Always, his mind returned to the voices of two men, talking over a third who had not the strength to talk back to them. Two men, who had conspired to rob him of all his worldly goods, then to leave him to die, alone and helpless.
True it was, that Bridger had fought against that decision at first, and it was true that he was young. But in the end, he had gone along. He had made a man's decision, and he would pay a man's consequence. It was an unforgiving world they lived in. Bridger was old enough to know that a man lived and died by the decisions he made. He had done the deed. He would reap the reward.
Slowly, Hugh's trek began to incline upward.
***
Hugh Glass arrived at Fort Henry during the second week of December. It was midday when he suddenly came out of some trees and saw it lying ahead of him. He stopped for a moment and stared at it. Anticipation filled him. Before him lay warmth, hot food, and the two men he was going to kill.
Then he realized that he smelled no smoke, nor did he see any coming from the smokestacks at the fort. The gate in front of the fort hung loosely open.
Moving carefully, he began to circle the fort.
Almost two hours later, Hugh concluded that there was no life inside. Still careful, with his rifle at the ready, he walked up and entered the gate.
Nothing. Everything was gone. Hugh saw no signs that a battle had taken place. The men inside had just up and left.
One by one, he began to search the buildings. All were empty. On the wall of the last building Hugh looked in, he found the words written in red paint.
MOVED UPSTREAM TO MOUTH OF BIGHORN
With mixed feelings of disappointment and relief, Hugh leaned against the wall and read the words again. So they had moved upstream... He wondered how far the mouth of the Bighorn was, how many more days and nights he would have to spend marching through this frozen land. He felt suddenly very tired.
At least they hadn't all been wiped out by the Blackfeet. That had been his first fear upon seeing the fort empty. Two men from this company he wanted to see dead--but by Hugh's own hand, not by indians. For the rest of the company, he bore no ill will, and after walking alone for weeks, with only the icy wind for companionship, Hugh longed to hear the sound of a human voice.
The trappers had left a good supply of wood. Surprised that the indians hadn't come and hauled it away, Hugh set about making a fire. He would spend this night in no snow cave. Tonight he would be warm.
***
The next morning, leaving his pack at the fort, Hugh went hunting. His food supply was nearly gone and he had a journey of unknown length ahead of him. Hugh knew he would not get a chance like this again.
Luck was with him. Around noon he killed a small deer. Carrying it back to the fort, he spent the afternoon and evening smoking strips of meat over the fire.
The next day he moved on.
***
Two weeks after leaving the old fort, Hugh reached Fort Henry. It was late in the day. Hugh was about to make his camp for the night, when a shift in the wind brought him a whiff of smoke. Cautious as well as curious, he began to seek out its origin. Fully aware that it might be coming from the fort, he also knew there might be indians nearby.
It took him an hour to learn the truth, and this time there was no question that the fort was occupied. The gate was shut tight, and smoke came from every chimney. Hugh could see a lone figure standing inside the wall near the top of the gate, keeping guard.
It was nearly dark by the time he neared the entrance. The guard yelled down into the fort, "Man at the gate!"
Then, to Hugh, he yelled, "Who are you?"
Hugh hesitated for a second, then answered, "A member of the Company!"
"Can't be," the guard told him. "We're all here!"
"All but one. I'm Hugh Glass!"
The guard peered down at him for a moment. The man standing before him in the twilit gloom couldn't be Glass. Glass was dead. Turning, the guard spoke to someone inside the fort. Then he turned back to Hugh.
"You can't be Hugh Glass," he said. "Glass was killed by a grizzly. Whoever you are, though, you're a white man. We'll allow you in."
The big gate opened.
They took him to the first building inside the fort, which was Major Henry's cabin and office. Henry rose to meet him as they entered.
"So," Henry began skeptically, "you're Hugh Glass?"
"That I am--and I'm here to kill two of your men. Look closely, Major. I can't have changed that much."
But he had. Scars, from where the bear's claws had torn his scalp, pulled the skin tight on one side of his face. He hadn't shaved for the six weeks he'd been walking through the wilderness. Still, there was something about the eyes...
"You don't sound like Glass," Henry told him.
"And how would you sound, Major, if your throat had been ripped out by a silvertip?"
Doubt began to show in Andrew Henry's eyes.
There were about ten men in the room, with more standing in the doorway.
Suddenly they cleared to one side and Jim Bridger stepped in. He stood for a moment looking at Hugh. Then he went visibly pale. His mouth dropped open. "Keep it away from me!" Jim's voice was barely more than a whisper. "Keep it away--it's a ghost!"
"No ghost, you little coward!" Hugh growled, "just the man you robbed and left to die out on the prairie!"
Without warning, Hugh rushed him. Jim tried to back away, but months of pent-up rage and endless pain drove Hugh Glass. He struck Bridger hard. The two men fell through the doorway and out into the snow, knocking two other men to the ground in their wake.
Glass came up on top. Jim didn't try to fight back, but attempted to protect himself as Hugh began raining blows on him. Most of Hugh's blows were deflected by Jim's heavy winter clothing. A few of them connected.
After what seemed an eternity to Jim, the others managed to pull the two men apart. Four trappers held on to Hugh as they moved back inside the building.
Major Andrew Henry was furious.
"All right!" he said loudly. "I'll have no more of that!" Looking at Hugh, he said, "You either control yourself, or I'll have you thrown out!" Then, breathing with disgust, he added, "Yes, you're Hugh Glass, all right! Too independent and too damn stubborn to be kept in line! You have yourself to blame for getting attacked by that grizzly--no one else! Your irresponsible actions could have gotten us all killed!"
"Still," he went on, "that doesn't excuse the fact that you were robbed and left to die..." As he spoke, Henry turned toward Jim Bridger. "Jim, you and John Fitzgerald both took extra money to take care of this man. What have you to say?"
Jim Bridger was a pathetic sight. For months guilt had plagued him, riding his conscience day and night. He stood, slump-shouldered, shaking visibly and watching Hugh Glass. Only now was his mind starting to accept the fact that Hugh was flesh and blood, and not a remnant.
Jim's mouth worked three or four times before he was able to get any words out. "Mr. Glass," He began, "I'm sorry. Oh, God help me, I am. I'm really sorry!" That was all he could say. Glass looked at him, waiting, but it was not Jim's way to pass the buck, or to make excuses, or to accept less than a full share of the blame.
Realizing this softened Hugh Glass. As much as he tried to keep the anger inside him, he felt it go out in a breath, leaving only mild disgust and, strangely, pity for the young man. If possible, Jim Bridger had let himself down in measures greater even than he had let down Hugh Glass.
"Pull yourself together, boy." Hugh said quietly. "I'll not harm you. I wanted to see if you would try to pass the blame. To your credit, you didn't. I was there, though, and I wasn't always unconscious. It was Fitzgerald that egged you on. He worked on you for days. I will say this, though. In the future, if you give your duty to a man, you'd best stick to it. Otherwise, it'll come back on you."
Hugh turned to Major Henry.
"Now," he said, "where is John Fitzgerald, and where is my rifle?"
"Gone," Henry told him. "He
and two other men left last month for Fort Atkinson. Your rifle went with him."
This was not something that Hugh Glass wanted to hear.
"Oh, Christ Almighty," he said under his breath. "How you test me..." Andrew Henry was still watching him. "So that's it, then?" Henry asked. "You're done with Bridger?"
"Yes, I'm done with him."
"And if I let you stay, you won't change your mind tomorrow or next week, and try to cause him harm?"
"Major," Hugh said, "I give you my word." He looked once more at Jim. "I'll leave you to your conscience, boy. I think it's already done more harm to you than I ever could."
Unable to look Hugh in the eye, Jim just nodded.
"In that case," Andrew Henry said, "let's get on with the celebrating!" Hugh looked at him.
"Celebrating?"
"Yes," Henry told him. "Didn't you know? It's New Years Eve!"
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
March 27, 1824 ONCE AGAIN, Hugh Glass was on the move. This time he wasn't alone, though. Four others were with him--Dutton, More, Chapman, and Marsh. They were headed for St. Louis. Hugh carried an important dispatch for General Ashley. That wasn't Hugh's main reason for going, though. He was after John Fitzgerald.
They had left Fort Henry nearly a month earlier, on February 29th--leap year. Foul weather had kept Hugh trapped at the fort for two months. It had done nothing to weaken his resolve to kill Fitzgerald. He also wanted his rifle back.
Shunning the still-frozen Missouri, the five men had followed the Powder River to its source, then worked their way over to the Platte. Here they stopped. The spring thaw had finally begun. The Platte was running. They would make much better time if they traveled by water. Working together, they built a bull-boat. This was done by cutting saplings and tying them together in the shape of a bowl, then covering the "bowl" with buffalo skins. When this was finished, they had only to pour tallow over the seams to make it watertight. Completely round, the boat was six feet in diameter, which made it plenty big enough for all five men and everything they carried.
Manuevering the boat was another matter. They were heading downstream. One man, using a pole, attempted to steer. The morning they set out was spent between hilarity and panic as the tiny boat whirled and dipped, rolled and rocketed through rapids and narrows, driven onward by the spring thaw, never quite under control. Hugh Glass could not remember the last time he had laughed so much or so hard.
By the end of the day, the scenery was starting to look familiar to him.
The following morning, just after they left, Hugh told the others:
"We're in my old stompin' grounds, boys. This is Pawnee country. I spent about four years in these parts, with a tribe of Pawnees. Don't be surprised if we see them camped along one of these riverbends."
In fact, Hugh was looking forward to it. Time had passed. Hugh's wounds had finally healed and he was no longer in pain, and he very much wanted to see his old friends again.
Around noon, on the next day, they saw the village. As Hugh had predicted, it sat just above a bend in the river. This would allow the people in the village access to the water from two different directions.
Seeing the men in the boat, the indians waved to them. Hugh and the others managed to manuever the ungainly little craft to the shore. Then, leaving their firearms in the boat, Marsh, Chapman, More, and Hugh Glass walked up to the village, leaving Dutton to stand guard over their belongings.
Hugh was a little disappointed that he saw no familiar faces among the people that greeted them. Even if this wasn't Old Knife's tribe, though, they were close enough neighbors that Hugh could probably get word of his friends, and would be able to send a message along to Big Axe and the others.
As they began to move into the village, Hugh felt a sudden sense of alarm. Two squaws were conversing alongside the four white men. One of them used a word that didn't sound quite right for Pawnee. It was more like an expression that the Arikaras might use...
Then he saw Elk's Tongue walking toward them.
"Run for it, boys!" he said suddenly. "These are Arikaras!"
In panic, the four white men ran back toward the boat. The Arikaras followed, whooping and yelling wildly. Having left their rifles with Dutton, Hugh and the others were almost defenseless. Hugh heard a gunshot from behind, but none of the whites fell. All four men kept running for their lives. Dutton, seeing their plight, picked up their rifles and began firing into the Arikaras, slowing them down and gaining precious seconds for the four white men.
Before they had covered half the distance back to the river, Marsh had gained a significant lead over the others. He reached the bull-boat nearly forty feet ahead of the others. In frantic effort to get into the boat, he pushed it away from the shore. Spinning out into the current, it was quickly carried away, with Dutton inside struggling to keep his balance and Marsh desperately clinging to the side. By the time Hugh and the other two men reached the water, the boat was already fifty feet away and moving fast. Hugh hit the water as, behind him, a hundred guns seemed to go off at once. Staying under the surface, Hugh fought the current and swam hard for the opposite bank. The other two men, More and Chapman, entered the water at the same time and swam after the boat. Hugh wished he could have had time to warn them. The current carried the two men past the length of the village. Dozens of Arikara Warriors, some on horseback, raced out to meet them.
Not looking to see if he had been spotted, Hugh clambored out of the river, up the opposite bank, and disappeared over a small ridge. Out of sight of the village, he ran back upstream, to a point of rocks he had seen just before they had reached the village. There he hid himself, practicing every trick Big Axe had ever taught him on making himself invisible.
Later, the wind carried the sound of agonized screaming to him, and Hugh Glass knew that at least one of the others had been captured.
He stayed in his hiding place throughout the afternoon and well into the evening, and only well after it was dark did he slip away, unnoticed and unseen.
***
Once more he was alone in the wilderness, hundreds of miles from any white men and without a gun. This time, however, he had his knife and his tomahawk. He had his flint and steel, so he could make a fire. This time, too, he was no longer a cripple.
He also had a rough map of the land, and he still carried the dispatch for General Ashley. Looking at the map, Hugh noticed that Fort Kiowa and Fort Atkinson were equal distances from his position. He knew no one at Fort Atckinson, but the owner of Fort Kiowa, Joseph Brazeau, knew him. As a member of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company, Hugh would be able to get credit there once more.
Hugh headed for Fort Kiowa.
***
Hugh Glass reached Fort Kiowa for the second time in mid-June. Upon seeing him, Kiowa Brazeau simply stood behind the counter of his store, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.
"My friend," he said finally, "don't you ever stay dead?" Hugh gave him a puzzled look.
"I've just been reading about you," Brazeau told him. He handed Hugh a newspaper.
The newspaper was the St. Louis Enquirer. It was dated June 7, 1824 more than a week old. Hugh read the story:
"-Mr. Vasquez, just from the upper Missouri, states that five men of Maj. Henry's party in descending the Platte, were attacked by a party of Aurikaree Indians--and that three, More, Chapman, and Glass were killed; that the others, Dutton and Marsh, made their escape and arrived at Council Bluffs."
***
Hugh put the newspaper down. So, Dutton and Marsh had escaped, and it had been Chapman and More that he had heard screaming afterward. Hugh said a silent prayer for them. He had no doubt that their capture had distracted the Arikaras and allowed him to escape unharmed.
Once more, Kiowa extended credit to him. This time, at Hugh's request, Brazeau included a horse. When Hugh casually asked if Brazeau had heard anything about a man named John Fitzgerald, Kiowa smiled.
"I wondered if you were going to get around to him," Brazeau s
aid. "He's down at Fort Atkinson. He joined the Army back in April. Some say it's because someone was chasing him."
***
It was late in June before Hugh Glass finally reached Fort Atkinson. He had plenty of time to think about what he wanted to do, and plenty of time to reflect on all that had happened to him. Despite events at the time, he could find no excuse for Fitzgerald's actions; no reason to forgive the man. No reason not to kill him.
Atkinson wasn't at the fort. Nor was Colonel Leavenworth. The officer in charge was Captain Bennett Riley.
Something in Hugh's manner alerted Riley that something was wrong. He refused to let Hugh see Fitzgerald.
"Just tell me what the business is that you have with him," Riley told Hugh. Unable to contain his emotions, Hugh fairly shook with anger and anticipation. He'd come so far, been through so much.
"I just...need to see him." Hugh fought to keep control.
"Mr. Glass," Riley said, "if this man has harmed you or your family, wronged you in any way-"
"Captain," Hugh interrupted, "look at me. Tell me what you see!" Riley regarded him.
"I see a man who has been through.. .a lot."
"Yes...?"
Riley sighed.
"We've begun to hear stories," he said, "--from the indians--about a white man who was attacked by a grizzly. They say that two other white men, who were supposed to be his friends, left him to die, and that he had to crawl hundreds of miles, with wounds too numerous to mention--that wouldn't be you, would it?"
"THEY - ROBBED - ME!" Hugh exploded, unable to keep it in. "They left me...!"
"And now you're here to kill one of those men."
Hugh stared at the floor, blinking. A single tear ran down his nose and fell. "What would you do, Captain?" he asked angrily. "If it were you, what would you do?" He looked at Riley. "What the hell would you do?"
"Well, in the first place, I probably would have died. I don't think there are many men who would have survived what you have. If I did survive, I'd probably feel just like you do. I'd want to kill them, too... But, as commander of this post, I can't allow you to do that."
Hugh Glass - Bruce Bradley Page 23
