by Terry Grosz
“Crooked Hand, I am going to walk back and sneak up to that source of the wood smoke we just smelled. I need you to stay here and wait for me to return. That way with only one of us sneaking up to that source of the smell of burning wood lessens our chance of being discovered. I need to see if it is Indians or maybe other trappers. Either way, we need to know who else is in country and so close to our hidden cabin. Hopefully I won’t be discovered but if I am and you hear shooting, you ride for our cabin like the Devil is on your tail and bring the other two back here to bail me out if I am still alive,” quietly uttered Iron Hand.
With those words being spoken, Iron Hand quietly disappeared into the fast-falling darkness following his nose leading him to the smell of a mystery someone’s campfire. About 20 minutes later, Iron Hand finally observed the faint flicker of a campfire through the stand of pine trees. Continuing to move in for a better look one quiet step at a time, Iron Hand was soon able to see the source of his interest.
Sitting or standing around their campsite were eight Gros Ventre Indians. They were warming themselves up and in the process, cooking up some meat that had been staked out around their now abnormally large fire, not usually of the kind built by Indians. But that is not what really caught his eyes. Another Indian emerged from out of the darkness of the trees and he appeared to be a Blackfoot by his dress. Then Iron Hand spotted it! The Blackfoot Indian had a large scar running clear across his forehead and across the rest of his face on a downward angle that was even apparent in the faint light of their campfire! That Indian appeared to be the older brother and Bad Seed from Chief Mingan’s band of Blackfeet that Spotted Eagle and his braves had been hunting for some time! The Indian with the scar was also the one who had pledged to kill Iron Hand for killing his younger brother with a thrown tomahawk to the face back at the fight on the Missouri River, when all four of Old Potts’s trappers had killed so many renegade Indians who had been killing and robbing every trapper they had run across…
Just as Iron Hand started to leave since he had seen enough and with the knowledge that he and his fellow trappers had to kill this entire lot of Indians or they would be meeting them violently sooner or later, he heard some strange sounds coming from deeper in the timber behind the group of Indians now gathered around their campfire. Curious as to that strange sound just heard, Iron Hand slipped back further into the timber and then stalked around the men by the campfire into the darkness where he had heard such a strange and muffled sound like someone in despair.
Long moments later, Iron Hand found himself looking at three young white men fur trappers from behind where they had been tied up around three separate pine trees. Each man had been tightly bound with rope and even had a tight strand of rope around each man’s necks and wrapped around their tie-down tree so they could not yell out or lower their heads and attempt to chew their ways through the ropes binding the prisoners, allowing them to escape.
With that, Iron Hand had seen enough and being outnumbered, slipped quietly back into the dark gloom of the trees in the darkness, as he headed for his horse tied off back in the aspen grove. Arriving shortly thereafter, Iron Hand instructed Crooked Hand as to what he had observed. Then Iron Hand sent Crooked Hand quietly on his way back to their cabin in order to get some help from the other two trappers. But not before instructing Crooked Hand on who was in the suspect camp, their numbers, who was tied up and that the Bad Seed Blackfoot Indian was among them! Iron Hand then laid out a battle plan and instructed Crooked Hand on how to sneak back with the other trappers to where he would be and what needed to be done once all of them were together again.
With that, Crooked Hand slipped off into the darkness leading their packhorse and headed for their cabin and some help. In turn, Iron Hand turned around and once again headed back into the area of the renegade Indians’ camp. Once back at their camp, Iron Hand quietly and without letting the captives know he was in country, silently positioned himself directly behind the tied-up trappers so he could protect them if the Indians around the campfire tried to kill them before help arrived.
About an hour-and-a-half later, Iron Hand became aware of someone quietly sneaking in behind him. Turning, he was happy to see Crooked Hand’s ugly mug appearing into the faint backlight from the Indian renegades’ campfire. Then behind Crooked Hand, Iron Hand could see two other dark shapes materializing out from the darkness and silently creeping towards him as well.
Iron Hand then slipped back into the darkness, joined his three trapper friends and quietly whispered out a plan of attack. Having been there unknown in the renegades’ camp for so long, Iron Hand had time to examine the entire layout of their camp and figure out what needed doing when the time came. For the next few minutes, Iron Hand laid out a military-style battle plan to his three trapper friends and then without another word being spoken, the three trappers silently disappeared off into different directions in order to get into their pre-planned positions of attack. Then nothing was heard for the longest time as Iron Hand waited for everyone to get into position.
Finally figuring everyone was in position and seeing that all nine of the renegade Indians had finished their meager supper and were now lying down on their blankets and going to sleep around their roaring campfire, Iron Hand made his move. Quietly slipping up behind one of the tied-up trappers, Iron Hand quietly reached out and firmly clamped his hand on the first trapper’s mouth so he could not yell out, and firmly held him still until the man quit wiggling in fear and could see the friendly face of Iron Hand peering at him from just inches away in the fire’s faint light. In an instant, the tied-up trapper’s eyes flung wide open in amazement! The man tied to the tree was none other than Josh Dent, a fellow trapper and friend Iron Hand and his mates had met earlier back at Fort Union and who now had recognized the face of the huge man, fellow trapper and friend. A man who Iron Hand was still holding his mouth tightly shut so he would not make any noises that would alert his captors. Then Iron Hand could finally see a wave of recognition and relief flooding across Josh’s eyes upon seeing and realizing his friend was so close at hand!
Iron Hand in turn, being surprised over seeing his friend, a prisoner of the Indians sleeping back at their campfire, had a face that reflected almost the same degree of surprise as did that of Josh! When Josh Dent had finally settled down from his fright and surprise at being ‘taken’ from behind and then recognizing that of his friend, physically relaxed in Iron Hand’s hand still firmly holding his mouth shut. Iron Hand then quietly cut Josh’s ropes holding him against the tree and held his finger to his lips for silence and motioned for him to stand ready in place.
As that man’s rope fell away, Iron Hand handed the man a pistol that had been fully cocked and laid his index finger over his lips for silence once again. Josh nodded his head in understanding and then standing there by his ‘tree of capture’, watched as Iron Hand slipped over to the next tied-up trapper in line and from behind in complete surprise, repeated the quieting-the-man-down process first and then cutting him loose as well. Then that man was also slipped a fully loaded and cocked pistol into his hands and motioned to remain silent and stand there as well. Following that, Iron Hand slipped over to the last tied-up trapper who was fast asleep standing up in his tied-to-the-tree position. Reaching out, Iron Hand once again firmly placed his hand against the man’s mouth so he would not suddenly yell out in fright as he awoke and arouse the now-sleeping Indians. It was then that Iron Hand recognized the face of Gabriel Dent, younger brother to Josh and also a fellow trapper and friend! In turn, when Gabe’s eyes were flung wide open in fear and surprise at being awakened in such a manner, he instantly recognized the heavily bearded face of his friend from Fort Union, namely that of Iron Hand! Iron Hand gestured with his finger to his lips for silence and repeated the same procedure he had performed earlier on the two trappers by cutting his ropes that bound him. He too was slipped a fully loaded and cocked pistol and motioned by Iron Hand to remain there and stand quietly for what was yet
to come. Gabe with a look of relief on his face, nodded that he understood and stood as still as a stone awaiting their next move based on Iron Hand’s further instructions.
As had been planned earlier, Old Potts had brought extra fully loaded pistols to the event because of the number of hostile Indians that they would be facing, and had slipped two extra pistols into Iron Hand’s sash once they were together again. Then as each man had been untied, he was slipped a pistol from Iron Hand’s sash for what was soon to come.
Facing the three now-freed trapper prisoners, Iron Hand still faintly bathed in the light from the Indian’s campfire, made a hand gesture which brought the three now-freed trappers’ heads in close to his. When they did, Iron Hand whispered what he wanted each man to do. The three men nodded in concert that they understood when Iron Hand had finished with his instructions. Then quietly forming a line abreast, the four men, three armed with pistols holding buck and ball and Iron Hand carrying his Hawken, began silently walking towards the nine sleeping Indians around the campfire.
As they approached into the brighter light of the campfire, Old Potts and his two other trappers ‘melted’ into the firelight as well in a line abreast and then all the men stood silently along one side of the group of sleeping Indians for a few seconds gathering themselves for the violent act that was soon to come. As they did, Iron Hand pointed to every one of the men standing there in silence and then pointed downward towards which Indian sleeping on the ground each man was to shoot, so that none of the Indians would escape their final retribution…
Looking around at the men to see if their eyes all ‘said’ they were ready and getting a silent ‘OK’ from each man, Iron Hand yelled “HEY!” When he did, the nine Indians previously sleeping on the ground around the campfire erupted upward as if they had each been shot into the air!
In the next microsecond, six pistols and one Hawken rifle erupted flame, smoke and deadly hot lead projectiles directly into nine, now madly scrambling Indians awakening from a dead sleep into what had to be a most terrifying moment of panic! In that fusillade of shooting, seven hearts were instantly stilled as most of the Indians were head shot by the six trappers from such a close range. The remaining two Indian renegades died just as quickly a split-second later, as Old Potts’s trappers fired their reserve pistols held in their off hands, simultaneously, into one of the remaining two standing Indians, blowing him into dozens of pieces after being shot with buck and ball from just four feet away!
The remaining standing Indian, a Blackfoot by his dress with a very distinct scar running clear across his forehead from a previous horse wreck as a younger man, one who had been personally selected by Iron Hand for death that evening, had a tomahawk smashed into the front of his face by Iron Hand with such force, that he snapped his blade from the handle! Not to worry though, the blade had sunken into the Bad Seed’s skull so deeply that Iron Hand had to borrow Crooked Hand’s tomahawk in order to chop out his tomahawk blade from the man’s skull so it could be fixed later with a new handle and still be used at a later date when necessary! Any concerns that Spotted Eagle had for his Brother’s well-being regarding what the Bad Seed was going to do to Iron Hand if he caught him off-guard for killing his younger brother, drifted off into the ‘forever’ of the prairie’s ever-blowing winter winds…
Old Potts and his trappers quickly reloaded their pistols and then made a sweep of the Indians’ campsite looking for any more of their evil-killing kind. Finding none, all the men hurriedly gathered up their riding and packhorses in camp, loaded them, picked up all the Indians’ weapons and walked their horses out of the death-shrouded area to where Old Potts and his trappers had secreted their riding stock. Once Old Potts’s trappers were once again a-horse, the entire group headed back to the comfort of their cabin located the next ridge over.
Back at their cabin, Crooked Hand built up their outside fire in their firepit as Iron Hand fetched out a keg of their rum and a handful of cups. Soon the cups were filled with their high proof rum, the men were seated around the fire on their sitting logs and then, at the request of Iron Hand, the Brothers Dent told their story of capture by the Bad Seed’s band of renegades.
Josh started off with their story of introducing the new trapper to their gathering, a man named Otis Barnes. Otis had teamed up with the Brothers Dent back at Fort Union and had ridden and trapped with the brothers as they hunted for Black Bill Jenkins, who was reported trapping on the further north headwaters of the Porcupine River. Then one evening during a rainstorm, the Dent brothers and Otis had been surprised by the Bad Seed and his bunch of renegades and taken prisoner. As Josh told it, they had been slated for killing the very next day but Iron Hand and his fellow trappers through their timely intervention, had made sure those killing plans had not been carried out by the members of the renegade band of Indians…
Throughout the story being told by Josh, Old Potts had remained silent as if mulling over one of Iron Hand’s piping hot Dutch oven biscuits in his mouth without getting his tongue burned in the process. In the moments of silence following Josh’s story of capture, Old Potts cleared his throat letting everyone know he wanted to speak next, and said, “Well, as I see it, we trappers gathered around this here fire have two options. You Dent brothers and Otis can continue your quest in trying to run Black Bill Jenkins and his red-headed kin down further north on the Porcupine, or you can join up with us and all of us can work as a team for the protection afforded having the seven of us shooters working the beaver trapping waters together. If we can keep our hair, we can share the profits from our trapping successes here on this stretch of water along the Porcupine. There appears to be beaver a-plenty for all of us, and having seven shooters on the same side in this God-forsaken country full of them damn white man-hating Gros Ventre sure appeals to me over getting a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.”
Josh Dent looked over at his younger brother Gabe, and Otis and seeing agreement on their faces over the thought of the possibility of being captured or killed further down the line, nodded his head saying, “Old Potts, the three of us would like to take you up on your ‘invite.’ We had pretty well searched out the headwaters of the Porcupine looking for any sign of Black Bill but from where we stood, it appeared he and his kin had already left the area for better trapping grounds. That being said, we three still need to make a living and beaver trapping is our choice. So until we hear additional word as to the whereabouts of Black Bill and his kin, we would like to take you and your trappers up on your offer of all of us working together for the protection those numbers of us shooters affords.”
Then as an afterthought, Josh said, “We still have all of our traps, livestock and the furs we had accumulated prior to our untimely capture, but those nine ‘eager-eating’ Indians pretty well cleaned us out of our provisions. That in mind, we can offer little in the way of grub but if you have enough and will have us under those circumstances, we can work for our ‘found’, if that is pleasing to the four of you? Additionally, now that we have those nine dead Indians’ riding and packing stock animals, not to mention all of their firepower, we should be pretty well set in hauling out all the furs we trap, plus be more than able to defend ourselves in the face of most groups of hostile Indians that we might be facing.”
“Well, it just so happens that we came with two years’ worth of provisions because we would be trapping so far west and with that in mind, were not sure if we could return to Fort Union and resupply ourselves come the summer months. So food should be no problem, especially with all the good eatin’ buffalo that we have so close at hand. But we will have a space issue inside our cabin with three more of you chaps living inside when the winter winds howl and the snows get knee deep to that long-legged galloot in our bunch we call Iron Hand. However, with three more hands, we can make another addition to our cabin and make it downright homey after a few days of hard work. What do the three of you say? Do you want to give it a whirl, help us build an addition to our cabin for the additiona
l sleeping space it affords, and then throw in your lot with the four of us for whatever that brings the seven of us in the way of future trappings?” asked Old Potts. Then as an afterthought and before anyone could respond to his earlier question, he brought up the question of what to do with having to hide the nine now-dead Indians that all of them had ‘placed’ among the Cloud People.
Crooked Hand just smiled over Old Potts’s worry of body disposal, pointing out to Old Potts that there was a grizzly bear den not far from that place of death, and surmised that the bear would soon scent out and take care of their disposal question for them.
Somewhat later in the early morning hours of that memorable day after a ‘joining of forces agreement had been reached’, the Dents and Otis threw down their sleeping furs just outside the cabin and after several cups of rum apiece, were fast asleep after a somewhat harrowing several days in the capture of the now-dead Bad Seed and his eight Gros Ventre renegade friends. However, come daylight, Iron Hand and Crooked Hand were up, making breakfast and preparing their stock for another trip down to the beaver waters along the Porcupine in order to run their trap line. As for Old Potts, Big Foot, Otis and the Dents, after breakfast, they adjourned into the timber and began cutting the needed logs in order to build an addition onto the men’s existing cabin.
Come the early afternoon, Iron Hand and Crooked Hand returned with 25 fresh beaver hides and then the work really began in earnest. As Big Foot and Old Potts hove to in their fleshing and beaver skin hooping duties, Iron Hand went to work in the ‘kitchen’ now that he had seven large appetites to satisfy, and Crooked Hand lent a hand in the ‘timber-harvesting and log-dragging business’.
