CROSSING THE ROCKIES IN '61. 



'9 





large camp of Crow Indians. We called 

 on the chief, and were invited to dine 

 with him. The appearance of his lodge 

 and of his squaws did not whet our ap- 

 petites, but as a matter of policy we 

 accepted his hospitality. A large iron 

 pot was placed on the ground, in the 

 center of the wigwam ; we were seated 

 round it, and told to help ourselves. 

 The meat was tender, and had a really 

 delicious flavor. We enjoyed it, and 

 thought it must be a fawn or a kid ante- 

 lope; but, as we rode away, Mr. Dawson 

 rudely destroyed the grateful relish of 

 the banquet by telling us we had been 

 eating dog — low-down, plebeian, flea-bit- 

 ten, Indian dog ! However, regrets would 

 not then have been in good order, and 

 we made up our minds to hold fast to 

 that which was good. 



On leaving the banquet hall, we found 

 that the Indians had been trying to stop 

 our train. They were sharp enough to 

 know that the wagons contained some 

 of the goods destined for their trade, 

 and that if the supplies were allowed to, 

 reach Benton, they (the Indians) would 

 not get as much for their skins as for- 

 merly. One of the Indians, while trying 

 to steal some extra ox-bows, which hung 

 under one of the wagons, was kicked 

 down by the half-wild ox, one of the 

 wheelers, and run over before the driver 

 could stop the team. He was badly 

 hurt. His friends stopped the wagon, 

 and were going to shoot the oxen and 

 take the goods, when Mr. Dawson and 

 the four of us rode up. He tried to 

 conciliate them, but they paid little at- 

 tention to him. Finally, he lost his tem- 

 per and drew his revolver. This was a 

 serious error. It was at once taken as 

 an excuse for open hostility. We were 

 all immediately seized and taken prison- 

 ers, about 200 of the Indians aiming 

 guns and arrows at us, and all anxious 

 for an excuse to fire. I could look 

 down the barrels of several of the guns, 

 and could see just where the ball from 

 each would probably hit me. I knew 

 that the Indians had guns that had a 

 way of going off too soon. My heart 

 went down into my boots, or somewhere 

 away from its right place. Fortunately, 

 Mr. Dawson had been unable to raise 

 the hammer of his pistol, and the others 

 of us did not have time to get ours out 

 at all before we were seized. If a shot 

 had been fired, we would have all been 



killed within a few seconds. At this 

 moment, the chiefs who had dined us 

 came riding up, and rescued us from 

 the hands of their men. A large circle 

 was formed, a council held, and by 

 the payment of sundry blankets, pro- 

 visions, etc , the affair was settled ; but it 

 gave me a dose of Indian that I shall 

 never forget. 



Then the train strung out, and we 

 moved on. We had gone about a mile, 

 and were congratulating ourselves on 

 our rescue from death, when we saw; 

 riding towards us with the speed of the 

 wind, eleven naked Indians, in full war- 

 paint^and feathers, their horses covered 

 with foam. They were led by a noble 

 looking, old-white-haired chief, and were 

 a fierce, wild looking lot, nearly all 

 stripped naked, armed and full of fight. 

 When I first saw them, about a mile 

 away, 1 felt like running. The experi- 

 ence I had just gone through was all I 

 wanted of Indians that day. Mr. Dawson 

 took a good look at them, and then said, 

 "That's all right, gentlemen." The 

 hangers on of the Crows, who had been 

 following us to steal whatever they 

 could, began to fall back and leave us. 

 The eleven rode up, and stopped in 

 front of us. The old chief, dismount- 

 ing, threw his arms around Mr. Dawson. 

 Our leader was an old Scotchman, a 

 tough nut, accustomed to thrilling 

 scenes of frontier Indian life for many 

 years, but this was too much for him. 

 He turned to us, with tears in his eyes, 

 and, in a broken voice, said : 



"Gentlemen, let me introduce to you 

 my father-in-law, a Blackfoot chief. He 

 says he heard that we had been seized, 

 and were about to be killed, by the 

 Crows ; that he, with his ten warriors, 

 could not do much against 3,000 Crows, 

 but that they had come down to die 

 with us." 



My heart, which had been anywhere 

 but in the right place for the last few- 

 hours, now came back to me, and I felt 

 like going back and facing the whole 

 Crow tribe. For true nobility, com 

 friendship and self-sacrifice, this act ot 

 those poor Blackfoot savages has rarely 

 been equalled ; and it shows the real 

 character of the Indians before they 

 were contaminated by the whites, who 

 have, as a rule, set them the example of 

 murder, thieving and drunkenness ; kill- 

 ing Indians on the slightest provocation, 



