We marched on until we came to the Missouri River, and I was greatly edified at the novel manner in which we crossed the stream. A sufficient number of robes were brought to the river bank, and a puckering-string run around the entire edge of one, drawing it together until it assumed a globulated form. Five or six guns, with other articles necessary to be kept dry, were put into it, together with a stone for ballast. An Indian would then attach one end of a string to the hide tub, and, taking the other end in his teeth, swim across with the novel bark in tow. When unfreighted on the opposite shore, everything would be as dry as when embarked. Thus all our freight was conveyed across in a very short time, and we recommenced our march.
We had not proceeded far when our spies returned, and reported that they had discovered a village of the As-ne-boines on Milk River, about forty miles distant. We started for the village, intending to relieve them of a few of their horses, of which we thought they had more than their share. We reached there, and succeeded in driving off nearly three hundred head; but, in re-crossing the Missouri, we lost about one third of them by drowning, in consequence of our crossing over a sand-bar, in which, though covered with water, the animals became involved and perished. We reached home in safety with the remainder without being pursued; indeed, on our whole route we did not see an Indian.
Although we brought no scalps, there was great rejoicing at our success. I received, in the distribution, seventeen horses, which I gave to my friends, taking care to give my father a liberal share, in the place of those he had previously parted with on my account.
I had a month’s interval at home. Visiting at my father’s lodge one day, he asked me why I did not head a party myself, and go on some expedition as leader. By so doing, he informed me, I stood a better chance of gaining promotion. “Your medicine is good,” said he, “and the medicine of both will bring you great success.”
I replied that I had been domiciliated there so short a time that I did not wish to be too precipitate in pushing myself forward, and that I preferred to fight a while longer as a brave, rather than risk the responsibility of being leader.
He replied, “Here is your brother-in-law, take him; also your brothers will go with you. If they all get killed, so be it; I will cheerfully submit to old age without them, and die alone.”
I reflected that, in order to advance by promotion, I must risk everything; so I consented to follow his advice.
“Black Panther,” my brother-in-law, was anxious to follow me, and there were seven young striplings, from ten to eighteen years old, that my father called his sons, though, in fact, half of them were what I called nephews. I put myself forward as the leader, the party comprising only two men and the above-mentioned seven boys.
We departed from the village, and pressed on to the head-waters of the Arkansas, coming directly to the Arrap-a-ho and I-a-tan villages. At night we drove off one hundred and eighteen fine horses, with which we moved on in all possible haste toward home. We were then about three hundred miles from our village, and two hundred from the Crow country. In passing through the Park (formerly one of the greatest places for beaver in North America, and well known to the mountaineers) we discovered three Indians coming toward us, driving a small drove of horses. We concealed ourselves from their view by dropping back over the brow of a small hill directly in their route, until they had approached within ten steps of us. We raised the war-hoop, and rushed out on them, killing two of the three; the third was at a greater distance, driving the cattle, and when he saw the fate of his companions he mounted one of the fleetest, and was soon beyond pursuit. My company had achieved a great victory, the spoils of which were fourteen horses, in addition to those already in our possession, two scalps, one gun, two battle-axes, one lance, bow, quiver, etc. This trivial affair exalted my young brothers in their own esteem higher than the greatest veteran their village contained. During their return home they were anticipating with untiring tongues the ovation that awaited them.
We fell in with no more enemies on our way to the village. The horses we had captured from the three Indians had been stolen by them from the Crows, and as a recovery of lost horses is a greater achievement in Indians’ eyes than the original acquisition, our merit was in proportion. We entered singing, with our faces blackened, bearing two scalps and other trophies, and driving one hundred and thirty-two fine horses before us. The whole village resounded with the shouts with which our brethren and kindred welcomed us. I was hailed bravest of the brave, and my promotion appeared certain.
My father and all his family rose greatly in popular favor. The Antelope’s distinguished skill and bravery were reflected in lucent rays upon their names. “Great is the Antelope,” was chanted on all sides, “the lost son of Big Bowl; their medicine is good and prosperous.”
There is one trait in Indian character which civilized society would derive much profit by imitating. Envy is a quality unknown to the savages. When a warrior has performed any deed of daring, his merit is freely accorded by all his associate braves; his deeds are extolled in every public and private reunion, and his name is an incentive to generous emulation. I never witnessed any envious attempt to derogate from the merit of a brave’s achievement. No damning with faint praise; none “Willing to wound and yet afraid to strike;” no faltering innuendoes that the man has not accomplished so much, after all. The same way with the women. When a woman’s husband has distinguished himself, her neighbors, one and all, take a pride in rejoicing with her over her happiness. If a woman displays more ingenuity than common in ornamenting her husband’s war-dress, or in adding any fancy work to her own habiliments, she at once becomes the pattern of the neighborhood. You see no flaws picked in her character because of her rising to note; no aspersions cast upon her birth or present standing. Such and such is her merit, and it is deserving of our praise; the fact perceived, it receives full acknowledgment. This leads to the natural conclusion that civilization, in introducing the ostentation of display which is too frequently affected without sufficient ground to stand upon, warps the mind from the charity that is natural to it, and leads to all the petty strifes, and scandalous tales, and heartburnings that imbitter the lives of so many in civilized life.
I now engaged in trapping until the latter part of December. I celebrated Christmas by myself, as the Indians knew nothing about the birth of our Savior, and it was hard to make them understand the nature of the event. At this time a trading-party started from our village for the Grovan and Mandan country, where there was a trading-post established, for the purpose of buying our winter supply of ammunition, and tobacco, and other necessary articles. I sent thirty beaver-skins, with directions what to purchase with their value, and had marked my initials on all of the skins. These letters were a mystery to the trader. He inquired of the Crows who had marked the skins with those letters. They told him it was a Crow, one of their braves, who had lived with the whites. Kipp, the trader, then sent an invitation to me to visit him at his fort.
While our party was away, our village was attacked by a combined party of the Siouxs and Re-ke-rahs, numbering two thousand five hundred. So sudden was the attack that they inflicted considerable mischief upon us before we had a chance to collect our forces. But when we at length charged on them, it was decisive. We penetrated their ranks, throwing them into the direst confusion, and they withdrew, leaving two hundred and fifty-three dead on the field. Our loss was thirty-one killed, and one hundred and sixty wounded. They had supposed that nearly all the warriors had left the village, when but a small party had gone, and they met with such a reception as they little expected. I had three horses killed under me, and my faithful battle-axe was red with the blood of the enemy to the end of the haft; fourteen of the Siouxs had fallen beneath it.
Although we had taken such a number of scalps, there was no dancing or rejoicing. All were busied in attending the wounded, or mourning their relatives slain. Their mourning consists in cutting and hacking themselves on every part of the body, and keeping up
a dismal moaning or howling for hours together. Many cut off their fingers in order to mourn through life, or, at least, to wear the semblance of mourning; hence the reason of so many Western Indians having lost one or more of their fingers, and of the scars which disfigure their bodies.
The Crows fasten the remains of their dead in trees until their flesh is decayed; their skeletons are then taken down and inhumed in eaves. Sometimes, but not frequently, they kill the favorite horse of the deceased, and bury him at the foot of the tree; but that custom is not followed so strictly with them as with most other tribes.
I was pacifically engaged in trapping during the ensuing winter, and the season being open and pleasant, I met with great success. Could I have disposed of my peltry in St. Louis, I should have been as rich as I coveted.
In the month of March (1826), a small war-party of twenty men left our village on an excursion, and not one of them ever came back, their pack-dogs (used for carrying extra moccasins when a party goes to war) alone returning to intimate their fate. Another party was quickly dispatched, of whom I was appointed leader, and we soon came upon the remains of the massacred party, which yet bore the marks of the weapons that had laid them low. There were also many fresh Indian tracks about the place, which led us to the inference that there were enemies near. We made immediate search for them, and had only marched about six miles when we came upon a village of nine lodges, which we instantly assaulted, killing every man but two. These were on a hill nearby, and as they made off we did not follow them. My personal trophies in this encounter were one scalp and the equipments of its wearer; one young girl of about fourteen years, and a little boy. We killed forty-eight of the enemy, and took six women prisoners, together with a large drove of horses, and a valuable stock of beaver, otter, and other skins, with which we returned to the village. There was great rejoicing again (not one of our party was scratched), and the beaver-skins, to the number of one hundred and sixty-three, were bestowed upon me for my skill in command.
Before we made the assault we felt convinced that this was the party who had killed our missing friends, and our convictions were substantiated subsequently by recognizing several weapons in their possession which had formerly belonged to our braves; indeed, some of our women prisoners acknowledged that our departed brethren had killed many of their people.
The Crows treat the women whom they take prisoners much better than other tribes do. They do not impose upon them a harder lot than their own women endure, and they allow them to marry into the tribe, after which they are in equal fellowship with them. On finding themselves captives, they generally mourn a day, or two, but their grief quickly subsides, and they seem to care no farther for their violent removal from their own people.
At this time the Crows were incessantly at war with all the tribes within their reach, with the exception of the Snakes and the Flat Heads; and they did not escape frequent ruptures with them, brought about by the Indians’ universal obtuseness as to all law relating to the right of property in horses.
The Crows could raise an army of sixteen thousand warriors, and, although there were tribes much more numerous, there were none could match them in an open fight. The Camanches and Apaches have tilted lances with them repeatedly, and invariably to their discomfiture. If the Crows ever suffered defeat, it was when overwhelmed by numbers. One principal cause of their marked superiority was their plentiful supply of guns and ammunition, which the whites always more readily exchanged to them on account of their well-proved fidelity to the white man. When other tribes were constrained to leave their fire-arms in their lodges for want of ammunition, the Crows would have plenty, and could use their arms with great effect against an enemy which had only bow and arrows to shoot with. Farther, they were the most expert horsemen of any Indian tribe, notwithstanding the great name bestowed upon the Camanches and Apaches — those two great terrors of Northern Mexico. I have seen them all, and consider myself in a position to judge, although some, perhaps, will say that I am prejudiced in favor of the Crows, seeing that I am one myself.
Previous to my going among the Crows, the smallpox had been ravaging their camp, carrying them away in thousands, until, as I was informed by themselves, their number was reduced by that fatal Indian scourge to little better than one half. None of their medicine would arrest its course.
After our last-mentioned victory, the Crows met with numerous reverses, which were attended with severe loss of life. In their small war-parties going out on marauding expeditions I had never much confidence, although, individually, they were good warriors; therefore I never took part with them until six or eight of their parties would come back severely handled, and many of their braves slain. Thus their reverses accumulated until the whole village was one scene of mourning, numbers of them being self-mangled in the most shocking manner, and the blood trickling from their heads down to the ground. Some had lost a father, some a brother, some a sweetheart; in short, their appearance was too fearful to look upon, and their cries were too painful to hear.
When the last party came in, defeated with serious loss, I had just returned with a party from the pursuit of horse-thieves. We had brought in four scalps, and were performing the scalp-dance in honor of the event. On hearing the disastrous news of the return of the defeated party, we arrested the dance, and I retired into my lodge. Soon, however, a crowd of women came and lifted it directly from over me, leaving me in the open air. They then threw before me immense quantities of all kinds of goods, leggins, moccasins, and other things, until I was nearly covered with their miscellaneous offerings.
I called out, “Enough! I am aroused. I will go with your warriors and revenge the death of your friends.” They were all satisfied, and stood still. The news then circulated through the village that the Antelope was aroused, and himself going against the Cheyennes to revenge the death of their braves.
I had as yet met with no reverses since my translation. My medicine had always been good and true. I had never come home without scalps or spoils, and they began to associate my name with victory. The next day five hundred warriors rallied round me, among whom were some who had suffered recent defeat, and their minds were burning for revenge. I sent forward fifty spies, and moved cautiously on with the main body. My reputation was committed to my present success, and I took more than ordinary pains to vindicate the cause they had intrusted to my care. Every man was well armed and mounted, and I had full confidence in our ability to give a good account of double our number.
My command were very curious to learn my tactics. On one occasion, when they were completely harassing me with endless inquiries respecting my plan of attack, I told them, if they would bring me a silver-gray fox, unhurt, my medicine would be complete, and that we were sure of a great victory. In a moment they left me, and shortly returned with a live fox, which they had caught in a surround. I ordered them to choke it to death, and then flay it: it was done, and the beautiful skin was handed to me. I wrapped it round my medicine bow, and made a brief speech, informing them that the cunning of the fox had descended upon my head, and that my wiles would infallibly circumvent the enemy. Like another Alexander, I thus inspired confidence in the breasts of my soldiers, and the spirit I was infusing in others partly communicated itself to my own breast.
Some of the spies now returned and informed me that they had discovered a village of Cheyennes containing thirty-seven lodges.
“Well,” said I, after learning where it was, “now return and watch them strictly; if anything happens, acquaint me with it promptly.”
Away they went, but soon returned again to report that the enemy had moved down the creek (which was then called Antelope Creek, a small tributary of the Missouri), had passed through the cañon, and were encamped at its mouth. I ordered them to send in all the spies except ten, and to direct those ten to keep a sharp look-out. I then determined to follow them down the cañon and attack them at the mouth, thus cutting off their retreat into the cañon; but again I was informed that the e
nemy had moved farther down, and had encamped in the edge of the timber, with the evident intention of remaining there.
I approached their village with great caution, moving a few miles a day, until I occupied a position on a hill near it, where I had an almost bird’s-eye view of the village underneath. I then sent all my extra horses, together with the boys and women, to the rear; I divided the warriors into three parties, reserving the smallest division of fifty men to myself. I placed the two chief divisions in juxtaposition, out of view of the enemy, and, with my small party, intended to descend upon the horses, thinking to draw them after me; my two concealed divisions would then inclose them as in a lane, and we, returning, would place them under a triple fire. I addressed them briefly, begging them to show the enemy they were Crows, and brave ones too, and that, if they would strictly obey my directions, we could retrieve all our recent reverses.
The two corps d’armée being in position, I was advancing with my small division, when we came suddenly upon two of the enemy, whom we instantly killed and scalped. We rode on, being in full sight of the enemy, but they made no offer to come out of their camp. We tried every means to provoke them to advance; we shook our two scalps at them, yet reeking with blood, and tantalized them all we could; but they would not move. To have charged them as they were situated would have entailed upon us severe loss. We had taken two scalps without loss of blood, more glorious in an Indian’s estimation than to take one hundred if a single life was sacrificed. We had braved our foes; we had stamped them as cowards, which is almost equal to death; so, contenting myself with what was done, I concluded to draw off my forces and return home. We were received at the village with deafening applause. Every face was washed of its mourning-paint; gloom gave way to rejoicing; and the scalp-dance was performed with enthusiasm and hilarity. I was illustrated with the distinguished name of Big Bowl (Bat-te-sarsh), and hailed as a deliverer by all the women in the village.
The Life and Adventures of James P Beckwourth Page 13