W. S. Chapman
Gun and Powder horn.
Wearing apparel was pretty much standardized—a five-piece suit of buckskin, including smoked skin moccasins which would not shrink from the frequent wettings incident to the trapping season. The pants, shirt, long coat, and hat were made of the same material. Fringes at the seams gave a dash of ornamentation and hastened drying. Clothing was mostly “homemade” during the wintertime.
These accouterments were not only durable, but they were comfortable as well, and they were pleasant to the eye. That the latter item was a desideratum there can be no doubt. Indian maidens were fair to behold, and after all the trapper was human.
This phase of the trapper’s life was cogently summarized by one observer:
From all that I hear I conclude that in the palmy days of the fur trade, the bands of white trappers in the West were little more than bands of white Indians, having their Indian wives, and all the paraphernalia of Indian life, moving from place to place, as the beaver became scarce, and subsisting like the Indians upon the products of the country.[81]
Squaw men were both numerous and respected. Lisa, Bridger, Provot, Ogden, Meek, Carson, Rose, McKenzie, and Beckwourth were wise and judicious men. They well knew the utility of the willing, efficient, and respectful Indian women for their own sakes. Then, too, there were political considerations which account for the fact that in some cases several squaws were taken at once, or in rapid succession. Marriage has always been employed as a means of ingratiation by the outsider. It may be said to their credit, with a few exceptions, genuine mountain men were faithful to their Indian wives.[82]
The Earl of Dunraven has left an excellent description of a squaw man’s camp which he visited in Yellowstone Park during the summer of 1874:
These men looked very happy and comfortable. Unquestionably the proper way for a man to travel with ease and luxury in these deserts is for him to take unto himself a helpmate chosen from the native population. No amount of art, industry, and study can rival the instinct displayed by savages in making themselves comfortable, and in utilizing for their own benefit all the accidents of Nature. Nobody can choose a camp as they can: nobody knows how to make a fire so quickly or so well: nobody can so wisely pick a shady, cool place in summer heat, or choose one sheltered from wind and storms in winter. With an Indian wife to look after his bodily comforts, a man may devote himself to hunting, fishing, or trapping without a thought or care. He may make his mind quite easy about all household matters. His camp will be well arranged, the tent-pegs driven securely home, the stock watered, picketed, and properly cared for, a good supper cooked, his bed spread out, and everything made comfortable; his clothes and hunting-gear looked after, the buttons sewn on his shirt—if he has got any shirt or any buttons; and all the little trivial incidents of life which, if neglected, wear out one’s existence, he will find carefully attended to by a willing and affectionate slave.
They had a lot to tell us also about their travels and adventures, about the wood and water supply, and the abundance or deficiency of game. So we sat down on bales of beaver-skins and retailed all the civilized intelligence we could think of; and the women came and brought us ember for our pipes, spread out robes for us and made us at home; and the little fat, chubby children, wild and shy as young wolves, peered at us from behind the tent out of their round, black, beady eyes.[83]
The premier social event among mountain men was the annual rendezvous. This institution was inaugurated on Green River in July, 1824, by General William H. Ashley, owner of the interests that evolved into the Rocky Mountain Fur Company. The Ashley men traveled to the fur region in concert. Upon arrival, they were divided into “brigades” and dispersed into various districts with instructions to reassemble at an appointed time and place. In this manner the rendezvous became a sort of roving trading place; it served in lieu of a post. These shifting locations were occasioned by the need of forage for large numbers of horses. For sixteen years this combination of market, fiesta, and carousal held sway in such romantic spots as Green River, Ogden’s Hole, Pierre’s Hole—now Teton Basin in Idaho—and the Horse Creek-Green River country south of Jackson’s Hole in Wyoming. In her book, The River of the West, Frances Fuller Victor tells of a rendezvous held by Jim Bridger and his trappers. The place was Hayden Valley; the season, 1838.[84]