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

by George Bird Grinnell

We had travelled some five miles when, like a flash, Jack dismounted. He followed on the trail on foot for a short distance, and returning held up five fingers and made the sign for the Blackfeet Indian. They had come up from the Musselshell River. We looked at the tracks carefully and found them fresh. The ground was sandy in places, and where an Indian’s foot had been, we discovered grains of sand still active, unsettled, dropping down from the sides of the track, a sure sign that they had been made recently. The same sign holds good with horse tracks, and this sign can be read by any person with a quick eye. Let him put his foot on some sand and then carefully and patiently watch how long it takes for the sand to become inactive. All such signs are carefully studied by mountaineers and Indians. It was plain enough to us. We went on, keeping a sharp lookout. Some three-quarters of a mile before us, we could see some timbered buttes, and the trail led directly toward these trees. There was a possibility that those five Indians might be there, and we put our tools in condition for instant use. We got within three hundred yards of the buttes, wheeled to the right, and putting our horses on a run, passed between two small hills and got beyond the first butte. Nothing was discovered. When we reached the trail, Jack dismounted, looked at it carefully, followed it a short distance and returned, saying: “The Indians are running here.” In front of us were other buttes with trees on them, and we were now satisfied that the Blackfeet had discovered us and were at this moment planning a coup by which they could take us without loss to themselves. To avoid being ambushed, we bore to the left, keeping a long rifle shot from the timber and a keen lookout. We had passed perhaps one hundred and fifty yards beyond the first butte, when two rifle shots were fired, the bullets going wide of the mark. We wheeled to the left, rode behind a small knoll and dismounted. Before we got there, three more shots were fired, the bullets coming unpleasantly close, but doing no harm.

We had no sooner dismounted than five Indians charged us with a yell, for they made sure they had us. Our outfit was a tempting bait for them. There were five good horses, to say nothing of arms and other property. If they had succeeded in taking us in, they could have returned to their people as great warriors, and would have been allowed to paint their spouses’ faces to their hearts’ content, and these would have been envied by all the other women in the village, who would not have been permitted to take part in the scalp dance that would follow.

We let the Indians come within sixty yards, and then we showed ourselves and ducked. The Indians, fool-like, all fired; and, before they could reload or draw bows and arrows, the Sharp and the Henry got to work, and in less time than it takes to write this, five Blackfeet were on their way to their happy hunting-ground. We got five Hudson’s Bay flintlock guns, bows and arrows, and other plunder. Jack scalped two of the Indians. I took a fancy war bonnet.

When we got back, Jack told the circumstances to his friends in the Piegan camp. They blamed us for killing these people, saying that as we were mounted we should have run away. If we had run, the Blackfeet would have been on our trail like a wolf on the trail of a wounded deer. They are hard to shake free from or to throw off the trail. Jack justified our acts, saying that they fired upon and charged us. If they had succeeded in getting us they would have scalped us both, they knowing him to be a Piegan. He added that any Indian, whether Blackfoot, Blood, or Piegan that shot at him and missed, must expect to be scalped. He was asked if he were not afraid that some of the friends of those we had put to sleep would revenge themselves by putting him to sleep. I could not but admire Jack when he answered them, his eyes sparkling like fire: “No! if any one or more want to try that, they all know when and where to find me.” As it was, we would not be annoyed any more by this war party.

Jack told me that West Porcupine Creek took its rise a short distance from here. Passing by this timbered country, we came to one that was open, where a few buffalo were in sight. Here the trail bore to the right, going south, and followed a ridge. Jack said that this ridge lay between East and West Porcupine Creeks. We travelled some twelve miles and, when we passed over a ridge, discovered the smoke of a village on the lower or easternmost stream. It seemed to be about eight miles distant. We moved toward it at a lively gait, but when we were about a mile from the village, we could discern a great commotion beyond or south of it. Horsemen were galloping back and forth in every direction as if in a sham battle. Jack said that he heard shots and that he believed a fight was on. We pushed ahead and got to the village, and found, sure enough, that the Sioux had attacked it, trying to run off the Crow ponies. They had been discovered by the young Crow herders and the alarm was given; and, since Indians always keep their best horses close to the village, the warriors soon mounted and rushed out to protect their herds. Nothing is more disastrous to a camp than to lose its horses, and they will fight as desperately for them as for their families.

Bull Goes Hunting, the chief, met us, and, as he did so, put his hand over his mouth, signifying his astonishment at seeing us. He was an old acquaintance, a friend, and we went to his lodge. I left Jack and our outfit in the care of the chief, while I mounted Dick to go out and see the fight. Jack wished to go, but I would not allow it, for he might do some desperate act, such as to charge through the Sioux and might go under. At this time, he was too valuable a man to lose. A few young warriors went with me, and we soon got to the battlefield. The first man we met was Spotted Horse, a war chief. There were not over two hundred Sioux, and fully three hundred Crows. We joined in the half fight half runaway that was going on; though they had been fighting some time, not over six on either side had been placed hors de combat. A few were wounded, and a few ponies put out of action. Neither of the opposing forces showed any generalship.

Without underrating the Indian, or overrating the paleface, I may say that I have been with white men on the plains where forty of them would have made short work of either of these contending forces. By some poetical writers, the Indian is credited with possessing Spartan bravery; but, with a few exceptions, the reverse is true. There are but few mountain men who cannot outgeneral an Indian.

After a while the Crow chiefs got together for a council, and the result was more like the work of school-boys than of warriors and chiefs. I sat in the council. They spoke in their own tongue, half of which I understood. They also made signs for every word spoken, and each sign was as a, b, c, to me, as of course they knew. They wished me to understand every word that they spoke. They asked my opinion of the fight and what they should do. I advised them to call off their warriors, to form three equal bodies of men, and to charge the Sioux on both flanks and at the front at the same time. Then the fight would end, and the Sioux would retreat. The Indians gave a grunt and said nothing.

We all joined again in what one might call playful fighting. I could see that the Sioux were growing discouraged, but a desultory fighting continued for a short time, when some fifty of the bravest Crow warriors charged the right flank of the Sioux and emptied a few saddles, but were checked by a stand made by a few Sioux. This stand was made in order to give some of their wounded an opportunity to leave the field. As the Sioux were better mounted than the Crows, they outstripped us on the retreat. We followed them about a mile, forcing them to abandon some thirty tired ponies, which the Crows captured. They scalped and mutilated a few Sioux and collected all the plunder on the field. All the wounded Sioux had retired before the fight was over. Indians will remove the slain to keep the enemies from scalping them. Whites do the same.

We returned to the village. The chiefs now asked my object in coming to their village. We were now sitting in the lodge, where our things were, and I got out the large envelope containing my letter. It was sealed with wax, and had an eagle stamped on it as large as a dollar. All this show had a moral effect on the Indians, and when they saw it they believed that I was a messenger from the Great Father. After smoking the medicine-pipe, as is customary before a council, I interpreted the contents of the letter in condensed form, the substance of which I have already given. I urged the Crows to go to Benton, telling them that it would be to their advantage to do so. They would receive many presents, and besides would make peace with their ancient enemies. They listened to me attentively, and then gave reply in the negative, saying that their ponies’ feet were getting tender and the animals thin in flesh, that there were no buffalo between where we were and Fort Benton, and that they must remain where they were in order to secure meat for their families. All this was common sense from their point of view, and left me no ground for argument. A Crow party had recently been to Fort Union, and had been informed by the traders there that the next moon some white chiefs would be there to meet the Crows in council. This proved to be the fact, as we afterward learned. The Crows could go to Fort Union by easy stages and be among buffalo all the way, provided their enemies did not run the game out of the country.