by Terry Grosz
Days later, the Dent Brothers, their wives and their Crow Indian friends arrived at Fort Raymond’s grounds. Riding in, they were just in time to witness a heated horse race between several trappers. As always, the fort’s festivities during the summer months were in full swing now that the beaver were out of prime when the many trappers and Indians streamed into the area for the usual eating, drinking, and hell raising associated with an early version of a summer rendezvous. Staking out a claim on land next to the spring where Josh had earlier tangled with the prickly pear cactus trying to help Cone Flower, the contingent pitched their tepees. Soon, Josh and Gabe found themselves mingling with a noisy crowd inside the fort. As usual, there were many groups of trappers and Indians gathered around the drinking kegs and roasting oxen. On the far side of the fort near the storehouse, other groups of trappers were wrangling with traders over the qualities of furs and hides being graded. Associated with that were the usual loud voices fueled with the fort’s potent brand of trapper’s whiskey over decisions as to the values of those furs and hides. Standing stately off to one side stood Manuel Lisa happily watching the results of the trappers’ hard labors flowing into his company’s storage houses and ultimately coins gathered from such trades soon to be flowing into his pockets.
Lisa, spying Gabe and Josh, quickly walked over to his old friends. “Glad to see that the two of you survived another winter in this great land of ours,” he said with his usual “trader’s misleading smile.”
“That makes the three of us,” said Gabe as he shook Lisa’s hand in his huge bear paw of a mitt. Lisa winced over the crushing handshake but managed not to show his discomfort at almost losing his hand to the genial giant and a bit of face along with it.
“You boys bring me a lot of good quality furs this year?” asked Lisa with a hopeful grin.
“That all depends,” said Josh with a more than mischievous grin. “That will depend on how badly you want to scalp us this year,” he continued.
“Well, Boys, my pay-out prices have been tempered this year by the higher prices I must pay that scallywag Tom Warren for what he is charging me to bring his keelboats this far upriver,” said Lisa with a not-so-convincing look.
Gabe looked over at his brother to see how he reacted to Lisa’s remark about ultimately paying less for their furs this year due to higher drayage fees for use of Tom’s keelboats. For once Josh’s face was totally expressionless. “What be the price being paid for a high-quality ‘blanket-sized’ beaver pelt this year?” asked Josh slowly.
“I kin give you a dollar less this year because of what I have to pay bringing my trade goods this far,” replied Lisa. “And only twenty-five cents for each muskrat skin and seventy-five cents per deerskin,” he continued with a sly, not-to-be-misread grin.
“Them prices be crooked as a dog’s hind leg and you know it,” growled Gabe as his brother nodded in agreement. It was then that Josh noticed his old friend Tom Warren, the owner of the keelboats, standing a short distance behind Lisa. As he quietly stood there, he gave them a sign with his finger like a knife moving across one’s top knot like one would do when being scalped, relating to the discussion at hand... That was all it took for Josh to make up his mind on a soon-to-be wild venture. One that was to prove not as fortuitous as he had hoped for, but deadly in its final circumstances...
Without another word to Lisa, Josh stepped over to Tom Warren and vigorously shook his powerful hand as did Gabe. In so doing, they left whether they would trade with Lisa up in the air, to that man’s way of thinking.
“Good to see that you two old rodents survived another winter up here in this God-forsaken land,” said Tom with a happy grin at seeing his friends once again. “What say we go over and slop up some of Lisa’s free drink and talk over old times,” said Tom, with a wink meant for the two trappers to follow him.
“What about trading your furs with me this season?” asked a now-perplexed Manuel Lisa over what he considered an untimely interruption.
“We will discuss that after we have had something to drink and eat,” replied Josh over his shoulder as the three men walked away.
Lisa got a big grin on his face over hearing those words. His free whiskey and food always did loosen up the trappers from their furs, and he figured the Dent Brothers would fare no better than many of the others, especially after several snootfuls of his fiery whiskey. Yes, he could wait, he thought with a smug grin.
Walking over to the much-gathered-about kegs of free whiskey, Tom, Gabe, and Josh filled their tin cups to the brims with the fiery liquid and then walked off so they could talk privately. Sitting on a log by one of the several outdoor fire pits, the three men broke into discussion.
“Boys, I have not raised my shipping rates as that old scoundrel Lisa told you back there. They are the same as I charged him last year and he is just using that lie to raise his prices and cheat you hardworking folks even more,” said Tom with a disgusted look.
“Tom, I have a proposal,” said Josh. “I just thought of this after Lisa advised he was paying even less for our hard- won labors than last year. What say you take our furs down to St. Louis, sell them and bring back our supplies next year when you make your annual return? As it stands right now, we have nearly enough supplies to carry us through most of this coming year. I figure we can trade our buffalo hides to get what we urgently need. Then as our last resort, we can use up the last of the credit Lisa owes us to fill out the remainder of our needs. If you take our pelts and plews down to St. Louis and trade them at fair prices, we will be ahead of that old herd bull, Lisa,” he continued. “And in order to be fair, you take out your costs from the furs sold and we will still be ahead,” he added as an afterthought.
“That I would love to do, Boys, but I can’t. You see, Lisa will have my two boats stacked to the gunnels with all the pelts and hides he will take in while here at the fort. With that, I won’t hardly have enough room for me and the boys to stand or sleep on our ways back. Sorry I can’t help, but I just won’t have any room on my boats for your furs as suggested. And being under contract to the old cheat, I can’t break my word on that either if I want to continue in the riverboat business in the future. Plus he always makes me carry a few supplies back downriver, in case we run into other trappers along the way on the river who need to make a trade for their yearly supplies. As you can see, the old cheat has planned for every which way to make a dollar off you trappers.”
“Well, I kinda figured the same but thought I would give it a go in asking anyways,” said Josh slowly. “That being the case, we will just have to take our furs to St. Louis ourselves!” he continued. All Gabe could do was just look on in amazement over this huge change of plans just made by his older brother.
“Brother, we really goin’ to St. Louis with our furs?” asked Gabe with a tinge of excitement rising in his voice.
“That is the way I see it. Especially now with the double sets of plews we are packing from our trappin’s and trading, plus those we got from the two dead, back shot trappers. If we were ever going to St. Louis to make a profit, now would be the time because we are carrying a small fortune in furs once we get them back into St. Louis,” said Josh with a tone of finality in his voice. “Besides, things are a-changing out here on the frontier. Who knows, we might just like what we see back in civilization and stay a spell,” he slowly added as an afterthought. “After all, we could buy some land with our profits and go into the horse-raising business since almost everyone is looking for good horseflesh in this day and age,” he added.
For a moment, there was silence around the campfire, then Tom said, “That might be a wise thing to do. The prices for furs and hides in St. Louis are higher than a dog’s back in a three- way catfight. You boys would stand to make a small fortune if you could get them there without the Lakota, Pawnee or some other primitive lifting your hair en route.”
Gabe continued looking hard at his brother, realizing once his brother “got the bit in his teeth,’ he could be �
�hard-mouthed,” in a manner of speaking. And at that very moment, all he read was solid determination in his older brother’s eyes that also “read” maybe he was looking for a better, less-dangerous life back in civilization once they gathered up their small fortune from their furs. After all, Gabe thought, we have seen “the elephant” and maybe it is the right time to take our wives, buy some land back in Missouri, settle down, and raise some horses as Josh had suggested. At least we wouldn’t have to always be looking over our shoulders for the dreaded Blackfeet or the speeding ball of lead or the point of an arrow coming our way. Plus, we could safely raise our families once and for all...
There was nothing more said by Josh over his going back to civilization that evening as the three close friends ate and drank into the wee hours of the morning. Finally, they parted company with Tom going back to his boat to check on the loading process and the brothers back to their tepees and their wives.
***
The next morning found the brothers trading in their buffalo hides because they were too bulky and heavy to carry on a long trip. They were best sold in a place where a boat could transport them downriver instead of being horse-packed all the way. The money earned from the sale of the hides, at three dollars each, bought them the needed supplies of powder, lead, salt, pepper, four new pistols to replace those destroyed during the spring fight with the Blackfeet, and some “foofaraw” for their wives. The rest of that day was spent visiting one last time with old friends, spreading the news of the “back shot” trappers, and looking for any signs of the arrival of the long-sought-after Jenkins clan. And once the word was out, their friends were sorry to see the Brothers Dent leaving the backcountry for St. Louis. Their friends were more than enraged over the polecats who had back shot the trappers and had no information to provide about the Jenkins clan. But as some said, the summer get-together was young and if the brothers stayed around some, the objects of their attentions might come to the fort to trade later in the summer. Josh, losing hope of ever avenging the deaths of his kin by killing the Jenkins,’ was hell-bent on leaving for St. Louis immediately while the traveling was easiest during the summer months. Besides, them damn Jenkins ’ were probably now long- gone and out of the country, Josh thought, if not dead from some Indian s ball, lance or arrow.
Drinking with some old friends, Gabe chanced seeing Lisa walking across the fort’s compound towards where he stood. “Gabe, I hear you and your brother are heading to St. Louis to sell your furs. I am sorry after all these years we can’t do business but that kind of loss is a merchant’s life. If that is your intent, you will have need for a surplus of horses in case you run afoul of horse thieves or cripple some up in horse wrecks. Have you thought any more of selling me that good-looking buckskin of yours? If so, I am prepared to offer you your pick of any four horses from my herd in trade,” he said hopefully.
“As I told you before, that horse is very special to me. I will never part with it unless it is stolen from my dying hands. And you can bet anyone trying to steal that horse, if I have my druthers, will die a terrible death if I can get my hands on him first,” said Gabe with a meaningful look for Lisa, that included a warning that he hoped Lisa wasn’t into horse stealing as well as the high grading of furs...
Tom Warren, who was standing over at another keg of whiskey drinking with some of his keelboatmen, overheard the conversation about trading Gabe’s horse. With that and a full tin cup of whiskey, he walked over to Lisa with a big grin. “Pay up, Lisa,” said Tom. “I told you, you would never get that horse away from Gabe unless you killed him first.” Then he held out his massive paw for his payoff over a bet made earlier with Lisa over the possible sale of Gabe’s buckskin horse.
“I will give you five of my best horses and your pick of any rifle in my supply house for that horse,” whined Lisa, hoping his latest offer would bear fruit and avoid the embarrassment of losing a bet to the boatman.
“Like I told you earlier,” said Gabe, “you will have to kill me first and back shoot me at that, to get that horse.”
With that and a long look of disgust, Lisa took two golden coins from a leather purse and plopped them clanking loudly into Tom’s bear paw of a hand. With a roar of laughter from the group, Lisa stormed away with his Spanish temper rising over having been bested by a lowly keelboatman over a stinking horse. And one owned by what he considered an ignorant Mountain Man at that...
The next morning, after saying their good-byes to many of their old Mountain Men friends, Josh, Gabe, their wives, and Buffalo Calf’s band headed out easterly along the Yellowstone.
Later that afternoon, the Jenkins clan rode into Fort Raymond trailing their pack animals loaded with furs. They stayed one day quietly drinking and feasting, and the following morning they were gone before daylight, never having traded a fur...
Near the current-day Town of Forsyth, Montana, Josh, Gabe and their wives split from Buffalo Calf’s band after saying their good-byes. Then the trappers headed easterly along the mighty Yellowstone River. With Josh in the lead and Gabe trailing the rear, the long caravan of two Indian wives, their now fourteen heavily loaded packhorses, four riding horses, and two spares headed along the high ground of the river. Being in Indian country and trailing a valuable horse herd, not to mention a small fortune in furs, the men kept a sharp eye, as did their heavily armed women. The evenings were spent in the isolation of the brushy river bottoms where grass was aplenty for the livestock, as was the cover from covetous, watchful eyes. However, they had been seen...
After numerous days on the trail and dodging many roving bands of Lakota Indian hunting parties, the caravan turned southerly on the Missouri River. Finally, after several more weeks on the trail, Josh and Gabe swung the group into Fort Pierre in current-day South Dakota. While there, they rested from the long trip and resupplied at that small settlement. After graining their horses from Fort Pierre’s supply houses for several days, the group continued their travels southerly along the Missouri River. Shortly after leaving, they were confronted by a large Lower Brule Indian encampment on the west bend of the Missouri just south of Fort Pierre. There they bypassed the huge Indian encampment in the darkness of night to avoid problems. Once again, they kept to the brushy river bottoms due to the heavy Lakota Indian presence hunting buffalo on the prairie to preserve their horse herd, furs, and hair. The following month was spent traveling south, then southeasterly on the Missouri River into the current-day State of Nebraska. Again, the group stayed to the brushy river bottoms to avoid any problems with the local tribes.
One evening, just ahead of a summer thunderstorm swiftly moving across the prairie with much rumbling, strikes of lightning, and preceding cooling moist breezes, Josh led the group into a densely wooded oxbow. Lighting down from his horse, he let the stiff go from his knees from the long ride before he started walking. Turning, Josh gestured for the group to likewise light down and make camp. Hurrying to avoid the oncoming summer rainstorm as only the prairies can produce, the men set up a large tent. Then they hustled their packs of furs and dry goods under a large tarp as the women gathered in several armloads of readily available dry cottonwood firewood. Picketing their livestock on long leads so they could feed, the men just made it back into the tent when the deluge arrived.
An hour later, the storm had moved south. Exiting the tent, the women soon had a fire going and staked closely to it were slabs of buffalo meat from an animal taken earlier in the day. As the evening darkness settled in around the group, they feasted on buffalo and a corn stew as the usual assortment of mosquitoes looked for their suppers as well. After supper, the men sat back against several nearby logs, lit up their pipes, visited as the women cleaned up camp, and rolled out their sleeping furs.
Around dark, Gabe noticed that his faithful buckskin was pulling heavily on his picket pin and moving to and fro as if concerned about something in the nearby brush. All the other horses were also watching something in the darkness but did not seem to be as nervous as Gabe’s
horse.
“Best go and see what is botherin’ my horse,” said Gabe as he heavily lifted his carcass up from his comfortable sitting position and walked over to his mount. “What’s the matter, Ole Boy?” he asked as he peered deeply into the darkness, seeing or smelling nothing like a bear in the moist air. His horse continued
stomping his feet and looking into the darkness, but upon not hearing or smelling anything unusual like a bear, Gabe returned to the warmth of the comforting fire.
Half-an-hour later, Gabe’s horse started acting all nervous- like once again and this time Gabe said, “It is your turn, Brother, to go and comfort our horses. Probably a bear working along the river in the distance looking for something to eat and is stinking up the place with his scent.”
With that, Josh arose saying, “We ought to kill and eat that damn nervous horse of yours, Brother,” he grumbled. With that and rifle in hand, he ambled over to the string of horses and made sure all were picketed properly for the evening. Once Josh was among the horses, Gabe’s horse settled down and commenced eating normally.
“What did I tell you, Brother. We ought to kill and eat that damn nervous horse of yours and be done with it,” he laughed.
Boom-boom-boom! flashed three rapidly firing rifles in the darkness at the campfire back-lighted form of Josh as he finished checking the horses! He was dead before he hit the ground!! Gabe’s horse went nuts rearing and kicking as Gabe dove for his rifle lying up against his sitting log. However, he had not moved quickly enough! The rifle had been grabbed by unseen hands in the darkness and jerked away before he could reach it! Pow! went a pistol flash from behind the log with its bullet smashing into Gabe’s beefy chest with a resounding whack!
