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

by George Bird Grinnell

“The party were all mounted on horseback, to the number of seventy-three, and exhibited a fine display of horsemanship. After some ten miles’ travel, we commenced operations. Having reached the hunting-ground, the party separated into several divisions. We then perambulated the woods, crossed rivers, surrounded thickets, and scampered over hill and dale, with yell and song, for the greater part of two days; during which time we killed seven bears, nine wolves, and eleven small deer: one of the former I had the good luck to shoot myself. In the evening of the third day, however, our sport was checked by an accident. One of the great men, the chief Pacha of the hunting party, named Tu-tack-it, Is-tso-augh-an, or Short Legs, got severely wounded by a female bear.

“The only danger to be apprehended in these savage excursions is by following the wounded animal into a thicket, or hiding-place; but with the Indians the more danger the more honour, and some of them are foolhardy enough to run every hazard in order to strike the last fatal blow, (in which the honour lies,) sometimes with a lance, tomahawk, or knife, at the risk of their lives. No sooner is a bear wounded than it immediately flies for refuge to some hiding-place, unless too closely pursued; in which case, it turns round in savage fury on its pursuers, and woe awaits whoever is in the way.

“The bear in question had been wounded and took shelter in a small coppice. The bush was instantly surrounded by the horsemen, when the more bold and daring entered it on foot, armed with gun, knife, and tomahawk. Among the bushrangers on the present occasion was the chief, Short Legs, who, while scrambling over some fallen timber, happened to stumble near to where the wounded and enraged bear was concealed, but too close to be able to defend himself before the vicious animal got hold of him. At that moment I was not more than five or six paces from the chief, but could not get a chance of shooting, so I immediately called out for help, when several mustered round the spot. Availing ourselves of the doubtful alternative of killing her—even at the risk of killing the chief—we fired, and as good luck would have it, shot the animal and saved the man; then carrying the bear and wounded chief out of the bush, we laid both on the open ground. The sight of the chief was appalling: the scalp was torn from the crown of his head, down over the eyebrows! he was insensible, and for some time we all thought him dead; but after a short interval his pulse began to beat, and he gradually showed signs of returning animation.

“It was a curious and somewhat interesting scene to see the party approach the spot where the accident happened. Not being able to get a chance of shooting, they threw their guns from them, and could scarcely be restrained from rushing on the fierce animal with their knives only. The bear all the time kept looking first at one, then at another, and casting her fierce and flaming eyes around the whole of us, as if ready to make a spring at each; yet she never let go her hold of the chief; but stood over him. Seeing herself surrounded by so many enemies, she moved her head from one position to another, and these movements gave us ultimately an opportunity of killing her.

“The misfortune produced a loud and clamorous scene of mourning among the chief’s relations; we hastened home, carrying our dead bears along with us, and arrived at the camp early in the morning of the fourth day. The chief remained for three days speechless. In cutting off the scalp and dressing the wound, we found the skull, according to our imperfect knowledge of anatomy, fractured in two or three places; and at the end of eight days, I extracted a bone measuring two inches long, of an oblong form, and another of about an inch square, with several smaller pieces, all from the crown of the head! The wound, however, gradually closed up and healed, except a small spot about the size of an English shilling. In fifteen days, by the aid of Indian medicine, he was able to walk about, and at the end of six weeks from the time he got wounded, he was on horseback again at the chace.”

More or less wolf-hunting was done through the winter, and Ross describes certain methods of catching and killing these animals.

The killing of wolves, foxes, and other wild animals by the whites was really only a recreation, and the traders preferred shooting them to any other mode of destruction. The wolves were usually afoot and searching for food at all hours of the day and night. They liked to get up on nearby hills or knolls, to sit and look about. It was the practice of the traders to scatter food about the places frequented by the wolves, and—when there were no wolves there—to practise shooting at a mark, watching where the balls hit and learning the elevation of the gun required to reach the spot, until finally many of them became very expert at this long-distance shooting.

“A band of Indians happening to come to the fort one day, and observing a wolf on one of the favourite places of resort, several of them prepared to take a circuitous turn to have a shot at the animal. Seeing them prepare—‘Try,’ said I, ‘and kill it from where you are,’ The Indians smiled at my ignorance. ‘Can the whites,’ said the chief, ‘kill it at that distance?’ ‘The whites,’ said I, ‘do not live by hunting or shooting as do the Indians, or they might.’ ‘There is no gun,’ continued the chief, ‘that could kill at that distance,’ By this time the wolf had laid hold of a bone, or piece of flesh, and was scampering off with it, at full speed, to the opposite woods. Taking hold of my gun—‘If we cannot kill it,’ said I, ‘we shall make it let go its prey.’ ‘My horse against your shot,’ called out the chief, ‘that you do not hit the wolf.’ ‘Done,’ said I; but I certainly thought within myself that the chief ran no great risk of losing his horse, nor the wolf of losing his life. Taking an elevation of some fifteen or sixteen feet over it, by chance I shot the animal in his flight, to the astonishment of the chief, as well as all present, who, clapping their hands to their mouths in amazement, measured the distance by five arrow-shots: nothing but their wonder could exceed their admiration of this effect of fire-arms.

“When the ball struck the wolf, it was in the act of leaping; and we may judge of its speed at the time, from the fact that the distance from whence it took the last leap to where it was lying stretched, measured twenty-four feet! The ball struck the wolf in the left thigh, and passing through the body, neck and head, it lodged in the lower jaw; I cut it out with my pen-knife. The chief, on delivering up his horse, which he did cheerfully, asked me for the ball, and that ball was the favourite ornament of his neck for years afterwards. The horse I returned to its owner. The Indians then asked me for the skin of the dead wolf; and to each of the guns belonging to the party was appended a piece: the Indians fancying that the skin would enable them, in future, to kill animals at a great distance.”

The following summer, McKenzie with Ross and ninety-five men went up the river and encamped at the site determined on for the new establishment of Fort Nez Percés, about one-half mile from the mouth of the Walla Walla. This country was occupied by Indians of the Shahaptian stock—fierce, good warriors, and impulsive—easily moved in one direction or the other. They seemed by no means favorable to the coming whites; did not shake hands with them, and in fact appeared disposed to boycott the new arrivals.