l'rruia, Four Dolliira n Vrnr, 
Ton Outn n Ct|i), 
NEW YORK, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1878- 
foliime 10. — No. 1. 
..Ill Full on !H|., M V 
HUNTER'S REFRAIN. 
Selected. 
BV (JOY H. AVERT. 
A WAY, uway, 
1 *■ To the woods away, 
Wo’ll waken the morn 
With the hunter’s horn — 
Tlrra-la-la-la. Tlrra-la-la-la-la. 
The game Is nigh, 
Aud the scent will lie, 
IIo ! ho I Tally ho ! boys oh I 
What plcasate to be 
A huuter free, 
• When he hears the sound 
Of his faithful hound, 
What Joy he feels 
As the bark It peels 
From his Jocund heels. 
Ha 1 ha ! Tlrra-la-la-la, 
Hoi ho I Tally ho I 
What glee to be 
A huuter free ; 
What glee ! what glee I 
As he chases the frog 
On the slippery log 
Aud falls over his dog 
lutj the b >g, 
With his mouth full of blood. 
And bis boots full of mud. 
Ha I ha I Tlrra-la-la-la, 
Ho I ho I Tally ho I 
What comfort to be 
A hunter free ; 
When the day has gone, 
^ And the sunlight (led, 
He takes his gun, 
And goes to bed. 
If he Is a sensible man ; If he is not, he gropes aronnd In the darkness, 
upsets the clothes-horse, falls over young Nimrod's cradle, wno opens 
In full cry, leaves his hat and coat In a raspberry patch, blows off the 
end of his fore-flngor, returns the next evening with a consumptive 
pheasant, aud Is arrested for killing game out of season.— Purl.-. 
For Forest and Stream and Rod and Gun. 
fonnging on % J typer ^li.'iiouri. 
By Ernest Ingbrsoli.. 
NO IV. — [Continued from page 468.] 
THE PLAGUE OF THE PILGRIM — GROS VENTRES AND OTHER 
RIVER 1NDIAN8— TUB BIG-nORN— ENGINEERING AT DAO- 
PIN’S UAPIDS— ISLANDS— PILOTING BY IN8T1NOT. 
W E were so unlucky as to have with us a Pilgrim. A 
Pilgrim is an Eastern JiersoQ who for the first time 
goes West, and is, of course, ignorant in occidental customs 
— and ignores it. You may exhaust upou a man the vile vo- 
cabulary of a hullwhacker’s vituperations, and perhaps he 
will only smile ; but the case is not on record where any true 
patriot of Montana allowed any one to insinuate that he was 
no better than a Pilgrim. I suppose the wrath with which an 
old Pharisee heard himself called a Publican was serene and 
suuuy good nature compared with the amazement and grief 
aud anger and solf-sacriflciug preparation for instant battle 
with which u mountaineer comprehends that you have stig- 
matized him as a Pilgrim ! To be thoroughly successful, the 
Pilgrim ought to be a tolerably well informed man on a nar- 
row range of topics in bis native country, and one whose 
opinions have been wont to command respect. If he c&mes 
from Boston, it is well, and he carries Westward with him the 
full-grown comb which adorned bis high head at home. Pil- 
grims 11 know it all," and some of them never do survive the 
shocks io their vanity which their iterated mistakes occasion. 
Our Pilgrim, like the rest of his genu9, was a great boro. As 
inebriated men often think all the rest of the world drunk, 
so this man took all the rest of us to bo pilgrims and himself 
only experienced. lie discoursed to us on the arts of mining, 
the science of cattle-raising, the habits of antelope and deer, 
the customs of Indians ; instructed us how to climb moun- 
tains with ease (ho had never been half way to timber-line), 
and how to cross deserts (he had never seen a square yard of 
alkali). lie knew all about fighting Indians, hunting buffa- 
loes, navigating northwestern riverB, cheating the Government 
at Indian agencies, far more thoroughly than the wisest pio- 
neer between the Saskfttchwun and Salt Lake. Now, here in 
the Bad Lands, he had a text for an endless sermon, and lie 
bored half the pleasure of the scene- out of allot us. He 
overheard a geolog'st say that the singular forms into which 
the rock had been worn was mainly through the action of 
trickling water, and that soft and hard strata alternating lmd 
worn unequally; therefore— “Oh, yes!" interrupted the 
Pilgrim, aud talked wrong geology “ into the ground," if 1 
may use such an expression. Next he must whisper to ye 
scribe “ to write up well ” certain features ; remarked to the ] 
lady sketching that the only proper thing to draw lay “just ‘ 
there," and laid down such rules of work as would disgrace 
chalk-sketches on a barn door ; then climbed on high with a 
self-satisfied air, and looking critically ahead, informed the 
pilot that, in his opinion, the channel lay on the right bank, 
and that to hug the left was a grave mistake of judgment. 
The pilot only smiled, but the captain made a frank ob=erva- 
tiun as to the Pilgrim's knowledge— the Pilgrim can never 
quite become accustomed to Western candor — and the unap- 
preciated man was seen no more in the pilot-house all day. 
If Mr. Josh BilliDgs had been a pass*. Dger on the Benton he 
would have doubly appreciated his own remark : “ It iz 
better to be bored with a two-inch auger than with a gimlett.” 
At Arrow River the white cliffs are succeeded by lofty 
hanks of mud, less entertaining but equally desolate, which 
continue for thirty miles, presenting a picture of nature's wild 
deformities, characterized by a total absence of everything 
which could give pleasure to the eye or gratification to the 
mind, except as an exhibition of the weird. At Arrow 
River Lewis and Clark wintered in 1804-5, and are said to 
to have left the record carved on a white pillar ; but we didn’t 
see it. 
Twenty miles below, the Judith — an important tributary— 
CDters from the south, and close by is the mouih of the Dog 
River. Here are extensive, well-wooded bottoms, which 
were long ago occupied by fur-traders, and more recently by 
the Government as an army post, called Camp Cooke. Now 
there is a branch trading post of T. C. Power «fc Co., of 
Fort BentOD, here, for the Gros Ventre Indiaus, consisting of 
a collection of low log-houses around three sides of a quad- 
rangle and a corral, where the boat stopped in laudiDg sup- 
plies loDg enough to allow the passengers to go ashore aud 
prowl around the lonely station. There wasn't much to see- 
two or three half tamed squaws in bedraggled calico dresses 
of civilized cut, who, with their pappooses, were gazed at 
and quizzed by the ladies of the party, while some of the 
rest of us examined a lot of moccasins, etc., for sale (at out- 
rageous prices) by the trader, or went to see the three young 
grizzly bears that were penned up in a log corral near by. I 
saw only one Indian man about the premises, but he evident 
ly thought himself a whole host. He was a youth on whose 
smooth and, for an Indian, handsome face, not one of the 
ugly wrinkles of age had marked its lines. With his coal- 
black hair elaborately combed, the parting in the middle 
strongly indicated by a line of yellow paint, and the ends 
gathered into a queue behind into which was plaited strips of 
otter-hide and a tail of large silver disks that hung down to 
his heels, jingling as he walked; with his swarthy face set off 
by broad lines and patches of vermilion ; with heavy coils of 
large bright beads about his neck ; yellow leggings, whose 
side fringes trailed the ground, and moccasins of gorgeous 
beadwork and fringed flaps. Folding his brilliant Navaho 
blanket with careless grace across his unshirted body so as 
half to reveal his bronze chest and sinewy arm, he stood 
erect and motionless as a statue, calm in the admiration he 
thought he was exciting in our wondering eyes, swelling with 
the vanity of a full-dressed Indian dandy. My companion 
was a young lady who had just come from years of residence 
in Germany and Italy — from wanderings among the orange 
groves of Naples, and excursions down the historic Rhine. 
To her all this was full of wild aud poetic interest, although 
by no means her first sight of an Indian. She stopped in 
half amazement and half admiration to watch this picturesque 
savage, and observing it, he turned slowly round to fully ex- 
hibit all the glories of his finery aud personal appearance. 
She was greatly amused and wanted to talk with him, but 1 
would not permit it. Very likely he knew a little English, 
but it was pretty sure to lie very bad English, and Lite lady 
who enters upon conversation with an Indian is pretty sure 
to find it shockingly unpleasant. We had quite exhausted all 
the sights of this frontier post by the time the whistle called 
us to tread the narrow gang-plank again, and the voyage was 
resumed with little regret. 
The Gros Ventres are a band of the Hidatsa, or Minnataree 
Indians, who belong to the Great Dakotah family. The 
Crows are said to be another band of Hidatsa, separated 
long ago. At any rate, the Crows and Gros Ventres tux- in- 
veterate cuemies, yet sometimes unite against the Blackfeet, 
which are the Ishmaelites of the Northwest, fighting every- 
body. The Blackfeet occupy the country, properly, north of 
the Missouri aud West of the Marias, extending to the upper 
waters of the Saskatchewan, yet frequently making long ex- 
cursions Southward, being admirable horsemen, and some of 
the worst Indian battles on record or in tradition have been 
fought in the valley north of Yellowstone Park between the 
Blackfeet and Flatheads from the West (on their way to huut 
buffalo), Crows from the East, Shoshones from the South, or 
the waudering companies of trappers under Jim Bridger, the 
Soublettes and other leaders that used to range through this 
country, and who dreaded the Blackfeet above all other tribes. 
The Crows included iu their country the headwaters of the Yel- 
lowstone and Southward— a band of them (the River Crows) 
living along the southern bunk of the Missouri from Fort 
Benton to the mouth of the Mussel Shell. This left the north 
bank of the Missouri, east of the Marias, aud the triangle 
bet ween the Yellowstone and the Missouri for the Gros Ven- 
tres. East of them were the Assiniboines, and south of them 
the Crows and Sioux. And they oltcn made long excursions 
into the districts of their neighbors. The Gros Venires are 
said to have once lived “ in earthen houses" iu the region 
through which the boundary between Dukot iliaud Minnesota 
now passes. It is also known that a portion of them once 
settled near the head of Green River, where the names of 
some mountains and streams perpetuate their memory. 
The Gros Ventre ludiaus are line looking, and I have never 
anywhere, unless it be among the mountain Utes of Southern 
Colorado, seen such prepossessing women as those of this 
tribe. Gov. J. J. Stevens gives some interesting facts ubout 
them in his narrative of Explorations for a Northern Railroad 
Route to the Pacific in 1853. The Gros Ventres were then 
camped on Milk River, where was fine pasturage for their 
immense herds of horses, and they treated the officers of the 
survey with great hospitality, receiving them with great cere- 
mony in a lodge twenty-five feet square, after which they 
were taken to visit the lodges of the principal men. Among 
the dishes furnished the guests was u mess made of buffalo 
marrow, berries and the scrapings of lodge skins, which Ste- 
vens asserts he enjoyed. “Polygamy is universal, several of 
the chiefs having four, five, and even six wives, oue of whom 
is the especial favorite uud mistress of the household. The 
husband will appropriate any of them for purposes of prosti- 
tution when he can profit by so doing. They appear to be a 
simple-minded race, easily influenced, and very kindly dis- 
posed toward the whites. Ihey are filthy in the extreme in 
their habits, many of the women actually eating the vermin 
out of each Others head and out of the robes in which they 
sleep. Being improvident, it is always feast or famiue, either 
having abundance or else nothing." Much the same uccouut 
would do for all the Missouri River tribes.* 
But I have been led into too long a digression. 
Beyond this stopping-place the barren clay banks crowd 
upon one another, with occasional cliffs of whde chalk, leaving 
narrow verge for the border of trees until Cow Island is 
reached during the second afternoon of our voyage. 
All this desolate region is the chosen home of the splendid 
big horns— the mountain sheep. Although no longer, as when 
Father DeSmet floated down in 1847, are “numerous groups” 
browsing ou tbe steep declivities, they are still to be got by 
the hunter, and we saw maDy of them standing among the 
monumental rocks a 5 quiet and statuesque as though carved 
from the sandstone. They are the noblest of game. Much 
like sheep in some particulars, aud more like the chamois or 
ibex in others ; the man who would get them, even though 
they never saw th- human form before, must have thestrength 
and agility to climb to the loftiest ledges, aud tact and skill to 
bring his game down at long range. Even then he may lose 
it, the body often falling over some precipice on whose very 
brink the sheep loves to stand. These northern mountains, 
with their strong dark heights andViiggrd foot hills are full of 
them. When climbing the mountains 1 hove had hands in 
sight for two or three hours at a time, feeding ou distant green 
hill-tops below me, where scattering clumps of dwarf spruces 
furnished shelter when they cared to rest, and the young grass 
afforded sweet pasture. It was extremely interesting to 
watch them. Nothing could better express the wild freedom 
of the unmapped mountains. An old ram or two, easily dis- 
tinguished by the immense coiling horus from the ewes, whose 
horns are small aud light, would lead the flock, and there 
would be from ten to fifty younger rams and ewes following. 
How they can run ! Let the ground be rough or smooth, level 
or inclined, it seems to make no difference to t heir sure and 
agile hoofs ; and the kids will race up and down the steepest 
snow banks just for fun. It will climb to points where wolves 
even dare not follow, aud leap from pinnacle to pinnacle sis 
though held up by invisible wings. This seems incredible 
when we look at their ovine form and great weight, and the 
cumbersome Ammonitic horns carried by the mules. It is 
these ornaments that give them the name “ big horn," and it 
used to be believed that the mountain sheep could throw them- 
selves from tremendous heights, alighting on their horns and 
rebounding without injury. Their hair is coarse aud slightly 
crinkling, and when the bluish winter coat comes out. dis- 
placing the brown summer dress, you may find everywhere be- 
tween the hairs a shorter coat -a sort of undershirt— of the 
finest silky wool. The flesh of the big-horn is tender aud juicy 
in the autumn when the animal becomes fat, and has a taste 
between the antelope and mutton, partaking of both. 
Just above Cow Island are Dauphin's Rapids, which are 
the chief obstructions to the ascent of steamboats beyond this 
point. They are not very formidable ;is rapids, hut iu a bend 
in the river sand-bars Lave formed iu such a way that here, 
more than elsewhere, the boulders and angular pieces of rock 
brought down by the ice have been deposited, until an accu- 
• Since the above waa written there has come to hand the admirable 
“Ethnography and Philology of the Hidatsa Indians," written by Dr. 
Washington Matthews. I'. >. A., and published by Dr. F. V. Hayden as 
oue of the Miscellaneous Doctunen'sof the U. S. Geological Survey. 
This contalus a full account of the manners of this family and their 
allies, the Mondaus, who inhabit a permaueu* village at Fort Berthol 
lower down the river. 
