by Terry Grosz
As the Indians huddled a short distance away drinking from a small creek and eating jerky, Gabe looked over at Josh and quietly whispered, “What happened?”
Josh, still feeling the effects of the slam on the head with a tomahawk, said, “I was watching you instead of keeping a sharp eye peeled when all of a sudden I saw this Indian rise out from the brush. With my attention on him, I got hit on the head from the other side. I suspect the Indian I saw rise out from the brush was a decoy and while looking at him and getting ready to shoot, another came at me from the side and hit me in the head. That was the last thing I remember. Sorry I didn’t do what I was supposed to do, Gabe.”
“If you had done anything else, with their numbers, I think they would have just killed us. As luck would have it, you did the right thing. Where do you think they are taking us?” whispered Gabe.
“Don’t rightly know, but I suspect to some village where they live,” Josh replied with a grimace like he was still feeling the ill effects of the vicious tomahawk strike to his head.
Then a large, pot-bellied Indian arose from the group of warriors, ambled over to Josh and then to the brothers’ surprise, relieved himself on Josh’s head. In so doing, he elicited much laughter from his brethren looking on.
“If I ever survive, you will die for that, you pus-gutted Indian,” said Josh through gritted, and now salty-tasting teeth.
With a kick to his head that started the bleeding all over once again, “Pus Gut” and another Indian lifted Josh, placing him once again over the back of his horse. The other two smaller Indians, with a lot of difficulty, lifted Gabe from the ground and placed him belly down on his horse as well. Then the brothers were tied to the horses so they wouldn’t fall off. For the next several hours, the men rode in silence over the back of their horses hoping the uncomfortable ride would soon be over. That hope was soon forthcoming.
Rounding a bend in a small stream they had been following, the party rode out into a large meadow full of gaily decorated tepees. Soon crowds of women and children plus many camp dogs were running alongside the war party as they rode into the center of the camp. Along the way, it seemed every Indian woman and child had a stick with which to poke or hit the two hapless prisoners. Stopping in front of a tepee with a long lance stuck into the ground by the tent flap lined with eagle feathers, the warriors stopped.
An older and smallish but well-built man stepped out from the tepee. Glancing over at his four warriors and the two prisoners tied over the horses, he signed a greeting. Then the tribal elder walked over to where Gabe was tied over the horse. Stopping, he grabbed the trapper’s long hair and jerked his head up so he could look at the man brought in by his warriors. With a grunt, he dropped Gabe’s head after a long look and then did the same to Josh. Saying something in the Blackfoot language, the elder entered his tepee and the two trappers were dragged off their horses and dragged roughly away to another tepee. The trappers discovered it to be empty. Then the warriors brought the trappers’ riding saddles, their mule’s packsaddle, their rifles, pistols, and possibles bags into the tepee. These were carefully laid at the far side of the tepee out of reach of the trappers. Next the brothers were tied up even tighter and lashed in standing, separate positions to opposite support poles deeply sunken into the ground in the tepee. Afterwards, the men were left alone as the braves exited the tepee.
Outside, it sounded to the prisoners like preparations were underway for a big celebration by the tribe. As it turned out, large fires were being built, cooking pots were filled, and large chunks of fresh buffalo meat were being staked around the fires. Several hours later, the camp noise increased in volume as four British trappers from the Hudson’s Bay Fur Company rode into camp trailing two packhorses loaded with kegs of whiskey and other trade goods. Behind them trailed several other trappers. One of those men was a large man with a long-flowing black beard! Behind him rode three other men! Within minutes, two British representatives from the fur company were led into the tepee holding Josh and Gabe.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” asked a large white man with a heavy Scottish accent. “Laddies, it appears you have gotten yourselves into a heap of trouble,” said one of the white men. “After these savages get themselves all liquored up, I wouldn’t give a Sovereign for your continued good luck,” he continued with raucous laughter.
“Well, laddies, I be saying my prayers if I be you,” said the other white man in a heavily burred accent as well, clucking his tongue as if to accentuate the trouble Josh and Gabe were in. With that and several more loud laughs, out the flap of the tepee the two Hudson’s Bay representatives went to join the growing- ever-louder party ongoing outside.
Then the tent flap parted and into the tepee strode Black Bill with his brothers Lem, Stilt and Clio! “Well, well, well. What do we have here? Gee, my brothers, it appears the two Missouri Constables who have been trailing us all these years have been finally run to ground. They sure don’t looks so tough to me now. In fact, they look as soft as did their ma when she laid under all of us bringing us the pleasure she did. Sure too bad their kin died that day.” With that, Black Bill walked over to Gabe and gave him a swift kick into his groin. Gabe, surprised at Black Bill’s action, could only groan in intense pain since he was so tightly tied to his stake. Then Bill walked over to Josh and delivered the same blow to him. Josh groaned and then passed out in intense pain as Bill’s kick ran true. Bill’s three brothers spent the next few minutes striking the restrained men in the face and body with well-delivered blows. Soon, Gabe and Josh felt nothing as they drifted off into blackness.
“Hey, laddies. We must not hurt our Indian brothers’ newfound friends. For it is up to them to extract the full measure from the likes of these lads for trapping on their lands and being the dogs they are,” said one of the Hudson’s Bay Factors as he entered the tent. “It wouldn’t be good manners to kill these American dogs before our Indian brothers get to do so.”
With those words, the beatings stopped and the five men exited the tepee laughing as the outside Indian noise rose in crescendo. Noise elevated to excitement now that the kegs of whiskey brought for the Blackfeet had now been opened and were being happily drained by the Indian men and their Hudson’s Bay representatives.
Twenty minutes later, the two badly beaten brothers came to from their vicious beatings. “Josh, we had better do something or else we may not be long for this world once those bucks get all liquored up,” said Gabe. “Besides, I want to live so I can take Black Bill and his kin on one by one and tear them to pieces,” uttered Gabe with a tone in his voice not from his world... With that, he tried to loosen the ties on his wrists tied to the tepee pole with a thrust of his powerful arms. His efforts were fruitless and to no avail.
Looking at the ties on his wrists, Josh began spitting blood from a heavily bleeding mouth from his recent beating. “What the dickens are you doing?” asked Gabe through a badly bleeding mouth as well. “This is no time to start spitting. We need a knife or something sharp.”
“Leather stretches when it gets wet, Gabe. If I were you, I would start spitting on your bindings as well. If we can get our ties wet, they may stretch and we can slip out of them,” said Josh as he spewed more spittle and blood on his wrist ties. For the next hour as the party outside got louder, the “party” on the inside of the tepee continued to spit on their leather ties as if their lives depended on it...
Then Gabe pulled for all his might with his incredible strength on his dampened leather ties. They stretched just a bit and he was able to get them closer to his mouth. More spitting followed and soon with another pull, the leather thong tied to the pole was next to his open mouth! It was close enough that he was able to start chewing on the ties. Soon, skin came off his wrists from chewing and some blood from that source began to flow on the leather as well. Moments later, he had chewed through one soaked leather tie and in a moment his wrists were loose! Reaching down, he untied his leg ties and then he was free!
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nbsp; Carefully looking through the partially open tepee flap, he could see the party outside was in full swing and no one was any the wiser on what was going on inside their tepee. Quickly sneaking over to his brother, he untied his hands and leaving him to untie his own feet, sneaked over to their rifles and pistols stacked at the far side of the tepee. Goods that had been undoubtedly left to be given out as gifts later after the trappers had been disposed of. Gabe quickly checked his rifle and found it empty of powder and ball. When he was knocked out, the Indians must have fired his rifle, he thought. Grabbing his powder horn and possibles bag, it was hurriedly refilled and reloaded. Then he checked all the other weapons and filled them with powder and ball as was necessary. By then, Josh was at his side, and as the men rearmed themselves and slid their possibles bags over their shoulders, they could hear the party now getting even noisier outside, especially when the Hudson’s Bay representatives opened up another keg of whiskey to the roaring delight of the warriors with their empty tin cups.
“Gabe, cut our way out from the back of the tepee while I watch the front,” said Josh as he crouched by the open flap with his rifle and pistols at the ready.
Gabe hurriedly but quietly began cutting a slit out the rear of the tepee only stopping when he heard a soft, fleshy crump behind him! Quickly turning, he saw his brother dragging a drunken lone Indian off to one side from the inside tepee flap. The Indian had looked in on his prisoners only to find the crunching end of a rifle butt slammed onto the side of his head resulting in a blow that was fatal. As it further turned out, the man with the caved- in head just so happened to be the pot-bellied Indian that had urinated on Josh’s head back on the trail...
“Hurry, Gabe,” loudly whispered Josh as he took hurried glances out the small tepee opening. Then to avoid detection, he quietly pulled the tepee flap shut.
Finishing his cut, Gabe poked his head out the rear of the tepee and quickly looked around. Luckily, the tepee was on the outside of the village near a stream located in the bottom of a draw near the tribe’s horse herd. Turning, he said, “Let’s go, Brother.”
With that, both men hurried out from the rear of the tepee, down the bank and quietly into the swiftly flowing stream. Without a moment’s hesitation, both men sneaked down the middle of the stream in a crouch in order not to be seen or leave any trail. Once outside the encampment and out of eyesight, the two men ran down the stream as hard as they could go for at least a mile. Coming to the mouth of another stream that emptied into their stream, they took that one and began trotting upstream in the basic direction of their cabin now many miles distant. When that stream petered out, they stepped from rock to rock until it was so dark that that method of not leaving any tracks became impossible.
“Well, it is now or never,” said Gabe as he stepped off his last rock. Then he took off across the countryside as fast as night travel would allow. They used the familiar trapper’s run of one hundred yards and walking fifty in order to be able to go for many miles before tiring out. In so doing, they had put many miles behind them.
Daylight found the two brothers still moving rapidly through the countryside but now in the cover of deep timber. Finally realizing they had to rest, they trotted up to a knoll heavily strewn with large boulders and thick stands of bitter brush and mountain mahogany. Finding the best hiding place, they lay down so they could watch their back trail and gamer some much-needed rest. As it turned out, that was their home for the next few days because they soon discovered many Blackfoot warriors swarming through the countryside hotly looking for their escaped prisoners. Many times the searching parties came close to the brothers’ hiding place, but none ever rode up to their little fortress of rocks and dense brush for a look-see. That was probably just as well for the searchers because in Josh and Gabe’s state of mind, the first six finders would have died in their tracks... Finally, on the fifth day since their escape, and eating only plants and what small critters they could catch with their hands in order not to give themselves away, their luck ran out.
“Hi-yi-yi-yi!” screamed a Blackfoot warrior not six feet from Gabe who was now kneeling by a beaver pond digging up tubers for him and his brother to eat. Smashing into Gabe, the speed and weight of the Blackfoot propelled both men across the bank and into the beaver pond with a loud splash! Turning underneath the Indian, Gabe pulled his knife while underwater and slashed at the assailant’s soft underbelly. He could hear a gurgling scream underwater when his knife reached the man’s vitals.
Pushing up out of the water and blowing hard for air, Gabe stabbed down through the back of the now-struggling Indian just to make sure. Then he heard the sounds of other struggles up on the bank as his brother was in a fight for his life with three more Indians!
Hurriedly splashing out from the beaver pond, Gabe ran to the pile of fighting men, grabbed an Indian by the head and with a twist, heard the satisfying snap of the Indian’s neck breaking. Throwing that Indian off to one side and in a killing mood he had not felt since he killed one of the Jenkins clan as he raided a smokehouse back in Missouri, Gabe grabbed another Indian. In grabbing that Indian, he did so just as the Indian was trying to plunge his knife into his brother. Jerking the man clear up into the air high over his head, he flung the unfortunate to the ground with such force it broke both the man’s arms as he tried to break his fall. With those loud snaps resulting in compound fractures, the man screamed in pain only to have his scream stifled with a gurgle as Gabe’s knife cut his throat clear to the spine. That move spewed the man’s essence over everything...
Turning, Gabe was surprised to find his brother standing up and scalping his now-dying and screaming-in-pain assailant as his sharp knife tore across the top of the man’s head that relieved the Indian of half his luxurious head of hair. The scalped man’s screaming stopped when Josh slit his throat clear to his spine.
Heavily breathing, Josh said, “Well, that settles the problem of us being afoot. As I see it, we now have two riding horses and two spares if they haven’t run off in the excitement of the killing that just took place. Now we just have to backtrack these Indians and see where they tied off their horses before they attacked us.”
Both men grinned and then fell into each other’s arms in a glad-to-be-alive hug. After retrieving the first warrior from the pond, the brothers scalped the other three Indians on the bank, and left all four of them where they fell. Then Josh began backtracking the four Indians and soon discovered their horses tied off in a dense stand of timber near the beaver pond. That discovery really made their day. Tied off in that bunch of horses were the brothers’ two matched buckskins! In the initial earlier contact with the Indians when they had been captured, the brothers had lost their prized buckskins. Now they had them back! It seems two of their recent assailants had been the ones to receive the brothers’ horses after they had escaped. Now fortune really smiled on the brothers as the two horses snickered their recognition of their masters. And the two brothers spent several precious minutes in their happiness with their arms wrapped around their horses’ necks returning their affections!
Then the brothers rode off towards their cabin on their horses, along with the Indians’ horses, looking hopefully for a reunion with Griz, Big-Eye and Flower but not before stealthily visiting their old trapping sites and reclaiming their valuable traps they had set days earlier before being captured. Next to firearms, traps were some of the most valuable items on the frontier; hence the extra effort made by the men for retrieval, especially if one made a living by his prowess as a beaver trapper...
CHAPTER ELEVEN : THE CACHE AND PARTNERS NO MORE
Later the following evening, the brothers arrived quietly back at their cabin. It had taken longer than expected to get there because the woods were still alive with roving bands of Blackfoot Indians trying to rid their country of all the American trappers and recover their two escapees. And since the brothers had wisely taken a circuitous route back to their cabin to avoid its discovery, it had meant a longer time in the s
addle.
Swinging the corner below their cabin on their mounts, the Dent Brothers stopped in their tracks in surprise! Their cabin was no more! Cradling their rifles retrieved from the tepee when captured, the brothers slowly rode up to where their cabin had stood for several years. Now it was nothing more than a pile of burned timbers and roof dirt. The lean-tos had also been burned to the ground in the cabin fire and the horse corral had been tom down. It was obvious to Josh and Gabe that the Blackfeet had discovered their cabin and seen to it that it was no more.
But what about Griz, Big-Eye and Flower? The brothers looked all around and could find no evidence of their deaths or of a fight prior to their cabin being burned. Then the brothers poked around in the cabin’s ashes to see if they could find any signs of bodies from a battle. Again, no bodies were discovered.
Gabe spotted a post that had been split in half and driven into the ground in such a manner that it would be observed by anyone with a sharp eye near the cabin’s remains. Walking over to the post, he noticed that it had some rough-looking writing on it.
“Josh, lookee here. Someone has taken a piece of charcoal and ‘writ’ on this here post,” said an excited Gabe as he walked over to it for closer examination. “Well, I be jiggered,” he said after reading the words on the post as his brother now warily sat guard on his horse. “Josh, it says, ‘2 many Inds-gon S-cache.’ Griz and the rest must still be alive. I read the sign as saying, ‘Too many Indians, gone south-cache.’”
(Griz, Big-Eye Ed Collins and Flower did indeed go south into the current State of Wyoming to continue trapping and living as Mountain Men. There years later, Big-Eye was killed by a band of Blackfeet. Griz and Flower than hooked up with another trapper and Mountain Man named “Hatchet Jack” Kelly and his Indian wife. They continued trapping until they wore out. Then all of them moved back to St. Louis and, with their trapping proceeds, opened up a successful fur buying and hide business along with an emporium supplying goods for those venturing west.)
