Hugh Glass - Bruce Bradley

by Bruce Bradley

  Immel and Jones didn't stay long, nor were they made to feel particularly welcome.

  ***

  The second keelboat arrived at Fort Henry on October first. To everyone's surprise, it was commanded by General Ashley himself, with Jedidiah Smith second in command, and was not the same boat that Henry and the others had left behind in St. Louis at all. The first boat had been sunk shortly after it's departure from St. Louis, on May 8. An overhanging limb had caught on the mast, turning the boat sidewaysbroadside to the current--capsizing it and losing its $10,000.00 cargo. Undaunted, Ashley had replaced the entire shipment of supplies in three weeks time and, commanding the boat himself, headed upriver again.

  Along the way, Ashley managed to re-recruit some of the men who had deserted at Cedar Fort, including Daniel T Potts.

  No sooner did Ashley arrive and unload his supply of goods, than he turned and headed back to St. Louis, taking with him the furs that the company had collected up until then.

  One of the boxes that Ashley unloaded was full of blacksmith tools. Jim was delighted. He may have been the youngest, and in many ways the least experienced, but there was no man working for Ashley and Henry's Rocky Mountain Fur Company ihat knew blacksmithing like Jim Bridger did. It was his chance to shine.

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Large of bone,

  Deep-chested, that his

  Great heart might have

  Play

  --It seemed That he had

  Never been young...

  -John G. Neihardt

  "The Song of Hugh Glass"

  IT SEEMED that each time grief reached for Hugh Glass, it touched him in a different way. For three months he alternately searched and waited for some sign of Little Feather, but no sign was forthcoming. More than any time before in his life, he was now a man fully lost. Surrounded by friends, he was alone once more. Toward the end of summer, when word came requesting a delegation of Pawnees to go to St. Louis and meet with the representatives of "The Great White Father", Hugh decided to go with them. There was little doubt of his intentions. Ta'-Ka h nr'uks was returning to live once more among the whites.

  "My people believe," Big Axe told him, "that the moon, who is female, gave us the bow, and that the Sun, who is male, gave us the arrow. One without the other does little good. Perhaps it is good for you to go back to your people at this time. In my heart, though, I am sad at your going."

  "You have taught me much that I will never forget," Hugh told him. "You have been my true friend. Wherever I go, I will hold your memory strong here, in my hcart." Hugh touched his chest as he spoke.

  "Tu-ra-heh!" Big Axe declared. "It is good!"

  The delegation left in late August. By October, Hugh Glass was a white man once more.

  ***

  He had lost most of his worldly possessions in the river. That meant little to Hugh. Losing Little Feather made everything else unimportant. She had been the one thing in his life that had brought him only joy. When he left, the Pawnees gave him many gifts. When he said good-bye to Old Knife in St. Louis, Hugh had half a pack of furs and four horses. He sold the furs and two of the horses, all of which brought him nearly four-hundred dollars. That would last him quite a while, if he was careful. At least it would give him time to figure out his next move.

  What Hugh hadn't realized before about white people was that most of them smelled bad. Living among the indians, he had developed the habit of bathing regularly, or else cleaning his body with oil or grease. White people, he remembered suddenly, rarely bathed more than once a week, whether they were male or female.

  Hugh bought himself some clothes and checked into a moderately expensive hotel. His first night there he had a hot bath in a fancy tub, ate a fine meal, and bought a bottle of expensive whiskey. He took the bottle back to his hotel room, where he proceeded to get mildly drunk. When the tears began to fall, he tried to stop them and couldn't. Months of stored grief began to pour out of him in wave after wave. Away from the Pawnees, Hugh was forced to recognize and accept the fact that Little Feather was gone, and that he would never see her again. The weight of that realization was almost too much for him too bear.

  After awhile there was a gentle knock at his door, and a feminine voice meekly asked if he was all right. He managed to choke back that he was. For the remainder of the night, until he finally fell asleep, Hugh bit down on his pillow to keep from sobbing too loudly.

  Hugh Glass was finally back with his own people. He was a free man and he had money. Without Little Feather, none of that meant anything to him.

  ***

  Hugh was slow to adapt back into civilized life. He didn't seem to fit in anymore, didn't feel as if he belonged. He roamed the streets of St. Louis, looking for the most part like everyone else, but inside he was an empty man. He drank too much and spent too much money. A couple of times he bought prostitutes. Nothing seemed to help. When his money began to run low, he moved out of the hotel and took a room in a boarding house.

  Thanksgiving came and went, then Christmas. One week later, Hugh celebrated the arrival of 1823 along with the rest of St. Louis. His thoughts, though, were over a thousand miles away.

  It would soon be time for the winter hunt. The buffalo would have their winter coats now, the ones that made the best and warmest robes. Hugh thought about Big Axe and Lucky Hawk, Old Knife, Big Soldier and all the others. He would never go back to them--Little Feather was gone and, without her, it would never be the same. He thought about them a lot, though. Wherever they were, out in the plains or nestled in the hills, he hoped they were fat and happy.

  He wished them well.

  On January 16, 1823 Hugh was sitting in a restaurant, waiting for his breakfast and reading the Missouri Republican. Outside, it was shaping up to be a miserable day, cold, dark, and snowy, but in the restaurant it was warm. Hugh sipped coffee from a china cup and read the newspaper. In a little over two and a half months, he had gone through a good portion of what most people would have considered a good years' salary. Hugh didn't regret it, but now he was beginning to feel the pinch. He needed to find something to do, and soon.

  About halfway down the page, Hugh saw the ad.

  FOR THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS

  The subscribers wish to engage One Hundred MEN,

  to ascend the Missouri to the Rocky Mountains,

  There to be employed as hunters.

  As a compensation to each man fit for such business, $200.00 Per Annum,

  will be given for his services, as aforesaid.

  For particulars, apply to J.V Garmier, or W. Ashley, at St. Louis.

  The expedition will set out for this place on or before March next.

  ASHLEY AND HENRY

  Hugh felt a surge of excitement when he read the ad. The thought of going back into the wilderness intrigued him. He was already beginning to grow tired of the city. He had no other prospects, and his supply of funds was seriously depleted. If he was careful, though, he could make what was left last until March.

  ***

  He had no trouble getting Ashley to hire him. He was an expert tracker and hunter; he knew how to survive out on the open plains or in the hills. He was familiar with many of the indian tribes and their ways. In all probability, Hugh would be more at home in the wilderness than any man Ashley had. In addition to all this, Glass was educated. Not that it made much of a difference where they were going, but only about five men out of the hundred that Ashley would hire would be able to read and write. Ashley knew that one could never tell when that might come in handy.

  ***

  "I ascended the Masuri and arrived at the mouth of the Mussel Shell, on the latter end of November where I wintered with thirteen others here was a remarkable escape of my scalp as two large parteys of indians wintered within twenty miles of us and our better enimys the black feet "

  -Daniel T. Potts

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  THE EXPEDITION left St. Louis on Monday, March 7, 1823. Hardly had
they gotten under way when a mishap took place that took the life of one man. The Missouri Republican reported it this way:

  Two keel boats belonging to General Ashley left this place Monday for the Yellow Stone, for the purpose of hunting and trapping... We understand a man fell overboard from one of the boats on Monday and was drowned.

  One week later, the two boats stopped at St. Charles, to take on more supplies. Another accident happened. The Republic carried that story:

  AFFECTING OCCASION

  On Thursday last, three men belonging to General Ashley's expedition to the Yellow Stone were conveying a quantity of powder in a cart to the boats at St. Charles, when fire was communicated to the powder by means of a pipe... The men were blown into the air to the height of several hundred feet, and the cart shivered to pieces, and the horses much injured. One of them survived a few minutes after his descent to the ground; the others were entirely lifeless and burnt in the most shocking manner.

  To Hugh Glass, who had seen more than his share of bad luck, these were not good signs...

  ***

  For the first of the Ashley-Henry trappers, things were faring no better. In an effort to stay ahead of the Immel-Jones party, Henry took 13 men and moved upstream, to the mouth of the Milk River. They wintered in a spot known as The Musselshell. It had been a frigid winter, with ice running to four feet thick. The trappers were snug in their camp, though. A small herd of buffalo remained close by for most of the winter, so for once, they had plenty to eat.

  After months of strained tolerance, the trappers managed to repair the damage that had been done between Carpenter and Mike Fink. At least they thought they had. Carpenter was willing--he'd felt bad about giving his adopted father a beating, even though Mike had it coming. Fink had been stubborn. He nursed his anger through the winter. As far as Mike was concerned, his pride and his manhood had been injured. He felt he'd been betrayed, and by someone he had given everything to. Finally, though, the trappers got him to relent, and the two men became friends once more. After all, Mike had been King of the River for most of his life. Who better to take away his crown than his boy, Carpenter.

  As a show of friendship, they decided on their old game of shooting cups of whiskey off each other's head. As always, Carpenter's aim was true. Then it was Mike's turn. Mike missed the cup, shooting Carpenter between the eyes.

  Mike tried declaring his innocence, but there was at least one man in the group who refused to believe it. Insisting that the killing was intentional, a man named Talbot, who was Carpenter's best friend, shot Mike Fink dead on the spot.

  Three days later, while crossing a river, Talbot drowned. Some of the trappers said it was the ghost of Mike Fink, King of the River, taking his revenge.

  So far, the year 1823 wasn't starting off too well.

  ***

  By April, the spring thaw had softened things enough for Henry's men to continue upriver. The party had gone only a short distance before yet another mishap uccurred. As one of the trappers was loading his rifle, it discharged and drove the rarnrod through both knees of one of the other men--Daniel T. Potts. Two men were selected to take Potts back to Ft. Henry. Eleven others continued upriver.

  On May 4th, the party was moving past the Great Falls, near the mouth of another, as yet unnamed river. It was a warm, lovely spring day. The men had taken the canoes out of the water to move them past the falls. The area they were passing through was breathtaking. This, Jim Bridger told himself, was what he had come to see.

  They were at a spot just beyond the falls, near the shore and getting ready to put the canoes back into the water. The air about the trappers buzzed and twittered with the sounds of insects and birds. Over this could be heard the muffled sound of the falls. Jim was just putting one of the canoes back into the water, when he noticed the buzzing had stopped.

  He stood up to listen. When he did an arrow struck the canoe he had been pushing into the water. In a moment the clearing was ablaze with gunfire and arrows. Jim dove for his rifle. A second arrow narrowly missed him as he rolled into the bushes.

  He resisted the urge to fire blindly back in the direction the arrow had come from, aware that, under these conditions, the indians could reload their bows much faster than he could his rifle. He forced himself to wait for a target.

  No target appeared. The attack broke off as quickly as it began, leaving the woods silent except for the sound of rushing water. They waited.

  After fifteen minutes Major Henry called out, "I think they're gone!"

  Jim and two others moved carefully forward, scanning the bushes and looking for signs. The indians were nowhere to be found.

  The arrows the indians left behind showed them to be Blackfeet--a tribe that Major Andrew Henry had become very familiar with twelve years earlier. In their wake, the indians left behind four dead and two wounded among the whites.

  Carefully, the men turned their canoes back down river and headed back to Fort Henry.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  May 31, 1823

  THE TWO KEELBOATS had stopped at a place that, at this moment, Hugh Glass did not want to be. They were at the Arikara village. General Ashley had gone ashore with a man by the name of Ed Rose. Rose had lived with the Arikara's for a number of years and knew Gray Eyes well. Ashley and Rose were going to barter with Gray Eyes for horses. Ashley really didn't like Rose, and only half-trusted him. It was easy to see why this was. Rose was one-half Negro. He was big and dark and surly, with a manner that did little to invite friendliness. Ashley was Lieutenant Governor and General of the Missouri militia. He preferred his men of color to be a little more servile and a lot less independent than Ed Rose would ever be.

  Personally, Hugh thought Rose was all right. Like Hugh, he had spent a lot of time with the indians. It showed when he was in the woods.

  Ashley and Rose came back after being in the village for only a short while. The Arikaras were going to barter with them. The dealing would take place the following day, on the beach between the village and the river. This was Ashley's idea--to conduct their business on neutral ground--and it was a good one. Hugh knew Gray Eyes well enough to know that the Arikara chief's hatred of whites could not be underestimated.

  As for Hugh, he planned to stay out of sight as much as possible. For three years now Gray Eyes had looked upon him with the same amity and good will that a fox watches a rabbit with. It would have been very bad manners for Gray Eyes to have killed Hugh while Hugh was living among the Pawnees. It would also be considered bad manners now, for Hugh not to pay a visit to his "friends", the Arikaras. He planned to be bad mannered, and alive. Old Knife couldn't protect him here.

  ***

  He didn't care much for the way the negotiations went. Ashley had gotten the horses he wanted all right, but in doing so he gave the Arikaras something they wanted very badly, and that was gunpowder.

  To make matters worse, a storm had moved in during the negotiating, whic made it impossible for the trappers to continue on their way. In a show of good will and hospitality, Gray Eyes invited the trappers to come into the village to trade for other things they might need, like moccasins--or women.

  Arikara women, Hugh knew, were seductively beautiful. Far too many of the trappers went into the village for him to be comfortable.

  Hugh stayed in his tent by the beach and listened to the storm. He kept his rifle close to him.

  ***

  Lt. Governor William H. Ashley was not a man who was used to having his sleep disturbed, especially by a man he had no particular trust or liking for, like Ed Rose.

  "All right!" he grumbled. "All right, give me a minute to get my pants on! This better be important! What the devil time is it, anyway?"

  "It's about--" Lightning flashed very close to them. Thunder drowned Rose' words.

  "It's about three A.M. sir," Rose repeated.

  Ashley came out of the tent, pulling his suspenders up over his shoulders. "This damn well better be important!" he growled. "It is, sir,"
Rose said. "Mr. Stephens has been killed."

  "Aaron Stephens? How?"

  "The Arikaras, they killed him. There were about a dozen of us there, at the village. The others left a few hours ago. Mr. Stephens and I stayed on. Then, a little while ago, a fight broke out over a squaw that Mr. Stephens had been spendin time with. Three of the Arikaras got him down and gutted him"

  "Damn!" Ashley swore. "Are you sure of this? Did you see it yourself?"

  "Sure as I'm standin' here, sir. He's dead all right. And there's more. pretty sure they're gettin' ready to attack."

  Lightning flashed again. Ashley looked at Ed Rose.

  "No," he said after a moment. "They won't attack in the rain."

  "Beggin' your pardon General, but-"

  "No!" Ashley cut him off. "Listen to me! They won't attack in the rain! The was some excitement. A man was killed and it's unfortunate, but by tomorrow things will have calmed down some. We can't do anything about it tonight. We'l deal with it tomorrow."

  "General, I don't think..."

  "Damnit Rose, listen to me! I am Lieutenant Governor and General of the mili tia for the state of Missouri! I didn't get there by flying off half-cocked every time some fool gets himself killed! Now, do as I tell you! Go to bed and get some sleep. I'll straighten this thing out tomorrow!"

  Rose straightened, suddenly losing his self-effacing manner. He gave Ashley look that caused the General to take a step backward. Then he turned and strode off in the direction of his tent. Ashley watched him go. He didn't like Rose. The man was much too arrogant a darky--even if he was free and lived with the indians. If anything, that fact made Rose even less trustworthy in the General's eyes.

  Hugh was dozing. He had stayed in his tent since the day before, rising only to eat or to relieve himself. He knew, as Rose had, that the Arikaras would probably attack if they saw a chance for it and the trappers stayed there long enough. Theindians outnumbered the trappers ten to one. Ashley had given them gunpowder. Now they had only to kill the whites--which was what they all wanted to do how--and they would have more. A lot more.