Tramping this western wilderness was hardy-man’s-pie, and one may search in vain for “cream puffs” in the trapper fraternity. Among this advance guard of the human flood were turbulent spirits. Surely persons of the wild and reckless type have their place in pioneering the way for the more conforming populace. Although they were generally of a kindred spirit, no company personnel ever conformed to a particular type. Indeed, a more heterogeneous assemblage could not be imagined. Some were cross-grained and lazy; some, young or superannuated; others, half-breed and faithless—a real challenge to the leadership of their employer. In time the ordinary men were weeded out, but those remaining were still as diverse as humans could be.
However, it was not as conscious agents of civilization that these rowdies entered the west. They reacted to the eternal impulse of personal curiosity and profit. For such ends they willingly perambulated the dreariest wastes, always at home, living from meal to meal, from day to day. Chance and danger were their daily lot and they gained the rare capacity to accept whatever came with good graces. Pleasant experiences produced rollicking good humor; hardships and trying scenes were soon forgotten. They became absolutely fearless, for destruction stalked them on every side in the form of famine, blizzard, wild beasts, and wilder savages. Death was a constant threat, but its grimaces only tended to develop men of nerve and hardihood who delighted in reckless feats. The trapper’s universal insensibility to danger proves that the human mind, habituated to constant risk, becomes callous like the body subjected to exposure. There was the hazard of perishing from hunger and thirst, of being cut off by war parties of the Sioux who scoured the plains, of having their horses stolen by Absarokas who infested the skirts of the mountains, or of being butchered by the Blackfeet who lurked among the defiles.
Trapping did not require literacy, but skill was indispensable to success. The trapper had his A-B-C’s to master. Any neglect of these lessons was at his peril. They were fur, meat, and danger. Signs of beaver, buffalo, and Indians must be read with the utmost accuracy. How did he perfect his craft?
Beginning with the objects about him, the trapper observed everything minutely. He learned to read the meaning of a turned leaf, a broken twig, and the behavior of domestic and wild animals. He achieved an intimate association with nature, and she talked to him. Not only did he form indelible impressions of topography by discerning senses, but he talked about them around the campfire. Each trapper learned from the others. One referred to this process as the Rocky Mountain college course.
W. S. Chapman
Part of a Trapper Brigade.
By reason of such apprenticeship frontiersmen were able to differentiate buffalo and grizzlies at astonishing distances. They read the clouds, understood bird flights, and sensed ambuscades. Practiced eyes, ears, and noses enabled them to classify Indians as to tribe, place, and even intent. They could converse with the representatives of many different nations and tribes. A smattering of French, Spanish, and several Indian languages—supplemented by signs—made conversation possible under all circumstances.
The trapper was not always at liberty. There were organization responsibilities. The fur brigade was under strict discipline. A junior partner in the company was usually in charge, and he was the law. There was a semi-military set of regulations regarding division of work; guard duty was rigorously enforced; efficient service and prompt obedience were required of every trapper.
Sometimes terrific exertion was involved in reaching a given trapping ground at the most opportune time. Upon one occasion Alexander Ross fairly forced his caravan to cleave a road through a snowbound pass. Said he:
Making this road through the snow (seven feet deep) took the united labour of fifty men and 240 horses, with all the other available means within our power, for twenty-one days. It must be allowed to have been an arduous undertaking, with such a medley of people and so difficult to manage; and more so, when it takes into consideration that our supper at night depended on the good or bad luck of our hunters during the day. To their exertions and perseverance, indeed, no small merit was due.[77]