by Terry Grosz
Then Gabe ran up the hill to where the partners had earlier hidden their cache on the hillside above their old cabin. “Josh, our cache is still here! We now have some supplies once we dig it up. Our partners left us the cache which means they had time to get out of the cabin with their hides before the Indians burned it to the ground.”
Trotting back to the burned cabin, Gabe spent some time poking around in the ashes and turning said to his brother, “Josh, they got out with all their supplies. There isn’t anything metal left here in the ashes showing that all was lost in the fire. That is why they left us the cache hoping we would get away and return to the cabin. They must have figured we was captured and if they didn’t want the same, they had best leave and fast. Damn if old Griz and Big-Eye were not looking out for us by leaving the cache. They knowed no one else knowed where it twas. Then thinking if we lived, we would need the goods and stores buried there so they let it be. Damn, those guys did good since all we have now is a few traps, a couple Indian horses, their nigh-useless trade rifles, and our own rifles and possibles. With what we buried if it is not ruined, we can make a go of it until the summer. Then we can maybe hook up with Lisa at the fort or on the bend of the Yellowstone. If we do, we can collect on the credit he owes us, then make an even better go of it.”
“That may be so, Brother, but if you don’t keep your danged voice down, we may still get our hair lifted,” said Josh quietly.
“What say you, Brother, that we dig up the cache and see what has survived. Then make tracks south and east towards the Yellowstone and friendly Crow Indian territory. We can trap beaver on the Yellowstone and in its surrounding beaver ponds the rest of this fall and winter. Then come summer, we can hook up with Lisa, get our supplies and we will be set,” said a now very happy and excited Gabriel.
Josh just had to smile. Leave it to my younger brother to always find the silver lining in any cloud, he thought. But in essence, he was right. That was the best way to go if we couldjust get out of this high country with all our horses, gear, and our hair, he mused.
***
That evening eating venison cooked over a small fire designed not to attract any visitors, be it grizzly, Blackfoot or varmint, the men looked over the array of goods just retrieved from the cache. The firearms buried earlier were in great shape having weathered the time spent underground, thanks in large part to the oil being liberally applied prior to caching. The powder, lead, balls, and bags of flints were found to be “fine as frog’s hair” as well. Some of the leather goods were a bit moldy, as was the packsaddle, but they were still usable. The cooking pots were a bit rusted but serviceable, just as soon as they could find a sandy creek and scour them out. The knives, axes, shovel, farrier tools, axes, and other metal goods were surprisingly alright as well, as were the extra cached traps. However, the fishhooks, horseshoe nails and the extra awls were lost causes due to being stored in a location of the cache that had leaked rainwater. The cached extra goods would now be Josh and Gabe’s salvation because they still had the fall and winter trapping season ahead of them before there would be any relief supply come the summer months of 1813.
Leaving what was left of their old home place for the last time, Gabe and Josh paid their last respects at the nearby gravesite of their old friend, Al Johnson, a good Mountain Man and friend who had been killed earlier by an enraged sow grizzly bear. Then heading to the south, they traveled through the Bull Mountains eventually arriving at Fort Raymond. There they paused for a quick look-see just in case Lisa had returned. It was still deserted and forlorn looking so the men continued their travels to the southeast towards the Yellowstone. Stopping near the current day Town of Forsyth, Montana, the Dents headed for the cover of a wooded draw near the Yellowstone River and set up their winter camp.
For the next two weeks, the men labored building a small cabin and lean-to in a dense stand of cottonwoods off the beaten path. That was followed with the building of a small corral for their four horses and a large winter woodpile. The woodpile was placed in such a manner that it doubled as concealment for the front of their cabin from any prying eyes traveling along the Yellowstone.
Then the Dents sallied forth on the nearby plains and made meat from the numerous buffalo herds frequenting the area for their winter’s food supply. During those hunts, the brothers also ran across many friendly bands of Crow Indians also out hunting for their winter meat supplies. Many times they even joined forces in running the buffalo over buffalo jumps. With that kind of successful activity, their little cabin began looking like their cabin of old when it came to numerous bags of dried jerky hanging from the ridgepole of the cabin along with smoked bear hams and buffalo hump ribs.
Come fall and early winter when the beaver were in their prime, the brothers were busily trapping the waters and tributaries of the Yellowstone River. Once again, their cabin became crowded with peltries from their successful trapping ventures. Then winter arrived with its many icy blasts and the brothers pulled their traps and retreated to their cabin for their usual downtime. Because of their friendships with the nearby various bands of Crow, they continued hunting buffalo together throughout winter. That gave the brothers something to do in the hide preparation process for the summer trades if Lisa was to return.
One winter morning after freeze-up, Gabe stepped out from the cabin to get a kettleful of snow to melt for making coffee. In so doing, he ran smack dab into a small band of Crow Indians sitting quietly on their horses in front of the cabin. Dropping his kettle, realizing he was defenseless without a weapon, he started to run back into the cabin for one. Then he recognized one of the Indians named Buffalo Calf who was his friend. Realizing his mistake and how foolish he must have looked in the eyes of the Indians trying to run back into the cabin for his rifle, he gave a lame sign of peace. His friend Buffalo Calf, in sign, reminded him that he had jumped like a bug on a hot rock when surprised by the Crow warriors and with that, all the men had a good laugh at Gabe’s expense.
After a good laugh was had by all, the men dismounted and within moments the entire band of strongly smelling individuals were jammed into the small cabin begging for coffee. Soon, coffee was served with copious amounts of brown cone sugar from the old cabin’s hidden underground cache, which was then followed by breakfast. Since it would have been poor manners not to do so, Gabe and Josh fixed breakfast. However, they soon found themselves quickly running out of their precious few flour supplies. But in the spirit of friendship, they continued until all their flour was gone. Little did either brother realize how fortuitous serving up all that flour would later become...
Finishing breakfast, Buffalo Calf invited Josh and Gabe on a buffalo hunt with his warriors. That offer was quickly accepted in order to clear out their cabin of all the “empty guts” eating up their precious food supplies. Plus, there was always a need for good, fresh buffalo meat, no matter who you were. After the hunt, all the men ended up back at Buffalo Calf’s Crow village to celebrate the successful hunt. Those times also included storytelling and consumption of great slabs of freshly roasted buffalo meat with much belching. When it came time to leave, Buffalo Calf’s sister, a young women of nineteen, gave Gabe a bag of flour and one of commeal from their stores in “thanks” for feeding her always-hungry brother and his “empty-gutted” friends earlier. Her gift had come from supplies her family had traded for from Lisa before he left. Gabe found himself, for the first time, looking hard at the fully developed and beautiful Little Fawn with a longing he had never felt... Josh also found it hard to keep his eyes off the beautiful sister of Buffalo Calf, until he saw his older sister, Cone Flower. After that, Gabe and Josh found it difficult not to find reasons to visit the Crow Indian village every chance they got the rest of that winter, to see and visit with Buffalo Calf of course...
***
Come spring of 1813 and ice-out, found Josh and Gabe busily trapping every beaver they could take. That rush to capture every furbearer they could take was rewarded one afternoon as they t
rapped along the Yellowstone. Looking up, they chanced seeing three heavily loaded keelboats slowly making their way upriver. Standing on the bank, they waved at the boat crew on the first boat and with a return shout the heavily loaded vessel moved slowly towards shore. Off stepped a man mountain named Tom Warren who was more than happy to see his two old friends as they were him! Soon the second keelboat pulled into shore and with that, a lively noonday meal was begun. To the fresh foodstuffs from the keelboats was added meat from a freshly killed cow buffalo taken earlier by Josh. As the third and last keelboat pulled to shore with both its swivel cannons manned in case of unforeseen trouble, off stepped Manuel Lisa. He, too, was happy to see two of his old free trappers from earlier expeditions, still alive, kicking and most especially, trapping. “Josh, Gabe, you two boys be sure and bring your furs to the fort this year. I now have enough men coming up behind us to guard my fort and no longer fear the British or the Blackfeet. So make sure you show up for some of my good whiskey and roast oxen!” said an excited-to-be-back-in-country Lisa. (In fact, Lisa was so happy to be back that he did not return to St. Louis or his family until late in the summer of 1815!)
“You can count on it,” said Gabe, “because we are so low on supplies, especially foodstuffs, powder and lead.”
Lisa replied, “You both know your credit is good with me. In fact, I am still carrying a balance on my books just as the two of you had asked me to do sometime back. Remember?”
“We sure do,” said Gabe. “Against some of that balance, we sure could use some powder, lead, flour, sugar, salt, commeal, horseshoes, and ‘shoe’ nails. We lost all we had of those kinds of items after being captured by the Blackfeet a while back up on our trapping grounds on the Musselshell,” he continued.
“John,” yelled Lisa at a man sitting on the gunnel of one of the keelboats next to his swivel cannon. “I am going to send one of these men aboard for some supplies. See to it he gets what he needs.”
With that, Gabe went aboard and soon returned with a large armload of goods followed by one of the keelboat men with another large load as well. Then the boatman Tom Warren, carrying a small keg of brandy as promised a summer earlier for his trapper friends, jumped off the boat with a grin to match his massive size.
Later sitting around the fire drinking and smoking, Tom looked over at the trappers’ horses and said, “Damn, those sure are good-looking buckskins the two of you are sporting.”
“At one time afore he was killed, we got them off our uncle’s farm back in Missouri. Then when we got captured by the Blackfeet, they was captured. Then we escaped and got ambushed again by four Blackfeet when we were afoot, which we all killed. When we found their hidden horses, they had brought back our two buckskins. So, you see, we have a history with those horses and we will never be rid of them unless someone kills us and takes them,” said Gabe. “They are the best horses we could ever have. They are smart, not afraid of being fired from while in full gallop with a rifle, and come to us when we whistle,” continued Gabe. “Like I said, the only ways we would give up those horses was if someone kills us and takes them,” he said coldly. “And that ain’t going to happen unless someone back shoots us.”
“They sure are as hell are lookers,” said Warren as he petted the animals.
Then Lisa, who was a real lover of good horseflesh, got into the conversation as he walked over to look at Gabe’s magnificent buckskin. Running his hands down the horse’s legs and across his back for conformation, Lisa then parted the animal’s lips and looked at his teeth. “Tell you what, Gabe. I will give you any three of my horses, your choice, when I get the herd still coming upriver back at the fort. Plus, I will give you your pick of any rifle and necessaries I have in stock for this fine seven-year-old, in its prime, animal.”
Gabe just looked at Lisa and with an easy laugh said, “Like I told Tom here. No way will I ever part with that horse unless someone kills me first and takes him,” said Gabe.
“Alright,” said Lisa. “But if you change your mind, let me know,” he said with one more wishful run of his hands over the back of the horse. Little did they realize, the next time any one of them saw that buckskin without Gabe, it would represent mortality, and ... the ultimate act of taking vengeance by one of those men present, who was Gabe and Josh’s friend...
Then Tom swung his eyes over to Gabe’s fancy rifle. “Are you ever going to sell me that rifle?” he asked Gabe with a knowing smile on his face.
“Just like my horse, Tom. When that rifle is in someone else’s hands, that means they had to kill me to get it. And I hope that ain’t for a long time in coming. I managed to get it back after the Blackfeet had captured us and I no more want to part with this rifle for any reason. As far as I am concerned, it is ‘family.’”
With that, the talk turned to the food that was now ready and the trappers and keelboatmen fell to with gusto. Then Tom looked around and said, “Say, now that I think of it, where is Griz and Big-Eye? The four of you were always together. Why are they not here?”
Gabe, mouthing a big piece of hot buffalo meat and unable to answer, pointed his finger to his brother for a response. Josh just grinned at his always-hungry brother, saying, “They be trapping elsewheres. After Gabe and I were captured by the Blackfeet and their allies, the British from the Hudson’s Bay Fur Company, they loaded up before we got back and burned our cabin to the ground so the Indians could not make use of it while on the trail. Our best guess is they was headed for safer trapping far to the south of the Musselshell. I guess they figured we was already dead and not wanting to join us, just loaded up and skedaddled for safer and friendlier trappins’. But we had an emergency cache at our old cabin site and they left that untouched on the off chance we would escape and return. Sure glad they did because those supplies from the cache are what got us to here. And since our arrival, we are doing right well with our beaver trapping, as we speak.”
“Well, I be damned. Never figured the four of you would split up, but I sure can see why once the two of you ‘horses’ was captured. I doubt I would have given you a ‘plug nickel’ for your chances either, once those killing Blackfeet had your hides in their hands,” continued Tom.
“By the way, Tom. Me and my brother when we were captured by the Blackfeet finally saw Black Bill and his three brothers. They was with them damn British and Scottish from the Hudson’s Bay Company. When we was tied to poles waiting for the Blackfeet to have at us, they came into our tepee. Once there, they beat us black and blue. But being tied up and all, we were unable to get at them. Then when we escaped, I guess they went back to their friends the British, at the Hudson’s Bay Company forts up in Canada. So, we are still looking for them and now, me and my brother have other reasons for wanting to kill them. Especially in light of the fact that they chose to beat us while we was tied up and couldn’t defend ourselves,” said Josh with steely determination in the tenor of his voice.
With those revelations, Tom just shook his bearded face. “Someday I hope you fellas find and kill those vermin. Sure sounds like that is what they need.”
***
The rest of the afternoon went far into the night as the men visited, smoked, and continued eating. Finally, everyone returned to the keelboats for the protection they offered as they moved off into the center of the river and then dropped anchor. As for Tom, Gabe, and Josh, they visited throughout the night until dawn. Then the three of them stoked up the fire and slabbed the remains of the previous day’s buffalo and heated the coffee for breakfast for the rest of the boat crew.
Waving good-bye, Josh and Gabe returned to their trapping as the keelboats swung easily out into the current and began their labored trip upriver towards Fort Raymond. Watching until the keelboats moved out of sight, the brothers then packed their newly acquired and much-needed supplies on their pack animals. After checking and setting the last of their traps, the two brothers headed for their cabin and plew-hooping duties.
Who knows, thought Gabe with a smile as they head
ed for their cabin, there may be a drink or two of brandy from that keg Tom had brought to go with our supper this evening as well.
Soon thereafter, the beaver went out of their prime and the brothers pulled their traps. After compressing the stacks of beaver plews, Gabe tied them into individual packs weighing about ninety pounds each, while Josh kept his weight on top of the pile to aid in their compression. Soon, the brothers had three packs of plews ready to be transported as a result of their hard work during their abbreviated trapping season. Then loading up the rest of their possessions, the brothers headed up the Yellowstone towards the mouth of the Bighorn River and the reopened Fort Raymond for another trading and visiting session.
CHAPTER TWELVE : FORT RAYMOND — CROW TERRITORY — WIVES!
As Gabe and Josh rode onto Fort Raymond’s grounds, they noticed about twenty Crow tepees from Buffalo Calf’s band camped just outside its gates. Then Josh spotted Cone Flower returning from a nearby spring, struggling as she carried a heavy iron kettle full of water.
“Here, Gabe,” said Josh as he quickly handed the reins of his pack animal to his brother. Then gallantly, he spurred his horse over to where Cone Flower was struggling with the heavy kettle. Leaping in a manly fashion from his still-moving horse in a flourish of “show off,” Josh, as he landed, caught the toe of his moccasin on an unseen prickly pear cactus. When the many cactus needles stabbed into his toes, he jumped high into the air with a loud howl and grabbed his injured foot. Still being rapidly propelled from the inertia of his moving horse, Josh found himself now crow-hopping forward in pain across the ground. That caused him to collide with Cone Flower knocking the kettle of water from her hands. Ploosh! went the kettle of water and ker-plop! went Josh headfirst into the spilled puddle of water and mud. Up he sprang from the slop only to slip once again in the mud and head back down once again. Trying to avoid another unseemly spill, he reached for Cone Flower’s outstretched hands to steady himself. Grabbing hold, he slipped once again in the mud and this time, because of his weight, slammed her lithe figure into the muddy puddle with himself as well!
