The Life and Adventures of James P Beckwourth

by James P Beckwourth

  When we reached the As-ne-boine for the third time, we found that our friends who had accommodated us with the two previous droves of horses had gone over the mountain, and passed down that river to Fort Row, one of the Hudson’s Bay trading-posts. By the appearance of their trail we judged that they had been joined by other villages, probably from the Coutnees and Pa-gans, all on their way to the trading-post for the purchase of their spring supply of goods. We followed their trail for several days, which grew fresher and fresher, until one afternoon we came suddenly upon a horse. We were at that time in thick timber, with a dense growth of underbrush, and thousands of wild pea-vines about.

  On seeing the horse we halted suddenly. On looking farther around, we discovered horses of all colors and stripes, ring-streaked and speckled. Shortly the sound of voices reached our ears. In an instant we stooped down and crept under the almost impenetrable vines, nor did we venture to move from our hiding-place until night. We could distinctly hear the chatter of men, women, and children around us, and some of the squaws came most dangerously near when gathering fire-wood for their camp-fires. We could occasionally peep out, and we saw in those glimpses that they had beautiful horses, and, besides, that they were in good traveling condition. We then felt no doubt that the Coutnees were in company, since they always prided themselves in spotted horses, as Jacob of old took pride in spotted cattle. In that encampment it so little entered into their heads to anticipate molestation that they had placed no horse-guards to keep watch.

  The noise of the horses in tearing through the pea-vines assisted us materially in our nocturnal enterprise. We selected two hundred and eighty of their largest, strongest, and handsomest cattle, with which we lost no time in making direct for Crow-land; nor did we venture to give rest to their hoofs until a journey, continued through three days and nights, placed what we considered a safe distance between us. We then ventured to encamp for the night, to afford to the poor tired-out animals an opportunity to rest for a while, but starting off at early dawn to preclude all possibility of recapture.

  On the fifth day we discovered an Indian a short distance from our trail, who was coming in an oblique direction toward us. He stopped on the hill-side at some little distance off, and motioned for us to approach him. Supposing him to be a Crow, I desired my companions to drive on, while I went to see what he wanted. When I had approached within a few yards of him, he put on an air of surprise, and placed his hand to his shoulder with the intention of drawing his bow. I sprang upon him instantly and cut him down, and despoiled him of his scalp and quiver. When about to leave to overtake my companions, I perceived the distant smoke of a Black Foot village situated immediately in the direction that we were journeying, and it was beyond doubt that the Indian I had just killed was a spy belonging to that village. He must have mistaken us for some of his own tribe, and only discovered his mistake when I approached near enough for him to distinguish my features.

  My companions returning to me, we altered our course, and passed over a mountain covered with deep snow, so hard, however, that we passed it without losing a horse. This was one of the spurs of the Rocky Mountains, and covered with perpetual snows.

  After sixteen days of almost incessant travel day and night, we came in sight of our village just as the sun was sinking behind the distant mountains. We approached within a mile of the village, and encamped under a small hill, as yet unperceived by our people, for the hill in the shelter of which we lay was between ourselves and the village. It was now the latter end of June (I think), in the year 1834.

  After resting a while, I thought to get some tobacco, to indulge in a smoke before making our grand entreé, at the same time requesting my companions to keep a sharp look-out, and see that the Crows did not steal our horses again. Finally, three of us entered incog., and smoked with several of the old men, not one of whom recognized us or once thought of us. We passed all through the village, looking leisurely about us; the streets were full of people, yet not one bestowed a thought on us. When it became somewhat late, and the inhabitants had principally retired, I dismissed my two companions to the camp, telling them I would get some tobacco, and rejoin them in a short time. I then entered the lodge of one of my wives, who was asleep in bed. I shook her by the arm, and aroused her.

  Waking, she inquired, “Who is this in the lodge?”

  I answered, “It is your husband.”

  “I never had but one husband,” she replied, “and he is dead.”

  “No,” said I, “I am he.”

  “You are not dead, then, as we have believed?”

  “No,” I said; “I have been wandering a long while, and have only just returned.”

  “We all mourned you,” she continued, “many moons ago, and we all mourn you now every day. We believed that the enemy had killed you.”

  “No,” I said, “I escaped. I have now brought home a large drove of beautiful spotted horses, and if you will do as I wish you, you shall have your choice of the whole drove, and you will become a medicine woman also.”

  “I will do what you wish me,” she replied. “Well, I want you, when you get up in the morning, to request the village to refrain from crying for one sun. Tell them that you dreamed that I came home riding a large and spotted horse, having the other four men with me; that we had nearly three hundred of the most beautiful horses you ever saw, and that we rode with large wolf-skins spread on our horses’ backs, mine being as white as the drifted snow.”

  She agreed to do all as I had bidden her; I then left her lodge; but, before quitting the village, I called in at my father’s lodge. All was still around, and, entering on tip-toe, I reached down the medicine shield, which no one but his wife or eldest son is privileged to handle, and, opening it, I took out all his medicine tobacco, carrying it back to the camp with me, and then replaced the shield upon its peg. I then returned to our camp, and enjoyed a good smoke with my companions, our spirits waxing elate at the surprise we had in store.

  Early the next morning, the woman, true to her word, narrated her dream to the astonished inhabitants, with whatever additions her own fancy suggested. My father and mother listened attentively to her revelation; and, before she had got through with her narrative, she had quite a numerous auditory. We were watching the occurrence from the brow of the hill; and, knowing she would have to rehearse her vision several times before it was generally known throughout the village, we did not hurry to show ourselves.

  My father and mother, having heard her through, turned and entered their lodge. Suddenly the medicine shield caught my mother’s eye-it had evidently been moved. My father took it down and opened it — the tobacco was gone. This opened the —old gentleman’s eyes. “It is well,” he said; “my son lives!” and he believed the substance of the dream as fervently as the prophetess who uttered it. The bystanders, seeing his medicine so strong, and he beginning to sing and dance, they all joined in, until the noise of their revelry reached us on our distant eminence.

  Now was our time. We mounted our caparisoned steeds, and, forming ourselves in procession, we commenced our grand entreé, singing and shouting at the top of our voices. Our tones are heard, and the villagers gaze around in surprise. “Hark!” they exclaimed; “look yonder! there are five men mounted on large spotted steeds. Who are they?”

  All was hushed as the grave in the village, each striving to catch the sound of our distant strains. The five horsemen disappeared as if by magic, and reappeared driving a large drove of horses before them of all colors. The horsemen again pause on the summit.

  “Hark! listen! they sing again! Who can they be?”

  Not a soul yet stirred from the village. We drove our horses down toward them, and left them there, while we took a circuit around, displaying our scalps, but still keeping over gunshot distance. The old men came out to us, carrying drums; each of us took one, and then we bounded away to the rear of our horses. We raised a well-known song, and all listened to the tones of the returning Medicine Calf. At length our
wives and relatives broke away from the throng, and darted over the plain to meet us. They fairly flew over the intervening space to welcome us in their arms. A tall sister of mine outstripped the rest, and arrived first, and immediately after my little wife was also by my side. After a warm greeting exchanged with these, the warriors came up, and saluted us with a shout that would have aroused Napoleon’s Old Guard from their graves. We were lifted from our horses, and almost denuded of our clothing, and carried by the impetuous throng into the village. My father had painted his face into an exact resemblance of Satan, in token of his joy at my happy return. I was kissed and caressed by my mother, sisters, and wives until I fairly gasped for breath.

  Any person who has never beheld a real downright rejoicing among savages can form but a faint conception of their unrestrained manifestations; words can convey no adequate idea of it. Being untutored and natural, and not restricted by any considerations of grace or propriety, they abandon themselves to their emotions, and no gesture is too exaggerated, no demonstration too violent for them to resort to.

  My friend, with many others, had given me up for dead, and had adopted another in my place; so that there were now three of us who all knew one another’s secrets. Pine Leaf was overjoyed at my return.

  She had become confident of my death, and was only waiting to ascertain the nation that had killed me in order to revenge my loss, or be sacrificed to my manes. Couriers were immediately dispatched to the other village to acquaint them with our return, and to invite them to participate in the celebrations of the event. Long Hair returned for answer, “Tell my brother I will fly to see him.” They lost six warriors on their way to our village, through carelessly straggling in detached parties, consequently they came to us in mourning for their loss.

  The two droves of horses which the Crows had released us of were all religiously returned. Those that the captors had given away were promptly delivered up, so that we were now in possession of a very numerous drove. I distributed my share among my relatives, friends, wives, and wives’ relatives, until I had only just enough for my own use. I gave my father an elegant steed, the largest in the whole drove. To the heroine I gave a spotted four-year-old, a perfect beauty, one that I had intended for her as we were driving them home. He proved to be a superior warhorse, and there were but few among the thousands that we possessed that could distance him with her upon his back. She was very proud of him, and would suffer no one but herself to ride him.

  It took me a long time to rehearse all our adventures while away. I was required to do it very minutely and circumstantially — even to describe all our camping-grounds, and relate every minute occurrence that transpired during our long pilgrimage.

  We had certainly incurred exceeding risk in the route we had traveled; in recurring to it I marveled at our escape. Any five men might start upon such an adventure, and not one party in ten would ever return. I reflected, however, that I was a little more sagacious than the Indians, and that I had my physical faculties as well developed as theirs. I could see fully as quick as they could, and ride as fast, if they undertook to chase me in the mountains.

  I now found that I had thousands of friends, whether attracted by my fancy horses or not, and that I was the idol of my proud parents. The mother of Black Panther always lived with my father, and if both survive, I presume she does to this day. I gave him the child when it was quite young, to adopt as his son, in obedience to his reiterated solicitations.

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  Excursion to the Fort.—Great Battle with the Cheyennes on the Way. —Rejoicing on my Arrival at the Fort. —Horses stolen by the Cheyennes. —Pursuit and Battle with the Thieves. —Battle with the Black Feet. —Return to our Village.

  WHEN the rejoicings were over, a council was called to deliberate on the future operations of the nation, wherein the resolution was taken to keep united until Leaf Fall. About the latter end of August I started for the fort, taking with me three hundred and fifty warriors, with as many women and children, among whom was my little wife. While on our way thither, we encamped one night on Fallen Creek, and lost upward of fifty horses, stolen by the Cheyennes. We pursued them with our whole force, and, soon overtaking them, a fight ensued between numbers about equal. I had charged in advance of the line, and, as I was always dressed in full costume when on these excursions, I offered an excellent mark to any one skilled in shooting. I was proceeding at an easy canter, when my horse was shot through the head, the ball entering near the ear, and he fell, his last spring hurling me head foremost against a huge rock, which I struck with such force that I saw another dense meteoric shower, and the blood gushed from my mouth, nose, and ears. When I recovered my senses I found both parties over me, each struggling to obtain me. The Crows prevailed eventually, and my scalp was saved. My warriors were fully convinced of my death, as I lay so long motionless; but they were determined to preserve my scalp. The enemy, seeing our women and children approach, mistook them for a re-enforcement of Crow warriors, and they gave up the contest and fled precipitately, leaving us masters of the field, with all the horses they had just stolen from us, besides a great number of their own, which they had not time to drive off. We only obtained three scalps from the enemy, losing none ourselves, though we had several warriors wounded.

  We then resumed our journey to the fort, reaching there without farther trouble. When we arrived within sight and hearing, we, as usual, struck up a song. All the women from the fort ran out, exclaiming, “Here comes a war-party of the Crows; they are singing! Look at their scalps: they come from the country of the Cheyennes; they have conquered our enemies. See, they are all painted!”

  I had long been supposed dead at the fort. It was conjectured that Big Bowl (my father) had the conduct of the party, and there was no inquiry made for me. We entered amid a thousand How d’ye do’s, and my wife and “Little Jim” were comfortably provided with the best quarters in the fort. I was standing among the busy throng, who had already fallen to admire the new goods, still feeling the effects of my severe shake, when I saw one of the female inmates eye me very inquiringly. She inquired of my wife who that Indian was. She answered, “He is my husband.”

  “What! are you married again?” the woman exclaimed, in astonishment.

  “No, not again,” she replied, in her very modest manner; “did you not know that the Medicine Calf was alive and had returned?”

  “Then that surely is the Medicine Calf,” the woman exclaimed, “now standing in the fort!” and ran to Mr. Tulleck to acquaint him with the news.

  “Where is he? where is the Medicine Calf?”, Mr. Tulleck called aloud, and looking among the throng without perceiving me.

  I addressed him in English, calling him by name. I thought at first that he would fall to the ground; it was some seconds before he could speak, his astonishment was so overwhelming. At last he found tongue, and broke out in all kinds of expressions of joy and welcome. The men, too, attached to the fort, on hearing of my arrival, came running in with their utmost speed to welcome one whom they had all long since supposed dead. So heartfelt a welcome I could not have expected. Little Jim had been taken from his mother’s hand before it was known that I was present. He was a general pet at the fort, and it usually took one good horse to carry all the presents bestowed upon mother and child. He was then near three years old, running everywhere, and was already looked upon by the Crows as their future chief.

  We tarried at the fort a few days, engaged in hunting buffalo for its men and our own family. Our consumption was several carcasses a day. During my long absence the Crows had neglected their traps, and they had not dressed more than half the usual number of robes, which caused a sensible falling off in the trade of the fort, and diminished very materially the profits derived by the company from Fort Cass. No reduction, however, was made in my salary on account of my absence, which I considered very liberal conduct on the part of the company.

  My warriors, becoming uneasy at their inactive life, desired to be led a
gainst the Black Feet. To gratify them, I selected one hundred and six warriors, and sent the others back to the village with the women and children, except my wife, whom I requested to stay at the fort to await my return. We marched into the enemy’s country, and in the daytime came suddenly upon one of their villages. There were lodges enough to contain three hundred warriors, but they were probably gone upon an expedition, for there were but few present to receive us. We unhesitatingly assaulted it, although we had but little fighting to do. We took upward of twenty scalps, and eighteen women and children prisoners. We captured two hundred and sixty horses, besides weapons, clothing, and other spoils. Here I succeeded in having a good joke at the heroine’s expense, with which I plagued her for a long time. She was swifter on foot than any warrior, and we were on foot during this excursion. On seeing us advance, a young Indian, about sixteen, took to his heels, running like a deer. The heroine made after him with her antelope speed, certain to catch him. The Indian did his best, frequently turning his head, like a negro with an alligator at his heels. Seeing that his pursuer must overtake him, and not relishing the idea of having her lance transfix his body — for she was preparing to hurl it — he suddenly stopped and faced about, at the same time throwing his bow down and holding up both hands to beg for his life. She did what no other warrior in our party would have done — her woman’s heart took pity on the poor fellow’s pitiable condition — she spared his life, and marched him back captive.

  He being her prisoner, no one had authority over his life but herself. He was a fine-looking young man, but when he was brought among the Crow warriors he trembled in every joint, expecting nothing less than to be killed.

  I thought this too good an opportunity for a joke not to make use of it.