Bill Biddon, Trapper; or, Life in the Northwest

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

  CHAPTER VIII.

  TRAPPING AMONG THE INDIANS.

  One of the savages cast some wood upon the fire, and as it blazed up,I saw that five of them stood around me. Resistance would be useless,as my rifle, knife, and revolver were in their hands. Their faces weredevoid of paint, and they were probably a party of hunters who hadfallen upon my trail. I remembered my spectral visitant a few hoursbefore, and doubted not that he was the means of the tedious captivitywhich had now only commenced.

  After I had arisen to my feet, the captors continued conversing in anunknown tongue. It perplexed me to understand how one of them was ableto address me in tolerably good English; but I supposed he must havehad intercourse with the fur traders and hunters and the forts andstations of the northwest.

  The debate of the Indians I judged to be a decision upon the coursethey were to follow. Singularly enough, I had hardly any fears at allin regard to my life, feeling pretty well convinced that they intendedan endless captivity for me. I doubted not I should be adopted intotheir tribe, and doomed to the office of the meanest slave. This wasnot a very encouraging prospect it is true, but it was infinitelysuperior to that of death.

  After a few minutes' conversation, the Indians apparently came to asatisfactory conclusion; for they seated themselves around the fire,ordering me to do the same, and here they sat as grim and silent asstatues, not a muscle moving, excepting an occasional wink of the eyesat long intervals. I watched them, it seemed for an hour, shiveringwith cold all the time, although my captors had not deprived me of myblanket.

  At last, as I looked up, I saw that day was breaking. There was afaint light in the east, heralding the approach of the sun. Shortlyafter, it burst above the forest line, lighting up the interminableprairie and wilderness with its golden glory. The savages sprang totheir feet, seized their weapons and started away.

  "Keep close, and don't run!" said the savage who had addressed me atfirst.

  "No danger of my attempting it," I answered, following almostcheerfully behind them.

  And in truth it would have been the height of folly to make an attemptto escape. Each of the savages was a fleet runner, each possessed aloaded rifle (and one of them had another, together with my revolver,which, by the way, was a source of great wonderment and perplexity tohim), and the utmost limit that I possibly could have gained, as willbe evident to the reader, was perhaps ten feet. So I meditated noattempt, but followed close in the footsteps of my captors.

  No halt was made for breakfast, and during the whole forenoon wetramped through the wilderness in a northerly direction. As I knew Iwas in the extreme upper part of the great Nebraska Territory whentaken captive, I felt pretty certain that I was now in the Hudson BayTerritory, within the British line. But here my companions made a turnto the eastward, and then, strangely enough, proceeded south again, sothat I was uncertain whether I was now in the United States or not.The reason of this detour on the part of the savages I never knew andcould only conjecture. I afterward imagined it was for the purpose ofmisleading and bewildering me in case I should ever attempt to leavethem.

  When the sun was overhead, the Indians halted upon the bank of a smallflashing stream, and prepared their meal. A half-hour before halting,one of the Indians had dodged off into the forest. Some time after Iheard the report of a rifle, and in a few minutes he returned with alarge ptarmigan in his hand. The feathers were plucked from this, andthe body dressed much after the fashion of civilized communities. Itwas then partially cooked over the blaze, and despite the change ofcircumstances, I made as good and substantial a meal upon it as didany of my companions.

  The meal finished, the savages squatted before the fire, drew forththeir pipes and commenced silently smoking, their eyes glitteringthrough the vapor with suppressed fierceness, as ever and anon asidelong glance was bestowed upon me. One of the Indians--he who spokeEnglish--was examining my revolver. He closed one eye and peeredwonderingly into the six little barrels; then he fingered about thehammer, took off the cap, tasted it, and replaced it. (It may beremarked here that at the time of my experience, percussion caps werealmost unknown in this region. As they were of comparatively recentinvention, few of the trappers consented to use them until a long timeafter.) I was expecting each moment to see the weapon dischargeitself, as it was fully charged, and was handled awkwardly. TheIndian looked at it in every direction, at last gave it up. He took asmell of it, and snuffing the gunpowder, handed it to me.

  "What is he?"

  "A young gun," I answered with a smile.

  As I took the weapon I looked about me. There were five unsuspicioussavages, and there were six messengers of death at my command. For aninstant a wild resolve thrilled me; but it was for an instant only. Mysoul revolted at the wholesale slaughter I should be compelled toinflict, and I looked at my interlocutor with a pleasant smile.

  "Does he shoot?" he queried, his dark eyes lighting up with curiosity.

  "Of course. Would you like to see me fire it?"

  "Yaw! shoot at him," he answered, pointing at the trunk of a largetree.

  "What part of it?"

  "Hit him where you mind to."

  "Oh, let's have a mark," I laughed, stepping forward and tearing off asmall piece of the bark, so as to offer a red spot several inches indiameter. The other savages were now surveying my motions withinterest, and with some degree of suspicion the formidable lookinglittle weapon in my hand. I saw there was an opportunity for making agood impression and I resolved to do it. I stepped back a few paces,took a careful, though apparently a careless aim, and fired the sixbarrels in succession with tolerable good effect.

  "Just look at the mark," I remarked, rather stiffly.

  The Indian stepped forward and examined the holes, all within an inchor two of the center. Then with his knife he pried out each bullet,and showed them to his companions. They grunted their satisfaction, orrather wonder, and turned the diminutive six-shooter over and over intheir hands, totally unable to comprehend how such a number of fatalshots could come almost simultaneously from it. I loaded and fired ita number of times, and my friend--he who spoke English--asked me tomake him a present of it. I assented with the greatest pleasure, as Ihad no power to refuse, and volunteered to instruct him in its use,and all things considered we were getting on quite intimate terms.

  This proceeding of mine was a stroke of policy, to which I believe Iowe my life. My apparent cheerfulness, my readiness to acquiesce inall their wishes, convinced them that I cherished no sullenvindictiveness toward them, and I am well satisfied that had I askedmy captors at this time to allow me to proceed unmolested upon my way,they would have done so. Yet I was perfectly willing to tarry withthem a while, for reasons which, I trust, are obvious to the reader,and I made no request of them.

  We remained in this spot for over an hour practicing with therevolver. At the end of that time its new owner had made such progressas to be able to strike a good-sized tree a yard distant, at nearlyevery shot.

  "Him nice thing!" he remarked, shoving it carefully down in his belt.

  "Very good in a close hug with a bear or foe," I replied.

  "He is, by dam," he added, pulling it forth and again examining eachpart.

  There was but one drawback to the savage's prospect of pleasure. I hadbut a small quantity of caps, and of course there was no means ofobtaining any among his own kindred. He however satisfied himself withthe thought that he could obtain more at some of the trading posts inthat section.

  The line of march was again taken up, and continued until nightfall.They traveled in Indian file, my dusky friend bringing up the rear,and myself directly in front of him. This plan was adopted, notthrough any fear of pursuit, as they were in their own country, butbecause caution and watchfulness are habitual to the North AmericanIndian. Every now and then the click of the revolver was audiblebehind, but I felt no apprehension as I knew the savage was onlyexamining it for his own pleasure.

  Just before dusk we reached a large and rapidly flowing stream.
Herethe rifles were slung about their persons, and we grasped hands andplunged unhesitatingly in. Had not this expedient been adopted, Ishould never have reached the opposite side. We sank to our shouldersseveral times, and the boisterous current lifted me clean from thebottom, but the strong arms of my captors were all-efficient, and heldme firmly in my place until the opposite shore was reached, with nogreater misfortune than the uncomfortableness of our soaked andclinging garments.

  The sun had sunk behind the western mountains, and the deep gloom ofnight was settling over the wilderness, when as we reached the top ofa swell, I saw for the first time the Indian village. It lay in a sortof valley, and numbered sixty or seventy lodges. As seen in the dimtwilight these looked singularly picturesque and fanciful. I could seedark forms flitting like shadows about the lodges, and the low hum oftheir conversation was audible. We were descried, as our forms stoodout in relief against the sky, but no signals were given by eitherparty.

  As we descended into the valley my heart began to fail me, at what Ifeared my reception would be. Stories of the tortures undergone bycaptives came over me, and I ventured my fears to my friend.

  "What your name?" he asked, halting and turning toward me.

  "Will," I replied.

  "Will stay here, and me come and fix things. My name Jim," said he,taking the name probably given him by the whites with whom he wasacquainted.

  The other savages seeing us halting stopped also, and lookedsuspiciously. Jim (as I shall hereafter name him) said something in anunintelligible tongue and they passed on.

  "Stay here, Will, and me fix things."

  With this he disappeared, and I seated myself upon the ground to awaithis return. It struck me as rather curious for him to give a captivesuch a good opportunity to escape, but it pleased me withal, and itneed not be told I made no attempt to make off.

  In a few moments he returned, bearing in his arms several Indiangarments.

  "Will put him on, and me fix things," said he, throwing them downbeside me. I hastily donned them, understanding fully their use andintentions.

  "Keep close, and don't say nothing to nobody," he added, as theyenveloped my person.

  He now turned his face towards the village, and we were soon wendingour way through it. We passed several savages who spoke to me, Jimhowever taking the responsibility of replying. At last we reached hislodge without my identity being discovered. This was at the extremeeastern end of the village, and as we entered I saw it was devoid ofany persons except ourselves.

  "You sleep there, Will," said he, pointing to one corner, where abuffalo robe was visible by the dim light of a few smoldering embers.I repaired to the spot, thanking him for his kindly offer, and laydown, while he replenished the fire, seating himself by it, andcommenced the never-ceasing pleasure of examining his revolver.

  Lying half asleep on the buffalo robe, listlessly gazing at thesavage, his features all at once struck me. I had seen them before,but where I could not recollect. Let me see--ah! it was plain now. Hewas one of the occupants of the mysterious canoe!

  It soon became known throughout the Indian village that a white manwas a captive among them, and the next morning the entrance to Jim'slodge was thronged with hundreds anxious to get a peep at me. Knowingthat this curiosity must be gratified sooner or later, I steppedboldly forth, and mingled among them, in order to have the matterfinished at once. No violence was offered me, although several pinchedmy arms rather severely, seemingly determined to be satisfied upon allmy points.

  My Indian friend Jim was married, and, in the course of the day, hissquaw made her appearance. She was a middle-aged woman, and tolerablygood-looking for a savage. Jim informed her that I was to be herslave, and thus it may be said I was established in winter-quarters.

  The heavy storm referred to in the previous chapter, was the close ofthe warm season, and the fierce northern winter commenced setting in.Winter in the northwest is far different from that season in theMiddle States. It is full six months in continuance, and such is theintense coldness for the greater part of the season, that thethermometer sinks to thirty and often forty degrees below zero. Twoweeks after my capture, it seemed impossible to prevent freezing todeath in the lodge with a roaring fire a few feet off. Yet the savagesminded it hardly at all. A few extra garments were added to theircostume, and they flitted as incessantly through the village as ever.

  In the tribe it was acknowledged that I was the property of Jim, andthus my lot was much more endurable than otherwise. He was really agood-hearted Indian, I believe; and the course that I ever maintainedtoward him won some of his regard. However, he was a lazy dog, likeall of his male kindred, and, although I had an exalted opinion ofhim, it was impossible to discover in him any of those poeticalattributes which are so generally conceded to the North AmericanIndian. In conversation with me, he discarded entirely thoseextravagant, highly-wrought figures of speech common to his kindred,and added in their place an awkward oath or two, and a phrase learnedfrom the Hudson-Bay traders. The greater part of the day he sat beforehis fire, smoking and gazing moodily into it, while his better-halfbusied herself about the apartment as willingly and contentedly asthough she never dreamed of a different lot. Of course, I assisted heras much as lay within my power, and came at last to do all of theout-door work.

  I have always regarded my capture by this tribe of Indians as afortunate circumstance. I cannot imagine how else I could havemaintained life through the unusually severe winter which followed. Nomortal hand could have saved me from perishing from cold, while itwould have been utterly impossible to have procured food, when thesnow lay six feet upon the ground, and the rivers were sealed by greatdepths of ice. Although frequent occasions presented themselves, Idetermined to make no effort to leave my captors until the spring hadarrived.

  As mentioned, I had pretty well-defined suspicions that Jim was one ofthe savages who occupied the mysterious canoe, referred to in thepreceding chapters. I was not positive of this, although, when Istood by his side and viewed his profile, the resemblance seemedperfect.

  One great disappointment had already come. I was sure that I shouldlearn something either of Nat, or of the fair, mysterious captive.When I questioned Jim, he answered with such apparent sincerity andtruth, that I was pretty well convinced he knew nothing of either. Inregard to the latter he laughed; the former he merely shook his head;he knew nothing of either. Sometimes when I fell into a deep reverie,and suddenly awoke, I could see Jim lift his eyes quickly from me, asthough he had been endeavoring to satisfy himself of my identity. Hequestioned me artfully, and I told him all. At last, I resolved to putthe question direct.

  "Jim, didn't you and another warrior, some weeks ago, pass down theriver, some distance south, with a white woman?"

  There was a perceptible start at this question, but he answeredpromptly:

  "Don't know nothing 'bout 'em."

  "Why, I was pretty sure that I saw you."

  He shook his head.

  There was nothing to be gained by further questioning, and I gave itup. But I was satisfied he knew more of Nat and the sweet captivethan he was willing to tell--and I was not mistaken.

  Shortly after this conversation, Jim told me that he and several ofhis tribe were in the employ of the Hudson Bay Fur Company, and tradednumerous furs with them every spring. I asked him whether he was notin the territory of the Northwest Fur Company. He replied that thatmade no difference; each trespassed upon the other's grounds, and hehad been engaged for both.[2]

  [2] The Hudson Bay Company, established two hundred years ago, by Prince Rupert, divided its territory into four compartments--the Northern, including all the country of the Far North; the Southern, extending south to Lake Superior; the Montreal, including the country along the northern shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence; and the Columbia Department, comprehending all the country west of the Rocky Mountains, including Oregon, in which, I believe, they still trade.

  A few weeks subsequent to this, there came
a storm which laid the snowsix feet deep, and Jim informed me that, in company with severalothers, he should proceed to set his traps for the winter's work, andhe willingly consented that I should accompany him. Preparations wereaccordingly made. Extra garments were donned, a couple of traps takenby each, and, placing our snow-shoes upon our feet, we sallied forth.This was the first time I ever attempted to travel with snow-shoes,and, as may be supposed, I made awkward work of it. These were fullysix feet in length, resembling a canoe somewhat in shape, and ofextreme lightness. The interior is filled with a gauzy network, whichallows the light, sand-like snow to fall through without impedingone's progress. They are fastened loosely but securely to the feet,and when the snow is not dampened by thaws, twenty miles can be easilymade in a day. Without these convenient things, it would be next toimpossible to travel during six months of the year in the fur-bearingregions.

  We proceeded westward some eight or ten miles before all of the trapswere set, when, turning, we retraced our steps, intending to visitthem the following night. The trap used by the Indians of this sectionis much the same as the common steel-trap of the States, being,however, much larger, and without the saw-like teeth of the latter. Along chain, with a heavy stone attached, is fastened to the trap, andconcealed beneath the snow, to prevent the animal making off with thewhole concern. The trap is placed just beneath the surface of thesnow, and bits of frozen fish are scattered around, which attract thehalf-starved foxes, lynx, beavers, and wolves in the region. Havingcompleted all arrangements, we retraced our steps, and reached thevillage just as night was setting in.

  Nothing of note took place the next day, and, as the night came on,Jim informed me that they were going to visit their traps to ascertainwhat luck they had. As he made no objection, I again donned mysnow-shoes and joined them. There was but one savage beside himself.The snow was crisp and fine, and the traveling comparatively easy. Jimdragged a small sled behind him for the purpose of bringing backanything found in the traps.

  It was a bright moonlight night, and as we journeyed through theforest, there were patches of snow almost as light as day. We shunnedthe trees, as the snow-crust was brittle around them, and once ortwice crossed broad belts of snow, devoid of timber, which Jiminformed me were the beds of rivers. As we traveled on, nothing brokethe silence, except the muffled sliding of our shoes over the icycrust, or a single word from one of the savages; and it occurred to methat if my friends at home could have seen me at this particularmoment, they would have imagined I was searching for gold in a strangecountry.

  The first trap we reached had the _fore-leg_ of a fox in it only. Ilooked at Jim inquiringly, unable to understand what it meant.

  "He gnawed him off, and run away; look out next time."

  The fox had been caught by his fore-leg, and, finding himself unableto get loose, had eaten off the imprisoned limb and escaped on theothers. In a month's time he would probably suffer no inconveniencefrom it. In the next trap was found a red fox, whose fur bears but atrifling value. He was killed, placed upon the sled, the trap reset,and we proceeded to the rest. None of them had been visited, exceptthe last. In this was imprisoned a beautiful black fox, the capture ofwhich nearly set the two savages into ecstasies. The fur, of thisanimal is more valuable than that of any other caught by the trappers,one alone sometimes bringing as high as two hundred dollars. It is sorarely captured, and such a prize, when taken, that a hunter would besatisfied with one single animal during the whole season.

  Our two animals being secured upon our sled, and the traps carefullyreset, we commenced our return journey. The night was far advancedwhen we reached the Indian village. As we entered our lodge, Jim'ssquaw arose noiselessly and replenished the fire. While removing mysnow-shoes, I remarked to Jim that my feet had felt for the last houror two as though they were asleep.

  "Let me see him," he asked quickly, jerking off the thick moccasinswhich I had donned a few weeks back. He looked at my feet a moment,and then exclaimed, "By dam, him froze up!"

  I was considerably startled at this, and anxiously asked him if theywere badly frozen.

  "Yaw, but me fix em," he answered, and commenced immediately rubbinguntil I begged him to desist. He paid no heed to my entreaties, butcontinued this treatment until he had restored completely thecongealed circulation, and saved the useful members.

  The savages had but poor fortune in trapping this winter, and therewas considerable suffering. The Indians of the northwest rely solelyupon what they are able thus to take, for their food during the coldseason; and, as there is generally plenty of game, they fare well. Butnow and then some unaccountable cause drives all the animals away, andcases of actual starvation have occurred. Jim told me that threewinters before a case of cannibalism had occurred in their tribe, andyears before that, when a mere child, there came an appalling time.Half the families were obliged to devour some of their members tosupport life until spring, and, for over a week, an old, miserablebison supported the whole tribe. Jim said he had more than once cookedhis moccasins and eaten them.

  The tribe was driven to no such extremity as this while I was withthem, and I saw no want myself. Jim was one of their best hunters andhe supplied his own lodge before that of others. Yet, there wereothers who were not so fortunate, and who were often compelled toendure the pangs of hunger for days at a time. When food was secured,they gorged themselves nearly to bursting, and were the happiest ofmortals, until the wants of nature again made themselves felt.

  I could write far more of my experience with this tribe of Indians;but I feel it would be hardly in place here, as there are othercharacters in this narrative who must claim notice. My aim has beenonly to dwell long enough upon particulars, for an understanding ofthe events that follow. During my captivity, several things occurredto make me suspect that the mysterious captive referred to was in thisvillage the whole time, and I was satisfied that the Indian Jim knewmore of Nat than he would impart to me. These imaginings filled mewith moody misgivings, and I made a resolve that as soon as springcame I would make my escape; and if I could learn nothing of the twobeings whose fate was unknown to me, depart for the States. The lifeI was leading was a wearisome, monotonous one, and in time wouldbecome unbearable. Spring was but a month or two distant, and in itsapproach I placed my fondest hopes; but it was doomed to open anexperience in my life of which I little dreamed.