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

by George Bird Grinnell

“The Indians now assembled in great numbers, and were noisy and violent. In the first instance, they threw all the blame of the unfortunate affair on the whites; but in their rage and violence, they quarrelled among themselves, and this new direction in their excitement removed the odium in some degree from the whites, and diverted the tide of popular fury into another channel. During the affair, one of those unfortunate wretches called medicine-men happened to be sitting at the fort gate, when a brother of the man who had just shot himself went up to him, saying, ‘You dog! you have thrown your bad medicine on my brother, and he is dead; but you shall not live,’ and in saying so, he shot him dead on the spot. The ball, after passing through the man’s body, went more than three inches into one of the fort palisades. I was standing on the gallery at the moment he was shot, and had it been on any other occasion but in the midst of a quarrel between the Indians, we certainly should have avenged his death on the spot; for the murdered man was an excellent Indian, and a sincere friend of the whites.

“The scene now assumed a threatening aspect. Guns, bows, arrows, and every missile that could be laid hold of, came into requisition; and robes, feathers, bells, belts, and trinkets of every description, were rattling about in true savage style. The fellow who had just shot the medicine-man was shot in his turn, and before the chiefs arrived, or could get a hearing, three others were shot. The place appeared more like a field of battle than anything else; for besides the five bodies that lay lifeless on the ground, twice that number were desperately wounded.

“As soon as the deadly quarrel began, not knowing the intent of the Indians, nor how it might end, I shut the gates, and kept as clear of the quarrel as possible. In the midst of the confusion, the Indians poured in from all quarters, adding fuel to the flame; and some of them in approaching the place, thinking it was a quarrel between the whites and themselves, fired a shot or two at the fort before they were aware of the mistake. This made us take to our bastions: our matches were lighted, guns pointed, and we ourselves watched the manœuvres of the savages around us. One unguarded shot would have involved us in the quarrel, which it was our interest to avoid; as it would have put an end to all our prospects in the Snake as well as the Nez Percés quarter.

“As soon as the chiefs could get a hearing, peace was generally restored; and the five dead bodies were removed to the Indian camp, at a distance from the fort. Such a scene I should never wish to witness again. This affray, happening at our very door, gave us much uneasiness; as to keep the balance of good will at all times in our favour was a task of more than ordinary difficulty.”

The next day more Indians came in, and soon several tribes were represented. The whites were indirectly taxed with all the troubles, and there was a vast deal of speech-making and many threats. At last, however, after a week of counselling, the matter quieted down, the different tribes all smoked together, and peace was made—to last for a time.

Ross has much to say about the different tribes of Shoshoni stock and their relations to each other. He was long with them and studied them carefully.

The Ban-at-tees, which we call Bannocks, seem to have been held by the Snake tribes to the south and west as chargeable with most of the disturbances between the whites and the Snakes, and after a time it developed that the Indians that murdered Mr. Reid and his party in the autumn of 1813 were Bannocks.

During the winter a hunter named Hodgens became separated from his party during a violent snow-storm and lost his way. A little later, in the same way, he lost his horse; his gun became broken so that he could not make a fire, and during two days and two nights he was obliged to lie out without fire.

“On the fourteenth day, however, while scarcely able to crawl, he had the good luck to fall on the main camp of the War-are-ree-kas; where recognizing the chief’s tent, from the manner in which it was painted, he advanced towards it, looking more like a ghost than a living being. On his entering, Ama-ketsa, surprised at his unexpected arrival, and still more surprised at his emaciated appearance, stared him in the face for some time, and could scarcely believe that it was a white man; but as soon as he was convinced of the reality, and made acquainted with the wanderer’s forlorn state, he ordered one of his wives to put a new pair of shoes on his feet, gave him something to eat, and was extremely kind to him. Here Hodgens remained for eleven days in the chiefs tent, nursed with all the care and attention of a child of the family, until his strength was recovered; and as soon as he was on his legs again, Ama-ketsa furnished him with a horse, some provisions, and sent one of his own sons to conduct him to the whites. Although Hodgens could give the Indians no clue as to where the hunters were encamped, yet on the eighth day they arrived safe and sound at their friends’, and as straight as if they had been led by a line to them; which convinced our people that the Indians knew well the place of their retreat....

“A party of our people had been out a whole week in search of Hodgens, and found his dead horse, but despairing of finding him they returned to their camp; and all hope of ever finding Hodgens alive vanished: when he did come, their astonishment was equal to their delight. The friendly conduct of Ama-ketsa towards him was a strong proof of that chiefs good-will towards our people. During our friends’ stay in this place they had several surprises from the Indians, but they managed matters so well that no more of their horses were stolen.”