History of Early Steamboat Navigation on the Missouri River, Volume 2 (of 2) / Life and Adventures of Joseph La Barge

by Hiram Martin Chittenden

LATTA NOT AFRAID.

It was toward noon of the 7th of July that the two boats hove in sight of the Tobacco Garden, and there, true to Dauphin’s prediction, they beheld on the south shore a large body of Indians assembled with the evident purpose of stopping them. There was no use in trying to run a gantlet like that, and accordingly the boats made fast to the opposite sandbar, the Shreveport about one hundred yards below the Robert Campbell. A parley ensued with the Indians, who were so near that it was perfectly practicable to talk back and forth. La Barge asked them what they wanted. They said they wanted the balance of their annuities; they wanted no trouble, but simply their just dues. The agent refused them the goods, but “requested the Captain to send his yawl and bring aboard some of the chiefs and head men that we could have a talk and ... make them a present of sugar, coffee, tobacco, etc., and by this means quiet them.” The Indians likewise wanted the yawl to be sent out, but wanted the agent to go with it. They would then send their principal chiefs back with him to the boat, where everything could be talked over. They were very shrewd, and the agent almost fell into the trap.[55] The Captain told him that he could not possibly think of ordering the yawl out, considering the disposition of the Indians and their evident purpose of mischief. Latta replied: “Why, I’ll go; I’m not afraid.” “All right,” answered the Captain, “if you can get volunteers; I will not order a crew out.” They then went to the mate, Miller by name, and a crew was made up to take Latta to the shore. When the yawl was ready the Captain sent word to the agent, who had disappeared upstairs. The latter sent back a reply that he was suddenly taken ill and could not possibly go, but to send the men and bring the chiefs on board.[56]

A BRAVE CREW.

The crew of the Robert Campbell were not lacking in physical courage, and the necessary force to man the yawl was easily made up. It was a little after noon when the yawl left the boat. There is no truth in the statements of Boller and Larpenteur that the men were forced to go and clung to the side of the steamer until the mate threatened to cut off their fingers if they did not let go. It was easy enough for them to get out of going if they chose to. The crew of the yawl consisted of seven men. The steersman, a gallant fellow of the name of Andy Stinger, sat in the stern. Two men of the names of O’Mally and Chris Sharky sat in the bow. There were four oarsmen, one of them a young man of the name of Martin, and the other, one of the Irishmen who had been whipped by “Yankee Jack,” as related elsewhere. The yawl put off, and as the distance was very short, it quickly reached the opposite shore. It struck the beach head on and then swung around under the force of the current, so that it lay alongside of the bank.[57]

ANDY STINGER’S PRESENCE OF MIND.

A chief and three Indians were under the cut bank on the beach when the yawl arrived. One of the Indians stood exactly opposite Stinger, with a gun in his hand covered with a leather case. The other two Indians were armed with spears. The chief was a fierce-looking man, and it seemed as if his eye would pierce one through and through. Stinger motioned him to get into the yawl. The men meanwhile were sitting quietly with their oars across their laps. The chief gave some quick directions and in an instant the two Indians with spears jumped into the boat and the one with the gun stripped the leather case off. Stinger knew what this meant, and with great presence of mind instantly threw himself into the water on the river side of the boat, where it was fortunately four or five feet deep. Slipping up along the boat he seized it by the gunwale amidships and dragged it from the bank. The movement, however, quick as it was, was not quick enough. The two young bucks who had leaped into the boat thrust their spears into the bodies of two of the oarsmen, killing them instantly. A third was killed by the Indian with the gun, who had missed his chance at Stinger, and a fourth was severely wounded by an arrow from the bank. The two men in the bow instantly threw themselves into the bottom of the yawl.

BOATS RETURN FIRE.

The Indians had no time to carry the attack further. The crews of both the steamboats were watching with breathless anxiety the progress of events. When they saw Stinger jump into the water they thought him killed. Someone exclaimed, “There goes Andy,” and instantly both boats responded with their entire armament. This included two howitzers on the hurricane deck of the Robert Campbell and one on the Shreveport, together with weapons of various sorts belonging to the passengers and crew. One rattle-brained Irishman was so upset that he brandished his revolver in the air, firing off into space without the slightest regard as to the whereabouts of the enemy. The fire, on the whole, was very effective. Numbers of the Indians were seen to fall, and Captain La Barge afterward learned through Pierre Garreau, the interpreter at Fort Berthold, that there were eighteen men and twenty horses killed and many wounded. The Indians soon withdrew, and in about an hour some were seen trying to get water for their wounded near a pile of driftwood half a mile below. It was an intensely sultry day. The howitzers were turned on them and they disappeared.

ANDY ANGRY.

Returning to the yawl, we find that Andy Stinger, protected behind the gunwale, was steadily pulling the boat into the stream and swimming toward the sandbar as the current drifted him down. When about halfway across he called to the men to get up, while he himself climbed into the yawl, which was then rowed to the bank. The people on the two boats were so absorbed with the battle that no one thought of going to the assistance of the yawl crew. The wounded man and the two who were unharmed got out and walked up the beach. Stinger was thus left alone to drag the yawl and its mournful cargo up alongside the boat. This apparent neglect fired him to a desperate pitch, and he let go some powerful language to the mate and others of the crew. Captain La Barge presently came aft and looked into the yawl. He said not a word, but turned away shaking his head in a manner that showed plainly enough what was passing in his mind.