IN case any captious “elders of the congregation” had been inclined to throw the blame of my recent disaster upon my shoulders, I was provided with a sufficient portent to screen me from consequences. After quitting the fort on our way to Little Box Elder (as before related), and while exhausting all my powers of persuasion to induce Mr. Hunter to return, we observed a remarkable meteoric shower, which filled us all (more particularly my followers) with wonder and admiration. This was at our first encampment after leaving the fort in the latter end of October, 1832. Although my warriors were ready to face death in any form, this singular phenomenon appalled them. It was the wrath of the Great Spirit showered visibly upon them, and they looked to me, in quality of medicine chief, to interpret the wonder. I was as much struck with the prodigious occurrence, and was equally at a loss with my untutored followers to account for the spectacle. Evidently I must augur some result therefrom, and my dejected spirits did not prompt me to deduce a very encouraging one. I thought of all the impostures that are practiced upon the credulous, and my imagination suggested some brilliant figures to my mind. I thought of declaring to them that the Great Spirit was pleased with our expedition, and was lighting us on our way with spirit lamps; or that these meteors were the spirits of our departed braves, coming to assist us in our forthcoming fight. But I was not sanguine enough to indulge in any attractive oratory. I merely informed them I had not time to consult my medicine, but that on our return to the village I would interpret the miracle to them in full.
On our arrival, I found the people’s minds still agitated with the prodigy. All were speaking of it in wonder and amazement, and my opinion was demanded respecting the consequences it portended. Admonished by my defeat, I had no trouble in reading the stars. I informed them that our people had evidently offended the Great Spirit; that it was because of his wrath I had suffered defeat in my excursion, and returned with the loss of twenty-three warriors. I thence inferred that a sacrifice must be made to appease the wrath of the Great Spirit, and recommended that a solemn assembly be convened, and a national oblation offered up.
I was fully confident that by thus countenancing such pagan superstitions I was doing very wrong, but, like many a more prominent statesman in civilized governments, I had found that I must go with the current, and I recommended a measure, not because it was of a nature to benefit the country, but simply because it was popular with the mass.
The camp in which we then were was a mourning-camp, in which medicine would have no effect. Therefore we moved to Sulphur River, ten miles distant, in order to offer up our sacrifice. All the leading men and braves assembled, and I was consulted as to the kind of offering proper to make for the purpose of averting the wrath that was consuming us. I ordered them to bring the great medicine kettle, which was of brass, and capable of holding ten gallons, and was purchased at a cost of twenty fine robes, and to polish it as bright as the sun’s face. This done, I ordered them to throw in all their most costly and most highly-prized trinkets, and whatsoever they cherished the most dearly. It was soon filled with their choicest treasures. Keepsakes, fancy work on which months of incessant and patient toil had been expended, trinkets, jewels, rings so highly prized by them that the costliest gems of emperors seemed poor by their side — all these were thrown into the kettle, along with a bountiful contribution of fingers, until it would hold no more. I then had weights attached to it, and had it carried to an air-hole in the ice where the river was very deep, and there it was sunk with becoming ceremony. Three young maidens, habited like May queens, carried the burden.
This great sacrifice completed, the minds of the people were relieved, and the result of the next war-party was anxiously looked forward to to see if our oblation was accepted. Their crying, however, continued unabated, so much to the derangement of my nervous system that I was fain to retire from the village and seek some less dolorous companionship. My bosom friend and myself therefore started off unnoticed, and traveled on without stopping until we came to a hill some seven or eight miles distant. He was pre-eminently a great brave, at all times self-possessed and unobtrusive. I always considered him as endowed with the most solid sense, and possessing the clearest views of any Indian in the nation. His spirits were generally somewhat dejected, but that I attributed to the loss of all his relatives. When I wished to enjoy a little converse or sober meditation, he always was my chosen companion, as there were qualities in his character which interested me and assimilated with my own. He never craved popularity, never envied the elevation of others, but seemed rather to rejoice at another person’s success. He would listen to me for an entire day when I spoke of my residence with the whites, and told of their great battles, where thousands were slain on both sides; when I described their ships carrying immense guns capable of sweeping hundreds of men away at a discharge; and when I depicted to him their forts, to which our forts for size or strength were but as ant-hills. I then would tell him of the great Atlantic Ocean, and the millions of white men living beyond it; of countries where there was no summer, and others where there was no winter, and a thousand other marvels, of which I never spoke to other warriors, as their minds were too limited to comprehend me.
After listening to me with the deepest attention until I would grow tired of talking, he would seem to be perfectly amazed, and would be lost in a deep reverie for some time, as though endeavoring to raise his ideas to a level with the vast matters he had been listening to. Occasionally he would tell me of the traditions handed down from generation to generation in the Indian race, in which he was “elegantly learned.” He told me of the mighty tribes of men who had once inhabited this vast continent, but were now exterminated by internecine wars; that their fathers had told them of a great flood, which had covered all the land, except the highest peaks of the mountains, where some of the inhabitants and the buffaloes resorted, and saved themselves from destruction.
We were on a hill, as before mentioned, some seven or eight miles from the village, engaged in one of these long cosmographical discussions, when my companion, chancing to turn his head, descried some object at a great distance. Pointing it out to me with his finger, “There is a people,” he exclaimed. I looked in the direction indicated, and saw a small party of Black Feet approaching.
“Sit still,” said I, “and let us see where they encamp; we will have every one of them to-night.” We watched them until they halted at a couple of small Indian forts, with which the country abounds, and we saw they were soon joined by four or five others who came from another direction, and who were evidently scouts. From the direction which they came, I saw they had not discovered our village.
“Now,” said I, “let us return; we will have that party. We will collect a few trusty warriors, and not mention our discovery to a living soul, not even telling our warriors the errand we are upon until we get within sight of the camp-fires of the enemy. Then we will return with their scalps, and put an end to this howling that deafens my ears.”
We started on our way to the village. I desired him to select from his friends, and I would assemble my own.
“No,” said he, “my friends are fools. I don’t want them. But you collect your warriors, and I will be one of them.”
Accordingly, I went to my father, and desired him to send for about seventy-five of my brothers and relatives, and tell them the Medicine Calf wished to see them; but I charged him not to tell them they were going away from the village. As they mustered one at a time, I acquainted them that I wanted them to leave the village singly and with the utmost secrecy, to meet me with their guns and battle-axes at a certain hour and in such a place, and in the meantime to answer no word to whatever question might be asked them.
At the appointed hour I repaired to the post, and found them all in readiness. I then marched them to the place of attack. When we arrived within sight of our foes we found them all very merry; they were singing the Wolf Song, or Song of the Spies, they having no suspicion that they were so near to the Crow village. We w
ent cautiously up to the forts, which were but a few yards apart; and while they were yet singing we pointed our guns, and, at a signal given by me, all fired. The whole party were slain; their notes were cut short in death. Taking their scalps (nineteen in number) and guns, we reached our village by daylight, and entered it singing, dancing, and shouting.
The village was aroused, and men, women, and children came running from all directions to learn the cause of the disturbance. We displayed our nineteen scalps, and I took to myself full credit for the force of my medicine in divining where to find the foe, and cognizance was taken of the fact in the medicine lodge. We had five days’ dancing to do full justice to this brilliant achievement, and I had become so tired of their continual mourning that their savage yells of delight seemed quite a luxury.
One night a party of Black Feet came to borrow some of our horses, and happened to be caught in the fact. The alarm was given, the marauders fired upon, and one of them had his leg broken by a ball. He was found the next morning, unable to get away; but he sat up and defended himself until he had shot his last arrow. He was then brought into the village, and it was decided to burn him. A large fire was built, which was surrounded by hundreds, and when the fire was well burnt up the poor fellow was thrown in. This was the first act of the kind I had ever known the Crows to commit; but there was no preventing it. It is an appalling sight to behold a human being, or even an inferior animal, perish in the flames; I trust my eyes may never witness such another scene. To see the writhing agony of the suffering wretch when cast into the darting flames, and hear his piercing shrieks as the blaze gradually envelops his whole body, until the life is scorched out of the victim, and he falls prostrate among the logs, soon to become a charred mass of cinders undistinguishable from the element that consumed it — it is indeed a sight only fit for savages to look at.
I learned this one truth while I was with the Indians, namely, that a white man can easily become an Indian, but that an Indian could never become a white man. Some of the very worst savages I ever saw in the Rocky Mountains were white men, and I could mention their names and expose some of their deeds, but they have most probably gone to their final account before this.
Our village now moved on toward the fort to purchase our spring supplies. Both villages could only raise forty packs of beaver and nineteen hundred packs of robes; but for their continual wars, they could as easily have had ten packs for one. But it is impossible to confine an Indian to a steady pursuit — not even fighting; after awhile he will even tire of that. It is impossible to control his wayward impulses; application to profitable industry is foreign to his nature. He is a vagrant, and he must wander; he has no associations to attach him to one spot; he has no engendered habits of thrift or productiveness to give him a constant aim or concentration of purpose.
Both villages at length assembled at the new fort, and our spring trading was briskly entered into. We rested for over a week, and I then proposed moving, as the time was approaching for our building a new medicine lodge. The night preceding our proposed departure, thieves were discovered among our horses; the alarm was given, and a party went in pursuit. They returned with six Sioux scalps, and two of our own men wounded. The remainder of the rascals succeeded in getting away with sixteen of our animals, we not considering them worth following after.
We then postponed our departure four days, and devoted ourselves to noise and festivity. The welkin rung with our shouts, and the fort shook with the thunder of our earthquake step.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Removal to our Tobacco-ground.—Expedition to the Arrap-a-hos for Horses.—Discovered, and the Party scattered.—Wanderings for fourteen Months.—Return at last amid tremendous Rejoicing.
WE left the fort, and proceeded toward our tobacco-ground. We planted the seed, and spent a short time in festivity. It was deemed inexpedient to build a medicine lodge this season, as all the business could be transacted in a temporary one.
Our stock of horses being greatly diminished, we deemed this a fitting time to try and replenish it, and various small parties sallied out for that purpose. I left with only seventeen warriors for the country of the Arrap-a-hos, situated on the head-waters of the Arkansas. On arriving at their village we found a great number of horses, upon which we made a descent; but we were discovered before we could lay our hands on any, and had to scatter in all directions in our effort to escape. One of our party had his leg broken with a rifle ball, but he did not fall into the enemy’s hands, as he crawled away and secreted himself. Two months subsequently he found his way home, with his leg nearly healed. He stated that, after receiving his wound, he plunged into the river, which flowed close by, and swam to an island, there concealing himself in a thick brush. The enemy moved away the next day, and he swam back to their camping-ground, where he found an abundance of meat, which he carried over to his quarters; upon this he fared sumptuously until he was strong enough to walk; then he made his way home.
I saw the village move the next morning, and, gathering four of my scattered companions, I followed the enemy at a respectful distance until they encamped for the next night. We then made another descent upon their fold, and succeeded in obtaining each man a horse. We saw no more of the remains of our party until we returned to our village upward of a year subsequently.
We came to the resolution to quit the Arrap-a-hos, and pay the Snakes a visit. On reaching them we found horses in abundance, and could have levied upon them for any number; but, being at peace with the tribe, we contented ourselves with exchanging our jaded and foot-sore animals for five fresh ones from their drove. Here we dropped an arrow, and they recognized it for a Crow arrow readily; we also put on new moccasins, and left our old ones behind us. When the Snakes fell in with the Crows sometime after, they charged them with stealing their horses, which charge the Crows strenuously denied. The Snakes persisted, and, to confirm their accusation, produced the arrow and the abandoned moccasins. This satisfied the Crows that it must be some of the Arrap-a-ho expedition, and hopes of our safety were revived.
From the Snakes we passed on to the Flat Head territory, where we found thousands of horses, but felt ourselves under the same moral restrictions as with the Snakes. Accordingly, we merely exchanged again, and again left five pairs of moccasins. Subsequently they made the same charge against the Crows, and accused them of infringing the treaty. The Crows again pleaded innocence, and again the moccasins convicted them of their guilt. They, however, resorted to diplomatic finesse, and an appeal to arms was averted. Again their hopes were rekindled of seeing us once more.
We then took a notion to pay the Coutnees a flying visit, where we made another exchange. We could have taken all the horses we wanted, but, to get home with them, we must have taken a wide circuit, or have passed through the territory of two hostile nations. We next moved to the As-ne-boine River, which empties into Hudson’s Bay. Here we borrowed one hundred and fifty head of fine horses from the Blood Indians, and started on our way home. We arrived, without accident, at the Mussel Shell River, within one day’s ride of our own people, where we encamped, intending to reach home the next day; but that night the Crows swept away every horse we had, not even leaving us one for our own use. We must have slept very soundly during the night; indeed, we were all greatly fatigued, for we did not hear a single movement. In getting our horses, they glorified themselves over having made a glorious haul from the Black Feet.
Not liking to be foiled in our resolution to return home with a respectable accompaniment of horses, we retraced our steps to the As-ne-boine River, intending to start another drove. On our return we found our friends had left, and had crossed to the other side of the mountain. We followed on, but delayed so long on the western slope, that the heavy snow-storms now falling cut off all possibility of returning home before spring; therefore we built a comfortable lodge in what was called Sweet Mountain, in a cañon, where we could kill a buffalo every day, the skins of which, covered entirely over our lodge, made a ve
ry agreeable abode for the winter. We also killed several large wolves, and dressed their skins in the nicest manner. We likewise took three Black Foot scalps. The Indians whose horses we had been in pursuit of, after having roamed about considerably, had gone into winter quarters only twelve or fifteen miles distant; their smoke was visible from our lodge. On the return of spring we visited our neighbors’ camp, and selected one hundred and twenty head of such horses as we thought would stand the journey. We then returned over the mountain, and reached as far as the Judith in safety, which was within three days’ ride of the village. We were greatly fatigued, and halted to encamp for the night and rest our jaded horses. Again the Crows stripped us of every horse, leaving us on foot once more. Resolved not to be beat, we determined to try our luck a third time before we returned to our village. I told my four companions that my medicine promised me success, and that when we did eventually get home we should be able to see what amount of affection was felt toward us by our people, by ascertaining how much crying had been done for us.
I had no doubt we had been mourned as dead, for we had been absent above a year. During this time, we subsequently learned, there had been great mourning for us, and many had cut off their hair. My father, however, still persisted that I was alive, and would someday return, and he would allow none of his family to cut off their fingers for me. At the time the Flat Heads went in with their complaint, they were about to elect another chief to fill my place; but when they saw the five pairs of moccasins produced, they knew they must have had Crow wearers, and their hopes were revived of again seeing us, and the election ceremony was postponed. My father would have no steps taken toward filling my vacant place before the erection of the next medicine lodge. He said he did not know where his Calf had rambled, and it was his firm belief that in the course of time he would ramble home again.
The Life and Adventures of James P Beckwourth Page 26
