Grizzly Killer: The Making of a Mountain Man

by Lane R Warenski

  Me and Sun Flower got up and were greeted with a big smile from Red Hawk, and Buffalo Heart was up on one elbow. Sun Flower and Red Hawk talked for a minute, then she spoke with Buffalo Heart. When she turned to me, she said Red Hawk said his side still hurt but not like before, and Buffalo Heart felt better too. This was only the fourth day since they had been attacked and tortured by the Arapahos, but they were both strong young men and were healin’ mighty fast. The burns on Buffalo Heart were deep and would take many more days to heal up. Raven Wing had mixed up another poultice for the burns, and Sun Flower said it would keep the skin from becomin’ angry and hot. Me and Red Hawk helped Buffalo Heart up, and you could tell he hurt and was mighty sore. He started to walk ’round some and then headed for the bushes.

  While Sun Flower and Raven Wing got breakfast started, I went in the dugout, and it was musty and stale inside. I had to admit the teepee was much more pleasant. But I figured the dugout would make a great tack room for the saddles and packs and storeroom for the supplies. With the flour, cornmeal, and sugar bein’ in barrels now, the mice and pack rats couldn’t get to it. I got some coals from the fire and put them in the smokehouse again and added some more chokecherry branches. It looked like another day or so and this meat would be smoked enough to keep. This time of year, makin’ meat was a constant thing ’cause it didn’t keep well in the heat of summer.

  We ate and, over coffee, made plans for the next couple of days. We were ’bout out of grease, and gettin’ a bear was needed. Red Hawk told Raven Wing they needed to get back and let Sees Far’s family know what had happened, and they would leave just as soon as Buffalo Heart could travel. Runnin’ Wolf said as soon as they could travel, we needed to leave to go to his village and see that his sister was all right. We made plans for me and Runnin’ Wolf to scout some of the smaller creeks runnin’ into Black’s Fork for bear signs and, if we found signs, set up some bait for tonight. Sun Flower said she needed to get the deer hides and now antelope hide tanned. I could tell Runnin’ Wolf wanted to get on the trail over the mountains, but he wasn’t willin’ to hurry Buffalo Heart either.

  Me and Runnin’ Wolf saddled up and started up the trail I had rode so many times throughout the winter. Jimbo didn’t look happy when I told him to stay, but I wanted him with the women. I knew he would warn them of trouble and protect them as well. The creek where Pa was buried emptied into Black’s Fork ’bout ten miles above the dugout. But there were three that ran into it before that one, two of them on the east and one on the west. Me and Pa had seen many black bears like the ones we had back home while we were trappin’ last fall and hadn’t had any trouble takin’ one when we needed it. I didn’t want to run into any more grizzlies. In the last nine months, I had killed two, and Pa killed the one that killed him, so I knew there were plenty of them around. There were trappers at Rendezvous that said they had never seen one, and I didn’t want to see another. We passed the first creek and the second, but the third went off to the west and opened up into a wide basin with several beaver ponds up higher. We started up that one and had only gone ’bout a mile up when we saw bear tracks in the trail.

  When we got up into the basin, there was a lot of bear signs. A rotten log had been ripped apart, and there were bear tracks in the damp ground around it. A little farther along, we found where a quakie was used to scratch on, and there was still damp mud on the bark. The bear was usin’ this area, maybe lookin’ for a beaver that was out of the pond. There were quakies down all around these ponds from the beaver. As we continued on, a beaver slapped his tail on the next pond, and then all was quiet. When we were above the next pond, we saw several marmots scurryin’ around some rocks. Runnin’ Wolf took his bow, and really takin’ his time, he got two of them.

  We took them back down where the bear sign was freshest and cut them open and spread their guts ’round the log that had been ripped apart and left their carcasses right there where the sun would beat down on them all day. We figured to come back just ’fore dark and get set up and wait for that bear to make his nightly rounds. We followed that same trail back down the creek, and when we were ’bout a mile from Black’s Fork, Ol’ Red just stopped and snorted. Runnin’ Wolf’s chestnut reared, spun in the trail, and took off ’fore Runnin’ Wolf could control him. I could feel every muscle in Red was tense. Then no more than twenty yards from me, in the brush alongside the trail, a big bear stood up on his hind legs. Red snorted again but didn’t move. I brought the Hawken to my shoulder and fired all in one motion, and the bear dropped down and charged. Ol’ Red jumped, and I went right out of the saddle. I landed flat on my back and had my knife in hand at the same time. At that instant, I thought of Pa and how this was what happened to him. I knew this wasn’t a grizzly, but at that moment, it looked mighty big. Then right next to me, a rifle roared, and the bear fell right at my feet. I looked up in time to see Runnin’ Wolf lower his rifle and get a big ol’ grin on his face. This had been quite a homecomin’, this first week back at the dugout.

  Runnin’ Wolf asked me if I was plannin’ on fightin’ that bear lyin’ down with only my knife, and I said, “Naw, I was just takin’ a bit of a rest ’fore I started to skin ’em.” The chestnut was havin’ no part of that bear on him, so Ol’ Red had to carry the whole thing. It was mighty big for a black bear, maybe 350 pounds. I wanted to wait till we got back to skin him, but he was so heavy we skinned and gutted him out and then tied him over my saddle. I walked out, leadin’ Red. Runnin’ Wolf just headed for the dugout, and I was maybe halfway back when here he came back with Sun Flower’s roan saddled for me.

  We got back to the dugout and got that bear taken care of, gettin’ all the fat we could get. It was ’bout the end of June or first of July, and he didn’t have near the fat on him they had in the fall. But it would do us for quite a spell. Raven Wing used some of it in the poultice for Buffalo Heart’s burns. He was up and walkin’ around now. You could tell he was hurtin’, but he tried not to let it show.

  The next day, ’bout midmornin’, a gusty wind came up, and by midday it was cloudin’ up. We moved everything in the dugout and teepee, and Sun Flower untied the bottom of the lodge coverin’ and let it down to the ground. By midafternoon we could see lightnin’ and hear the thunder, and half an hour later, the rain came. It rained hard for maybe half an hour then just sprinkled for a couple more hours, and it was like the mountains came to life. The fresh smell of the rain and shine it put on the meadow grass was quite a change. The color of the wildflowers became brighter. From start to finish, this storm lasted maybe four hours, and it was like it just refreshed the world around us. These mountain rains are cold, not like the ones back in Kentucky, where the rain this time of year can be warm. These Rocky Mountain rains are downright cold.

  Sun Flower and Raven Wing sliced big chunks off that bear and got them to roastin’ on a spit over the fire while we lashed together a jerky rack. We cut the rest of the bear into strips and placed them on the rack and got a fire goin’ under it to start to dry the jerky. When the bear on the spit was lookin’ ’bout done, they mixed up a pan of biscuits and set the pan on some coals by the side of the fire. These pan biscuits were something different for all these Injun people, but they all liked them, and they had become a big part of most of our meals. Each week it seemed they were findin’ more flowers and plants that they were cookin’ with, and the stews were mighty good. I did think at times of Ma’s vegetable garden back home and how good a tomato or turnip greens would taste. Then I thought of the henhouse and a basket full of fresh eggs. I hadn’t had an egg for breakfast since me and Pa left home.

  The Cherokee I grew up with back home grew gardens, but these Injuns in the West just used whatever they found in nature and was always lookin’ for something to pick or dig up. They didn’t stay in any one place long enough to plant a garden, for they were always movin’ to find game and firewood and away from the smell of a village. They moved their villages every few weeks or even more often than that.


  I had seen fish in the river, but I hadn’t figured out a way to catch them. But the next day, Red Hawk cut a bunch of small willow branches and made a basket trap out of it. It took him most of the day, and after he was done, I’d never seen anythin’ like it. I was ’bout three feet long and a foot square and just squared on one end, but the other end was like a funnel goin’ into it with a hole at the end of the funnel, which was just smaller than his fist. He put several small pieces of the scrapin’s from that bear hide on a stick and then waded out into the river. He set the trap down in a good hole where the water had washed up under a bank and placed a rock on top to hold it down and then put the stick with the bear fat scrapin’s inside the trap and just walked up out of the river and over to the fire to dry off. In a couple of hours, he checked the trap and had two trout in it. He moved it to another spot and did the same thing. By dinnertime he had eight trout, and they tasted mighty good. As I was enjoyin’ this trout, I started thinkin’ how much I still had to learn ’bout livin’ in these Shinin’ Mountains.

  Two days later, Buffalo Heart said he could ride, and they needed to get back so Sees Far’s family could mourn him. So we gave them smoked meat and jerky. Runnin’ Wolf tied the scalps onto their bows, and I got lead ropes on all five of the Arapahos horses. Red Hawk started talkin’, and Raven Wing told us he said the horses were not theirs, that we killed the enemy and they were our prize. I had Raven Wing tell him that we had more horses than we needed and we were gonna be travelin’ far and we were makin’ a gift of the horses to Red Hawk and Buffalo Heart, that they were warriors now and would need the extra mounts, that they should ride straight north for a couple of days then cut east to the Seeds-Kee-Dee to miss the enemy that might be lookin’ for their dead. Red Hawk took the lead rope from me, and with pride on his face, he thanked me. Then he spoke to Raven Wing for a few minutes, and they headed out.

  Sun Flower came over to me and put her arms ’round me and hugged me for the longest time. When I asked her what that was ’bout, she said she was happy to have a man like me. I picked her up and held her with a questionin’ look, and she said, “Red Hawk said that Grizzly Killer and Runnin’ Wolf have even stronger medicine than what the people are saying. He said you are both great warriors and great hunters. That your hearts are good and you are better friends. Then he said they will make sure all Shoshone people know that the sisters of Spotted Elk are well and lucky to have such men, and they look forward to the time when we will meet again.”

  Then Runnin’ Wolf said, “I never expected to be considered a friend of the Snake people. But my heart is glad that I am. It is better to have friends than enemies.”

  Every afternoon now, clouds would build over the mountains, and we could hear the thunder rollin’ down toward us. We didn’t get the rain for the last two days, but it wasn’t far above us.

  We made plans for our travel over the mountains into the heart of Ute country. The women needed two more days to finish tannin’ the hides they had started. And I needed to dig out the cache and store what we wouldn’t be takin’ with us. Runnin’ Wolf expected us to be back here in a moon or a little more. The trappin’ season wouldn’t get started till the beaver had winter fur, and last year that was ’round mid-September. We talked ’bout makin’ another teepee and havin’ some new buffalo robes for winter, and that would take travelin’ northeast into buffalo country. And that meant we could meet Cheyenne, Sioux, and Arapaho at any time out on the buffalo range. It would take ’bout a dozen hides for a new lodge, and we needed some skirting for winter for the old one. So we figured we’d have maybe a month to get twenty or so of the big beasts. And that would give us enough meat for the winter at the same time. It would also give the makin’s for some tough and warm moccasins.

  The next two days were mighty busy gettin’ ready to go. We separated what supplies we would travel with and cached everything else. We dragged deadfall over the cache and made it so it couldn’t be seen. That next afternoon, we got another good rain, but again it only lasted a couple of hours. Lookin’ up at the peaks of these Bear River Mountains and seein’ how far they go above the timberline made we wonder if you could touch the sky from up there, and we were goin’ right over the top of ’em.

  21 One Tough Mule

  Next mornin’ we got all the horses and mules loaded. We had loaded what we figured was enough flour, sugar, coffee, bakin’ powder, and salt to last the four of us ’bout a month and a half. That would put us back here ’round the middle of August, just when most of the berries would be ripenin’. I figured we were gonna be mighty busy this fall, gettin’ ready for winter, just like me and Pa were last year. But for now, from what Runnin’ Wolf had told me, we were lookin’ at a week or so on the trail up over the mountains and into the land of the Utes.

  We were gonna follow the Bear River up then go over the top and follow the Duchesne River down to what Runnin’ Wolf said was Rock Creek and then follow it till we found his village. I had been over this country ’tween Black’s Fork and the Bear River before and figured I knew the shortest route, so I led out, and we were on the trail again. Jimbo’s paw didn’t seem to be botherin’ him anymore, and he just moved on out ahead like he always did. We didn’t need all these pack animals, but we couldn’t leave them behind, so we just divided the load ’tween them all so they were loaded light and wouldn’t tire near as fast as they did comin’ back from Rendezvous. We were makin’ pretty good time, even draggin’ the travois with the teepee on it. The afternoon rains came again, and we were wet and cold by the time they were over. I sure wished we had some tent canvas to make some ponchos. But when the sun came out, we dried off right quick.

  Travelin’ the way we were, by late afternoon we were lookin’ down on the canyon of the Bear River, and that night we camped under a stand of quakies right near the east side of the river. We weren’t carryin’ much meat with us, just jerky and one smoked haunch. We figured on makin’ meat as we traveled. So while I took care of the stock, Runnin’ Wolf headed off downstream, and it wasn’t long till I heard the faint report of his rifle. Half hour later, he was back in camp with a yearlin’ doe, and we had fresh deer, biscuits, and coffee. We weren’t takin’ time to cure the meat, so we cut off what we could eat in the next day or so and salted the hide and rolled it up and left the rest for the wolves and coyotes.

  It cooled right off when the sun went down in this high country, but with a small fire built under the branches of the trees, it was a pleasant evenin’. As the stars started to come out, coyotes started their yippin’, and a couple of night birds were callin’ to each other along the river. We rolled out our bedrolls under the branches of some pines so if rained, we’d have some protection. This time of year, unless the weather got bad, we wouldn’t put up the teepee. I hoped when we got buffalo, we could get enough hides, and we could just carry a coverin’ for a lean-to rather than drag the teepee around on a trip like this. Runnin’ Wolf said his people only used teepees in the winter, and this time of year, they made brush wickiups ’cause they were cooler.

  The next mornin’ we were on the trail early and were movin’ through country that me and Runnin’ Wolf had been through before. By early afternoon, we had come to the place where we had fought the Snake warriors and moved on without sayin’ a word ’bout it. The climb now was gettin’ rough and steep, and we were now in country I hadn’t been in before. We weren’t makin’ near as good of time either. We could smell brimstone comin’ down through the trees and came to a place where up on the hill west of the river, which now was more of a creek, there was sulfur just comin’ out of the ground. The hillside was white, and the smell got mighty strong as we passed by. We were maybe only a mile or two past the sulfur when the afternoon thunder storms came at us. By now we were gettin’ up pretty high, and the thunder and lightnin’ got mighty fearsome. We stopped in a thick stand of pines and tied all the stock and sat right under the pine branches for an hour till the worst of it was over. It was just down to a light sprinkle w
hen we moved out.

  When we stopped for the day, the timberline wasn’t far above us. We were on the edge of a small meadow that had a shallow pond out in the middle of it. There was a huge jagged peak just to the southeast, and all the mountains and ridge tops were up above timberline. The trees only grow up so far in the Rocky Mountains they say the air is too thin for the trees to grow that high up. Back home the trees grow right up over the mountaintops, if you can call them mountains. The people back home did, but they’d never seen the Rockies with all these peaks reachin’ for the sky.

  We picketed the stock in the meadow where they had plenty of grass and water. We made our camp under the pines just on the western edge of the meadow and made our beds in soft pine needles under the towerin’ pines again, where we will be protected from any weather. We saw a small herd of elk way up on a hillside late in the afternoon but hadn’t seen any game for the last couple of hours. Sun Flower went out in the meadow along the pond and came back with several flower roots and some camas bulbs, and she boiled them with some jerky.

  It was downright cold the next mornin’, and I didn’t want to leave the warmth of Sun Flower’s body that was pressed right up against me. And I lay there, enjoyin’ that warmth for longer than usual. Just before dawn, I could hear the howl of several wolves, but they were a long ways off. While I was enjoyin’ the calm of dawn and the feel of Sun Flower next to me, I heard Raven Wing get up and get a fire started. This was ’bout the first of July, and you could see your breath, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. After good, strong coffee and a biscuit, we loaded up and continued on.

  This was the highest I’d ever been in the mountains, and the view was breathtakin’. We continued up still, climbin’ higher. The trail was nothin’ more than a small game trail most of the time, and we weren’t makin’ very good time. By midday we’d topped out on a pass, and right below us was a lake. We stopped and let the stock rest and ate. I don’t know how to describe what we were lookin’ at. The peak that was southeast of us last night was right in front of us. We were sittin’ right at timberline. The trees right by us were small and stunted, just a few feet higher on the mountain there was no trees growing at all. That peak in front of us went up in sheer rock walls for another couple of thousand feet. There was solid pines goin’ east for as far as you could see, with bare rock peaks comin’ up out of the pines just as far. You could see lakes in every swale or basin. Runnin’ Wolf told us that four different rivers started from right here, all goin’ a different direction. He told us that in just a few miles, we would come to another lake where the Duchesne River starts and we would follow it, goin’ southeast.