by Terry Grosz
One evening shortly after meeting Jim and his bunch, Josh and Gabe drew guard duty or protection of the animal herd for the evening hours. Just before dark, the two brothers heard someone above them in camp yell out, “Injuns!” However, that alarm soon turned out to be a false danger alarm because the six Indians riding into camp were Assiniboines or what were considered “friendly” types. For a long time, the Indians visited with the camping men begging tobacco and food. Later, they brought their horses to the water’s edge for a drink. When they did, Josh and Gabe, whose guards were now down because the rest of the camp had accepted the visitors as friendly, visited with their first English-speaking Indians as well. During that visit, and unfamiliar with the ways of Indians, they did not pay attention to what was truly going on around them. They did not see one of the Indians quietly leading his horse over to Josh and Gabe’s prized and beautifully marked, buckskin riding horses.
Then that Indian mounted his horse and in an instant grabbed the lead ropes of Gabe and Josh’s horses and started off at a gallop through the camp! Gabe and Josh, in conversation with the other Indians at the time, did not see the horse stealing action because of their distraction. When they realized what had transpired, it was too late! The Indian was heading through camp with their two prized riding horses at a dead run. Now realizing what was happening, they took off after the Indian horse stealer, yelling and hollering. It was at that moment the other Indians mounted up, now that Josh and Gabe were distracted, and started to stampede the rest of the party’s horses in the opposite direction.
Boom-boom-boom-boom! went the reports of four quickly firing rifles! Four of the five Assiniboine Indians trying to run off the horse herd spun out from their saddles, hitting the ground violently from the bullets’ impacts! The other Indian attempting to run off the horse herd thought better of his actions and lay low over his horse’s neck and raced for the now-darkening forest timber to his front. Boom! went another rifle shot from One-Shot, spinning that racing Indian from his saddle and to the ground in a loud crump! Then two more shots from several other trappers dropped the Indian fleeing with Gabe and Josh’s prized buckskins. The madly racing Indian was hit with such force from the two close-at-hand rifle shots that he spun violently from his saddle and into one of the camp’s blazing campfires! In so doing, the Indian knocked over the camp’s coffee pot and two surprised trappers making Dutch oven biscuits. Then all hell broke loose, as the trappers and boatmen, now realizing what was happening with the “friendly” Indians and their valuable and irreplaceable animal herd, went for their rifles.
Fortunately, Jim Johnson, who had been in like situations before, had suspected the Indians’ intentions were less than friendly and had quietly alerted the rest of his immediate party. Their alertness precluded Gabe and Josh from losing their valuable matched buckskins and the rest of the men their entire horse herd. Once everything had been sorted out, Lisa had the men throw the Indians’ bodies into the Mississippi so they would float out of sight. Then he had the dead Indians’ horses integrated into the group’s horse herd as replacement animals. Finally, he admonished Josh and Gabe for not being more watchful when assigned to watch the animal herd.
It was after that, that Jim joined Gabe and Josh during the rest of their night horse protection detail to make sure no more wool was pulled over the greenhorns’ eyes. It also gave Jim time that evening to really get to know Gabe and Josh and, in so doing, come to respect the two young aspiring Mountain Men.
The next morning, Lisa kept the group of men and their pack animals heading north and westerly at a pace just slightly faster than that of the keelboats. Come evening, he would surge ahead once again with the land contingent and animal herd at a faster pace. After a distance, he would stop and set up their prearranged evening rendezvous. By the time the keelboats had arrived, the men had killed several buffalo or elk from the many ever-present nearby herds, established their evening campsite, and had supper cooking for the hungry men. This became the daily regimen for the next two months as the men and boats traversed the many miles to their destination at the confluence of the Bighorn and Yellowstone Rivers. During those travels, the men had observed many thousands of buffalo, elk, “goats” as they called pronghorn antelope, deer, black, and grizzly bears on a daily basis. In fact, many times the land group would swing away from the river because of the close proximity and threat of female grizzlies and their cubs. Known for their ferocity and for being hard to bring down with the weapons of the day, leaving the bears alone was the perceived safest avenue taken by wise men.
Several times, Lisa had to stop his men as thousands of buffalo swam the rivers, blocking the route of their travel. In so doing, the buffalo were just trading one set of plains feeding grounds for another. Additionally, great care was taken to avoid the many known locations of tribes of unfriendly, horse-stealing Indians. That precluded violent clashes between the cultures unless trade was the “red man’s” evident mission. That being the case, Lisa would hail a keelboat to shore with trade goods on board. However, he was always careful to leave the others anchored out in the river with swivel guns at the ready in case things got nasty. Once the trading was done, the group continued moving although they stayed ever watchful of the Indians frequenting their travels because of their liking for the white man’s four-legged mode of land transport and the many trade goods that Tom’s boats carried.
This daily routine continued without letup until, after a fashion, Lisa would break out a keg of his uncut whiskey during one of their evening layovers. Then he would mix it one-to-four with creek water and the river men and riders would have a celebration on shore that evening. Now far inland, supper oftentimes consisted of rancid fried sowbelly from the boats. That was if normally close-at-hand buffalo were absent. If not, other wild game, with cooked beans, rice, hominy or fry bread, with the ever-strong and always-present coffee or sometimes tea, rounded out the evening meals. Breakfast consisted of meat uneaten from the night before or fried sowbelly, Dutch oven biscuits and coffee. Nothing was eaten generally along the way for a noonday meal except maybe jerky, pemmican—dried, pounded to a powder, meat with dried powdered fruit and rendered animal grease stored in a skin sack or bladder—or the occasional berries or plums found along the way when in season. However, supper was the big meal of the day consisting of large amounts of wild game consumed—sometimes up to ten pounds of meat per man—preferably from a cow buffalo; bulls were considered too tough, requiring hours of boiling to make their meat edible. Seldom were much in the way of spices ever used on the meats or meals other than sometimes salt and pepper with the occasional dash of allspice.
Many days traveling along the trail brought Josh, Gabe, Jim and his small group of trappers closer together. In fact, as was often the case on the frontier, close friends became almost brothers. Jim was the oldest member of the party and seemed to take kindly to Josh and Gabe, almost as if like the sons he didn’t have. Then one evening around the campfire after a heavy supper of elk steaks, biscuits and beans, Jim leaned back against his packs and lit up his pipe. After a few thoughtful pulls, Jim said, “Josh and Gabe, how would you like to throw in with me and the boys when we get to the trapping grounds as equal partners and free trappers?”
Caught unawares, Josh looked at Jim for a moment and then glanced over at his brother to see if he could read what his thoughts and response to that question would be. A huge, bearded smile from his brother told him what he had been looking for. “I think that would be great, Jim. Especially since me and my brother don’t know the lay of the land once we get there. And sure as God made green apples, we could use some help in the trapping and hide processing business, as well as understanding the Indian tribes of the area and their cultures.”
“Then it is a done deal,” said Jim. “Me and the boys here have been talking it over and figured you two would make good additions to our crew. ’Specially since the area we want to trap had best be with a big crew in order to keep the Blackfeet off their f
eed, out of our hair, and away from our horseflesh. ’Specially iffen they be facing six rifles when things get a tad dicey.”
He continued. “I don’t ’spect the two of you know where you would like to trap once we get there never havin’ been there. However, north of Fort Raymond is some good-lookin’ country called the Musselshell. It was so named by the Indians because of all the clams found in that there river. Our one trip through there several years back proved it to be excellent beaver trap- pin’ waters. Plus, it were hardly trapped at all ’cept by some of the Blackfeet, and then they used mostly deadfalls to take the critters. However, since the Blackfeet like that area as well and don’t cotton to white man since Lisa got under their skin with his trading practices, I ’spect we may run into some troubles. ’Specially iffen we try to horn in on their trapping grounds and make off with all their beaver and river otter.”
Jim continued with an impish grin. “There be a lot of griz up there, too, eatin’ all them damn mussels and that could get bad fer one man alone since they require such a heap of killin’ once they be pissed. With extra men trappin’ and lots of business ends of our rifles pokin’ at ’em, maybe we can drag those devils down without any harm cornin’ to ourselves as well. Well, that be it. Come with us and we will show you the trappin’s like you have never seed afore. And the griz and Blackfeet troubles aplenty, iffen they get their ways as well. But iffen we are successful, we could come out from there with over twenty-five pressed pack of beaver plews, usually sixty beaver or ninety pounds of beaver furs to a pack. Not to mention, all the other hides and furs we could ketch in a trappin’ season and maybe our hair, too, all in one shebang,” he said with another of his “known for” grins.
Josh and Gabe looked at each other over Jim’s words and found the excitement of adventure, danger, and new lands to be explored starting to reach clear to their innermost selves. “Count us in, Jim, that be for sure and good Lord a-willin’, we might just come out from there rich Mountain Men,” said Gabe, hugely smiling like a kid through his massive beard.
“Then consider it done. When we get to Fort Raymond, we need to quickly top off our supplies and then skedaddle north and west like a bunch of scalded cats to the Musselshell afore any of these other chaps riding with us get such an idear as well,” said Jim thoughtfully. With that said, the six men sat around their campfire talking far into the night about Indians, trapping, horse wrecks of memory, and other things considered interesting or funny. Finally, sleep overcame the men as they began shuffling off to their sleeping furs in ones and twos.
But before Jim, Josh and Gabe did, Jim said, “You two boys will find them clothes you are a wearin’ will not last fer spit out there in the wilderness. They might be all right fer around town but out in the brush and water, they won’t last longer than a pint of rum around a campfire on a cold night. I suggest when we get to Fort Raymond, we trade fer a mess of elk skins that have been well-tanned to make sure the two of you later on can have several sets of buckskins and moccasins so you can get around in the proper style. We also need to make sure we have enough iron awls fer that and other related patchwork as well. The only thing I can think of difference-wise between those store-boughts you be sportin’ and the buckskins is that they be a little warmer when wet. Buckskins you will find are damn hot in the summer and equally as cold in the winter, but we will get the two of you outfitted with some decent hats, capotes—long coats of simple design, usually made from heavy blankets, some with hoods— some buffalo robes, and a hunting coat or two afore the coldsets in. That should do it up all proper-like.” Then with a yawn and spitting his used cud of chewing tobacco into the fire, Jim abruptly dismissed himself and headed for his sleeping furs.
Josh and Gabe sat there a few more minutes as the many things said that evening just whirled around in their heads. Finally, they, too, headed for their sleeping furs as well with visions of the north country, beaver trapping, Indians, “griz,” and Mountain Men dancing a lively dance in their heads.
***
Several weeks later, the keelboats and horseback expedition arrived safely at Fort Raymond, which was nestled just back from the mouth of the Bighorn River. It wasn’t much to look at but it was a damn sight better than just lookin’ at the rolling prairie and wooded hills day after day, thought Gabe happily. It was rectangular in shape and consisted entirely of an outside log palisade with cabins and trading post safely located inside. Like most frontier forts, it was surrounded by tepees and horse herds from the local Indians with many gaily painted and dressed folks walking around in between.
With the arrival of the keelboats and riders, all hell and excitement broke loose. There was a mass of humanity from the boats and fort and horses hurriedly unloading the keelboats. That was followed by moving all the supplies into the confines of the fort for the protection it offered. Several of the boats were reloaded with the previous year’s rich harvest of furs and hides from the fort’s storehouses. Then those keelboat men selected to return made ready to quickly set sail for St. Louis before the river systems got much lower in depth. In the meantime, Gabe and Josh said good-bye to their close friend Tom over a quick horn of rum from the boat’s stores. “You boys keep your powder dry and your hind ends out from the mouths of those mad grizzly bears,” said Tom. “I will hook up with you fellows when I return and then we can have a real shindig,” he continued with a huge grin through his massive beard.
“You try and keep your raft of sticks from all those snags and sandbars,” replied Josh as he threw a small stick at his friend. With that and a full boatload of furs and hides, Tom and his crew shoved off from the makeshift landing at the fort and moved quickly into the river’s current.
After watching the boats disappear downriver around a bend, Jim and company hurriedly entered the fort among all the other jostling men from the recent expedition. That mass of humanity was then augmented with fur trappers recently in from the field to resupply and dozens of gaily decorated Indians whirling around in the fort’s confines. Swirling madness was made even more hectic by the free-flowing rum and the fort’s traders as goods were bought and sold. True to his word, Jim purchased ten beautifully dressed elk skin, so the boys could make some new clothing that was more appropriate for the field. Both Gabe and Josh noticed that the freshly dressed elk skins smelled a lot like the smoked turkeys they used to remove from their family’s old smokehouse for special occasions. Neither brother admitted it but the tanned elk skin smells brought both of them back to their earlier days before tragedy overcame their family. But that was a long time ago and now was now... Then the six men filled out their stores with enough last-minute supplies to last until the following summer. Returning to their campsite located just outside the fort’s walls, they packed their new gear and made ready for the morrow and their trip north up on the Musselshell. A river that would soon prove to be one of destiny...
Daylight the next morning, before most of the fort’s inhabitants were up and going after the late night celebration from the evening before, found the six men and their pack strings moving north and west towards what new adventures life would bring. The next four days found the group exploring the Bull Mountains and finally settling into a small wooded valley near present day Roundup, Montana, not far from the Musselshell River. Surrounding the area chosen were numerous marshes, small streams, and beaver pond areas adjacent to the Musselshell, an area that could be easily reached and rich in the animals they now sought.
Unloading their pack animals and “long staking” them so they could feed freely using ropes tied to the horses and stakes so the animals could range out to fifty feet and feed, the men commenced clearing out the ground site for a cabin on the south side of a small wooded knoll. That site was so located because they would be away from the bitter north winds that would soon howl with the commanding voice of winter. Arranging their packs and tack in a defensive circle closer to their immediate working area in case they were attacked by unfriendly Indians, the men began cutting l
odgepole pine from a nearby wooded area and dragged the logs to their cabin site.
While two men scraped out and leveled the floor area to the mineral soil with their shovels, four others cut and dragged green lodgepole pine logs to the site. Soon, larger logs were notched and arranged into the base for the cabin-to-be. Once the base logs were set, correspondingly smaller logs were laid on top of previously laid forming the walls for a cabin that was about twenty-four feet in length, twenty feet in width, and seven feet tall to accommodate the height of Josh and Gabe. With six hardworking men, the cabin fairly flew into place. Soon, smaller stringer logs laid at angles atop the ridge pole and mounds of sagebrush were being cut and laid across the closely laid stringers in order to complete the sub-roof. Once the sub-roof area was covered with stringers and a dense layer of sagebrush, two feet of dirt was shoveled from the adjacent knoll onto the roof for the protection it would offer from the harsh winter storms and drenching summer thunderstorms. With the cabin almost completed, Gabe and Josh began building tables, chairs, sleeping platforms, shooting ports, and hanging pegs along the cabin walls. They were chosen for such homemaker chores because of their skills in making such things as carpenters learned earlier from their father. The rest of the crew cut out a small opening at the south end of the cabin. There they commenced building a fireplace out of mud and sticks complete with a long, flat stone hearth for Dutch oven cooking. That work was soon followed with two large lean-tos being constructed adjacent to the cabin and a large, hell-for-stout corral to hold the trappers’ fourteen riding horses and like number of pack animals. Lastly, Josh and Gabe built outside tables and chairs, an outside campfire pit, and hung the door and window shutters, using heavy buffalo hide straps for the hinges. Then all the men cut a large pile of dead timber and dragged it adjacent to the cabin for winter firewood stocks. Finally, on the south side of the cabin, the men built several large drying racks for turning buffalo, moose and elk meat into jerky. Lastly, taking several heavily scraped deer hides, those “windows” were hung over the openings to let in diffused light but keep out rain and flying snows when winter storms arrived. That completed the cabin to the men’s satisfaction and was celebrated with a tin cup of fiery brew from a keg of rum purchased earlier at Fort Raymond for just such happy occasions.
