Runnin’ Wolf got up and got his bow and handed it to Raven Wing and said, “Show me.”
Without sayin’ a thing, she took the bow and stuck an arrow in a cottonwood sapling ’bout thirty yards out. I asked Sun Flower if she could do that, and she nodded. She said she wasn’t as good with one as Raven Wing, but she could shoot. I was both surprised and pleased.
We sat back down, and I asked Runnin’ Wolf what this was all ’bout. And he said we was gonna be travelin’ without a village to protect the women, that if we were out huntin’ or trappin’ and the women were alone, he wanted to know they could defend themselves. I was mighty glad he was figurin’ ahead like that. It showed I was still a greenhorn, that I hadn’t thought that far ahead. So I set my mind to teachin’ Sun Flower to shoot the squirrel gun and said, “We needed to make a bow for Raven Wing.”
Runnin’ Wolf just smiled and said, “It will be done.”
I spent the rest of the afternoon smoothin’ out the spoons and bowls I had roughed out in the mornin’. By dinnertime, I had us each an eatin’ spoon and two big ones for the pot. We now had four bowls. We had six tin cups, two tin plates, a small and large coffee pot, the large cookin’ pot, and two fry pans. We now had two axes and two spades, we had our ridin’ mounts, and now with the two mules, we had six pack animals and enough food staples to last us a year, and we now had a buffalo hide lodge. We had our weapons with plenty of powder, lead, and patch cloth, and our traps. We had some blacksmith tools and harness repair kit back at the dugout. I figured we were outfitted as well as anybody in the mountains and a lot better than most. And I wished Pa could see everything we had accomplished.
Next mornin’ we were goin’ out to start teachin’ the women to shoot, when a group of eighteen trappers came by with all their pack animals fully loaded. They said they had nothin’ left to trade and was headed up to the Wind River country for the fall season. Their leader was a man by the name of Henry Clayson, and he told me to watch my hair, that with what stories were bein’ told all over the mountains ’bout me, that there would be a lot of young warriors wantin’ to be the one that took the scalp of Grizzly Killer. He told me many Injuns out there figured the greater the warrior they kill, the greater their own medicine. He said most would fear me ’cause of the stories. But many would want to take my medicine for their own.
We shook hands, and I wished them good huntin’, and we watched as they headed north to the Bear River trail that would lead them ’round the big bend where they would leave the Bear and head east toward the headwaters of the Seeds-Kee-Dee. From what many of the trapper had told us, that was mighty pretty country up there. I figured maybe we’d have to go up that way next year, since that was the home country of Sun Flower and Raven Wing.
We headed out toward the creek we’d followed up when we went huntin’ a couple of days ago. The trappers were callin’ it Blacksmith’s Fork, and we found a right nice spot that had a cut bank of sand. We set up some pieces of bark for targets in front of that sand so we could dig the balls out easy enough and remold them. I figured we had plenty of lead but no need to waste it anyhow. You just never know when something might happen, and you lose it crossin’ a river or use more that you figured in a battle or just whatever might come up. Whenever Pa had practiced shootin’, he had always dug up the used balls, and we’d remold them even when we were back home.
I had used this squirrel gun since I was ’bout ten years old, and I was well used to the weight of the long barrels of all the rifles. But Sun Flower, bein’ just a small woman and never heftin’ a rifle before, was strugglin’ to hold that barrel still, so I tied together a couple of good sticks to make a rest for her to set the barrel in. The first time she shot, she jumped, and I could tell she was embarrassed. I figured she was as competitive and determined a girl as I’d ever met. She learned to reload, and she shot till she was hittin’ a piece of bark with every shot. Then she started to practice without the forked sticks to rest the barrel on, and in another half dozen shots, she was hittin’ them bark pieces again. She had a big smile on her face when she handed the rifle back to me. I wouldn’t take it back, and I told her it was hers now.
While Sun Flower and I had been there, shootin’, Runnin’ Wolf and Raven Wing had ridden on up the creek. While I was digging the lead balls out of the sand, they came back, and Runnin’ Wolf was carryin’ three oak branches ’bout six feet long and maybe a little over an inch thick. He said he could make good bows with these. We loaded up and headed back. On our way back, we came across where an old beaver pond had been, and it was clear full of willows. Runnin’ Wolf stopped and said he was goin’ to cut a bunch of arrow shafts.
We went on back to camp and spent the rest of the day and the next just workin’ on things that needed doin’. Sun Flower and Raven Wing were finishin’ up those hides and had that grizzly robe downright soft. It was gonna make a mighty warm bed come winter. I made up a possibles bag for Sun Flower with a new patch knife, flint, a small roll of patch cloth, two dozen .36-caliber balls, most of which I remolded from the ones she had shot, the round ball mold, and meltin’ spoon. I even put a couple of sewin’ needles in it and some sinew wound around a small stick.
Runnin’ Wolf worked on the bows and arrows. He had peeled all the bark off the willow arrow shafts and made a little rack he set by the fire to dry them, bein’ real careful to keep them turned so’s they’d dry even and stay straight. He had found some small pieces of flint and was chippin’ out arrowheads. We would visit with others of the village, and many trappers came by to visit. It was a right pleasant thing to pass the time that way.
The next mornin’, I saddled Ol’ Red and the roan, and Sun Flower and I took a long ride up the canyon of the Little Bear River. I just wanted to do some scoutin’ and see some more of the country. We jumped several groups of deer. Sun Flower wanted to shoot one by herself, and so the next group we saw, we stopped, and with me stayin’ with Red and the roan, she started her stalk. She disappeared in the brush by the river, and I just waited. ’Bout twenty minutes or so later, I heard her shot and heard deer runnin’ away through the brush.
I climbed up on Ol’ Red, and leadin’ her roan, I walked on up alongside the river. I came out in the clearin’ and just started to laugh. Sun Flower was guttin’ a small buck. She was bloody up to her elbows, and the only thing she was wearin’ was a big smile. She was completely naked. As I rode up, I could see her dress was laid out on a bush, and she said she didn’t want to get it bloody. That was a picture I’d remember forever, her standin’ there, smilin’ at me, bloody and naked and so proud of her kill. We finished up with the deer and went to the river. I really can’t remember enjoyin’ myself more than watchin’ her wash the blood off herself in the cold mountain stream then sittin’ on a rock in the sun to dry before puttin’ her dress back on. I tied that deer behind the saddle on Ol’ Red, and we headed back. I was right proud of Sun Flower and as happy as I could remember bein’.
It was late afternoon when we got back, and most of the lodges were down. Runnin’ Wolf said a runner had come to the village and told of a big Blackfoot raidin’ party attackin’ Shoshone and Crow villages and the Shoshone needed help. I found Chargin’ Bull and asked if they needed our help. With Sun Flower with me, she said Chargin’ Bull said his heart was glad that Grizzly Killer offered his help, but where they were goin’ was many days’ travel and farther away from the land where we were goin’, that the Blackfeet were longtime enemies of the Shoshone, and it was matter to be settled by Shoshone. He said most of his warriors had already left, and he was followin’ with the village. He said we would meet again and to take care of our Shoshone women. I just nodded and shook his hand. He spoke for a moment more, and Sun Flower nodded, smiled, and then spoke another moment to her chief.
They were now mostly gone, and Chargin’ Bull mounted up and left ridin’ to the head of the column. I asked Sun Flower what the chief had said, and she told me he said to take good care of Grizzly Killer and Runnin
’ Wolf, that we were good men. She said she asked Chargin’ Bull to tell her father and mother of her and her sister and how happy they were.
Just as we got that deer on a rack and a good smoky fire goin’ under it, several riders came by and said there was big trouble at Rendezvous, and several men were hurt bad.
17 Too Many Ways To Die
Not knowin’ what had happened, I wouldn’t leave the women, so we all saddled up and headed to the tradin’ area. There were several men laid out on the ground and a few more sittin’ on stumps with bloody bandages on their heads, arms, and legs. Two that was on the ground were bein’ totally left be, and it was plain they were dead. We tied off our mounts, and I asked Ely and Grub what we could do to help. He just said, “Maybe start digging some graves. Two are already dead, and there are two more ain’t gonna last much longer.” As I asked what had happened, Sun Flower and Raven Wing just went right over and started to help doctorin’ them. General Ashley had a bolt of trade cloth out, and two of his clerks were cuttin’ it in strips for bandages.
Raven Wing came over and said they needed my help, so I left Grub and Ely and followed Raven Wing. She told one of the men that I could fix a broke leg, that I had fixed Runnin’ Wolf’s broke leg, and it was fine. This man was in a lot of pain and was drinkin’ some whisky to help. I yelled at Runnin’ Wolf, askin’ him to go find some bark and splints like we’d used on his leg, and he and Grub took off together. I still didn’t know what had happened, but these injuries weren’t from weapons or a fight.
I’d seen these men in camp but didn’t know them. This one here with a broken leg I’d heard was called Smokey. His leg was twisted in a mighty bad way, his head was bloody with a big knot on one side, and two fingers on his left hand were smashed. Then I heard someone say behind me they was comin’ back from a hunt and got caught in a rock slide. Someone else said there were too many ways to die in these Rocky Mountains.
Runnin’ Wolf and Grub came up and laid out what they’d found, and Grub asked if that would do, and I just nodded. Raven Wing had come back over and was tryin’ to bandage his fingers. I told him I ain’t no doctor and I’d only done this a time or two and never on a break this bad. This trapper just looked at me through bloodshot and pain-filled eyes and said, “Just do your best. There ain’t nobody here any better.”
I had Grub and Runnin’ Wolf hold his shoulders and asked Ely to hold his head and Raven Wing to hold his hand. Sun Flower came over by me as I carefully picked up his foot and pulled hard and turned it straight. He screamed, and Jimbo howled, and he passed out. I held his foot in place while Runnin’ Wolf wrapped his leg with a piece of elk hide and then the bark and splint sticks, and Grub tied it up with wide strips of the trade cloth. His breathin’ was fast and shallow, and I wondered if he would make it. Someone else said, “Looks like Bonner just went under.”
Next mornin’ there were three graves by the banks of the Little Bear River and seven injured men. Smokey was alive and awake but in a lot of pain. I figured it would be a long time ’fore these men were up and trappin’ again. But with the Rocky Mountain Fur Co. brigades gonna winter right here, I figured there would be men to care for ’em. We got some aspen bark tea started to see if that would help them some. We had been up all night, and when everything quieted down, we headed back to our camp.
As we approached our lone teepee, I could see where the Injun village had been was a mess. There were discarded items thrown here and there, bone piles that the dogs had scattered, and all the grass was worn down. It didn’t look like a place I wanted to stay any longer. But we ate some of the deer Sun Flower had shot yesterday that was still on the rack and got the smokin’ fire started again and went inside and slept for a few hours.
When I woke, Runnin’ Wolf was already up by the fire, workin’ on arrows. He said he needed some good rawhide to finish the bows. We talked ’bout leavin’ Willow Valley and headin’ to the Ute country and findin’ his village and his sister. He figured his sister and others would be worried ’bout him. He had told them he would be back before summer. The women were up and fixin’ a meal. Raven Wing said they needed more elk hides and said we should go where we could hunt on the way. This time of the year, most of the elk were up in the high meadows. So we decided we would leave the next day and take the trail up Blacksmith’s Fork to the basin where we found the elk before and turn south from there instead of goin’ through the valley to the south and on to the Weber River.
Late in the afternoon, we went back over to the tradin’ area and said our farewells. Smokey looked a little better, but he was gonna be down for quite a spell. He thanked me for doin’ what I’d done for his leg, and I told him not to rush the healin’. A couple of the injured men were up and ’bout, but the others hadn’t moved much at all since they were brought in. We visited with Grub and Ely for a while and said our good-byes. Grub, with a twinkle in his eye, told us to take right good care of those purty girls of ours, or he’d be ’round to steal ’em from us.
I found General Ashley, and he was havin’ a parley with Jed Smith, Bill and Milt Sublette, Jim Beckwourth, Tom Fitzpatrick, and Davy Jackson. Jim Bridger, Robert Newell, and Joe Meek were standin’ by a fire nearby. We said farewell and good huntin’ to all of them, and they bid us the same. Jimbo was gettin’ a lot of attention, and he was even lettin’ some of the men he knew rub his ears a bit. When the farewells were over, we headed back to our teepee. I made up a pan of cornbread, and we ate more of the smoked deer, cornbread, and strong sweetened coffee.
Next mornin’ we were up at dawn, and after biscuits and coffee, we started right in packin’ the horses. I was amazed how fast the women had the teepee down and was usin’ two of the lodge poles for a travois to carry it. The Buffalo hides were mighty old and worn, but there were enough all stitched together, and it was still heavy. When we had everything loaded, I was mighty glad I’d made the deal for the two extra mules, ’cause all the animals were fully loaded. The mules were good solid packers and had been on the trail for months, so they didn’t mind goin’ at all. Jimbo took off scoutin’ ahead as usual, and me and Runnin’ Wolf would trade off the lead. The women were in the middle, each leadin’ two pack horses. The last pack horse had the travois, and either me or Runnin’ Wolf would bring up the rear with the mules. This was how we would travel each day.
The trail goin’ up Blacksmith’s Fork was right narrow and rocky. We had to lift the travois a couple of times over rocks, and by the time we reached the basin at the top of the canyon, the animals all needed a rest. We found a grassy spot by the creek and let them rest and graze for a couple of hours. While the rest was restin’, there I rode Red off a couple of miles to the south to get a better idea of the land. This basin was a valley a couple of miles wide with just grass and brush in the middle and timbered mountains to both the east and west. I figured the Bear River was only twenty or thirty miles to the east over the mountain and the Weber River maybe thirty or forty miles to the south. Goin’ over the mountains to the east looked rough for how we were loaded, so I planned on followin’ the valley we was in to the south and find an easier crossin’.
We hadn’t talked ’bout the route Runnin’ Wolf wanted to take into Ute country, but as heavy as we were loaded, I figured we needed to head to the dugout and cache most of our supplies. Runnin’ Wolf agreed and said from the dugout we would follow the Bear River up over the pass and follow what the trappers were callin’ the Duchesne River down to where Rock Creek runs into it, and he figured, by now his village would be camped somewhere along Rock Creek for the summer.
We only traveled another five miles or so and made camp along a small stream that was lined with willows and was runnin’ down from the west. We didn’t set up a shelter at all, with the weather still bein’ dry and warm. I figured we were in friendly country right now, so I didn’t worry much ’bout a fire. But still, just out of caution, we built the fire in a little clearin’ in the willow so it wouldn’t be easy to spot.
With t
he high mountain to the west, the sun set real early, but it stayed light a mighty long time afterward, and we enjoyed the long summer evenin’. There were deer comin’ down to the creek for water. Some were right near camp and didn’t seem bothered by us bein’ here at all. Just as the evenin’ star showed up, a wolf started its mournful howl across the valley and was answered by one just to the south. The darker it became, the stars appeared, and I was still in awe lookin’ at the night sky. I’d been in the Rocky Mountains for over a year now, and the number of stars lookin’ like you can reach out and touch them was a sight I never got tired of. The smoke from the fire had been keepin’ the mosquitoes at bay, but as we let it burn down, they got so bad we had to crawl under the bedrolls for protection. The next mornin’, we were all scratchin’ the bites, even Jimbo.
The horses and mules had been on good grass all night and seemed well rested and ready to go. We loaded them all and continued south. We saw several moose that mornin’, but we were fully loaded and couldn’t carry that much meat, so we just watched them as they ran from the creek and headed into the timber, away from us. The abundance of game in this country was really something to behold. I asked how anyone could ever go hungry in a land with so much game. Runnin’ Wolf said, when feedin’ a village and the deer and elk are pursued all the time, they leave and go places they are hard to find. He went on sayin’, “It takes many animals to feed a village, and the hunters must travel farther and farther from the village to find the game. That is why the villages must move often, or the people will go hungry.” He said it was easy to find game to feed just a few like us, but hard to find enough for a village, and people do go hungry in the winter.
We made good time goin’ through this wide valley, and by late mornin’, we came to a large canyon runnin’ east and west, endin’ this wide valley we had been in. We turned east, headin’ up the canyon through grass covered hills and large stands of quakin’ aspen. The climb up was steady and at times so steep we would have to switch back and forth, movin’ sideways along the hills, and that became hard on the horse with the travois. We would stop and rest often after crossin’ these steep areas. We jumped deer right regular as we traveled through the stands of quakies and watched as they bounded away. We nooned in a small clearin’ that had a spring comin’ out of the ground and formed a creek less than a foot wide.
Grizzly Killer: The Making of a Mountain Man Page 15