “we will be off in the morning.”
The following morning we prepared for departure. Each man loading himself with twenty-five pounds of provisions, besides a blanket, rifle, and ammunition each, we started on our journey. After a march of about thirty miles, I in advance, my companion bringing up the rear, Harris complained of fatigue. We halted, and Harris sat down, while I built a large, cheering fire, for the atmosphere was quite cold. We made coffee, and partook of a hearty supper, lightening our packs, as we supposed, for the following day. But while I was bringing in wood to build up the fire, I saw Harris seize his rifle in great haste, and the next moment bring down a fat turkey from a tree a few rods from the camp. Immediately reloading (for old mountaineers never suffer their guns to remain empty for one moment), while I was yet rebuilding the fire, crack went his rifle again, and down came a second turkey, so large and fat that he burst in striking the ground. We were thus secure for our next morning’s meal. After we had refreshed ourselves with a hearty supper, my companion proposed that we should kill each a turkey to take with us for our next day’s provision. This we both succeeded in doing, and then, having dressed the four turkeys, we folded ourselves in our blankets, and enjoyed a sound night’s rest.
The following morning we breakfasted off the choicest portions of two of the turkeys, and abandoned the remainder to the wolves, who had been all night prowling round the camp for prey. We started forward as early as possible, and advanced that day about forty miles. My companion again complained of fatigue, and rested while I made a fire, procured water, and performed all the culinary work. The selected portions of last evening’s turkeys, with the addition of bread and coffee, supplied us with supper and breakfast. After a travel of ten days we arrived at the Republican Pawnee villages, when what was our consternation and dismay to find the place entirely deserted! They had removed to their winter quarters. We were entirely out of provisions, having expected to find abundance at the lodges. We searched diligently for their caches (places where provisions are secured), but failed in discovering any. Our only alternative was to look for game, which, so near to an Indian settlement, we were satisfied must be scarce.
I would break my narrative for a while to afford some explanation in regard to the different bands of the Pawnee tribe; a subject which at the present day is but imperfectly understood by the general reader — the knowledge being confined to those alone who, by living among them, have learned their language, and hence become acquainted with the nature of their divisional lands.
The reader, perhaps, has remarked, that I related we were on a visit to Republican Pawnee villages. This is a band of the Pawnee tribe of Indians, which is thus divided
The Grand Pawnee Band.
Republican Pawnee Band.
Pawnee Loups or Wolf Pawnees.
Pawnee Pics or Tattooed Pawnees, and
Black Pawnees.
The five bands constitute the entire tribe. Each band is independent and under its own chief, but for mutual defense, or in other cases of urgent necessity, they unite into one body. They occupy an immense extent of country, stretching from beyond the Platte River to south of the Arkansas, and, at the time I speak of, could raise from thirty thousand to forty thousand warriors. Like all other Indian tribes, they have dwindled away from various causes, the small-pox and war having carried them off by thousands. Some of the bands have been reduced to one half by this fatal disease (in many instances introduced designedly among them by their
civilized brethren); a disease more particularly fatal to the Indians from their entire ignorance of any suitable remedy. Their invariable treatment for all ailments being a cold-water immersion, it is not surprising that they are eminently unsuccessful in their treatment of the small-pox. Horse-stealing, practiced by one band upon the other, leads to exterminating feuds and frequent engagements, wherein great numbers are mutually slain.
The following interesting episode I had from the lips of the interpreter:
Some thirty-two years ago, during Monroe’s administration, a powerful Indian named Two Axe, chief counselor of the Pawnee Loup band, went to pay his “Great Father,” the President, a visit. He was over six feet high and well proportioned, athletic build, and as straight as an arrow. He was delegated to Washington by his tribe to make a treaty with his Great Father.
Being introduced, his “father” made known to him, through the interpreter, the substance of his proposal. The keen-witted Indian, perceiving that the proposed treaty “talked all turkey” to the white man and “all crow” to his tribe, sat patiently during the reading of the paper. The reading finished, he arose with all his native dignity, and in that vein of true Indian eloquence in which he was unsurpassed, declared that the treaty had been conceived in injustice and brought forth in duplicity; that many treaties had been signed by Indians of their “Great Father’s” concoction, wherein they bartered away the graves of their fathers for a few worthless trinkets, and afterward their hearts cried at their folly; that such Indians were fools and women. He expressed his free opinion of the “Great Father,” and all his white children, and concluded by declaring that he would sign no paper which would make his own breast or those of his people to sorrow.
Accordingly, Two Axe broke up the council abruptly, and returned to his home without making any treaty with his “Great Father.”
CHAPTER III.
Return from the deserted Pawnee Villages.—Sufferings on the Way.—Prospect of Starvation.—Fall in with the Indians most opportunely.—Safe Arrival at Ely’s Trading-post at the mouth of the Kansas.
MY companion and myself took counsel together how to proceed. Our determination was to make the best of our way to the Grand Ne-mah-haw River, one of the tributaries of the Missouri. We arrived at that river after nine days’ travel, being, with the exception of a little coffee and sugar, entirely without provisions. My companion was worn out, and seemed almost disheartened. I was young, and did not feel much the worse for the journey, although I experienced a vehement craving for food. Arrived at the river, I left Harris by a good fire, and, taking my rifle, went in quest of game, not caring what kind I met.
As Fortune would have it, I came across an elk, and my rifle soon sent a leaden messenger after him. We encamped near him, promising ourselves a feast. He was exceedingly poor, however, and, hungry as we were, we made a very unsavory supper off his flesh. The next morning we continued our journey down the Ne-mah-haw, traveling on for five days after I had killed the elk without tasting food. The elk had been so rank that we carried no part of him with us, trusting to find some little game, in which we were disappointed. We had thrown away our blankets to relieve ourselves of every burden that would impede our progress, which, withal, was extremely slow.
On the fifth day we struck a large Indian trail, which bore evident marks of being fresh. My companion now gave entirely up, and threw himself to the ground, declaring he could go no farther. He pronounced our position to be thirty miles from the trading-post. I endeavored to arouse him to get up and proceed onward, but he could only advance a few rods at a time. I felt myself becoming weak; still, I had faith that I could reach Ely’s, if I had no hindrance; if I lingered for Harris, I saw we should both inevitably perish. He positively declared he could advance not a step farther; he could scarcely put one foot before the other, and I saw he was becoming bewildered.
In the dilemma I said to him, “Harris, we must both perish if we stay here. If I make the best of my way along this trail, I believe I can reach Ely’s sometime in the night” (for I was aware that the Indians, whose trail we were following, were proceeding thither with their peltry).
But Harris would not listen to it.
“Oh, Jim,” he exclaimed, “don’t leave me; don’t leave me here to die! For God’s sake, stay with me!” I did my best to encourage him to proceed; I assisted him to rise, and we again proceeded upon our journey.
I saw, by the progress we were making, we should never get on; so I told him, if I had to advance and leave him, to throw himself in the trail, and await my return on the following day with a good horse to carry him to the trading-post. We walked on, I a hundred yards in advance, but I became convinced that if I did not use my remaining strength in getting to Ely’s, we should both be lost.
Accordingly, summoning all my forces, I doubled my speed, determined to reach the post before I stopped. I had not proceeded half a mile ere I heard the report of two rifles, and, looking in the direction of the sound, I saw two Indians approaching with demonstrations of friendship.
On reaching me, one of them exclaimed, “You are dead-you no live!”
I explained to him that I had left my companion behind, and that we were both nearly starved to death. On this they spoke a few words to each other in their own language, and one started off like a race-horse, along the trail, while the other returned with me to my companion.
As we approached him I could hear him moaning, “Ho, Jim! come back! Come back! don’t leave me!” We went up to him, and I informed him that we were safe; that I had met the Indians, and we should soon be relieved.
After waiting about three hours, the rattling of hoofs was heard, and, looking up, we discovered a troop of Indians approaching at tall speed. In another moment they were by our side. They brought with them a portion of light food, consisting of corn-meal made into a kind of gruel, of which they would give us but a small spoonful at short intervals. When Harris was sufficiently restored to mount a horse with the assistance of the Indians, we all started forward for the post.
It appeared that the two Indians whom I had so fortunately encountered had lingered behind the main party to amuse themselves with target-shooting with their rifles. The one that started along the trail overtook the main body at a short distance, and, making our case known to them, induced them to return to our succor.
We encamped with them that night, and they continued the same regimen of small periodic doses of gruel. Several times a large Indian seized hold of an arm of each of us, and forced us into a run until our strength was utterly exhausted. Others of the party would then support us on each side, and urge us on till their own strength failed them. After this discipline, a spoonful or two of gruel would be administered to us. This exercise being repeated several times, they at length placed before us a large dish containing venison, bear-meat, and turkey, with the invitation to eat all we wanted. It is unnecessary to say that I partook of such a meal as I never remember to have eaten before or since.
Early the next day we arrived at the trading-post of Ely and Curtis, situate on the Missouri River, near the mouth of the Kansas. As I entered the house, I heard someone exclaim, “Here comes Jim Beckwourth and Black Harris,” the name he went by where he was known.
Ely sprang up to welcome us. “Sure enough,” said he, “it is they; but they look like corpses.” Another voice exclaimed, “Halloo, Jim! what is the matter with you? Is it yourselves, or only your ghosts? Come along and take some brandy, anyway; living or dead, you must be dry.”
We accepted the invitation, and took each a glass, which, in our greatly reduced state, quite overpowered us. Left to my reflections, I resolved that, if I survived my present dangers, I would return to civilized life. The extremities I had been reduced to had so moderated my resentments that, had I encountered my former boss, I should certainly have extended my hand to him with ready forgiveness.
The Indians we had so opportunely fallen in with belonged to the Kansas band of the Osage tribe, and were on
the way, as we had surmised, to dispose of their goods at the trading-post. Their wares consisted principally of peltry, obtained by their sagacity in trapping, and their skill in hunting the wild animals of the plains. In purchasing their skins of them, Messrs. Ely and Curtis rewarded the Indians very liberally with government stores for their humanity in succoring us when exhausted, and as an encouragement to relieve others whom they might chance to find similarly distressed.
After thoroughly recruiting at the trading-post, where I received every attention from Messrs. Ely and Curtis, I started for St. Louis. On my arrival at G. Chouteau’s trading-post, I calculated the intervening distance to St. Louis, and abandoned my intention of proceeding thither, delaying my return till the spring, when the ice would break up in the Missouri. Mr. Chouteau engaged me to assist in packing peltries during the winter, at twenty-five dollars per month.
When the river was free from ice, I took passage in a St. Louis boat, and, after a quick run, arrived safe in the city early in the evening of the fifth day.
Shortly after my arrival I fell in with General Ashley, who had returned to the city for more men. The general was greatly surprised to see me, he having concluded that my fate had been the same with hundreds of others, engaged to fur companies, who had perished with cold and starvation. The general informed me that he had engaged one hundred and twenty men, who were already on their road to the mountains. He declared I was just the man he was in search of to ride after and overtake the men, and accompany them to the mountains, and added that I must start the next morning.
My feelings were somewhat similar to those of a young sailor on his return from his first voyage to sea. I had achieved one trip to the wild West, and had returned safe, and now I was desirous of spending a long interval with my father. I suffered the arguments of the old general to prevail over me, however, and I re-engaged to him, with the promise to start on the following morning. This afforded me short time to visit my friends, to whom I just paid a flying visit, and returned to the city in the morning.
The Life and Adventures of James P Beckwourth Page 2