Jack the Young Explorer: A Boy's Experiances in the Unknown Northwest

by George Bird Grinnell

  CHAPTER III

  THE BLACKFOOT AGENCY

  The next morning they were early on their way, and by noon reached thehome of a Canadian Frenchman, formerly in the service of the AmericanFur Company, but now living on his little ranch on the Teton with hisIndian wife and a numerous brood of half-breed children.

  From here they kept on up-stream, until just before night they came toanother ranch, on the Pend d'Oreille coulee, where lived a man whom Hughand Joe both addressed as Froggy, also married to an Indian woman.

  Just before dark Jack was greatly interested in seeing a procession offive pin-tailed ducks walking solemnly from a little slough to thehouse. When they reached it the woman drove them into a little coopbuilt of short logs, and closing the door, fastened it with a pin.

  "Where did you get your ducks, Froggy?" asked Joe.

  "Oh," answered Froggy, "I found a nest out on the prairie at the edge ofthe slough and watched it until the young ones hatched and then got themand brought them in and raised them. I did have nine, but the coyotesand foxes got away with all but these five. Now I've got 'em trained sothat they come up every night, and I shut them up in the house wherethey'll be safe."

  Shortly after they had started next morning Jack asked Hugh somequestions about Froggy. It appeared that he had come into the countrytwelve or fifteen years before and had worked first as a laborer andafterward as a clerk for small individual traders.

  "They say," put in Joe, "that he has killed two or three men for theirmoney."

  "Yes," said Hugh, "I heard something about that, but nobody that evertalked to me about it really seemed to know anything."

  "No," said Joe, "I reckon they never could prove anything against him.Twice men who were traveling through the country and were supposed tohave money disappeared on this road and nobody ever knew what became ofthem. Each time Froggy said that they stopped at his house over nightand then started on in the morning, but they never were seen again."

  "Well," said Hugh, "we don't know anything about that."

  "Hugh," said Jack, "I've been a good deal in the Western country and I'mnot a pilgrim any longer, but isn't something going to happen to Froggysome of these days?"

  "Why, yes, son," said Hugh, "I reckon some day that somebody will up andkill Froggy, and then the country will be better off; but it isn't yourfuneral nor yet mine, and we don't want to mix up with things that don'tconcern us at all."

  "No, Hugh, of course, you're right, but it does seem as if the world andthe territory would be better off if Froggy did not live here."

  "Maybe, maybe," said Hugh, "but, as I say, it isn't your business noryet mine."

  That night they camped on Dupuyer Creek, and Hugh and Joe said thatto-morrow they would be at the agency.

  "Well," said Jack, "I'll be glad to get there. It's queer, isn't it, thenumber of times I've been up here and camped with these Piegans thatI've never seen their agency, the place which is really their home?"

  "Well," said Hugh, "it really has not been their home very long, onlysince the buffalo gave out. Before that they only came in once in awhile, but not long before they saw the last of the buffalo theGovernment sent out troops to bring them in and tell them that they muststay at the agency.

  "That's one reason, I reckon, that they starved, as Joe was telling usthe other night. If it hadn't been that the troops kept them there, Ibelieve they'd all have gone up north into Canada and have tried to makethe two other tribes, the Blackfeet and the Bloods, give them help. Idon't know what help they could have given them, because those people upthere must be just as poor as these down here. They all depended on thebuffalo and they had nothing else. None of them have any idea offarming, and of course none of them have any cattle."

  "But, Hugh," said Jack, "what are they going to do now? The buffalowon't come back; how are they going to live?"

  "Why," said Hugh, "the only way they can live is for the Government tosupport them, to send them out beef and flour and bacon. They've got tobe fed until they learn to do something for themselves, either to raisecrops or raise cattle, or get jobs as hands on the steamboats or ashands for the ranchmen; but, of course, there are not enough ranchmenin the country to hire even a small part of the able-bodied men amongthe Piegans."

  "Well," said Jack, "they have a pretty melancholy outlook, haven'tthey?"

  "They have, it's true," Hugh answered. "At the same time," he went on,"some of those men are pretty industrious and have a pretty good idea ofwork, if they only knew how, but as yet they don't know anything. Joesays though--you heard him the other night--that they were trying tolearn to farm, but this country up here is so cold that I don't thinkthey can ever do anything with crops. There are a few warm spots wherecrops might ripen, but they are very few."

  About noon the next day they drove down into the valley of a littlestream running from the west, and Joe stopped his horses so that theymight drink.

  "Well, friend," he said to Jack, "when we cross this creek we shall beon the reservation. The Indians have their camps and their cabins up anddown this stream, and from here on, wherever there is a creek, there wewill see the Indians camped. It is only about eight miles from here tothe Agency."

  Most of the way was uphill, however, and it was well on in the afternoonbefore the road passed over the high bluff, and at a distance they sawthe agency buildings. These looked gray and inconspicuous, set down inthe midst of a wide flat, through which flowed a stream bordered bywillows, with a few tall cottonwood trees. As they drew nearer, thebuildings seemed to Jack to increase in size, and presently they stoppedat the little one-story trading post, a hundred yards below the Agency,that now looked like rather an imposing edifice. From here Jack couldsee only the stockade, about sixteen feet in height and built ofcottonwood logs, which concealed all the Agency buildings behind itswalls.

  At the store they were warmly welcomed by Joe Bruce and his assistant,Mr. McGonigle. Bruce was, and long had been, one of the characters ofthe upper Missouri country. He was then only about thirty-six years old,smooth-shaven, keen-eyed, thin and wiry. Hugh had often spoken to Jackabout him and Jack looked at him with great interest. He was the son ofJames Bruce, who was an important figure in the fur trade of the UpperMissouri and long in charge of Fort Union at the junction of theMissouri and Yellowstone Rivers, and later of Fort McKenzie and FortBrule, not far from where Fort Benton was built later.

  Bruce's mother was a Mandan, and, as Jack learned a little later, livedwith her son at the Piegan agency.

  Mr. McGonigle was a Georgian, an old Confederate soldier who had comeWest "with the left wing of Price's army," as the saying used to be inMontana. Of the great number of Southerners that came into Montana in1862 and '63 it was said in joke that when Price's army was defeated inMissouri in the early part of the war, the left wing got separated fromthe others and started westward, and never stopped until it reached theRocky Mountains. Mr. McGonigle had spent some years as a prospector, butafter having made and lost several small fortunes, at last became atrader's clerk, which he had now been for many years.

  After a brief chat with Joe Bruce, arrangements were made to spreadtheir beds for a night or two in one of his empty buildings, and to liveat his mess until they started on their way again. Joe, whose peoplewere camped on another creek further to the northward, was to remain atthe Agency for two or three days, and then the whole party would startfor St. Mary's Lakes.

  While Hugh was talking with Bruce, Jack chatted for a while with Mr.McGonigle, but he was anxious to go up to the Agency and to get insidethat gray barrier of logs behind which were hidden many interestingpeople and things.

  Presently Hugh filled his pipe, and after lighting it, rose and said,"Well, son, let's go on up to the Agency and see the agent, and lookaround and see if we can meet any of our friends."

  "All right, Hugh, come on," said Jack, and they set out.

  They soon reached the stockade and entered the wide plank gate, whichwas still in good condition and bore signs of being frequen
tly used. Oneither side of the gate there were small log buildings, each with asmall window, which looked as if they had been built there for purposesof defense; probably, however, they were built only in imitation of thestore and warehouse buildings that formerly flanked the gates of all oldfur-trading posts. Once within the stockade, they could see the quartersfor the employees, a warehouse, a schoolhouse in which were gathered tenor fifteen children, and some other buildings; while in the center ofthe stockade stood the house occupied by the agent.

  In this house they found Major Allen, who welcomed them cordially, andin response to inquiries by Hugh told them something of the terribleconditions that he had found when he had reached there a year or morebefore and had first met his starving people. He talked with muchfeeling about their sufferings and the heroic way in which they hadborne them, and while he said nothing in definite terms about hispredecessor, what his words suggested made Jack's blood boil withindignation. Major Allen asked Hugh and the boys to stay at the Agencyas long as they liked, and said that he would like to have them see theIndians at work.

  When Hugh and Jack went up to the Agency the next morning they saw inthe field just below the stockade a number of Indians standing about ateam of horses, and as they drew nearer they could see that Major Allenwas giving instructions in the art of plowing to some of the people.When they reached the group, they were busy for some time shaking handswith old friends, whom they had known under far different circumstances,but after the first salutations all turned to watch the work.

  A half breed was driving the team hitched to a plow, and the agent wastrying to teach the Indians to hold the plow so as to turn a straightfurrow. It was new and not easy work for the red men. The handles of theplow jerked from side to side, the point either coming out of the groundor plunging so deeply into it that the man holding the handles was indanger of being thrown forward on his head. Then Major Allen would takethe plow and holding it steadily would cut a smooth furrow of evendepth.

  Old White Calf, the chief, was anxious to learn plowing. He took holdof the handles and, although at first the plow wobbled from side to sideand more than once one of the handles struck him viciously in the ribs,he cut a fair furrow for six or eight feet. Then, however, the point randeep into the ground, and the old man was thrown forward and nearly felldown. Meanwhile, the Indians who were looking on were making jocularremarks and poking fun at the man who happened to be plowing, buthe--after he had performed his small stint--had his revenge by makingfun of the next victim.

  After he had watched them for a little while and enjoyed the fun, Jackhad a chance to look on a scene picturesque and beautiful. The widevalley stretched before him with bluffs rising in terraces one afteranother, the bright green of the willows and cottonwoods marking thecourse of the stream; to the west the mountains with their clear-cutoutlines sharply defined against the blue sky; the gray stockade stoodnear at hand, and farther off the conical white lodges of the Piegans upand down the creek, with here and there a low log cabin. Outside thefence Indians passed to and fro, some of them on foot, others onhorseback, and their bright-colored blankets, beaded belts and knifesheaths gave life and color to the picture.

  For some time the work went on, and then the Major asked Hugh and Jackto come up to his house, where they talked over the Indians and the newproblems which they had to face.

  "It's interesting work looking after these people, but it'sdiscouraging, too," said Major Allen. "The Indians are willing to work,but they haven't any idea how to perform the tasks we set them, so thattheir efforts are ineffective, and they easily become discouraged. Theyhave never been used to handling horses hitched to wagons, and theydon't know at all what horses can do. They hitch these little ridingponies of theirs to a big wagon and then pile it up with much more of aload than the horses can haul, and whip up the team, which strains andtugs along for a short distance, but presently gives out, and the wagonhas to be unloaded or else another pair or two of horses must beattached to it.

  "The Indians are as willing as can be and they are not afraid of work,but they don't like to keep at it for a long time. They are absolutelyignorant of all farming matters and it will take them some time tolearn. Last summer some of them planted little gardens, but they treatedthem as children would. For example, they often dug up their potatoes tosee how fast they were growing, and as soon as they grew large enough toeat they tried to sell them, although if they had left them in theground they would have continued to grow for a month longer. Now thatthe Indians have teams and are beginning to learn something about how touse them, they drive up to the mountains and cut wood and haul it down,either to sell or to use themselves in winter. Some of them have builtgood log cabins in which they pass the winter, but of course in summerthey prefer to live in their lodges."

  "Well, Major," said Hugh, "you can hardly expect these Indians, who alltheir lives have been chasing buffalo, to take hold of work at once."

  "No," said the Major, "that can't be expected, and I don't look for it.I am very well satisfied with the way they have taken hold. They'rewilling and they seem honest."

  "Yes, I think so," said Hugh, "and from what I can hear they've had sucha hard time that I think they're really in earnest in their wish tolearn how to work."

  "Their loyalty," said the Major, "is one of the things that has struckme the most. The policemen are absolutely faithful. When I enlist them,I make them take an oath, explaining that everybody who serves theGovernment has to be sworn in, and that they must do as all the otherpublic servants. They take an oath which I like, though perhaps not avery ceremonial one; still they take it as if they meant it, and Ibelieve they do. Have you ever heard them make this oath, Mr. Johnson?"

  "No," said Hugh, "I don't reckon I have. I would like to hear it, and sowould son here. What is it?"

  "When they are sworn," said Major Allen, "they lift up the right handand, stretching it toward the sky, say, 'The sun is good,' and then,'The earth is good,' and bending down they touch the ground with thehand; and as they stand up again they say, 'I will obey the orders of mychief, that I may live long with my family.'

  "Now these policemen get only eight dollars a month; they're likely tobe called on at any time to ride any distance; they have to furnishtheir own horses, and yet they never, so far as I have heard, complain.They're a good lot of people, and I ask for nothing better than to stayhere and work with them, but I hope that I shall never have as bad atime as I had when they were starving during the first two or threemonths that I was here."

  "Yes," said Jack, "that must have been a terrible time."

  As they were walking down to the trader's store, Jack, who had been muchimpressed by Major Allen's talk about the Indians, said to Hugh, "Now,Hugh, what do you think will become of these Indians? Of course, thebuffalo never can come back, so hunting days must be nearly over. Howare the people to support themselves, or are they to be looked after infuture by the Government?"

  "Why, son," said Hugh, "I guess that question is puzzling, and it'sgoing to puzzle a lot of smarter men than you and I will ever be. It's asure thing that these Indians can never make a living in this country byfarming. They might make a living by cattle if they had any, or had anymeans of getting them, but of course the Indians have no money and nomeans of earning any money to buy cattle with. They certainly can't hireout to work, because there is no one in this country that will hire themand pay wages. If they had cattle and would take care of them they mightdo well, because this is one of the finest grazing ranges in the world,but you know very well that if the Government were to give each one ofthese Indians a cow to-morrow, a week hence very few of them would stillhave his cow. They would kill them and eat them, and then sit around andhope that the Government would give them another. They have got to havea lot of instruction before they will look out for the future."

  "Well," said Jack, "you can't blame them. In the past when they wantedfood they went out and killed something, and they can't be expected tounderstand that things are changing." />
  "No," said Hugh, "I don't expect it of them, but if they don't come tounderstand it very soon they will have to suffer again just what theysuffered two years ago."

  "Well," said Jack, "it's mighty hard lines; it's heartbreaking to thinkof."

  "So it is," said Hugh. "I feel mighty badly whenever I think of it, butI reckon it's the law. I expect the white people had to go through anawful lot of suffering before they got to the point where 'most everyman realized that he had to work hard for a living, and I reckon if youlook around back where you live you'll find that there are a good manypeople in those big cities there that don't realize this yet."

  "Yes," said Jack, "I suppose there are, but these Indians are so kindlyand generous and hospitable that I feel a personal sympathy for each oneof them that, of course, I don't feel for the inefficient people backEast."

  "Well," said Hugh, "that's natural, of course. You know these people andyou don't know the others."

  Soon after they got back to the trader's store dinner was ready, andafter dinner they lounged about the store talking with Bruce.