S4g 
always sufficient to turn a hesitating into a fleeing 
enemy. 
Three years passed, and then William^’ business took 
him into tlie Southwest, while. T-Iainilton remained in 
the North with Perkins and a_ number of his fellows. 
Yet he did not lose sight of Williams, . who, in after 
years sent him a manuscript cont.aining the history of 
Williams’ life among the Pueblo,.' 'Navajo and Apache 
— a manuscript of the utjpost ’ value— which was de- 
stroyed by fire at the burning of the Crow agency in 
1873. .As time passed, .Hamilton’s trapping extended 
further and further to the West, and at last the gold 
excitement which invaded the trappers’ camp, led him 
and a number of his companions to start for Cali- 
fornia, determined to turn their, rifle barrels into crow- 
bars. Not long after they had reached California, the 
Indians there began to murder miners, and the trap- 
pers, who still wore their b'uckskin clothing and so 
were noticeable people, were urged to assist in punish- 
ing tlie murderers. Here they rendered effective service 
and the killing of the miners soon ceased. 
Besides the adventure with which Mr. Hamilton’s 
book abounds, it is particularly interesting for the light 
it throws on the daily life of the trapper; how he set 
his traps, cared for his furs, packed them, and disposed 
of thein; how he hunted, looked after his horse, resisted 
injustice, defended himself and revenged injuries. This 
book, which has just come off the press, is not- less inter- 
esting than the old volumes r'f sixty or seventy years 
ago, which are now long our of print, and which the 
man interested in the West seeks' for in old book- 
stores and pays large prices for. It has the same flavor 
of antiquity with these hooks, ior in fact, it describes a 
fcountry and scenes and i'ucidents that can never be seen 
agaiip that are as much a part of the past' as is the land- 
ing of Columbus. The volume, written by a Montanian,- 
is one in which all Montana men, and indeed all West- 
ern men, may feel a just pride. It is illustrated by six 
sketches by C. _M. Russell, the "cowboy artist” — most 
striking and effective pictures. Mr. Russell, as is well 
known, has for many years made a most careful study 
of Indians and Indian life, and these pictures are not, 
only beautiful artistically, but are absolutely true to the 
old life. 
It is many years since a ’nook has appeared that is so 
interesting to the student of the early West, or to . the 
hunter and traveler in western America out of doors. 
We believe that the volume will have, a remarkable suc- 
cess. 
In Trapping Days. 
From \^ m. T. Hamilton’s “Sixty Years on the Plains.’’ 
We finished our trappmg in this, section without being 
molested further, and then moved to Bear River. At this 
camp we cume in contact with the Bannocks, whose chief 
was named Pocatello. It -was he who fought Connor and 
his California volunteers in 1S62. The result of the fight 
was that the Bannocks were simply annhilated. Pocatello 
escaped by swdmming down the Hear River with the ther- 
mometer at 38 degrees below zero, unusually cold for 
that country. 
These Bannocks made annual visits to the plains after 
buffalo, and were expert in the making of pemmican. 
They were also adept in collecting hne furs, more expert 
than any other tribe I have ever known. 
It w'as now’ October and furs were beginning to get 
prime. We trapped Bear River and Malade River with 
good success; and then crossed Goose Creek Mountains 
and trapped Goose Creek and Raft River. 
Here w^e met some Pah Otes, a branch of the Sho- 
shones, but the_ Shoshones do not affiliate with them. 
They were a primitive race, making fire by friction be- 
tween t'wm sticks. We visited thcrr village, as I wanted 
to see how they conducted their domes, ic affairs. They 
could not be compared to Sioux, Cheyennes, or Sho- 
shones, for they were fil'ffiy in habits. Their cooking 
utensils were primitive in const ruciion. For spoons they 
used the hoofs of elk and the horns of mountain sheep. 
They are credited with manufacturing pottery, but I 
visited many lodges and saw none. They had a few ket- 
tles, w’hich appeared to me all they desired. Their arms 
consisted of bows and arrows and a few indifferent flint- 
lock guns. Many arrows were pointed with flint, which 
they poisoned by dipping the point in liver which had 
previously been poisoned with rattlesnake venom. I have 
heard that they extracted a poison from roots, but this 
I very much doubt. 
They collect quantities of berries, and for meats they 
have deer, antelope,^ mountain sheep, jack rabbits and 
ground squirrels. I he last twm are evidently their fa- 
vorite food, for I noticed large numbers of them hung 
up in the village. They hunt squirrels with blunt-pointed 
arrow's. They are great beggars and thieves, and we 
caught them trying to steal our horses. 
The streams were now beginning to freeze up, and we 
started for the Brown’s Hole rendezvous, arriving there 
the latter part of November. 
Several traders had come from the States with sup- 
plies, and there was quite a rivalry among them for our 
furs. Bovey & Company were the most liberal buyers, 
and w'e sold them the entire lot. 
Besides the trappers there were at the rendezvous 
many Indians— Shoshones, Utes and a few lodges of 
Navajos— -who came to exchange their pelts for what- 
ever .they , .stood in need of. Take it all in all, it was 
just such a crowd as would delight the student were he 
studying the characteristics of the mountaineer and the 
Indian. The days were given to horse racing, foot racing, 
shooting matches; and in the evening were heard the 
music of voice and drum and the sound of dancing. There 
was also an abundance of reading matter for' those in- 
clined in that direction. 
Perkins had a fly-tent put up and made a counter out 
of^dry goods boxes, and then said; 
“Now, young man, yon take charge of the store. You 
are the best sign-talker in the camp and can out-trade 
me. Besides, the Indians and trappers are all fond of 
you.” 
I 'was the youngest man in the camp and full of the 
Old _ Nick, the men would say, for I was continually 
playing some prank. 
On Jan. 20 a fearful storm began, which raged for six 
days, scattering most of the horses in the hills, and made 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
both trappers and Indians uneasy, as Blackfeet, Bloods, 
or Piegans were ofteir in this section at this time of the 
year. These .tribes are winter Indians, and storms and 
severe weather do mot affect them in the least. 
On the seventh day the storm abated, and about sev- 
enty-five trappers arid Indians started out to gather stock. 
All our horses except six were missing. Among the six- 
W'as mj’ Runner, and mounting him I joined one of the 
parties composed of tw'enty whites and five Indians. 
At Cedar Creek we struck fresh tracks of a large num- 
ber of horses making due east to a comparatively level 
country. The Indians said to me in signs, “Blackfeet.” 
We traveled at half speed for the next twelve miles and 
came to a ridge, from the summit of which we could see 
some Indians driving horses about one and a half miles 
away. 
A draw to our right led toward the spot, so we turned 
up and at a rapid pace followed it to its head without 
being discovered by the Blackfeet. 
When W'e reached the head of the draw, a Shoshone 
dismounted and crept to the brow of the hill and dis- 
covered the Blackfeet going over a hill beyond. Watch- 
ing until they disappeared behind the hill, he signalled 
and we hurried forward to the next ridge. 
I'rom this ridge we could plainly see them and counted 
eleven. They had just halted to change horses, and 
W'hen they caught sight of us they hurried to remount. 
Our horses w'ere the swiftest and we soon overtook 
them. Ihey had no possible chance of escaping, and get- 
ting rattled they separated, which was just what we 
wanted them to do. Had they stayed together and fought 
they might have dorte some damage. As it was, they 
became panic-stricken at our sudden appearance. Here 
was a practical illustration of the efficiency of pistol prac- 
tice at stumps. The trappers did not for a moment hesi- 
tate to charge the scattered Blackfeet; but each one se- 
lected his man and passed at full speed, delivering pistol 
shots at from tw'enty to forty feet distant. 
Almost every shot brought down an Indian, who in the 
meanwhile attempted to fight with his arrows. In less 
than three minutes there were eleven dead Indians. 
There 'was one Blackfoot mounted on a pinto pony who 
was leading the others, and as my Runner was the swift- 
est horse in our outfit the men yelled, “Bill, catch that 
pinto w'ith that devil of yours.” 
The Indian at this time was 200 yards distant, and I 
headed for him, and it was a grand race for a quarter of 
a mile. 
I then spoke to my pony, “Catch him.” He. needed no 
whip nor spur, and I never saw him do better. When 
within fifty feet the Indian wheeled and let fly an arrow. 
Runner would spring to the right or left by pressure of 
my knee and the arrow flew harmlessly by. Before the 
Blackfoot _ could fit another arrow to the string I was 
close to him and had sent him to join his companions. 
We let the Shoshones do the hair-lifting, but we ap- 
propriated the plunder, which consisted of pipes, tobacco 
and pemmican. The pemmican was pounced upon by all, 
as we were good and hungry. “Silver Tip” had received 
a glancing arrow in the ribs, but it was only a slight 
wound. 
The trappers and Indians gave me the pinto pony, and 
it was a good one ; it was very fast and had orginally be- 
longed to the Utes. 
We then started for camp, having recovered 115 head 
of horses and mules. 
The five Indians rode through their village with the 
scalps tied on coup-sticks, and there was great rejoicing. 
They had had no hand whatever in killing the Black- 
feet, but that did not matter. They recounted their 
bravery in recapturing the ponies and taking each one a 
Blackfoot scalp. We came in for no praise whatever 
from the women, as they considered that we were only 
assisting their brave young warriors. The dancing and 
feasting over this affair lasted for several days. 
The Utes, on heE^ring of my catching the pinto pony, 
crowded around to see my Runner, and after looking him 
all over challenged me to a race. I was to ride against 
the owner of the pinto. Of course I accepted and the bet 
was made, I on my part putting up a mule. The trap- 
pers and Shoshones all backed me and put up blankets, 
robes and ponies. The track was selected, the word 
was given, and off we started. 
Up to within 100 feet of the finish we raced neck and 
neck, but I was holding my horse in and the little imp 
was mad. When I finally gave him his head, he dis- 
tanced the Ute by twenty feet, much to his disgust. 
Whm Indians lose they give up gracefully, and no ex- 
ception was made in this case. 
It was now time to lay in a supply of depuyer and 
pemmican for spring, and about thirty trappers went to 
North Park and secured all the buffalo required. This 
kept all the outfits busy for some time. 
The Roasting of the Uneasy Club. 
The story of the race of the Uneasy Club with the 
Nebraska prairie fire calls up memories of the -Illinois 
and Iowa prairies when things were wild and raw. 
While the whole Forest and Stream family rejoices 
to learn of their success in the mad race, there was 
really no occasion for them to bestir themselves so 
strenuously. Their guide or teamster should have 
understood the situation better, if he was a resident of 
the prairie country. 
^ Of course, there are lots of us, who can vociferate, 
“1; told yon so!” now that the race is finished, and my 
own reason for rising up to “make a few remarks” is 
the wish to share with my brothers who may yet be 
entered for a similar race, the knowledge gained on the 
prairies fifty years ago. In days long gone, when the 
prairie was yet untrodden save by wild and savage feet, 
a prairie fire was often the grandest sight to be seen 
by mortal eyes. I have read the fine print of my 
rnother’s hymn book on a dark and cloudy night by the 
light of a prairie fire two miles distant; and I have seen 
a fire run over the prairies of northern Illinois and 
cover a mile of ground faster than could the best horse 
on earth. 
In the year 1853 two men, Day and Lewin, were rent- 
ers of the farm of Lew Tuttle, at Macedonia, Pottawat- 
tamie county, Iowa, on the west side of the West Nish- 
nabotna River; when Tuttle’s farm was the farthest 
one north on the river for a stretch of twenty miles. 
jOcir. 28, igo.i I 
Futtlefriimself also lived on the farm with his family] 
Late in the fall, when the grass had dried to tinder, a 
terrific gale came down from the north one Sunday 
morning, and the danger of prairie fire being ever pres- 
ent in- ^he mind of the pioneer, the two renters walked 
up o'^er -the crest of the hill to the northward to take a| 
look at-things._ Far away up the river a dense cloud oi 
smoke-was rising, and as it drifted off to the eastward^ 
they saw the timber of Big Grove, on the east side oi 
the river, eight miles above them, plainly between them 
and the smoke, showing the fire to be at least eight 
miles distant. The buildings on the cultivated land oi 
the farm were safe, but in the timber , along the rivei: 
were Imndreds of rails and fence, posts, split, piled and; 
dried in readiness for fencing the rest of the farm, and; 
if the fire passed the narrow neck of .wild grass land at; 
the north end of the farm between the river and a plot 
of forty acres of freshly broken prairie land, the fencing 
would quickly go up in smoke. 
The 'idea of cross-firing this hundred yard strip of 
grass occurred to them, but the gale blew so terrific-i 
ally they doubted their ability to stop the fire, once it 
was started. Day was a very swift runner, and he no'w? 
ran back toward the house in search of Tuttle to help 
in the cross-firing. Half way across the farm of l6c 
acres hh met Tuttle and another man hurrying toward; 
the fire;; and together they raced back over the hill. ^ 
Before they reached the gap, the fire had passed: 
Lewin was found in the middle of the forty-acre field; 
of breaking (freshly plowed prairie land) with his eyes 
bulging out “like peeled onions,” and he averred that 
the fire came on sailing over the tops of the prairie 
grass, Dverlapping a hundred yards at a leap, with a 
speed no animal could equal. ■ 
The lower half of the grass stems, though perfectlj 
dry, were unburned, the fire taking only the leaves and 
tops of the grass, and the gale whipping the fire oulj 
instantly, Yhe first billow of flame flashed by. | 
In passing Big Grove the same fire caught two Indiar 
boys who were on the prairie hunting, without matches 
They ran for the river and were overtaken in the river 
bottom a short distance from the river. One of therq 
with rare good judgment, seeing the race was hopeless, 
quickly selected a small plot of the shortest grass, 
wrapped his woolen blanket around his head and thre-fti 
himself flat upon his face. Though fearfully burned 
he lived through the awful ordeal, and recovered com- 
pletely. The other, overtaken by the flame, th -ew his 
gun one way and his powder horn the other, stagi 
gered on a few steps and fell, quickly burning to death 
The shreds of his exploded powder horn were found a 
short distance behind him. 
Ordinarily the prairie fire was a very innocent affair 
the grass being often burned earlier in the season and 
when the wind was lighter; but once in a while came a 
fire that instantly became a matter of life or death tc 
all living creatures in its path. 
The question how to light a match and set a fire ir 
such_ a gale is the all-important one in such an ex- 
tremity, ’and no ordinary method will succeed. There 
is just one right way to do this. Snatch a handful of the 
fine.st, dryest .glass blades, sit down flat on the grounq 
wall your hack to the wind and your feet apart, jani 
your capf.ur hat down between your legs close to youi 
budy, h^icl your body forward and hold your arms by 
Yuur Side. Hold the wisp of grass over the open hal 
and'serafeh a match on your pants on the inside of your 
leg,,.drawing rite match toward you and into the hat as 
it igiiires— the match, not the hat — and as the grass 
catches fife ^hp it out of the hat and into the grass 
close to you. Sit quiet till sure the standing grass is 
well on fire, jupip to your feet, and as the tiny spear oi 
flames spreads:,on like an arrow for ten or twenty sec-; 
onds, step over the tiny back fire and run down the 
rapidly widening blackness, and as the pursuing wall 
of flame races by a hundred yards or more distant on 
each side of you, hold your breath as long as possible 
till the heat passes by. | 
Had their terrified driver done this trick, and the 
uneasy sportsmen in camp gone a few rods to leeward 
and duplicated it, moving their traps quickly to the 
burnt ground, instead of the awful race with death which 
ensued, the lively experiences of the next few minutes' 
would have been simply intensely interesting to all conn 
cerned, and a pleasure to remember to-day. 
Orin Belknap. 
Kettle Falls, 'Washington. 
Halloween. 
This happened in my pedagogue days. Fresh from 
college and bubbling over with life, by some fatuous' 
lapse upon the part of the trustees of a certain vener- 
able New England academy I had been installed as men- 
tal and spiritual instructor and guide to as gallant a' 
crowd of young rogues as ever graced Minerva’s temple, 
— which was much like striking a spark into tinder. One' 
bright October morning there lounged into my room, with 
indolent, happy-go-lucky gait and grin of boundless good' 
nature, one Aldrich, a black-eyed rascal who attended 
the academy as day student from the neighboring hills,' 
and into my ear drawled this magic formula: “Amos 
G. is cornin’ up from State Line Friday night with his 
’coon dawgs. Hisn’n are the best dawgs about here. If 
yon’n Lord want some fiin you better come up to our 
house ’long about 6 or 7 o’clock.” 
In that year the happy ordering of things brought, 
Halloween- and a full moon together on a Friday night,,' 
the schoqlboy’s brief night of freedom, and upon my table: 
lay a dainty billet inviting me to a Halloween party at 
the house of a gentle little lady of the village. I confessi 
a base act. A plea of engagement for that evening and 
an implied regret were the unworthy answer to the kind 
note, and I like to remember that when it was known, 
that I just went ’coon hunting that night, I was placed 
according to my deserts in the fair one’s just mind, and 
no subsequent good conduct has redeemed me, even to 
this day. i 
Bursting with the joy of freedom from work, and 
filled with the tipple of cool October air, a rollicking 
company of three or four set out in the dusk of evening 
for the rendezvous. Across the brown meadow of the 
valley bottom, with its black stream, up through the 
gravelly moraines, clad in odorous pines, and into the 
