Beyond the Old Frontier: Adventures of Indian-Fighters, Hunters, and Fur-Traders

by George Bird Grinnell

“If there is no snow, or but little, on the ground, two wolves approach in the most playful and caressing manner, lying, rolling, and frisking about, until the too credulous and unsuspecting victim is completely put off his guard by curiosity and familiarity. During this time the gang, squatted on their hind-quarters, look on at a distance. After some time spent in this way, the two assailants separate, when one approaches the horse’s head, the other his tail, with a slyness and cunning peculiar to themselves. At this stage of the attack, their frolicsome approaches become very interesting—it is in right good earnest; the former is a mere decoy, the latter is the real assailant, and keeps his eyes steadily fixed on the ham-strings or flank of the horse. The critical moment is then watched, and the attack is simultaneous; both wolves spring at their victim the same instant, one to the throat, the other to the flank, and if successful, which they generally are, the hind one never lets go his hold till the horse is completely disabled. Instead of springing forward or kicking to disengage himself, the horse turns round and round without attempting a defence. The wolf before, then springs behind, to assist the other. The sinews are cut, and in half the time I have been describing it, the horse is on his side; his struggles are fruitless: the victory is won. At this signal, the lookers-on close in at a gallop, but the small fry of followers keep at a respectful distance, until their superiors are gorged, then they take their turn unmolested. The wolves, however, do not always kill to eat; like wasteful hunters, they often kill for the pleasure of killing, and leave the carcases untouched. The helplessness of the horse when attacked by wolves is not more singular than its timidity and want of action when in danger by fire. When assailed by fire, in the plains or elsewhere, their strength, swiftness, and sagacity, are of no avail; they never attempt to fly, but become bewildered in the smoke, turn round and round, stand and tremble, until they are burnt to death: which often happens in this country, in a conflagration of the plains.”

It must be remembered, however, that Ross is speaking of wolves of the western mountains, animals which were not familiar with the buffalo, and which now, since horses had been brought into the country, had been supplied with a new food animal. Ross says also, and he is almost the only writer who speaks of anything of this kind, that wolves sometimes attacked men, and instances two men forced to take shelter for several hours in a tree by a band of seventeen wolves.

It was about this time that a change of heart began to take place among the authorities of the Northwest Company. Since Astoria had become Fort George few or no steps had been taken to make the most of the possibilities of the country, but those who were on the ground dwelt constantly on the poverty of the country, the hostility of the Indians, and the impracticability of trade. The people who came over the mountains to take the place of the Astorians brought with them their habits of the fur country of the east, and seemed unable to change them. The traders from the east preferred the birch-bark canoe, and spent much time in searching for bark. It was even provided—lest that of good quality should not be found on the waters of the Pacific slope—that a stock of bark should be shipped from Montreal to London, and thence around Cape Horn to Fort George, in order that canoes might be made.

In 1816 the Columbia River district was divided by the authorities at Fort William into two separate departments, each one with a bourgeois at the head. Mr. Keith was chosen to preside at Fort George, while Mr. McKenzie was given charge of the department of the interior. There was much grumbling at this last appointment. Ross was appointed as second in command to Mr. Keith. Shortly after this there were various troubles at Fort George, one of the most important being the desertion of the blacksmith Jacob, who fled to a hostile tribe, from which he was taken by Ross, who went after him with thirty men. The enterprise was one which required that courage and endurance which Ross so often displayed in times of difficulty. The west coast trade was further complicated by the jealousy which Mr. Keith felt for Mr. McKenzie. These difficulties were overcome, and McKenzie again set out for his interior command, accompanied by a force of Iroquois, Abenakis, and Sandwich Islanders. Mr. Keith remained in command at Fort George.

Many of the hunters and trappers at Fort George lacked experience in dealing with the natives, and before long there was trouble with the Indians. These tried to exact tribute from the fur traders for trapping on the tribal land, and the fur traders, far from showing patience, were quite ready to quarrel. One or more of the hunters were wounded on the Willamette and some Indians were killed. Ross was sent out to try to effect a reconciliation, but, as so often is the case where Indians have been killed, the people in the camps declined to smoke and to consider any other course than war. It was only by the exercise of great patience and forbearance, and finally by the gift of a flag to a chief, that the trouble was at last smoothed over, and the opposing parties smoked and made long speeches and then concluded a treaty—the whites having paid for the dead—which greatly pleased Mr. Keith.

McKenzie on his way up the Columbia did not get beyond the Cascades, for here he found the river frozen; so he camped and spent the winter among the Indians, showing, in his dealings with them, remarkable tact and judgment.

Ross describes with some humor the happenings at a feast, such as frequently took place in the camp where McKenzie now was:

“On the score of cheer, we will here gratify the curiosity of our readers with a brief description of one of their entertainments, called an Indian feast. The first thing that attracts the attention of a stranger, on being invited to a feast in these parts, is, to see seven or eight bustling squaws running to and fro with pieces of greasy bark, skins of animals, and old mats, to furnish the banqueting lodge, as receptacles for the delicate viands: at the door of the lodge is placed, on such occasions, a sturdy savage with a club in his hand, to keep the dogs at bay, while the preparations are going on.

“The banqueting hall is always of a size suitable to the occasion, large and roomy. A fire occupies the centre, round which, in circular order, are laid the eatables. The guests form a close ring round the whole. Every one approaches with a grave and solemn step. The party being all assembled, the reader may picture to himself our friend seated among the nobles of the place, his bark platter between his legs, filled top-heavy with the most delicious mélange of bear’s grease, dog’s flesh, wappatoes, obellies, amutes, and a profusion of other viands, roots and berries. Round the festive board, placed on terra firma, all the nabobs of the place are squatted down in a circle, each helping himself out of his platter with his fingers, observing every now and then to sleek down the hair by way of wiping the hands. Only one knife is used, and that is handed round from one to another in quick motion. Behind the banqueting circle sit, in anxious expectation, groups of the canine tribe, yawning, howling, and growling; these can only be kept in the rear by a stout cudgel, which each of the guests keeps by him, for the purpose of self-defence; yet it not unfrequently happens that some one of the more daring curs gets out of patience, breaks through the front rank, and carries off his booty; but when a trespass of this kind is committed, the unfortunate offender is well belaboured in his retreat, for the cudgels come down upon him with a terrible vengeance. The poor dog, however, has his revenge in turn, for the squabble and brawl that ensues disturbs all the dormant fleas of the domicile. This troop of black assailants jump about in all directions, so that a guest, by helping himself to the good things before him, keeping the dogs at bay behind him, and defending himself from the black squadrons that surround him, pays, perhaps, dearer for his entertainment at the Columbian Cascades than a foreign ambassador does in a London hotel!”

On leaving this place in the spring, the traders broke one of their boats while towing it up the Cascades, and there was no room in the other boats to load the cargo of the one that had been broken. There were sixty packages, of ninety pounds each, and this large and valuable cargo McKenzie turned over to a chief, to be kept for him until his return. When the brigade returned six months later the whole cargo was handed over safe and untouched to McKenzie. Such care for the property of their guests was often given by the old-time Indians.