Jack gave the Crows the two scalps, the guns, and other things that he had taken, and they gave him a good mule and complimented him on being a great warrior. We told them that another Blackfeet war party was out, said to be looking for Crows, but that we did not know where they were. We got the women to cut some bunch-grass for our stock, in order that they might be in good condition to make an early start next morning. During the night Jack and I stood guard turn about, and many young Crows did the same. By daylight we had breakfasted. The chiefs had assembled to see us off, and I asked them if they knew where we might find the Gros Ventres. They replied that we would find them either south or east of, and near to, the Bear Paw Mountains. I told them that we should try to get them to go to Benton if we could do so. It was amusing to Jack and to me to listen to the chiefs as they gave us advice about travelling, just as if neither of us had had any experience. Though it was not needed, we took their advice in good part. We paid the women for the grass and started.
When we left the village, the war-dance was in progress in one part, and in another persons who had lost relations were mutilating themselves, cutting off their fingers or puncturing their legs and heads with the point of a knife, making the blood flow freely, and, as they did this, wailing and mourning the loss of friends and relatives in the fight. Jack, whose horses were good to lead, had saddled his mule. When we started on the back track, we kept east of our old trail. We apprehended little danger of meeting Sioux, Cheyennes, or Arapahoes, and we did not at all regard the other Blackfeet war parties.
We made a bee-line for the mouth of the Musselshell River, and got there at 9 A. M. next day, for Jack knew every foot of the country. No Indian signs were visible. We collected some dry poles, bound them together with willow twigs, put all our property on the raft, tied riatas to the end of it, and, mounting, drove the stock across the river, keeping hold of the ends of the ropes. The horses were good swimmers, and we soon had the raft across. After the horses had been rubbed down, saddled, and packed, we mounted and were off. Not many minutes were occupied in accomplishing the crossing. We had no time to waste, for the Indians might be upon us at any moment.
We now made a bee-line for the Little Rocky Mountains, and when we came to a creek called Poshett,[9] which rises on the south side of the Rockies, we began to see carcasses of the buffalo in different places. The meat had been taken off, and a careful inspection showed that the buffalo had not been slain more than five or six days. As we followed up the creek there were more signs that a run had recently been made.
[9] Fourchette Creek, southeast of Little Rocky Mountains.
We had travelled fast that day, and when we reached a cluster of box-elder trees, with good grass, we determined to remain there that night, unless some hostiles should come and veto our intention. Before unpacking we looked over the surrounding country for signs of village smoke, and, discovering nothing, we cooked, feasted, and kept our live-stock on the best of grass, all the while keeping a good lookout.
We had breakfast before daylight next morning, packed up, and were off. Following up the creek, we struck a lodge-pole trail going east, between the two Little Rockies. After it had passed the buttes, the trail bore to the left, going north, and now we saw fresh pony-tracks, a sure sign that the village was not far off. Before us lay a plateau, and beyond that was Beaver Creek, where we found the Gros Ventres village. We had been discovered before we got near it, being met outside the village by Famasi, the head chief, an old acquaintance, who escorted us to his lodge.
After feasting and smoking, a council of all the chiefs was held, and the object of our visit was stated to them. They consulted among themselves for some time, the result of the council being that they agreed to go to Benton, and they asked me when they would be wanted there. I told them that the commissioners were now waiting for them, and that they had better start the village for Benton to-morrow, for it would take them two and a half or three days to get there. It was sixty miles as the crow flies to Benton, but I expected to be there the following night. I told the chief that he had better send two or three of his men with us, and he agreed to do so.
I got six women to cut an abundance of grass for our stock. They also built a small corral for us. Before daylight the Indians turned out their ponies to graze, and by daylight breakfast was over, the lodges were down, and the women were getting everything ready for packing. The ponies were now brought in. Bear Wolf and Star Robe, two sub-chiefs, were selected to accompany us. Here Jack traded his mule for eight fine garnished robes. He wanted me to take seven of them, but I selected four. He packed the robes on one of his horses, and by seven o’clock we started, taking the best and most direct route to Benton, passing on the south side of the Bear Paw Mountains. We nooned at Eagle Creek, about half-way. Small bands of buffalo were seen, and we killed two fat ones. Selecting the choicest parts, we feasted as no mortals ever feasted, unless they have feasted on fat cow buffalo.
Our camp was about one and a half miles from the mountains. Star Robe, with my glass, was looking the mountain over, and when he returned to camp he said that seven Indians were coming down the stream afoot. Jack said: “Blackfeet! I will stop them from coming here!” He stripped down to his breech-clout, mounted his best horse, and took the ridge. I had Dick ready for emergency, in case something should happen to Jack. About half a mile up the stream Jack halted. Some two hundred yards beyond him the seven Indians came up on the ridge. I was watching every move made. One of the Indians approached Jack. After a short time he returned to the other Indian, and they all went back to the mountain. Jack informed us that he had told the Indians not to come nigh us, as they would get shot, but to go to Benton, where all the Indians were going to meet the white chiefs in council.