Astoria
by Washington Irving
Hypertext Meanings and Commentaries
from the Encyclopedia of the Self
by Mark Zimmerman

BY WASHINGTON IRVING

AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION

IN THE COURSE of occasional visits to Canada many years since, I
became intimately acquainted with some of the principal partners
of the great Northwest Fur Company, who at that time lived in
genial style at Montreal, and kept almost open house for the
stranger. At their hospitable boards I occasionally met with
partners, and clerks, and hardy fur traders from the interior
posts; men who had passed years remote from civilized society,
among distant and savage tribes, and who had wonders to recount
of their wide and wild peregrinations, their hunting exploits,
and their perilous adventures and hair-breadth escapes among the
Indians. I was at an age when imagination lends its coloring to
everything, and the stories of these Sinbads of the wilderness
made the life of a trapper and fur trader perfect romance to me.
I even meditated at one time a visit to the remote posts of the
company in the boats which annually ascended the lakes and
rivers, being thereto invited by one of the partners; and I have
ever since regretted that I was prevented by circumstances from
carrying my intention into effect. From those early impressions,
the grand enterprise of the great fur companies, and the
hazardous errantry of their associates in the wild parts of our
vast continent, have always been themes of charmed interest to
me; and I have felt anxious to get at the details of their
adventurous expeditions among the savage tribes that peopled the
depths of the wilderness.

About two years ago, not long after my return from a tour upon
the prairies of the far West, I had a conversation with my
friend, Mr. John Jacob Astor, relative to that portion of our
country, and to the adventurous traders to Santa Fe and the
Columbia. This led him to advert to a great enterprise set on
foot and conducted by him, between twenty and thirty years since,
having for its object to carry the fur trade across the Rocky
Mountains, and to sweep the shores of the Pacific.

Finding that I took an interest in the subject, he expressed a
regret that the true nature and extent of his enterprise and its
national character and importance had never been understood, and
a wish that I would undertake to give an account of it. The
suggestion struck upon the chord of early associations already
vibrating in my mind. It occurred to me that a work of this kind
might comprise a variety of those curious details, so interesting
to me, illustrative of the fur trade; of its remote and
adventurous enterprises, and of the various people, and tribes,
and castes, and characters, civilized and savage, affected by its
operations. The journals, and letters, also, of the adventurers
by sea and land employed by Mr. Astor in his comprehensive
project, might throw light upon portions of our country quite out
of the track of ordinary travel, and as yet but little known. I
therefore felt disposed to undertake the task, provided documents
of sufficient extent and minuteness could be furnished to me. All
the papers relative to the enterprise were accordingly submitted
to my inspection. Among them were journals and letters narrating
expeditions by sea, and journeys to and fro across the Rocky
Mountains by routes before untravelled, together with documents
illustrative of savage and colonial life on the borders of the
Pacific. With such material in hand, I undertook the work. The
trouble of rummaging among business papers, and of collecting and
collating facts from amidst tedious and commonplace details, was
spared me by my nephew, Pierre M. Irving, who acted as my
pioneer, and to whom I am greatly indebted for smoothing my path
and lightening my labors.

As the journals, on which I chiefly depended, had been kept by
men of business, intent upon the main object of the enterprise,
and but little versed in science, or curious about matters not
immediately bearing upon their interest, and as they were written
often in moments of fatigue or hurry, amid the inconveniences of
wild encampments, they were often meagre in their details,
furnishing hints to provoke rather than narratives to satisfy
inquiry. I have, therefore, availed myself occasionally of
collateral lights supplied by the published journals of other
travellers who have visited the scenes described: such as Messrs.
Lewis and Clarke, Bradbury, Breckenridge, Long, Franchere, and
Ross Cox, and make a general acknowledgment of aid received from
these quarters.

The work I here present to the public is necessarily of a
rambling and somewhat disjointed nature, comprising various
expeditions and adventures by land and sea. The facts, however,
will prove to be linked and banded together by one grand scheme,
devised and conducted by a master spirit; one set of characters,
also, continues throughout, appearing occasionally, though
sometimes at long intervals, and the whole enterprise winds up by
a regular catastrophe; so that the work, without any labored
attempt at artificial construction, actually possesses much of
that unity so much sought after in works of fiction, and
considered so important to the interest of every history.

WASHINGTON IRVING

                           CHAPTER I.
                                
Objects of American Enterprise. Gold Hunting and Fur Trading.
Their Effect on Colonization. Early French Canadian Settlers.
Ottawa and Huron Hunters. An Indian Trading Camp. Coureurs Des
Bois, or Rangers of the Woods. Their Roaming Life. Their Revels
     and Excesses. Licensed Traders. Missionaries. Trading
Posts. Primitive French Canadian Merchant. His Establishment and
    Dependents. British Canadian Fur Merchant. Origin of the
   Northwest Company. Its Constitution. Its Internal Trade. A
          Candidate for the Company. Privations in the
  Wilderness. Northwest Clerks. Northwest Partners. Northwest
    Nabobs. Feudal Notions in the Forests. The Lords of the
   Lakes. Fort William. Its Parliamentary Hall and Banqueting
              Room. Wassailing in the Wilderness.

TWO leading objects of commercial gain have given birth to wide
and daring enterprise in the early history of the Americas; the
precious metals of the South, and the rich peltries of the North.
While the fiery and magnificent Spaniard, inflamed with the mania
for gold, has extended his discoveries and conquests over those
brilliant countries scorched by the ardent sun of the tropics,
the adroit and buoyant Frenchman, and the cool and calculating
Briton, have pursued the less splendid, but no less lucrative,
traffic in furs amidst the hyperborean regions of the Canadas,
until they have advanced even within the Arctic Circle.

These two pursuits have thus in a manner been the pioneers and
precursors of civilization. Without pausing on the borders, they
have penetrated at once, in defiance of difficulties and dangers,
to the heart of savage countries: laying open the hidden secrets
of the wilderness; leading the way to remote regions of beauty
and fertility that might have remained unexplored for ages, and
beckoning after them the slow and pausing steps of agriculture
and civilization.

It was the fur trade, in fact, which gave early sustenance and
vitality to the great Canadian provinces. Being destitute of the
precious metals, at that time the leading objects of American
enterprise, they were long neglected by the parent country. The
French adventurers, however, who had settled on the banks of the
St. Lawrence, soon found that in the rich peltries of the
interior, they had sources of wealth that might almost rival the
mines of Mexico and Peru. The Indians, as yet unacquainted with
the artificial value given to some descriptions of furs, in
civilized life, brought quantities of the most precious kinds and
bartered them away for European trinkets and cheap commodities.
Immense profits were thus made by the early traders, and the
traffic was pursued with avidity.

As the valuable furs soon became scarce in the neighborhood of
the settlements, the Indians of the vicinity were stimulated to
take a wider range in their hunting expeditions; they were
generally accompanied on these expeditions by some of the traders
or their dependents, who shared in the toils and perils of the
chase, and at the same time made themselves acquainted with the
best hunting and trapping grounds, and with the remote tribes,
whom they encouraged to bring their peltries to the settlements.
In this way the trade augmented, and was drawn from remote
quarters to Montreal. Every now and then a large body of Ottawas,
Hurons, and other tribes who hunted the countries bordering on
the great lakes, would come down in a squadron of light canoes,
laden with beaver skins, and other spoils of their year's
hunting. The canoes would be unladen, taken on shore, and their
contents disposed in order. A camp of birch bark would be pitched
outside of the town, and a kind of primitive fair opened with
that grave ceremonial so dear to the Indians. An audience would
be demanded of the governor-general, who would hold the
conference with becoming state, seated in an elbow-chair, with
the Indians ranged in semicircles before him, seated on the
ground, and silently smoking their pipes. Speeches would be made,
presents exchanged, and the audience would break up in universal
good humor.

Now would ensue a brisk traffic with the merchants, and all
Montreal would be alive with naked Indians running from shop to
shop, bargaining for arms, kettles, knives, axes, blankets,
bright-colored cloths, and other articles of use or fancy; upon
all which, says an old French writer, the merchants were sure to
clear at least two hundred per cent. There was no money used in
this traffic, and, after a time, all payment in spirituous
liquors was prohibited, in consequence of the frantic and
frightful excesses and bloody brawls which they were apt to
occasion.

Their wants and caprices being supplied, they would take leave of
the governor, strike their tents, launch their canoes, and ply
their way up the Ottawa to the lakes.

A new and anomalous class of men gradually grew out of this
trade. These were called coureurs des bois, rangers of the woods;
originally men who had accompanied the Indians in their hunting
expeditions, and made themselves acquainted with remote tracts
and tribes; and who now became, as it were, peddlers of the
wilderness. These men would set out from Montreal with canoes
well stocked with goods, with arms and ammunition, and would make
their way up the mazy and wandering rivers that interlace the
vast forests of the Canadas, coasting the most remote lakes, and
creating new wants and habitudes among the natives. Sometimes
they sojourned for months among them, assimilating to their
tastes and habits with the happy facility of Frenchmen, adopting
in some degree the Indian dress, and not unfrequently taking to
themselves Indian wives.

Twelve, fifteen, eighteen months would often elapse without any
tidings of them, when they would come sweeping their way down the
Ottawa in full glee, their canoes laden down with packs of beaver
skins. Now came their turn for revelry and extravagance. "You
would be amazed," says an old writer already quoted, "if you saw
how lewd these peddlers are when they return; how they feast and
game, and how prodigal they are, not only in their clothes, but
upon their sweethearts. Such of them as are married have the
wisdom to retire to their own houses; but the bachelors act just
as an East Indiaman and pirates are wont to do; for they lavish,
eat, drink, and play all away as long as the goods hold out; and
when these are gone, they even sell their embroidery, their lace,
and their clothes. This done, they are forced upon a new voyage
for subsistence."

Many of these coureurs des bois became so accustomed to the
Indian mode of living, and the perfect freedom of the wilderness,
that they lost relish for civilization, and identified themselves
with the savages among whom they dwelt, or could only be
distinguished from them by superior licentiousness. Their conduct
and example gradually corrupted the natives, and impeded the
works of the Catholic missionaries, who were at this time
prosecuting their pious labors in the wilds of Canada.

To check these abuses, and to protect the fur trade from various
irregularities practiced by these loose adventurers, an order was
issued by the French government prohibiting all persons, on pain
of death, from trading into the interior of the country without a
license.

These licenses were granted in writing by the governor-general,
and at first were given only to persons of respectability; to
gentlemen of broken fortunes; to old officers of the army who had
families to provide for; or to their widows. Each license
permitted the fitting out of two large canoes with merchandise
for the lakes, and no more than twenty-five licenses were to be
issued in one year. By degrees, however, private licenses were
also granted, and the number rapidly increased. Those who did not
choose to fit out the expeditions themselves, were permitted to
sell them to the merchants; these employed the coureurs des bois,
or rangers of the woods, to undertake the long voyages on shares,
and thus the abuses of the old system were revived and
continued.

The pious missionaries employed by the Roman Catholic Church to
convert the Indians, did everything in their power to counteract
the profligacy caused and propagated by these men in the heart of
the wilderness. The Catholic chapel might often be seen planted
beside the trading house, and its spire surmounted by a cross,
towering from the midst of an Indian village, on the banks of a
river or a lake. The missions had often a beneficial effect on
the simple sons of the forest, but had little power over the
renegades from civilization.

At length it was found necessary to establish fortified posts at
the confluence of the rivers and the lakes for the protection of
the trade, and the restraint of these profligates of the
wilderness. The most important of these was at Michilimackinac,
situated at the strait of the same name, which connects Lakes
Huron and Michigan. It became the great interior mart and place
of deposit, and some of the regular merchants who prosecuted the
trade in person, under their licenses, formed establishments
here. This, too, was a rendezvous for the rangers of the woods,
as well those who came up with goods from Montreal as those who
returned with peltries from the interior. Here new expeditions
were fitted out and took their departure for Lake Michigan and
the Mississippi; Lake Superior and the Northwest; and here the
peltries brought in return were embarked for Montreal.

The French merchant at his trading post, in these primitive days
of Canada, was a kind of commercial patriarch. With the lax
habits and easy familiarity of his race, he had a little world of
self-indulgence and misrule around him. He had his clerks, canoe
men, and retainers of all kinds, who lived with him on terms of
perfect sociability, always calling him by his Christian name; he
had his harem of Indian beauties, and his troop of halfbreed
children; nor was there ever wanting a louting train of Indians,
hanging about the establishment, eating and drinking at his
expense in the intervals of their hunting expeditions.

The Canadian traders, for a long time, had troublesome
competitors in the British merchants of New York, who inveigled
the Indian hunters and the coureurs des bois to their posts, and
traded with them on more favorable terms. A still more formidable
opposition was organized in the Hudson's Bay Company, chartered
by Charles II., in 1670, with the exclusive privilege of
establishing trading houses on the shores of that bay and its
tributary rivers; a privilege which they have maintained to the
present day. Between this British company and the French
merchants of Canada, feuds and contests arose about alleged
infringements of territorial limits, and acts of violence and
bloodshed occurred between their agents.

In 1762, the French lost possession of Canada, and the trade fell
principally into the hands of British subjects. For a time,
however, it shrunk within narrow limits. The old coureurs des
bois were broken up and dispersed, or, where they could be met
with, were slow to accustom themselves to the habits and manners
of their British employers. They missed the freedom, indulgence,
and familiarity of the old French trading houses, and did not
relish the sober exactness, reserve, and method of the new-
comers. The British traders, too, were ignorant of the country,
and distrustful of the natives. They had reason to be so. The
treacherous and bloody affairs of Detroit and Michilimackinac
showed them the lurking hostility cherished by the savages, who
had too long been taught by the French to regard them as enemies.

It was not until the year 1766, that the trade regained its old
channels; but it was then pursued with much avidity and emulation
by individual merchants, and soon transcended its former bounds.
Expeditions were fitted out by various persons from Montreal and
Michilimackinac, and rivalships and jealousies of course ensued.
The trade was injured by their artifices to outbid and undermine
each other; the Indians were debauched by the sale of spirituous
liquors, which had been prohibited under the French rule. Scenes
of drunkeness, brutality, and brawl were the consequence, in the
Indian villages and around the trading houses; while bloody feuds
took place between rival trading parties when they happened to
encounter each other in the lawless depths of the wilderness.

To put an end to these sordid and ruinous contentions, several of
the principal merchants of Montreal entered into a partnership in
the winter of 1783, which was augmented by amalgamation with a
rival company in 1787. Thus was created the famous "Northwest
Company," which for a time held a lordly sway over the wintry
lakes and boundless forests of the Canadas, almost equal to that
of the East India Company over the voluptuous climes and
magnificent realms of the Orient.

The company consisted of twenty-three shareholders, or partners,
but held in its employ about two thousand persons as clerks,
guides, interpreters, and "voyageurs," or boatmen. These were
distributed at various trading posts, established far and wide on
the interior lakes and rivers, at immense distances from each
other, and in the heart of trackless countries and savage tribes.

Several of the partners resided in Montreal and Quebec, to manage
the main concerns of the company. These were called agents, and
were personages of great weight and importance; the other
partners took their stations at the interior posts, where they
remained throughout the winter, to superintend the intercourse
with the various tribes of Indians. They were thence called
wintering partners.

The goods destined for this wide and wandering traffic were put
up at the warehouses of the company in Montreal, and conveyed in
batteaux, or boats and canoes, up the river Attawa, or Ottowa,
which falls into the St. Lawrence near Montreal, and by other
rivers and portages, to Lake Nipising, Lake Huron, Lake Superior,
and thence, by several chains of great and small lakes, to Lake
Winnipeg, Lake Athabasca, and the Great Slave Lake. This singular
and beautiful system of internal seas, which renders an immense
region of wilderness so accessible to the frail bark of the
Indian or the trader, was studded by the remote posts of the
company, where they carried on their traffic with the surrounding
tribes.

The company, as we have shown, was at first a spontaneous
association of merchants; but, after it had been regularly
organized, admission into it became extremely difficult. A
candidate had to enter, as it were, "before the mast," to undergo
a long probation, and to rise slowly by his merits and services.
He began, at an early age, as a clerk, and served an
apprenticeship of seven years, for which he received one hundred
pounds sterling, was maintained at the expense of the company,
and furnished with suitable clothing and equipments. His
probation was generally passed at the interior trading posts;
removed for years from civilized society, leading a life almost
as wild and precarious as the savages around him; exposed to the
severities of a northern winter, often suffering from a scarcity
of food, and sometimes destitute for a long time of both bread
and salt. When his apprenticeship had expired, he received a
salary according to his deserts, varying from eighty to one
hundred and sixty pounds sterling, and was now eligible to the
great object of his ambition, a partnership in the company;
though years might yet elapse before he attained to that enviable
station.

Most of the clerks were young men of good families, from the
Highlands of Scotland, characterized by the perseverance, thrift,
and fidelity of their country, and fitted by their native
hardihood to encounter the rigorous climate of the North, and to
endure the trials and privations of their lot; though it must not
be concealed that the constitutions of many of them became
impaired by the hardships of the wilderness, and their stomachs
injured by occasional famishing, and especially by the want of
bread and salt. Now and then, at an interval of years, they were
permitted to come down on a visit to the establishment at
Montreal, to recruit their health, and to have a taste of
civilized life; and these were brilliant spots in their
existence.

As to the principal partners, or agents, who resided in Montreal
and Quebec, they formed a kind of commercial aristocracy, living
in lordly and hospitable style. Their posts, and the pleasures,
dangers, adventures, and mishaps which they had shared together
in their wild wood life, had linked them heartily to each other,
so that they formed a convivial fraternity. Few travellers that
have visited Canada some thirty years since, in the days of the
M'Tavishes, the M'Gillivrays, the M'Kenzies, the Frobishers, and
the other magnates of the Northwest, when the company was in all
its glory, but must remember the round of feasting and revelry
kept up among these hyperborean nabobs.

Sometimes one or two partners, recently from the interior posts,
would make their appearance in New York, in the course of a tour
of pleasure and curiosity. On these occasions there was a degree
of magnificence of the purse about them, and a peculiar
propensity to expenditure at the goldsmith's and jeweler's for
rings, chains, brooches, necklaces, jeweled watches, and other
rich trinkets, partly for their own wear, partly for presents to
their female acquaintances; a gorgeous prodigality, such as was
often to be noticed in former times in Southern planters and West
India creoles, when flush with the profits of their plantations.

To behold the Northwest Company in all its state and grandeur,
however, it was necessary to witness an annual gathering at the
great interior place of conference established at Fort William,
near what is called the Grand Portage, on Lake Superior. Here two
or three of the leading partners from Montreal proceeded once a
year to meet the partners from the various trading posts of the
wilderness, to discuss the affairs of the company during the
preceding year, and to arrange plans for the future.

On these occasions might be seen the change since the
unceremonious times of the old French traders; now the
aristocratic character of the Briton shone forth magnificently,
or rather the feudal spirit of the Highlander. Every partner who
had charge of an interior post, and a score of retainers at his
Command, felt like the chieftain of a Highland clan, and was
almost as important in the eyes of his dependents as of himself.
To him a visit to the grand conference at Fort William was a most
important event, and he repaired there as to a meeting of
parliament.

The partners from Montreal, however, were the lords of the
ascendant; coming from the midst of luxurious and ostentatious
life, they quite eclipsed their compeers from the woods, whose
forms and faces had been battered and hardened by hard living and
hard service, and whose garments and equipments were all the
worse for wear. Indeed, the partners from below considered the
whole dignity of the company as represented in their persons, and
conducted themselves in suitable style. They ascended the rivers
in great state, like sovereigns making a progress: or rather like
Highland chieftains navigating their subject lakes. They were
wrapped in rich furs, their huge canoes freighted with every
convenience and luxury, and manned by Canadian voyageurs, as
obedient as Highland clansmen. They carried up with them cooks
and bakers, together with delicacies of every kind, and abundance
of choice wines for the banquets which attended this great
convocation. Happy were they, too, if they could meet with some
distinguished stranger; above all, some titled member of the
British nobility, to accompany them on this stately occasion, and
grace their high solemnities.

Fort William, the scene of this important annual meeting, was a
considerable village on the banks of Lake Superior. Here, in an
immense wooden building, was the great council hall, as also the
banqueting chamber, decorated with Indian arms and accoutrements,
and the trophies of the fur trade. The house swarmed at this time
with traders and voyageurs, some from Montreal, bound to the
interior posts; some from the interior posts, bound to Montreal.
The councils were held in great state, for every member felt as
if sitting in parliament, and every retainer and dependent looked
up to the assemblage with awe, as to the House of Lords. There
was a vast deal of solemn deliberation, and hard Scottish
reasoning, with an occasional swell of pompous declamation.

These grave and weighty councils were alternated by huge feasts
and revels, like some of the old feasts described in Highland
castles. The tables in the great banqueting room groaned under
the weight of game of all kinds; of venison from the woods, and
fish from the lakes, with hunters' delicacies, such as buffalos'
tongues, and beavers' tails, and various luxuries from Montreal,
all served up by experienced cooks brought for the purpose. There
was no stint of generous wine, for it was a hard-drinking period,
a time of loyal toasts, and bacchanalian songs, and brimming
bumpers.

While the chiefs thus revelled in hall, and made the rafters
resound with bursts of loyalty and old Scottish songs, chanted in
voices cracked and sharpened by the northern blast, their
merriment was echoed and prolonged by a mongrel legion of
retainers, Canadian voyageurs, half-breeds, Indian hunters, and
vagabond hangers-on who feasted sumptuously without on the crumbs
that fell from their table, and made the welkin ring with old
French ditties, mingled with Indian yelps and yellings.

Such was the Northwest Company in its powerful and prosperous
days, when it held a kind of feudal sway over a vast domain of
lake and forest. We are dwelling too long, perhaps, upon these
individual pictures, endeared to us by the associations of early
life, when, as yet a stripling youth, we have sat at the
hospitable boards of the "mighty Northwesters," the lords of the
ascendant at Montreal, and gazed with wondering and inexperienced
eye at the baronial wassailing, and listened with astonished ear
to their tales of hardship and adventures. It is one object of
our task, however, to present scenes of the rough life of the
wilderness, and we are tempted to fix these few memorials of a
transient state of things fast passing into oblivion; for the
feudal state of Fort William is at an end, its council chamber is
silent and deserted; its banquet hall no longer echoes to the
burst of loyalty, or the "auld world" ditty; the lords of the
lakes and forests have passed away; and the hospitable magnates
of Montreal where are they?

                          CHAPTER II.
                                
Rise of the Mackinaw Company. Attempt of the American Government
to Counteract Foreign Influence Over the Indian Tribes. John
   Jacob Astor. His Birth-Place. His Arrival in the United
States. What First Turned His Attention to the Fur Trade. His
Character, Enterprises, and Success. His Communications With the
   American Government. Origin of the American Fur Company

THE success of the Northwest Company stimulated further
enterprise in this opening and apparently boundless field of
profit. The traffic of that company lay principally in the high
northern latitudes, while there were immense regions to the south
and west, known to abound with valuable peltries; but which, as
yet, had been but little explored by the fur trader. A new
association of British merchants was therefore formed, to
prosecute the trade in this direction. The chief factory was
established at the old emporium of Michilimackinac, from which
place the association took its name, and was commonly called the
Mackinaw Company.

While the Northwesters continued to push their enterprises into
the hyperborean regions from their stronghold at Fort William,
and to hold almost sovereign sway over the tribes of the upper
lakes and rivers, the Mackinaw Company sent forth their light
perogues and barks, by Green Bay, Fox River, and the Wisconsin,
to that areas artery of the West, the Mississippi; and down that
stream to all its tributary rivers. In this way they hoped soon
to monopolize the trade with all the tribes on the southern and
western waters, and of those vast tracts comprised in ancient
Louisiana.

The government of the United States began to view with a wary eye
the growing influence thus acquired by combinations of
foreigners, over the aboriginal tribes inhabiting its
territories, and endeavored to counteract it. For this purpose,
as early as 1796, the government sent out agents to establish
rival trading houses on the frontier, so as to supply the wants
of the Indians, to link their interests and feelings with those
of the people of the United States, and to divert this important
branch of trade into national channels.

The expedition, however, was unsuccessful, as most commercial
expedients are prone to be, where the dull patronage of
government is counted upon to outvie the keen activity of private
enterprise. What government failed to effect, however, with all
its patronage and all its agents, was at length brought about by
the enterprise and perseverance of a single merchant, one of its
adopted citizens; and this brings us to speak of the individual
whose enterprise is the especial subject of the following pages;
a man whose name and character are worthy of being enrolled in
the history of commerce, as illustrating its noblest aims and
soundest maxims. A few brief anecdotes of his early life, and of
the circumstances which first determined him to the branch of
commerce of which we are treating, cannot be but interesting.

John Jacob Astor, the individual in question, was born in the
honest little German village of Waldorf, near Heidelberg, on the
banks of the Rhine. He was brought up in the simplicity of rural
life, but, while yet a mere stripling, left his home, and
launched himself amid the busy scenes of London, having had, from
his very boyhood, a singular presentiment that he would
ultimately arrive at great fortune.

At the close of the American Revolution he was still in London,
and scarce on the threshold of active life. An elder brother had
been for some few years resident in the United States, and Mr.
Astor determined to follow him, and to seek his fortunes in the
rising country. Investing a small sum which he had amassed since
leaving his native village, in merchandise suited to the American
market, he embarked, in the month of November, 1783, in a ship
bound to Baltimore, and arrived in Hampton Roads in the month of
January. The winter was extremely severe, and the ship, with many
others, was detained by the ice in and about Chesapeake Bay for
nearly three months.

During this period, the passengers of the various ships used
occasionally to go on shore, and mingle sociably together. In
this way Mr. Astor became acquainted with a countryman of his, a
furrier by trade. Having had a previous impression that this
might be a lucrative trade in the New World, he made many
inquiries of his new acquaintance on the subject, who cheerfully
gave him all the information in his power as to the quality and
value of different furs, and the mode of carrying on the traffic.
He subsequently accompanied him to New York, and, by his advice,
Mr. Astor was induced to invest the proceeds of his merchandise
in furs. With these he sailed from New York to London in 1784,
disposed of them advantageously, made himself further acquainted
with the course of the trade, and returned the same year to New
York, with a view to settle in the United States.

He now devoted himself to the branch of commerce with which he
had thus casually been made acquainted. He began his career, of
course, on the narrowest scale; but he brought to the task a
persevering industry, rigid economy, and strict integrity. To
these were added an aspiring spirit that always looked upwards; a
genius bold, fertile, and expansive; a sagacity quick to grasp
and convert every circumstance to its advantage, and a singular
and never wavering confidence of signal success.

As yet, trade in peltries was not organized in the United States,
and could not be said to form a regular line of business. Furs
and skins were casually collected by the country traders in their
dealings with the Indians or the white hunters, but the main
supply was derived from Canada. As Mr. Astor's means increased,
he made annual visits to Montreal, where he purchased furs from
the houses at that place engaged in the trade. These he shipped
from Canada to London, no direct trade being allowed from that
colony to any but the mother country.

In 1794 or '95, a treaty with Great Britain removed the
restrictions imposed upon the trade with the colonies, and opened
a direct commercial intercourse between Canada and the United
States. Mr. Astor was in London at the time, and immediately made
a contract with the agents of the Northwest Company for furs. He
was now enabled to import them from Montreal into the United
States for the home supply, and to be shipped thence to different
parts of Europe, as well as to China, which has ever been the
best market for the richest and finest kinds of peltry.

The treaty in question provided, likewise, that the military
posts occupied by the British within the territorial limits of
the United States, should be surrendered. Accordingly, Oswego,
Niagara, Detroit, Michilimackinac, and other posts on the
American side of the lakes, were given up. An opening was thus
made for the American merchant to trade on the confines of
Canada, and within the territories of the United States. After an
interval of some years, about 1807, Mr. Astor embarked in this
trade on his own account. His capital and resources had by this
time greatly augmented, and he had risen from small beginnings to
take his place among the first merchants and financiers of the
country. His genius had ever been in advance of his
circumstances, prompting him to new and wide fields of enterprise
beyond the scope of ordinary merchants. With all his enterprise
and resources however, he soon found the power and influence of
the Michilimackinac (or Mackinaw) Company too great for him,
having engrossed most of the trade within the American borders.

A plan had to be devised to enable him to enter into successful
competition. He was aware of the wish of the American government,
already stated, that the fur trade within its boundaries should
be in the hands of American citizens, and of the ineffectual
measures it had taken to accomplish that object. He now offered,
if aided and protected by government, to turn the whole of that
trade into American channels. He was invited to unfold his plans
to government, and they were warmly approved, though the
executive could give no direct aid.

Thus countenanced, however, he obtained, in 1809, a charter from
the legislature of the State of New York, incorporating a company
under the name of "The American Fur Company," with a capital of
one million of dollars, with the privilege of increasing it to
two millions. The capital was furnished by himself   he, in fact,
constituted the company; for, though he had a board of directors,
they were merely nominal; the whole business was conducted on his
plans and with his resources, but he preferred to do so under the
imposing and formidable aspect of a corporation, rather than in
his individual name, and his policy was sagacious and effective.

As the Mackinaw Company still continued its rivalry, and as the
fur trade would not advantageously admit of competition, he made
a new arrangement in 1811, by which, in conjunction with certain
partners of the Northwest Company, and other persons engaged in
the fur trade, he bought out the Mackinaw Company, and merged
that and the American Fur Company into a new association, to be
called the "Southwest Company." This he likewise did with the
privity and approbation of the American government.

By this arrangement Mr. Astor became proprietor of one half of
the Indian establishments and goods which the Mackinaw Company
had within the territory of the Indian country in the United
States, and it was understood that the whole was to be
surrendered into his hands at the expiration of five years, on
condition that the American Company would not trade within the
British dominions.

Unluckily, the war which broke out in 1812 between Great Britain
and the United States suspended the association; and, after the
war, it was entirely dissolved; Congress having passed a law
prohibiting the British fur traders from prosecuting their
enterprises within the territories of the United States.

                          CHAPTER III.
                                
  Fur Trade in the Pacific- American Coasting Voyages- Russian
Enterprises.- Discovery of the Columbia River.- Carver's Project
to Found a Settlement There.-Mackenzie's Expedition.- Lewis and
Clarke's Journey Across the Rocky Mountains- Mr. Astor's Grand
Commercial Scheme.-His Correspondence on the Subject With Mr.
Jefferson.His Negotiations With the Northwest Company.- His Steps
                to Carry His Scheme Into Effect.

WHILE the various companies we have noticed were pushing their
enterprises far and wide in the wilds of Canada, and along the
course of the great western waters, other adventurers, intent on
the same objects, were traversing the watery wastes of the
Pacific and skirting the northwest coast of America. The last
voyage of that renowned but unfortunate discoverer, Captain Cook,
had made known the vast quantities of the sea-otter to be found
along that coast, and the immense prices to be obtained for its
fur in China. It was as if a new gold coast had been discovered.
Individuals from various countries dashed into this lucrative
traffic, so that in the year 1792, there were twenty-one vessels
under different flags, plying along the coast and trading with
the natives. The greater part of them were American, and owned by
Boston merchants. They generally remained on the coast and about
the adjacent seas, for two years, carrying on as wandering and
adventurous a commerce on the water as did the traders and
trappers on land. Their trade extended along the whole coast from
California to the high northern latitudes. They would run in near
shore, anchor, and wait for the natives to come off in their
canoes with peltries. The trade exhausted at one place, they
would up anchor and off to another. In this way they would
consume the summer, and when autumn came on, would run down to
the Sandwich Islands and winter in some friendly and plentiful
harbor. In the following year they would resume their summer
trade, commencing at California and proceeding north: and, having
in the course of the two seasons collected a sufficient cargo of
peltries, would make the best of their way to China. Here they
would sell their furs, take in teas, nankeens, and other
merchandise, and return to Boston, after an absence of two or
three years.

The people, however, who entered most extensively and effectively
in the fur trade of the Pacific, were the Russians. Instead of
making casual voyages, in transient ships, they established
regular trading houses in the high latitudes, along the northwest
coast of America, and upon the chain of the Aleutian Islands
between Kamtschatka and the promontory of Alaska.

To promote and protect these enterprises, a company was
incorporated by the Russian government with exclusive privileges,
and a capital of two hundred and sixty thousand pounds sterling;
and the sovereignty of that part of the American continent, along
the coast of which the posts had been established, was claimed by
the Russian crown, on the plea that the land had been discovered
and occupied by its subjects.

As China was the grand mart for the furs collected in these
quarters, the Russians had the advantage over their competitors
in the trade. The latter had to take their peltries to Canton,
which, however, was a mere receiving mart, from whence they had
to be distributed over the interior of the empire and sent to the
northern parts, where there was the chief consumption. The
Russians, on the contrary, carried their furs, by a shorter
voyage, directly to the northern parts of the Chinese empire;
thus being able to afford them in the market without the
additional cost of internal transportation.

We come now to the immediate field of operation of the great
enterprise we have undertaken to illustrate.

Among the American ships which traded along the northwest coast
in 1792, was the Columbia, Captain Gray, of Boston. In the course
of her voyage she discovered the mouth of a large river in lat.
46 19' north. Entering it with some difficulty, on account of
sand-bars and breakers, she came to anchor in a spacious bay. A
boat was well manned, and sent on shore to a village on the
beach, but all the inhabitants fled excepting the aged and
infirm. The kind manner in which these were treated, and the
presents given them, gradually lured back the others, and a
friendly intercourse took place. They had never seen a ship or a
white man. When they had first descried the Columbia, they had
supposed it a floating island; then some monster of the deep; but
when they saw the boat putting for shore with human beings on
board, they considered them cannibals sent by the Great Spirit to
ravage the country and devour the inhabitants. Captain Gray did
not ascend the river farther than the bay in question, which
continues to bear his name. After putting to sea, he fell in with
the celebrated discoverer, Vancouver, and informed him of his
discovery, furnished him with a chart which he had made of the
river. Vancouver visited the river, and his lieutenant,
Broughton, explored it by the aid of Captain Gray's chart;
ascending it upwards of one hundred miles, until within view of a
snowy mountain, to which he gave the name of Mt. Hood, which it
still retains.

The existence of this river, however, was known long before the
visits of Gray and Vancouver, but the information concerning it
was vague and indefinite, being gathered from the reports of
Indians. It was spoken of by travellers as the Oregon, and as the
Great River of the West. A Spanish ship is said to have been
wrecked at the mouth, several of the crew of which lived for some
time among, the natives. The Columbia, however, is believed to be
the first ship that made a regular discovery and anchored within
its waters, and it has since generally borne the name of that
vessel.
As early as 1763, shortly after the acquisition of the Canadas by
Great Britain, Captain Jonathan Carver, who had been in the
British provincial army, projected a journey across the continent
between the forty-third and forty-sixth degrees of northern
latitude to the shores of -the Pacific Ocean. His objects were to
ascertain the breadth of the continent at its broadest part, and
to determine on some place on the shores of the Pacific, where
government might establish a post to facilitate the discovery of
a northwest passage, or a communication between Hudson's Bay and
the Pacific Ocean. This place he presumed would be somewhere
about the Straits of Annian, at which point he supposed the
Oregon disembogued itself. It was his opinion, also, that a
settlement on this extremity of America would disclose new
sources of trade, promote many useful discoveries, and open a
more direct communication with China and the English settlements
in the East Indies, than that by the Cape of Good Hope or the
Straits of Magellan. * This enterprising and intrepid traveller
was twice baffled in individual efforts to accomplish this great
journey. In 1774, he was joined in the scheme by Richard
Whitworth, a member of Parliament, and a man of wealth. Their
enterprise was projected on a broad and bold plan. They were to
take with them fifty or sixty men, artificers and mariners. With
these they were to make their way up one of the branches of the
Missouri, explore the mountains for the source of the Oregon, or
River of the West, and sail down that river to its supposed exit,
near the Straits of Annian. Here they were to erect a fort, and
build the vessels necessary to carry their discoveries by sea
into effect. Their plan had the sanction of the British
government, and grants and other requisites were nearly
completed, when the breaking out of the American Revolution once
more defeated the undertaking. **

The expedition of Sir Alexander Mackenzie in 1793, across the
continent to the Pacific Ocean, which he reached in lat. 52 20'
48", again suggested the possibility of linking together the
trade of both sides of the continent. In lat. 52 30' he had
descended a river for some distance which flowed towards the
south, and wag called by the natives Tacoutche Tesse, and which
he erroneously supposed to be the Columbia. It was afterwards
ascertained that it emptied itself in lat. 49 degrees, whereas
the mouth of the Columbia is about three degrees further south.

When Mackenzie some years subsequently published an account of
his expeditions, he suggested the policy of opening an
intercourse between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, and forming
regular establishments through the interior and at both extremes,
as well as along the coasts and islands. By this means, he
observed, the entire command of the fur trade of North America
might be obtained from lat. 48 north to the pole, excepting that
portion held by the Russians, for as to the American adventurers
who had hitherto enjoyed the traffic along the northwest coast,
they would instantly disappear, he added, before a well regulated
trade.

A scheme of this kind, however, was too vast and hazardous for
individual enterprise; it could only be undertaken by a company
under the sanction and protection of a government; and as there
might be a clashing of claims between the Hudson's Bay and
Northwest Company, the one holding by right of charter, the other
by right of possession, he proposed that the two comparties
should coalesce in this great undertaking. The long-cherished
jealousies of these two companies, however, were too deep and
strong to allow them to listen to such counsel.

In the meantime the attention of the American government was
attracted to the subject, and the memorable expedition under
Messrs. Lewis and Clarke fitted out. These gentlemen, in 1804,
accomplished the enterprise which had been projected by Carver
and Whitworth in 1774. They ascended the Missouri, passed through
the stupendous gates of the Rocky Mountains, hitherto unknown to
white men; discovered and explored the upper waters of the
Columbia, and followed that river down to its mouth, where their
countryman, Gray, had anchored about twelve years previously.
Here they passed the winter, and returned across the mountains in
the following spring. The reports published by them of their
expedition demonstrated the practicability of establishing a line
of communication across the continent, from the Atlantic to the
Pacific Ocean.

it was then that the idea presented itself to the mind of Mr.
Astor, of grasping with his individual hand this great
enterprise, which for years had been dubiously yet desirously
contemplated by powerful associations and maternal governments.
For some time he revolved the idea in his mind, gradually
extending and maturing his plans as his means of executing them
augmented. The main feature of his scheme was to establish a line
of trading posts along the Missouri and the Columbia, to the
mouth of the latter, where was to be founded the chief trading
house or mart. Inferior posts would be established in the
interior, and on all the tributary streams of the Columbia, to
trade with the Indians; these posts would draw their supplies
from the main establishment, and bring to it the peltries they
collected. Coasting craft would be built and fitted out, also at
the mouth of the Columbia, to trade, at favorable seasons, all
along the northwest coast, and return, with the proceeds of their
voyages, to this place of deposit. Thus all the Indian trade,
both of the interior and the coast, would converge to this point,
and thence derive its sustenance.

A ship was to be sent annually from New York to this main
establishment with reinforcements and supplies, and with
merchandise suited to the trade. It would take on board the furs
collected during the preceding year, carry them to Canton, invest
the proceeds in the rich merchandise of China, and return thus
freighted to New York.
As, in extending the American trade along the coast to the
northward, it might be brought into the vicinity of the Russian
Fur Company, and produce a hostile rivalry, it was part of the
plan of Mr. Astor to conciliate the good-will of that company by
the most amicable and beneficial arrangements. The Russian
establishment was chiefly dependent for its supplies upon
transient trading vessels from the United States. These vessels,
however, were often of more harm than advantage. Being owned by
private adventurers, or casual voyagers, who cared only for
present profit, and had no interest in the permanent prosperity
of the trade, they were reckless in their dealings with the
natives, and made no scruple of supplying them with fire-arms. In
this way several fierce tribes in the vicinity of the Russian
posts, or within the range of their trading excursions, were
furnished with deadly means of warfare, and rendered troublesome
and dangerous neighbors.

The Russian government had made representations to that of the
United States of these malpractices on the part of its citizens,
and urged to have this traffic in arms prohibited; but, as it did
not infringe any municipal law, our government could not
interfere. Yet, still it regarded, with solicitude, a traffic
which, if persisted in, might give offence to Russia, at that
time almost the only friendly power to us. In this dilemma the
government had applied to Mr. Astor, as one conversant in this
branch of trade, for information that might point out a way to
remedy the evil. This circumstance had suggested to him the idea
of supplying the Russian establishment regularly by means of the
annual ship that should visit the settlement at the mouth of the
Columbia (or Oregon) ; by this means the casual trading vessels
would be excluded from those parts of the coast where their
malpractices were so injurious to the Russians.

Such is a brief outline of the enterprise projected by Mr. Astor,
but which continually expanded in his mind. Indeed it is due to
him to say that he was not actuated by mere motives of individual
profit. He was already wealthy beyond the ordinary desires of
man, but he now aspired to that honorable fame which is awarded
to men of similar scope of mind, who by their great commercial
enterprises have enriched nations, peopled wildernesses, and
extended the bounds of empire. He considered his projected
establishment at the mouth of the Columbia as the emporium to an
immense commerce; as a colony that would form the germ of a wide
civilization; that would, in fact, carry the American population
across the Rocky Mountains and spread it along the shores of the
Pacific, as it already animated the shores of the Atlantic.
As Mr. Astor, by the magnitude of his commercial and financial
relations, and the vigor and scope of his self-taught mind, had
elevated himself into the consideration of government and the
communion and correspondence with leading statesmen, he, at an
early period, communicated his schemes to President Jefferson,
soliciting the countenance of government. How highly they were
esteemed by that eminent man, we may judge by the following
passage, written by him some time afterwards.

"I remember well having invited your proposition on this
subject,*** and encouraged it with the assurance of every
facility and  protection which the government could properly
afford. I considered, as a great public acquisition, the
commencement of a settlement on that point of the western coast
of America, and looked forward with gratification to the time
when its descendants should have spread themselves through the
whole length of that coast, covering it with free and independent
Americans, unconnected with us but by the ties of blood and
interest, and enjoying like us the rights of self-government."

The cabinet joined with Mr. Jefferson in warm approbation of the
plan, and held out assurance of every protection that could,
consistently with general policy, be afforded.
Mr. Astor now prepared to carry his scheme into prompt execution.
He had some competition, however, to apprehend and guard against.
The Northwest Company, acting feebly and partially upon the
suggestions of its former agent, Sir Alexander Mackenzie, had
pushed one or two advanced trading posts across the Rocky
Mountains, into a tract of country visited by that enterprising
traveller, and since named New Caledonia. This tract lay about
two degrees north of the Columbia, and intervened between the
territories of the United States and those of Russia. Its length
was about five hundred and fifty miles, and its breadth, from the
mountains to the Pacific, from three hundred to three hundred and
fifty geographic miles.

Should the Northwest Company persist in extending their trade in
that quarter, their competition might be of serious detriment to
the plans of Mr. Astor. It is true they would contend with him to
a vast disadvantage, from the checks and restrictions to which
they were subjected. They were straitened on one side by the
rivalry of the Hudson's Bay Company; then they had no good post
on the Pacific where they could receive supplies by sea for their
establishments beyond the mountains; nor, if they had one, could
they ship their furs thence to China, that great mart for
peltries; the Chinese trade being comprised in the monopoly of
the East India Company. Their posts beyond the mountains had to
be supplied in yearly expeditions, like caravans, from Montreal,
and the furs conveyed back in the same way, by long, precarious,
and expensive routes, across the continent. Mr. Astor, on the
contrary, would be able to supply his proposed establishment at
the mouth of the Columbia by sea, and to ship the furs collected
there directly to China, so as to undersell the Northwest Company
in the great Chinese market.

Still, the competition of two rival companies west of the Rocky
Mountains could not but prove detrimental to both, and fraught
with those evils, both to the trade and to the Indians, that had
attended similar rivalries in the Canadas. To prevent any contest
of the kind, therefore, he made known his plan to the agents of
the Northwest Company, and proposed to interest them, to the
extent of one third, in the trade thus to be opened. Some
correspondence and negotiation ensued. The company were aware of
the advantages which would be possessed by Mr. Astor should he be
able to carry his scheme into effect; but they anticipated a
monopoly of the trade beyond the mountains by their
establishments in New Caledonia, and were loth to share it with
an individual who had already proved a formidable competitor in
the Atlantic trade. They hoped, too, by a timely move, to secure
the mouth of the Columbia before Mr. Astor would be able to put
his plans into operation; and, that key to the internal trade
once in their possession, the whole country would be at their
command. After some negotiation and delay, therefore, they
declined the proposition that had been made to them, but
subsequently despatched a party for the mouth of the Columbia, to
establish a post there before any expedition sent out by Mr.
Astor might arrive.

In the meantime Mr. Astor, finding his overtures rejected,
proceeded fearlessly to execute his enterprise in face of the
whole power of the Northwest Company. His main establishment once
planted at the mouth of the Columbia, he looked with confidence
to ultimate success. Being able to reinforce and supply it amply
by sea, he would push his interior posts in every direction up
the rivers and along the coast; supplying the natives at a lower
rate, and thus gradually obliging the Northwest Company to give
up the competition, relinquish New Caledonia, and retire to the
other side of the mountains. He would then have possession of the
trade, not merely of the Columbia and its tributaries, but of the
regions farther north, quite to the Russian possessions. Such was
a part of his brilliant and comprehensive plan.

He now proceeded, with all diligence, to procure proper agents
and coadjutors, habituated to the Indian trade and to the life of
the wilderness. Among the clerks of the Northwest Company were
several of great capacity and experience, who had served out
their probationary terms, but who, either through lack of
interest and influence, or a want of vacancies, had not been
promoted. They were consequently much dissatisfied, and ready for
any employment in which their talents and acquirements might be
turned to better account.

Mr. Astor made his overtures to several of these persons, and
three of them entered into his views. One of these, Mr. Alexander
M'Kay, had accompanied Sir Alexander Mackenzie in both of his
expeditions to the northwest coast of America in 1789 and 1793.
The other two were Duncan M'Dougal and Donald M'Kenzie. To these
were subsequently added Mr. Wilson Price Hunt, of New Jersey. As
this gentleman was a native born citizen of the United States, a
person of great probity and worth, he was selected by Mr. Astor
to be his chief agent, and to represent him in the contemplated
establishment.

On the 23d of June, 1810, articles of agreement were entered into
between Mr. Astor and those four gentlemen, acting for themselves
and for the several persons who had already agreed to become, or
should thereafter become, associated under the firm of "The
Pacific Fur Company."

According to these articles, Mr. Astor was to be at the head of
the company, and to manage its affairs in New York. He was to
furnish vessels, goods, provisions, arms, ammunition, and all
other requisites for the enterprise at first cost and charges,
provided that they did not, at any time, involve an advance of
more than four hundred thousand dollars.

The stock of the company was to be divided into a hundred equal
shares, with the profits accruing thereon. Fifty shares were to
be at the disposition of Mr. Astor, and the other fifty to be
divided among the partners and their associates.

Mr. Astor was to have the privilege of introducing other persons
into the connection as partners, two of whom, at least, should be
conversant with the Indian trade, and none of them entitled to
more than three shares.

A general meeting of the company was to be held annually at
Columbia River, for the investigation and regulation of its
affairs; at which absent members might be represented, and might
vote by proxy under certain specified conditions.

The association, if successful, was to continue for twenty years;
but the parties had full power to abandon and dissolve it within
the first five years, should it be found unprofitable. For this
term Mr. Astor covenanted to bear all the loss that might be
incurred; after which it was to be borne by all the partners, in
proportion to their respective shares.

The parties of the second part were to execute faithfully such
duties as might be assigned to them by a majority of the company
on the northwest coast, and to repair to such place or places as
the majority might direct.

An agent, appointed for the term of five years, was to reside at
the principal establishment on the northwest coast, and Wilson
Price Hunt was the one chosen for the first term. Should the
interests of the concern at any time require his absence, a
person was to be appointed, in general meeting, to take his
place.

Such were the leading conditions of this ascociation; we shall
now proceed to relate the various hardy and eventful expeditions,
by sea and land, to which it gave rise.

* Carver's Travels, Introd. b. iii. Philad. 1796.
** Carver's Travels, p. 360.
*** On this point Mr. Jefferson's memory was in error. The
proposition alluded to was the one, already mentioned, for the
establishment of an American Fur Company in the Atlantic States.
The great enterprise beyond the mountains, that was to sweep the
shores of the Pacific, originated in the mind of Mr. Astor, and
was proposed by him to the government.

                          CHAPTER IV.
Two Expeditions Set on Foot.- The Tonquin and Her Crew.- Captain
   Thorn, His Character.- The Partners and Clerks - Canadian
Voyageurs, Their Habits, Employments, Dress, Character, Songs-
Expedition of a Canadian Boat and Its Crew by Land and Water.-
Arrival at New York.- Preparations for a Sea Voyage.- Northwest
   Braggarts. -Underhand Precautions- Letter of Instructions.

IN prosecuting his great scheme of commerce and colonization, two
expeditions were devised by Mr. Astor, one by sea, the other by
land. The former was to carry out the people, stores, ammunition,
and merchandise, requisite for establishing a fortified trading
post at the mouth of Columbia River. The latter, conducted by Mr.
Hunt, was to proceed up the Missouri, and across the Rocky
Mountains, to the same point; exploring a line of communication
across the continent and noting the places where interior trading
posts might be established. The expedition by sea is the one
which comes first under consideration.

A fine ship was provided called the Tonquin, of two hundred and
ninety tons burden, mounting ten guns, with a crew of twenty men.
She carried an assortment of merchandise for trading with the
natives of the seaboard and of the interior, together with the
frame of a schooner, to be employed in the coasting trade. Seeds
also were provided for the cultivation of the soil, and nothing
was neglected for the necessary supply of the establishment. The
command of the ship was intrusted to Jonathan Thorn, of New York,
a lieutenant in the United States navy, on leave of absence. He
was a man of courage and firmness, who had distinguished himself
in our Tripolitan war, and, from being accustomed to naval
discipline, was considered by Mr. Astor as well fitted to take
charge of an expedition of the kind. Four of the partners were to
embark in the ship, namely, Messrs. M'Kay, M'Dougal, David
Stuart, and his nephew, Robert Stuart. Mr. M'Dougal was empowered
by Mr. Astor to act as his proxy in the absence of Mr. Hunt, to
vote for him and in his name, on any question that might come
before any meeting of the persons interested in the voyage.

Besides the partners, there were twelve clerks to go out in the
ship, several of them natives of Canada, who had some experience
in the Indian trade. They were bound to the service of the
company for five years, at the rate of one hundred dollars a
year, payable at the expiration of the term, and an annual
equipment of clothing to the amount of forty dollars. In case of
ill conduct they were liable to forfeit their wages and be
dismissed; but, should they acquit themselves well, the confident
expectation was held out to them of promotion, and partnership.
Their interests were thus, to some extent, identified with those
of the company.

Several artisans were likewise to sail in the ship, for the
supply of the colony; but the most peculiar and characteristic
part of this motley embarkation consisted of thirteen Canadian
"voyageurs,"who had enlisted for five years. As this class of
functionaries will continually recur in the course of the
following narrations, and as they form one of those distinct and
strongly marked castes or orders of people, springing up in this
vast continent out of geographical circumstances, or the varied
pursuits, habitudes, and origins of its population, we shall
sketch a few of their characteristics for the information of the
reader.

The "voyageurs" form a kind of confraternity in the Canadas, like
the arrieros, or carriers of Spain, and, like them, are employed
in long internal expeditions of travel and traffic: with this
difference, that the arrieros travel by land, the voyageurs by
water; the former with mules and horses, the latter with batteaux
and canoes. The voyageurs may be said to have sprung up out of
the fur trade, having originally been employed by the early
French merchants in their trading expeditions through the
labyrinth of rivers and lakes of the boundless interior. They
were coeval with the coureurs des bois, or rangers of the woods,
already noticed, and, like them, in the intervals of their long,
arduous, and laborious expeditions, were prone to pass their time
in idleness and revelry about the trading posts or settlements;
squandering their hard earnings in heedless conviviality, and
rivaling their neighbors, the Indians, in indolent indulgence and
an imprudent disregard of the morrow.

When Canada passed under British domination, and the old French
trading houses were broken up, the voyageurs, like the coureurs
des bois, were for a time disheartened and disconsolate, and with
difficulty could reconcile themselves to the service of the new-
comers, so different in habits, manners, and language from their
former employers. By degrees, however, they became accustomed to
the change, and at length came to consider the British fur
traders, and especially the members of the Northwest Company, as
the legitimate lords of creation.

The dress of these people is generally half civilized, half
savage. They wear a capot or surcoat, made of a blanket, a
striped cotton shirt, cloth trousers, or leathern leggins,
moccasins of deer-skin, and a belt of variegated worsted, from
which are suspended the knife, tobacco-pouch, and other
implements. Their language is of the same piebald character,
being a French patois, embroidered with Indian and English words
and phrases.

The lives of the voyageurs are passed in wild and extensive
rovings, in the service of individuals, but more especially of
the fur traders. They are generally of French descent, and
inherit much of the gayety and lightness of heart of their
ancestors, being full of anecdote and song, and ever ready for
the dance. They inherit, too, a fund of civility and
complaisance; and, instead of that hardness and grossness which
men in laborious life are apt to indulge towards each other, they
are mutually obliging and accommodating; interchanging kind
offices, yielding each other assistance and comfort in every
emergency, and using the familiar appellations of "cousin" and
"brother" when there is in fact no relationship. Their natural
good-will is probably heightened by a community of adventure and
hardship in their precarious and wandering life.

No men are more submissive to their leaders and employers, more
capable of enduring hardship, or more good-humored under
privations. Never are they so happy as when on long and rough
expeditions, toiling up rivers or coasting lakes; encamping at
night on the borders, gossiping round their fires, and
bivouacking in the open air. They are dextrous boatmen, vigorous
and adroit with the oar and paddle, and will row from morning
until night without a murmur. The steersman often sings an old
traditionary French song, with some regular burden in which they
all join, keeping time with their oars; if at any time they flag
in spirits or relax in exertion, it is but necessary to strike up
a song of the kind to put them all in fresh spirits and activity.
The Canadian waters are vocal with these little French chansons,
that have been echoed from mouth to mouth and transmitted from
father to son, from the earliest days of the colony; and it has a
pleasing effect, in a still golden summer evening, to see a
batteau gliding across the bosom of a lake and dipping its oars
to the cadence of these quaint old ditties, or sweeping along in
full chorus on a bright sunny morning, down the transparent
current of one of the Canada rivers.

But we are talking of things that are fast fading away! The march
of mechanical invention is driving everything poetical before it.
The steamboats, which are fast dispelling the wildness and
romance of our lakes and rivers, and aiding to subdue the world
into commonplace, are proving as fatal to the race of the
Canadian voyageurs as they have been to that of the boatmen of
the Mississippi. Their glory is departed. They are no longer the
lords of our internal seas, and the great navigators of the
wilderness. Some of them may still occasionally be seen coasting
the lower lakes with their frail barks, and pitching their camps
and lighting their fires upon the shores; but their range is fast
contracting to those remote waters and shallow and obstructed
rivers unvisited by the steamboat. In the course of years they
will gradually disappear; their songs will die away like the
echoes they once awakened, and the Canadian voyageurs will become
a forgotten race, or remembered, like their associates, the
Indians, among the poetical images of past times, and as themes
for local and romantic associations.

An instance of the buoyant temperament and the professional pride
of these people was furnished in the gay and braggart style in
which they arrived at New York to join the enterprise. They were
determined to regale and astonish the people of the "States" with
the sight of a Canadian boat and a Canadian crew. They
accordingly fitted up a large but light bark canoe, such as is
used in the fur trade; transported it in a wagon from the banks
of the St. Lawrence to the shores of Lake Champlain; traversed
the lake in it, from end to end; hoisted it again in a wagon and
wheeled it off to Lansingburgh, and there launched it upon the
waters of the Hudson. Down this river they plied their course
merrily on a fine summer's day, making its banks resound for the
first time with their old French boat songs; passing by the
villages with whoop and halloo, so as to make the honest Dutch
farmers mistake them for a crew of savages. In this way they
swept, in full song and with regular flourish of the paddle,
round New York, in a still summer evening, to the wonder and
admiration of its inhabitants, who had never before witnessed on
their waters, a nautical apparition of the kind.

Such was the variegated band of adventurers about to embark in
the Tonquin on this ardous and doubtful enterprise. While yet in
port and on dry land, in the bustle of preparation and the
excitement of novelty, all was sunshine and promise. The
Canadians, especially, who, with their constitutional vivacity,
have a considerable dash of the gascon, were buoyant and
boastful, and great brag arts as to the future; while all those
who had been in the service of the Northwest Company, and engaged
in the Indian trade, plumed themselves upon their hardihood and
their capacity to endure privations. If Mr. Astor ventured to
hint at the difficulties they might have to encounter, they
treated them with scorn. They were "northwesters;" men seasoned
to hardships, who cared for neither wind nor weather. They could
live hard, lie hard, sleep hard, eat dogs! - in a word they were
ready to do and suffer anything for the good of the enterprise.
With all this profession of zeal and devotion, Mr. Astor was not
overconfident of the stability and firm faith of these mercurial
beings. He had received information, also, that an armed brig
from Halifax, probably at the instigation of the Northwest
Company, was hovering on the coast, watching for the Tonquin,
with the purpose of impressing the Canadians on board of her, as
British subjects, and thus interrupting the voyage. It was a time
of doubt and anxiety, when the relations between the United
States and Great Britain were daily assuming a more precarious
aspect and verging towards that war which shortly ensued. As a
precautionary measure, therefore, he required that the voyageurs,
as they were about to enter into the service of an American
association, and to reside within the limits of the United
States, should take the oaths of naturalization as American
citizens. To this they readily agreed, and shortly afterward
assured him that they had actually done so. It was not until
after they had sailed that he discovered that they had entirely
deceived him in the matter.

The confidence of Mr. Astor was abused in another quarter. Two of
the partners, both of them Scotchmen, and recently in the service
of the Northwest Company, had misgivings as to an enterprise
which might clash with the interests and establishments protected
by the British flag. They privately waited upon the British
minister, Mr. Jackson, then in New York, laid open to him the
whole scheme of Mr. Astor, though intrusted to them in
confidence, and dependent, in a great measure, upon secrecy at
the outset for its success, and inquired whether they, as British
subjects, could lawfully engage in it. The reply satisfied their
scruples, while the information they imparted excited the
surprise and admiration of Mr. Jackson, that a private individual
should have conceived and set on foot at his own risk and expense
so great an enterprise.

This step on the part of those gentlemen was not known to Mr.
Astor until some time afterwards, or it might have modified the
trust and confidence reposed in them.

To guard against any interruption to the voyage by the armed
brig, said to be off the harbor, Mr. Astor applied to Commodore
Rodgers, at that time commanding at New York, to give the Tonquin
safe convoy off the coast. The commodore having received from a
high official source assurance of the deep interest which the
government took in the enterprise, sent directions to Captain
Hull, at that time cruising off the harbor, in the frigate
Constitution, to afford the Tonquin the required protection when
she should put to sea.

Before the day of embarkation, Mr. Astor addressed a letter of
instruction to the four partners who were to sail in the ship. In
this he enjoined them, in the most earnest manner, to cultivate
harmony and unanimity, and recommended that all differences of
opinions on points connected with the objects and interests of
the voyage should be discussed by the whole, and decided by a
majority of votes. He, moreover, gave them especial caution as to
their conduct on arriving at their destined port; exhorting them
to be careful to make a favorable impression upon the wild people
among whom their lot and the fortunes of the enterprise would be
cast. "If you find them kind," said he, "as I hope you will, be
so to them. If otherwise, act with caution and forebearance, and
convince them that you come as friends."

With the same anxious forethought he wrote a letter of
instructions to Captain Thorn, in which he urged the strictest
attention to the health of himself and his crew, and to the
promotion of good-humor and harmony on board his ship. "To
prevent any misunderstanding," added he, "will require your
particular good management." His letter closed with an injunction
of wariness in his intercourse with the natives, a subject on
which Mr. Astor was justly sensible he could not be too earnest.
"I must recommend you," said he, "to be particularly careful on
the coast, and not to rely too much on the friendly disposition
of the natives. All accidents which have as yet happened there
arose from too much confidence in the Indians."

The reader will bear these instructions in mind, as events will
prove their wisdom and importance, and the disasters which ensued
in consequence of the neglect of them.

                           CHAPTER V.
                                
Sailing of the Tonquin. - A Rigid Commander and a Reckless Crew.
- Landsmen on Shipboard.- Fresh-Water Sailors at Sea.- Lubber
   Nests. - Ship Fare.- A Labrador Veteran- Literary Clerks.-
  Curious Travellers.- Robinson Crusoe's Island.- Quarter-Deck
Quarrels.- Falkland Islands.- A Wild-Goose Chase.- Port Egmont.-
Epitaph Hunting.- Old Mortality- Penguin Shooting.- Sportsmen
Left in the Lurch.-A Hard Pull.- Further Altercations.- Arrival
                           at Owyhee.

ON the eighth of September, 1810, the Tonquin put to sea, where
she was soon joined by the frigate Constitution. The wind was
fresh and fair from the southwest, and the ship was soon out of
sight of land and free from the apprehended danger of
interruption. The frigate, therefore, gave her "God speed," and
left her to her course.

The harmony so earnestly enjoined by Mr. Astor on this
heterogeneous crew, and which had been so confidently promised in
the buoyant moments of preparation, was doomed to meet with a
check at the very outset.

Captain Thorn was an honest, straighforward, but somewhat dry and
dictatorial commander, who, having been nurtured in the system
and discipline of a ship of war, and in a sacred opinion of the
supremacy of the quarter-deck, was disposed to be absolute lord
and master on board of his ship. He appears, moreover, to have
had no great opinion, from the first, of the persons embarked
with him - He had stood by with surly contempt while they vaunted
so bravely to Mr. Astor of all they could do and all they could
undergo; how they could face all weathers, put up with all kinds
of fare, and even eat dogs with a relish, when no better food was
to be had. He had set them down as a set of landlubbers and
braggadocios, and was disposed to treat them accordingly. Mr.
Astor was, in his eyes, his only real employer, being the father
of the enterprise, who furnished all funds and bore all losses.
The others were mere agents and subordinates, who lived at his
expense. He evidently had but a narrow idea of the scope and
nature of the enterprise, limiting his views merely to his part
of it; everything beyond the concerns of his ship was out of his
sphere; and anything that interfered with the routine of his
nautical duties put him in a passion.

The partners, on the other hand, had been brought up in the
service of the Northwest Company, and in a profound idea of the
importance, dignity, and authority of a partner. They already
began to consider themselves on a par with the M'Tavishes, the
M'Gillivrays, the Frobishers, and the other magnates of the
Northwest, whom they had been accustomed to look up to as the
great ones of the earth; and they were a little disposed,
perhaps, to wear their suddenly-acquired honors with some air of
pretension. Mr. Astor, too, had put them on their mettle with
respect to the captain, describing him as a gunpowder fellow who
would command his ship in fine style, and, if there was any
fighting to do, would "blow all out of the water."

Thus prepared to regard each other with no very cordial eye, it
is not to be wondered at that the parties soon came into
collision. On the very first night Captain Thorn began his man-
of-war discipline by ordering the lights in the cabin to be
extinguished at eight o'clock.

The pride of the partners was immediately in arms. This was an
invasion of their rights and dignities not to be borne. They were
on board of their own ship, and entitled to consult their ease
and enjoyment. M'Dougal was the champion of their cause. He was
an active, irritable, fuming, vainglorious little man, and
elevated in his own opinion, by being the proxy of Mr. Astor. A
violent altercation ensued, in the course of which Thorn
threatened to put the partners in irons should they prove
refractory; upon which M'Dougal seized a pistol and swore to be
the death of the captain should he ever offer such an indignity.
It was some time before the irritated parties could be pacified
by the more temperate bystanders.

Such was the captain's outset with the partners. Nor did the
clerks stand much higher in his good graces; indeed, he seems to
have regarded all the landsmen on board his ship as a kind of
Iive lumber, continually in the way. The poor voyageurs, too,
continually irritated his spleen by their "lubberly" and unseemly
habits, so abhorrent to one accustomed to the cleanliness of a
man-of-war. These poor fresh-water sailors, so vainglorious on
shore, and almost amphibious when on lakes and rivers, lost all
heart and stomach the moment they were at sea. For days they
suffered the doleful rigors and retchings of sea-sickness,
lurking below in their berths in squalid state, or emerging now
and then like spectres from the hatchways, in capotes and
blankets, with dirty nightcaps, grizzly beard, lantern visage and
unhappy eye, shivering about the deck, and ever and anon crawling
to the sides of the vessel, and offering up their tributes to the
windward, to infinite annoyance of the captain.

His letters to Mr. Astor, wherein he pours forth the bitterness
of his soul, and his seamanlike impatience of what he considers
the "lubberly" character and conduct of those around him, are
before us, and are amusingly characteristic. The honest captain
is full of vexation on his own account, and solicitude on account
of Mr. Astor, whose property he considers at the mercy of a most
heterogeneous and wasteful crew.

As to the clerks, he pronounced them mere pretenders, not one of
whom had ever been among the Indians, nor farther to the
northwest than Montreal, nor of higher rank than barkeeper of a
tavern or marker of a billiard-table, excepting one, who had been
a school-master, and whom he emphatically sets down for "as
foolish a pedant as ever lived."

Then as to the artisans and laborers who had been brought from
Canada and shipped at such expense, the three most respectable,
according to the captain's account, were culprits, who had fled
from Canada on account of their misdeeds; the rest had figured in
Montreal as draymen, barbers, waiters, and carriole drivers, and
were the most helpless, worthless beings "that ever broke sea-
biscuit."

It may easily be imagined what a series of misunderstandings and
cross-purposes would be likely to take place between such a crew
and such a commander. The captain, in his zeal for the health and
cleanliness of his ship, would make sweeping visitations to the
"lubber nests" of the unlucky "voyageurs" and their companions in
misery, ferret them out of their berths, make them air and wash
themselves and their accoutrements, and oblige them to stir about
briskly and take exercise.

Nor did his disgust and vexation cease when all hands had
recovered from sea-sickness, and become accustomed to the ship,
for now broke out an alarming keenness of appetite that
threatened havoc to the provisions. What especially irritated the
captain was the daintiness of some of his cabin passengers. They
were loud in their complaints of the ship's fare, though their
table was served with fresh pork, hams, tongues, smoked beef, and
puddings. "When thwarted in their cravings for delicacies," Said
he, "they would exclaim it was d-d hard they could not live as
they pleased upon their own property, being on board of their own
ship, freighted with their own merchandise. And these," added he,
"are the fine fellows who made such boast that they could 'eat
dogs.' "

In his indignation at what he termed their effeminacy, he would
swear that he would never take them to sea again "without having
Fly-market on the forecastle, Covent-garden on the poop, and a
cool spring from Canada in the maintop. "

As they proceeded on their voyage and got into the smooth seas
and pleasant weather of the tropics, other annoyances occurred to
vex the spirit of the captain. He had been crossed by the
irritable mood of one of the partners; he was now excessively
annoyed by the good-humor of another. This was the elder Stuart,
who was an easy soul, and of a social disposition. He had seen
life in Canada, and on the coast of Labrador; had been a fur
trader in the former, and a fisherman on the latter; and, in the
course of his experience, had made various expeditions with
voyageurs. He was accustomed, therefore, to the familiarity which
prevails between that class and their superiors, and the
gossipings which take place among them when seated round a fire
at their encampments. Stuart was never so happy as when he could
seat himself on the deck with a number of these men round him, in
camping style, smoke together, passing the pipe from mouth to
mouth, after the manner of the Indians, sing old Canadian boat-
songs, and tell stories about their hardships and adventures, in
the course of which he rivaled Sinbad in his long tales of the
sea, about his fishing exploits on the coast of Labrador.

This gossiping familiarity shocked the captain's notions of rank
and subordination, and nothing was so abhorrent to him as the
community of pipe between master and man, and their mingling in
chorus in the outlandish boat-songs.

Then there was another whimsical source of annoyance to him. Some
of the young clerks, who were making their first voyage, and to
whom everything was new and strange, were, very rationally, in
the habit of taking notes and keeping journals. This was a sore
abomination to the honest captain, who held their literary
pretensions in great contempt. "The collecting of materials for
long histories of their voyages and travels," said he, in his
letter to Mr. Astor, "appears to engross most of their
attention." We can conceive what must have been the crusty
impatience of the worthy navigator, when, on any trifling
occurrence in the course of the voyage, quite commonplace in his
eyes, he saw these young landsmen running to record it in their
journals; and what indignant glances he must have cast to right
and left, as he worried about the deck, giving out his orders for
the management of the ship, surrounded by singing, smoking,
gossiping, scribbling groups, all, as he thought, intent upon the
amusement of the passing hour, instead of the great purposes and
interests of the voyage.

It is possible the captain was in some degree right in his
notions. Though some of the passengers had much to gain by the
voyage, none of them had anything positively to lose. They were
mostly young men, in the heyday of life; and having got into fine
latitudes, upon smooth seas, with a well-stored ship under them,
and a fair wind in the shoulder of the sail, they seemed to have
got into a holiday world, and were disposed to enjoy it. That
craving desire, natural to untravelled men of fresh and lively
minds, to see strange lands, and to visit scenes famous in
history or fable, was expressed by some of the partners and
clerks, with respect to some of the storied coasts and islands
that lay within their route. The captain, however, who regarded
every coast and island with a matter-of-fact eye, and had no more
associations connected with them than those laid down in his sea-
chart, considered all this curiosity as exceedingly idle and
childish. "In the first part of the voyage," says he in his
letter, "they were determined to have it said they had been in
Africa, and therefore insisted on stopping at the Cape de Verdes.
Next they said the ship should stop on the coast of Patagonia,
for they must see the large and uncommon inhabitants of that
place. Then they must go to the island where Robinson Crusoe had
so long lived. And lastly, they were determined to see the
handsome inhabitants of Easter Island."

To all these resolves, the captain opposed his peremptory veto,
as "contrary to instructions." Then would break forth an
unavailing explosion of wrath on the part of certain of the
partners, in the course of which they did not even spare Mr.
Astor for his act of supererogation in furnishing orders for the
control of the ship while they were on board, instead of leaving
them to be the judges where it would be best for her to touch,
and how long to remain. The choleric M'Dougal took the lead in
these railings, being, as has been observed, a little puffed up
with the idea of being Mr. Astor's proxy.

The captain, however, became only so much the more crusty and
dogged in his adherence to his orders, and touchy and harsh in
his dealings with the passengers, and frequent altercations
ensued. He may in some measure have been influenced by his
seamanlike impatience of the interference of landsmen, and his
high notions of naval etiquette and quarter-deck authority; but
he evidently had an honest, trusty concern for the interests of
his employer. He pictured to himself the anxious projector of the
enterprise, who had disbursed so munificently in its outfit,
calculating on the zeal, fidelity, and singleness of purpose of
his associates and agents; while they, on the other hand, having
a good ship at their disposal and a deep pocket at home to bear
them out, seemed ready to loiter on every coast, and amuse
themselves in every port.

On the fourth of December they came in sight of the Falkland
Islands. Having been for some time on an allowance of water, it
was resolved to anchor here and obtain a supply. A boat was sent
into a small bay to take soundings. Mr. M'Dougal and Mr. M'Kay
took this occasion to go on shore, but with a request from the
captain that they would not detain the ship. Once on shore,
however, they were in no haste to obey his orders, but rambled
about in search of curiosities. The anchorage proving unsafe, and
water difficult to be procured, the captain stood out to sea, and
made repeated signals for those on shore to rejoin the ship, but
it was not until nine at night that they came on board.

The wind being adverse, the boat was again sent on shore on the
following morning, and the same gentlemen again landed, but
promised to come off at a moment's warning; they again forgot
their promise in their eager pursuit of wild geese and seawolves.
After a time the wind hauled fair, and signals were made for the
boat. Half an hour elapsed but no boat put off. The captain
reconnoitered the shore with his glass, and, to his infinite
vexation, saw the loiterers in the full enjoyment of their
"wildgoose-chase." Nettled to the quick, he immediately made
sail. When those on shore saw the ship actually under way, they
embarked with all speed, but had a hard pull of eight miles
before they got on board, and then experienced but a grim
reception, notwithstanding that they came well laden with the
spoils of the chase.

Two days afterwards, on the seventh of December, they anchored at
Fort Egmont, in the same island, where they remained four days
taking in water and making repairs. This was a joyous time for
the landsmen. They pitched a tent on shore, had a boat at their
command, and passed their time merrily in rambling about the
island, and coasting along the shores, shooting sealions, seals,
foxes, geese, ducks, and penguins. None were keener in pursuit of
this kind of game than M'Dougal and David Stuart; the latter was
reminded of aquatic sports on the coast of Labrador, and his
hunting exploits in the Northwest.

In the meantime the captain addressed himself steadily to the
business of his ship, scorning the holiday spirit and useless
pursuits of his emancipated messmates, and warning them, from
time to time, not to wander away nor be out of hail. They
promised, as usual, that the ship should never experience a
moment's detention on their account, but, as usual, forgot their
promise.

On the morning of the 11th, the repairs being all finished, and
the water casks replenished, the signal was given to embark, and
the ship began to weigh anchor. At this time several of the
passengers were dispersed about the island, amusing themselves in
various ways. Some of the young men had found two inscriptions,
in English, over a place where two unfortunate mariners had been
buried in this desert island. As the inscriptions were worn out
by the time and weather, they were playing the part of "Old
Mortality," and piously renewing them. The signal from the ship
summoned them from their labors; they saw the sails unfurled, and
that she was getting under way. The two sporting partners,
however, Mr. M'Dougal and David Stuart, had strolled away to the
south of the island in pursuit of penguins. It would never do to
put off without them, as there was but one boat to convey the
whole.

While this delay took place on shore, the captain was storming on
board. This was the third time his orders had been treated with
contempt, and the ship wantonly detained, and it should be the
last; so he spread all sail and put to sea, swearing he would
leave the laggards to shift for themselves. It was in vain that
those on board made remonstrances and entreaties, and represented
the horrors of abandoning men upon a sterile and uninhabited
island; the sturdy captain was inflexible.

In the meantime the penguin hunters had joined the engravers of
tombstones, but not before the ship was already out at sea. They
all, to the number of eight, threw themselves into their boat,
which was about twenty feet in length, and rowed with might and
main. For three hours and a half did they tug anxiously and
severely at the oar, swashed occasionally by the surging waves of
the open sea, while the ship inexorably kept on her course, and
seemed determined to leave them behind.

On board the ship was the nephew of David Stuart, a young man of
spirit and resolution. Seeing, as he thought, the captain
obstinately bent upon abandoning his uncle and the others, he
seized a pistol, and in a paroxysm of wrath swore he would blow
out the captain's brains, unless he put about or shortened sail.

Fortunately for all parties, the wind just then came ahead, and
the boat was enabled to reach the ship; otherwise, disastrous
circumstances might have ensued. We can hardly believe that the
captain really intended to carry his threat into full effect, and
rather think he meant to let the laggards off for a long pull and
a hearty fright. He declared, however, in his letter to Mr.
Astor, that he was serious in his threats, and there is no
knowing how far such an iron man may push his notions of
authority.

"Had the wind," writes he, "(unfortunately) not hauled ahead soon
after leaving the harbor's mouth, I should positively have left
them; and, indeed, I cannot but think it an unfortunate
circumstance for you that it so happened, for the first loss in
this instance would, in my opinion, have proved the best, as they
seem to have no idea of the value of property, nor any apparent
regard for your interest, although interwoven with their own."

This, it must be confessed, was acting with a high hand, and
carrying a regard to the owner's property to a dangerous length.
Various petty feuds occurred also between him and the partners in
respect to the goods on board ship, some articles of which they
wished to distribute for clothing among the men, or for other
purposes which they deemed essential. The captain, however, kept
a mastiff watch upon the cargo, and growled and snapped if they
but offered to touch box or bale. "It was contrary to orders; it
would forfeit his insurance; it was out of all rule." It was in
vain they insisted upon their right to do so, as part owners, and
as acting for the good of the enterprise; the captain only stuck
to his point the more stanchly. They consoled themselves,
therefore, by declaring, that as soon as they made land, they
would assert their rights, and do with ship and cargo as they
pleased.

Beside these feuds between the captain and the partners, there
were feuds between the partners themselves, occasioned, in some
measure, by jealousy of rank. M'Dougal and M'Kay began to draw
plans for the fort, and other buildings of the intended
establishment. They agreed very well as to the outline and
dimensions, which were on a sufficiently grand scale; but when
they came to arrange the details, fierce disputes arose, and they
would quarrel by the hour about the distribution of the doors and
windows. Many were the hard words and hard names bandied between
them on these occasions, according to the captain's account. Each
accused the other of endeavoring to assume unwarrantable power,
and take the lead; upon which Mr. M'Dougal would vauntingly lay
down Mr. Astor's letter, constituting him his representative and
proxy, a document not to be disputed.

These wordy contests, though violent, were brief; "and within
fifteen minutes," says the captain, "they would be caressing each
other like children."

While all this petty anarchy was agitating the little world
within the Tonquin, the good ship prosperously pursued her
course, doubled Cape Horn on the 25th of December, careered
across the bosom of the Pacific, until, on the 11th of February,
the snowy peaks of Owyhee were seen brightening above the
horizon.

                          CHAPTER VI.
                                
Owyhee.- Sandwich Islanders- Their Nautical Talents.- Tamaahmaah.
-His Navy.- His Negotiations.- Views of Mr. Astor With Respect to
  the Sandwich Islands- Karakakooa.- Royal Monopoly of Pork.-
Description of the Islanders-Gayeties on Shore.- Chronicler of
the Island. -Place Where Captain Cook was Killed.- John Young, a
Nautical Governor.- His Story.- Waititi - A Royal Residence.- A
Royal Visit - Grand Ceremonials.- Close Dealing- A Royal Pork
         Merchant- Grievances of a Matter-of-Fact Man.

OWYHEE, or Hawaii, as it is written by more exact orthographers,
is the largest of the cluster, ten in number, of the Sandwich
Islands. It is about ninety-seven miles in length, and seventy-
eight in breadth, rising gradually into three pyramidal summits
or cones; the highest, Mouna Roa, being eighteen thousand feet
above the level of the sea, so as to domineer over the whole
archipelago, and to be a landmark over a wide extent of ocean. It
remains a lasting monument of the enterprising and unfortunate
Captain Cook, who was murdered by the natives of this island.

The Sandwich Islanders, when first discovered, evinced a
character superior to most of the savages of the Pacific isles.
They were frank and open in their deportment, friendly and
liberal in their dealings, with an apt ingenuity apparent in all
their rude inventions.

The tragical fate of the discoverer, which, for a time, brought
them under the charge of ferocity, was, in fact, the result of
sudden exasperation, caused by the seizure of their chief.

At the time of the visit of the Tonquin, the islanders had
profited, in many respects, by occasional intercourse with white
men; and had shown a quickness to observe and cultivate those
arts important to their mode of living. Originally they had no
means of navigating the seas by which they were surrounded,
superior to light pirogues, which were little competent to
contend with the storms of the broad ocean. As the islanders are
not in sight of each other, there could, therefore, be but casual
intercourse between them. The traffic with white men had put them
in possession of vessels of superior description; they had made
themselves acquainted with their management, and had even made
rude advances in the art of ship-building.

These improvements had been promoted, in a great measure, by the
energy and sagacity of one man, the famous Tamaahmaah. He had
originally been a petty eri, or chief; but, being of an intrepid
and aspiring nature, he had risen in rank, and, availing himself
of the superior advantages now afforded in navigation, had
brought the whole archipelago in subjection to his arms. At the
time of the arrival of the Tonquin he had about forty schooners,
of from twenty to thirty tons burden, and one old American ship.
With these he held undisputed sway over his insular domains, and
carried on intercourse with the chiefs or governors whom he had
placed in command of the several islands.

The situation of this group of islands, far in the bosom of the
vast Pacific, and their abundant fertility, render them important
stopping-places on the highway to China, or to the northwest
coast of America. Here the vessels engaged in the fur trade
touched to make repairs and procure provisions; and here they
often sheltered themselves during the winters that occurred in
their long coasting expeditions.

The British navigators were, from the first, aware of the value
of these islands to the purposes of commerce; and Tamaahmaah, not
long after he had attained the sovereign sway, was persuaded by
Vancouver, the celebrated discoverer, to acknowledge, on behalf
of himself, and subjects, allegiance to the king of Great
Britain. The reader cannot but call to mind the visit which the
royal family and court of the Sandwich Islands was, in late
years, induced to make to the court of St. James; and the serio-
comic ceremonials and mock parade which attended that singular
travesty of monarchal style.

It was a part of the wide and comprehensive plan of Mr. Astor to
establish a friendly intercourse between these islands and his
intended colony, which might, for a time, have occasion to draw
supplies thence; and he even had a vague idea of, some time or
other, getting possession of one of their islands as a rendezvous
for his ships, and a link in the chain of his commercial
establishments.

On the evening of the 12th of February, the Tonquin anchored in
the bay of Karakakooa, in the island of Owyhee. The surrounding
shores were wild and broken, with overhanging cliffs and
precipices of black volcanic rock. Beyond these, however, the
country was fertile and well cultivated, with inclosures of yams,
plantains, sweet potatoes, sugar-canes, and other productions of
warm climates and teeming soils; and the numerous habitations of
the natives were pleasantly sheltered beneath clumps of cocoanut
and bread-fruit trees, which afforded both food and shade. This
mingled variety of garden and grove swept gradually up the sides
of the mountains, until succeeded by dense forests, which in turn
gave place to naked and craggy rocks, until the summits rose into
the regions of perpetual snow.

The royal residence of Tamaahmaah was at this time at another
island named Woahoo. The island of Owyhee was under the command
of one of his eris, or chiefs, who resided at the village of
Tocaigh, situated on a different part of the coast from the bay
of Karakakooa.

On the morning after her arrival, the ship was surrounded by
canoes and pirogues, filled with the islanders of both sexes,
bringing off supplies of fruits and vegetables, bananas,
plantains, watermelons, yams, cabbages and taro. The captain was
desirous, however, of purchasing a number of hogs, but there were
none to be had -The trade in pork was a royal monopoly, and no
subject of the great Tamaahmaah dared to meddle with it. Such
provisions as they could furnish, however, were brought by the
natives in abundance, and a lively intercourse was kept up during
the day, in which the women mingled in the kindest manner.

The islanders are a comely race, of a copper complexion. The men
are tall and well made, with forms indicating strength and
activity; the women with regular and occasionally handsome
features, and a lascivious expression, characteristic of their
temperament. Their style of dress was nearly the same as in the
days of Captain Cook. The men wore the maro, a band one foot in
width and several feet in length, swathed round the loins, and
formed of tappa, or cloth of bark; the kihei, or mantle, about
six feet square, tied in a knot over one shoulder, passed under
the opposite arm, so as to leave it bare, and falling in graceful
folds before and behind, to the knee, so as to bear some
resemblance to a Roman toga.

The female dress consisted of the pau, a garment formed of a
piece of tappa, several yards in length and one in width, wrapped
round the waist, and reaching like a petticoat, to the knees.
Over this kihei, or mantle, larger than that of the men,
sometimes worn over both shoulders, like a shawl, sometimes over
one only. These mantles were seldom worn by either sex during the
heat of the day, when the exposure of their persons was at first
very revolting to a civilized eye.

Towards evening several of the partners and clerks went on shore,
where they were well received and hospitably entertained. A dance
was performed for their amusement, in which nineteen young women
and one man figured very gracefully, singing in concert, and
moving to the cadence of their song.

All this, however, was nothing to the purpose in the eyes of
Captain Thorn, who, being disappointed in his hope of obtaining a
supply of pork, or finding good water, was anxious to be off.
This it was not so easy to effect. The passengers, once on shore,
were disposed, as usual, to profit by the occasion. The partners
had many inquiries to make relative to the island, with a view to
business; while the young clerks were delighted with the charms
and graces of the dancing damsels.

To add to their gratifications, an old man offered to conduct
them to the spot where Captain Cook was massacred. The
proposition was eagerly accepted, and all hands set out on a
pilgrimage to the place. The veteran islander performed his
promise faithfully, and pointed out the very spot where the
unfortunate discoverer fell. The rocks and cocoa-trees around
bore record of the fact, in the marks of the balls fired from the
boats upon the savages. The pilgrims gathered round the old man,
and drew from him all the particulars he had to relate respecting
this memorable event; while the honest captain stood by and bit
his nails with impatience. To add to his vexation, they employed
themselves in knocking off pieces of the rocks, and cutting off
the bark of the trees marked by the balls, which they conveyed
back to the ship as precious relics.

Right glad, therefore, was he to get them and their treasures
fairly on board, when he made sail from this unprofitable place,
and steered for the Bay of Tocaigh, the residence of the chief or
governor of the island, where he hoped to be more successful in
obtaining supplies. On coming to anchor the captain went on
shore, accompanied by Mr. M'Dougal and Mr. M'Kay, and paid a
visit to the governor. This dignitary proved to be an old sailor,
by the name of John Young; who, after being tossed about the seas
like another Sinbad, had, by one of the whimsical freaks of
fortune, been elevated to the government of a savage island. He
received his visitors with more hearty familiarity than
personages in his high station are apt to indulge, but soon gave
them to understand that provisions were scanty at Tocaigh, and
that there was no good water, no rain having fallen in the
neighborhood in three years.

The captain was immediately for breaking up the conference and
departing, but the partners were not so willing to part with the
nautical governor, who seemed disposed to be extremely
communicative, and from whom they might be able to procure some
useful information. A long conversation accordingly ensued, in
the course of which they made many inquiries about the affairs of
the islands, their natural productions, and the possibility of
turning them to advantage in the way of trade; nor did they fail
to inquire into the individual history of John Young, and how he
came to be governor. This he gave with great condescension,
running through the whole course of his fortunes "even from his
boyish days."

He was a native of Liverpool, in England, and had followed the
sea from boyhood, until, by dint of good conduct, he had risen so
far in his profession as to be boatswain of an American ship
called the Eleanor, commanded by Captain Metcalf. In this vessel
he had sailed in 1789, on one of those casual expeditions to the
northwest coast, in quest of furs. In the course of the voyage,
the captain left a small schooner, named the Fair American, at
Nootka, with a crew of five men, commanded by his son, a youth of
eighteen. She was to follow on in the track of the Eleanor.

In February, 1790, Captain Metcalf touched at the island of
Mowee, one of the Sandwich group. While anchored here, a boat
which was astern of the Eleanor was stolen, and a seaman who was
in it was killed. The natives, generally, disclaimed the outrage,
and brought the shattered remains of the boat and the dead body
of the seaman to the ship. Supposing that they had thus appeased
the anger of the captain, they thronged, as usual, in great
numbers about the vessel, to trade. Captain Metcalf, however,
determined on a bloody revenge. The Eleanor mounted ten guns. All
these he ordered to be loaded with musket-balls, nails, and
pieces of old iron, and then fired them, and the small arms of
the ship, among the natives. The havoc was dreadful; more than a
hundred, according to Young's account, were slain.

After this signal act of vengeance, Captain Metcalf sailed from
Mowee, and made for the island of Owyhee, where he was well
received by Tamaahmaah. The fortunes of this warlike chief were
at that time on the rise. He had originally been of inferior
rank, ruling over only one or two districts of Owyhee, but had
gradually made himself sovereign of his native island.

The Eleanor remained some few days at anchor here, and an
apparently friendly intercourse was kept up with the inhabitants.
On the 17th March, John Young obtained permission to pass the
night on shore. On the following morning a signal-gun summoned
him to return on board.

He went to the shore to embark, but found all the canoes hauled
up on the beach and rigorously tabooed, or interdicted. He would
have launched one himself, but was informed by Tamaahmaah that if
he presumed to do so he would be put to death.

Young was obliged to submit, and remained all day in great
perplexity to account for this mysterious taboo, and fearful that
some hostility was intended. In the evening he learned the cause
of it, and his uneasiness was increased. It appeared that the
vindictive act of Captain Metcalf had recoiled upon his own head.
The schooner Fair American, commanded by his son, following in
his track, had fallen into the hands of the natives to the
southward of Tocaigh Bay, and young Metcalf and four of the crew
had been massacred.

On receiving intelligence of this event, Tamaahmaah had
immediately tabooed all the canoes, and interdicted all
intercourse with the ship, lest the captain should learn the fate
of the schooner, and take his revenge upon the island. For the
same reason he prevented Young from rejoining his countrymen. The
Eleanor continued to fire signals from time to time for two days,
and then sailed; concluding, no doubt, that the boatswain had
deserted.

John Young was in despair when he saw the ship make sail; and
found himself abandoned among savages;-and savages, too,
sanguinary in their character, and inflamed by acts of hostility.
He was agreeably disappointed, however, in experiencing nothing
but kind treatment from Tamaahmaah and his people. It is true, he
was narrowly watched whenever a vessel came in sight, lest he
should escape and relate what had passed; but at other times he
was treated with entire confidence and great distinction. He
became a prime favorite, cabinet counsellor, and active coadjutor
of Tamaahmaah, attending him in all his excursions, whether of
business or pleasure, and aiding in his warlike and ambitious
enterprises. By degrees he rose to the rank of a chief, espoused
one of the beauties of the island, and became habituated and
reconciled to his new way of life; thinking it better, perhaps,
to rule among savages than serve among white men; to be a
feathered chief than a tarpaulin boatswain. His favor with
Tamahmaah, never declined; and when that sagacious, intrepid, and
aspiring chieftain had made himself sovereign over the whole
group of islands, and removed his residence to Woahoo, he left
his faithful adherent John Young in command of Owyhee.

Such is an outline of the history of Governor Young, as furnished
by himself; and we regret that we are not able to give any
account of the state maintained by this seafaring worthy, and the
manner in which he discharged his high functions; though it is
evident he had more of the hearty familiarity of the forecastle
than the dignity of the gubernatorial office.

These long conferences were bitter trials to the patience of the
captain, who had no respect either for the governor or his
island, and was anxious to push on in quest of provisions and
water. As soon as he could get his inquisitive partners once more
on board, he weighed anchor, and made sail for the island of
Woahoo, the royal residence of Tamaahmaah.

This is the most beautiful island of the Sandwich group. It is
forty-six miles in length and twenty-three in breadth. A ridge of
volcanic mountains extends through the centre, rising into lofty
peaks, and skirted by undulating hills and rich plains, where the
cabins of the natives peep out from beneath groves of cocoanut
and other luxuriant trees.

On the 21st of February the Tonquin cast anchor in the beautiful
bay before the village of Waititi, (pronounced Whyteetee.) the
abode of Tamaahmaah. This village contained about two hundred
habitations, composed of poles set in the ground, tied together
at the ends, and thatched with grass, and was situated in an open
grove of cocoanuts. The royal palace of Tamaahmaah was a large
house of two stories; the lower of stone, the upper of wood.
Round this his body-guard kept watch, composed of twenty-four men
in long blue cassocks, turned up with yellow, and each armed with
a musket.

While at anchor at this place, much ceremonious visiting and long
conferences took place between the potentate of the islands and
the partners of the company. Tamaahmaah came on board of the ship
in royal style, in his double pirogue. He was between fifty and
sixty years of age, above the middle size, large and well made,
though somewhat corpulent. He was dressed in an old suit of
regimentals, with a sword by his side, and seemed somewhat
embarrassed by his magnificent attire. Three of his wives
accompanied him. They were almost as tall, and quite as corpulent
as himself; but by no means to be compared with him in grandeur
of habiliments, wearing no other garb than the pan. With him,
also, came his great favorite and confidential counseller,
Kraimaker; who, from holding a post equivalent to that of prime
minister, had been familiarly named Billy Pitt by the British
visitors to the islands.

The sovereign was received with befitting ceremonial. The
American flag was displayed, four guns were fired, and the
partners appeared in scarlet coats, and conducted their
illustrious guests to the cabin, where they were regaled with
wine. In this interview the partners endeavored to impress the
monarch with a sense of their importance, and of the importance
of the association to which they belonged. They let him know that
they were eris, or chiefs, of a great company about to be
established on the northwest coast, and talked of the probability
of opening a trade with his islands, and of sending ships there
occasionally. All this was gratifying and interesting to him, for
he was aware of the advantages of trade, and desirous of
promoting frequent intercourse with white men. He encouraged
Europeans and Americans to settle in his islands and intermarry
with his subjects. There were between twenty and thirty white men
at that time resident in the island, but many of them were mere
vagabonds, who remained there in hopes of leading a lazy and an
easy life. For such Tamaahmaah had a great contempt; those only
had his esteem and countenance who knew some trade or mechanic
art, and were sober and industrious.

On the day subsequent to the monarch's visit, the partners landed
and waited upon him in return. Knowing the effect of show and
dress upon men in savage life, and wishing to make a favorable
impression as the eris, or chiefs, of the great American Fur
Company, some of them appeared in Highland plaids and kilts to
the great admiration of the natives.

While visits of ceremony and grand diplomatic conferences were
going on between the partners and the king, the captain, in his
plain, matter-of-fact way, was pushing what he considered a far
more important negotiation; the purchase of a supply of hogs. He
found that the king had profited in more ways than one by his
intercourse with white men. Above all other arts he had learned
the art of driving a bargain. He was a magnanimous monarch, but a
shrewd pork merchant; and perhaps thought he could not do better
with his future allies, the American Fur Company, than to begin
by close dealing. Several interviews were requisite, and much
bargaining, before he could be brought to part with a bristle of
his bacon, and then he insisted upon being paid in hard Spanish
dollars; giving as a reason that he wanted money to purchase a
frigate from his brother George, as he affectionately termed the
king of England. *

At length the royal bargain was concluded; the necessary supply
of hogs obtained, besides several goats, two sheep, a quantity of
poultry, and vegetables in abundance. The partners now urged to
recruit their forces from the natives of this island. They
declared they had never seen watermen equal to them, even among
the voyageurs of the Northwest; and, indeed, they are remarkable
for their skill in managing their light craft, and can swim and
dive like waterfowl. The partners were inclined, therefore, to
take thirty or forty with them to the Columbia, to be ernployed
in the service of the company. The captain, however, objected
that there was not room in his vessel for the accommodation of
such a number. Twelve, only, were therefore enlisted for the
company, and as many more for the service of the ship. The former
engaged to serve for the term of three years, during , which they
were to be fed and clothed; and at the expiration of the time
were to receive one hundred dollars in merchandise.

And now, having embarked his live-stock, fruits, vegetables, and
water, the captain made ready to set sail. How much the honest
man had suffered in spirit by what he considered the freaks and
vagaries of his passengers, and how little he had understood
their humors and intentions, is amusingly shown in a letter
written to Mr. Astor from Woahoo, which contains his comments on
the scenes we have described.

"It would be difficult," he writes, "to imagine the frantic
gambols that are daily played off here; sometimes dressing in red
coats, and otherwise very fantastically, and collecting a number
of ignorant natives around them, telling them that they are the
great eris of the Northwest, and making arrangements for sending
three or four vessels yearly to them from the coast with spars,
&c.; while those very natives cannot even furnish a hog to the
ship. Then dressing in Highland plaids and kilts, and making
similar arrangements, with presents of rum, wine, or anything
that is at hand. Then taking a number of clerks and men on shore
to the very spot on which Captain Cook was killed, and each
fetching off a piece of the rock or tree that was touched by the
shot. Then sitting down with some white man or some native who
can be a little understood, and collecting the history of those
islands, of Tamaahmaah's wars, the curiosities of the islands,
&c., preparatory to the histories of their voyages; and the
collection is indeed ridiculously contemptible. To enumerate the
thousand instances of ignorance, filth, &c., - or to
particularize all the frantic gambols that are daily practiced,
would require Volumes.

Before embarking, the great eris of the American Fur Company took
leave of their illustrious ally in due style, with many
professions of lasting friendship and promises of future
intercourse; while the matter-of-fact captain anathematized him
in his heart for a grasping, trafficking savage; as shrewd and
sordid in his dealings as a white man. As one of the vessels of
the company will, in the course of events, have to appeal to the
justice and magnanimity of this island potentate, we shall see
how far the honest captain was right in his opinion.

* It appears, from the accounts of subsequent voyagers, that
Tamaahmaah afterwards succeeded in his wish of purchasing a large
ship. In this he sent a cargo of sandal-wood to Canton, having
discovered that the foreign merchants trading with him made large
profits on this wood, shipped by them from the islands to the
Chinese markets. The ship was manned by natives, but the officers
were Englishmen. She accomplished her voyage, and returned in
safety to the islands, with the Hawaiian flag floating gloriously
in the breeze. The king hastened on board, expecting to find his
sandal-wood converted into crapes and damasks, and other rich
stuffs of China, but found, to his astonishment, by the
legerdemain of traffic, his cargo had all disappeared, and, in
place of it, remained a bill of charges amounting to three
thousand dollars. It was some time before he could be made to
comprehend certain of the most important items of the bill, such
as pilotage, anchorage, and custom-house fees; but when he
discovered that maritime states in other countries derived large
revenues in this manner, to the great cost of the merchant,
"Well," cried he, "then I will have harbor fees also." He
established them accordingly. Pilotage a dollar a foot on the
draft of each vessel. Anchorage from sixty to seventy dollars. In
this way he greatly increased the royal revenue, and turned his
China speculation to account.

                          CHAPTER VII.
                                
Departure From the Sandwich Islands.- Misunderstandings- Miseries
   of a Suspicious Man.- Arrival at the Columbia - Dangerous
Service. - Gloomy Apprehensions- Bars and Breakers.- Perils of
   the Ship. Disasters of a Boat's Crew.-Burial of a Sandwich
                           Islander.

IT was on the 28th of February that the Tonquin set sail from the
Sandwich Islands. For two days the wind was contrary, and the
vessel was detained in their neighborhood; at length a favorable
breeze sprang up, and in a little while the rich groves, green
hills, and snowy peaks of those happy islands one after another
sank from sight, or melted into the blue distance, and the
Tonquin ploughed her course towards the sterner regions of the
Pacific.

The misunderstandings between the captain and his passengers
still continued; or rather, increased in gravity. By his
altercations and his moody humors, he had cut himself off from
all community of thought, or freedom of conversation with them.
He disdained to ask questions as to their proceedings, and could
only guess at the meaning of their movements, and in so doing
indulged in conjectures and suspicions, which produced the most
whimsical self-torment.

Thus, in one of his disputes with them, relative to the goods on
board, some of the packages of which they wished to open, to take
out articles of clothing for the men or presents for the natives,
he was so harsh and peremptory that they lost all patience, and
hinted that they were the strongest party, and might reduce him
to a very ridiculous dilemma, by taking from him the command.

A thought now flashed across the captain's mind that they really
had a plan to depose him, and that, having picked up some
information at Owyhee, possibly of war between the United States
and England, they meant to alter the destination of the voyage;
perhaps to seize upon ship and cargo for their own use.

Once having conceived this suspicion, everything went to foster
it. They had distributed fire-arms among some of their men, a
common precaution among the fur traders when mingling with the
natives. This, however, looked like preparation. Then several of
the partners and clerks and some of the men, being Scotsmen, were
acquainted with the Gaelic, and held long conversations together
in that language. These conversations were considered by the
captain of a "mysterious and unwarranted nature," and related, no
doubt, to some foul conspiracy that was brewing among them. He
frankly avows such suspicions, in his letter to Mr. Astor, but
intimates that he stood ready to resist any treasonous outbreak;
and seems to think that the evidence of preparation on his part
had an effect in overawing the conspirators.

The fact is, as we have since been informed by one of the
parties, it was a mischievous pleasure with some of the partners
and clerks, who were young men, to play upon the suspicious
temper and splenetic humors of the captain. To this we may
ascribe many of their whimsical pranks and absurd propositions,
and, above all, their mysterious colloquies in Gaelic.

In this sore and irritable mood did the captain pursue his
course, keeping a wary eye on every movement, and bristling up
whenever the detested sound of the Gaelic language grated upon
his ear. Nothing occurred, however, materially to disturb the
residue of the voyage excepting a violent storm; and on the
twenty-second of March, the Tonquin arrived at the mouth of the
Oregon, or Columbia River.

The aspect of the river and the adjacent coast was wild and
dangerous. The mouth of the Columbia is upwards of four miles
wide with a peninsula and promontory on one side, and a long low
spit of land on the other; between which a sand bar and chain of
breakers almost block the entrance. The interior of the country
rises into successive ranges of mountains, which, at the time of
the arrival of the Tonquin, were covered with snow.

A fresh wind from the northwest sent a rough tumbling sea upon
the coast, which broke upon the bar in furious surges, and
extended a sheet of foam almost across the mouth of the river.
Under these circumstances the captain did not think it prudent to
approach within three leagues, until the bar should be sounded
and the channel ascertained. Mr. Fox, the chief mate, was ordered
to this service in the whaleboat, accompanied by John Martin, an
old seaman, who had formerly visited the river, and by three
Canadians. Fox requested to have regular sailors to man the boat,
but the captain would not spare them from the service of the
ship, and supposed the Canadians, being expert boatmen on lakes
and rivers, were competent to the service, especially when
directed and aided by Fox and Martin. Fox seems to have lost all
firmness of spirit on the occasion, and to have regarded the
service with a misgiving heart. He came to the partners for
sympathy, knowing their differences with the captain, and the
tears were in his eyes as he represented his case. "I am sent
off," said he, "without seamen to man my boat, in boisterous
weather, and on the most dangerous part of the northwest coast.
My uncle was lost a few years ago on this same bar, and I am now
going to lay my bones alongside of his." The partners sympathized
in his apprehensions, and remonstrated with the captain. The
latter, however, was not to be moved. He had been displeased with
Mr. Fox in the earlier part of the voyage, considering him
indolent and inactive; and probably thought his present
repugnance arose from a want of true nautical spirit. The
interference of the partners in the business of the ship, also,
was not calculated to have a favorable effect on a stickler for
authority like himself, especially in his actual state of feeling
towards them.

At one o'clock, P.m., therefore, Fox and his comrades set off in
the whaleboat, which is represented as small in size, and crazy
in condition. All eyes were strained after the little bark as it
pulled for shore, rising and sinking with the huge rolling waves,
until it entered, a mere speck, among the foaming breakers, and
was soon lost to view. Evening set in, night succeeded and passed
away, and morning returned, but without the return of the boat.

As the wind had moderated, the ship stood near to the land, so as
to command a view of the river's mouth. Nothing was to be seen
but a wild chaos of tumbling waves breaking upon the bar, and
apparently forming a foaming barrier from shore to shore. Towards
night the ship again stood out to gain sea-room, and a gloom was
visible in every countenance. The captain himself shared in the
general anxiety, and probably repented of his peremptory orders.
Another weary and watchful night succeeded, during which the wind
subsided, and the weather became serene.

On the following day, the ship having drifted near the land,
anchored in fourteen fathoms water, to the northward of the long
peninsula or promontory which forms the north side of the
entrance, and is called Cape Disappointment. The pinnace was then
manned, and two of the partners, Mr. David Stuart and Mr. M'Kay,
set off in the hope of learning something of the fate of the
whaleboat. The surf, however, broke with such violence along the
shore that they could find no landing place. Several of the
natives appeared on the beach and made signs to them to row round
the cape, but they thought it most prudent to return to the ship.

The wind now springing up, the Tonquin got under way, and stood
in to seek the channel; but was again deterred by the frightful
aspect of the breakers, from venturing within a league. Here she
hove to; and Mr. Mumford, the second mate, was despatched with
four hands, in the pinnace, to sound across the channel until he
should find four fathoms depth. The pinnace entered among the
breakers, but was near being lost, and with difficulty got back
to the ship. The captain insisted that Mr. Mumford had steered
too much to the southward. He now turned to Mr. Aiken, an able
mariner, destined to command the schooner intended for the
coasting trade, and ordered him, together with John Coles, sail-
maker, Stephen Weekes, armorer, and two Sandwich Islanders, to
proceed ahead and take soundings, while the ship should follow
under easy sail. In this way they proceeded until Aiken had
ascertained the channel, when signal was given from the ship for
him to return on board. He was then within pistol shot, but so
furious was the current, and tumultuous the breakers, that the
boat became unmanageable, and was hurried away, the crew crying
out piteously for assistance. In a few moments she could not be
seen from the ship's deck. Some of the passengers climbed to the
mizzen top, and beheld her still struggling to reach the ship;
but shortly after she broached broadside to the waves, and her
case seemed desperate. The attention of those on board of the
ship was now called to their own safety. They were in shallow
water; the vessel struck repeatedly, the waves broke over her,
and there was danger of her foundering. At length she got into
seven fathoms water, and the wind lulling, and the night coming
on, cast anchor. With the darkness their anxieties increased. The
wind whistled, the sea roared, the gloom was only broken by the
ghastly glare of the foaming breakers, the minds of the seamen
were full of dreary apprehensions, and some of them fancied they
heard the cries of their lost comrades mingling with the uproar
of the elements. For a time, too, the rapidly ebbing tide
threatened to sweep them from their precarious anchorage. At
length the reflux of the tide, and the springing up of the wind,
enabled them to quit their dangerous situation and take shelter
in a small bay within Cape Disappointment, where they rode in
safety during the residue of a stormy night, and enjoyed a brief
interval of refreshing sleep.

With the light of day returned their cares and anxieties. They
looked out from the mast-head over a wild coast, and wilder sea,
but could discover no trace of the two boats and their crews that
were missing. Several of the natives came on board with peltries,
but there was no disposition to trade. They were interrogated by
signs after the lost boats, but could not understand the
inquiries.

Parties now Went on shore and scoured the neighborhood. One of
these was headed by the captain. They had not proceeded far when
they beheld a person at a distance in civilized garb. As he drew
near he proved to be Weekes, the armorer. There was a burst of
joy, for it was hoped his comrades were near at hand. His story,
however, was one of disaster. He and his companions had found it
impossible to govern their boat, having no rudder, and being
beset by rapid and whirling currents and boisterous surges. After
long struggling they had let her go at the mercy of the waves,
tossing about, sometimes with her bow, sometimes with her
broadside to the surges, threatened each instant with
destruction, yet repeatedly escaping, until a huge sea broke over
and swamped her. Weekes was overwhelmed by the broiling waves,
but emerging above the surface, looked round for his companions.
Aiken and Coles were not to be seen; near him were the two
Sandwich Islanders, stripping themselves of their clothing that
they might swim more freely. He did the same, and the boat
floating near to him he seized hold of it. The two islanders
joined him, and, uniting their forces, they succeeded in turning
the boat upon her keel; then bearing down her stern and rocking
her, they forced out so much water that she was able to bear the
weight of a man without sinking. One of the islanders now got in,
and in a little while bailed out the water with his hands. The
other swam about and collected the oars, and they all three got
once more on board.

By this time the tide had swept them beyond the breakers, and
Weekes called on his companions to row for land. They were so
chilled and benumbed by the cold, however, that they lost all
heart, and absolutely refused. Weekes was equally chilled, but
had superior sagacity and self-command. He counteracted the
tendency to drowsiness and stupor which cold produces by keeping
himself in constant exercise; and seeing that the vessel was
advancing, and that everything depended upon himself, he set to
work to scull the boat clear of the bar, and into quiet water.

Toward midnight one of the poor islanders expired; his companion
threw himself on his corpse and could not be persuaded to leave
him. The dismal night wore away amidst these horrors: as the day
dawned, Weekes found himself near the land. He steered directly
for it, and at length, with the aid of the surf, ran his boat
high upon a sandy beach.

Finding that one of the Sandwich Islanders yet gave signs of
life, he aided him to leave the boat, and set out with him
towards the adjacent woods. The poor fellow, however, was too
feeble to follow him, and Weekes was soon obliged to abandon him
to his fate and provide for his own safety. Falling upon a beaten
path, he pursued it, and after a few hours came to a part of the
coast, where, to his surprise and joy, he beheld the ship at
anchor and was met by the captain and his party.

After Weekes had related his adventures, three parties were
despatched to beat up the coast in search of the unfortunate
islander. They returned at night without success, though they had
used the utmost diligence. On the following day the search was
resumed, and the poor fellow was at length discovered lying
beneath a group of rocks, his legs swollen, his feet torn and
bloody from walking through bushes and briars, and himself half-
dead with cold, hunger, and fatigue. Weekes and this islander
were the only survivors of the crew of the jolly-boat, and no
trace was ever discovered of Fox and his party. Thus eight men
were lost on the first approach to the coast; a commencement that
cast a gloom over the spirits of the whole party, and was
regarded by some of the superstitious as an omen that boded no
good to the enterprise.

Towards night the Sandwich Islanders went on shore, to bury the
body of their unfortunate countryman who had perished in the
boat. On arriving at the place where it had been left, they dug a
grave in the sand, in which they deposited the corpse, with a
biscuit under one of the arms, some lard under the chin, and a
small quantity of tobacco, as provisions for its journey in the
land of spirits. Having covered the body with sand and flints,
they kneeled along the grave in a double row, with their faces
turned to the east, while one who officiated as a priest
sprinkled them with water from a hat. In so doing he recited a
kind of prayer or invocation, to which, at intervals, the others
made responses. Such were the simple rites performed by these
poor savages at the grave of their comrade on the shores of a
strange land; and when these were done, they rose and returned in
silence to the ship, without once casting a look behind.

                         CHAPTER VIII.
                                
Mouth of the Columbia.- The Native Tribes.- Their Fishing.- Their
   Canoes.- Bold Navigators- Equestrian Indians and Piscatory
Indians, Difference in Their Physical Organization.- Search for a
    Trading Site. - Expedition of M'Dougal and David Stuart-
Comcomly, the OneEyed Chieftain.- Influence of Wealth in Savage
Life.- Slavery Among the Natives.-An Aristocracy of Flatheads.-
   Hospitality Among the Chinooks- Comcomly's Daughter.- Her
                           Conquest.

THE Columbia, or Oregon, for the distance of thirty or forty
miles from its entrance into the sea, is, properly speaking, a
mere estuary, indented by deep bays so as to vary from three to
seven miles in width; and is rendered extremely intricate and
dangerous by shoals reaching nearly from shore to shore, on
which, at times, the winds and currents produce foaming and
tumultuous breakers. The mouth of the river proper is but about
half a mile wide, formed by the contracting shores of the
estuary. The entrance from the sea, as we have already observed,
is bounded on the south side by a flat sandy spit of land,
stretching in to the ocean. This is commonly called Point Adams.
The opposite, or northern side, is Cape Disappointment; a kind of
peninsula, terminating in a steep knoll or promontory crowned
with a forest of pine-trees, and connected with the mainland by a
low and narrow neck. Immediately within this cape is a wide, open
bay, terminating at Chinook Point, so called from a neighboring
tribe of Indians. This was called Baker's Bay, and here the
Tonquin was anchored.

The natives inhabiting the lower part of the river, and with whom
the company was likely to have the most frequent intercourse,
were divided at this time into four tribes, the Chinooks,
Clatsops, Wahkiacums, and Cathlamahs. They resembled each other
in person, dress, language, and manner; and were probably from
the same stock, but broken into tribes, or rather hordes, by
those feuds and schisms frequent among Indians.

These people generally live by fishing. It is true they
occasionally hunt the elk and deer, and ensnare the water-fowl of
their ponds and rivers, but these are casual luxuries. Their
chief subsistence is derived from the salmon and other fish which
abound in the Columbia and its tributary streams, aided by roots
and herbs, especially the wappatoo, which is found on the islands
of the river.

As the Indians of the plains who depend upon the chase are bold
and expert riders, and pride themselves upon their horses, so
these piscatory tribes of the coast excel in the management of
canoes, and are never more at home than when riding upon the
waves. Their canoes vary in form and size. Some are upwards of
fifty feet long, cut out of a single tree, either fir or white
cedar, and capable of carrying thirty persons. They have thwart
pieces from side to side about three inches thick, and their
gunwales flare outwards, so as to cast off the surges of the
waves. The bow and stern are decorated with grotesque figures of
men and animals, sometimes five feet in height.

In managing their canoes they kneel two and two along the bottom,
sitting on their heels, and wielding paddles from four to five
feet long, while one sits on the stern and steers with a paddle
of the same kind. The women are equally expert with the men in
managing the canoe, and generally take the helm.

It is surprising to see with what fearless unconcern these
savages venture in their light barks upon the roughest and most
tempestuous seas. They seem to ride upon the waves like sea-fowl.
Should a surge throw the canoe upon its side and endanger its
overturn, those to windward lean over the upper gunwale, thrust
their paddles deep into the wave, apparently catch the water and
force it under the canoe, and by this action not merely regain
III an equilibrium, but give their bark a vigorous impulse
forward.

The effect of different modes of life upon the human frame and
human character is strikingly instanced in the contrast between
the hunting Indians of the prairies, and the piscatory Indians of
the sea-coast. The former, continually on horseback scouring the
plains, gaining their food by hardy exercise, and subsisting
chiefly on flesh, are generally tall, sinewy, meagre, but well
formed, and of bold and fierce deportment: the latter, lounging
about the river banks, or squatting and curved up in their
canoes, are generally low in stature, ill-shaped, with crooked
legs, thick ankles, and broad flat feet. They are inferior also
in muscular power and activity, and in game qualities and
appearance, to their hard-riding brethren of the prairies.

Having premised these few particulars concerning the neighboring
Indians, we will return to the immediate concerns of the Tonquin
and her crew.

Further search was made for Mr. Fox and his party, but with no
better success, and they were at length given up as lost. In the
meantime, the captain and some of the partners explored the river
for some distance in a large boat, to select a suitable place for
the trading post. Their old jealousies and differences continued;
they never could coincide in their choice, and the captain
objected altogether to any site so high up the river. They all
returned, therefore, to Baker's Bay in no very good humor. The
partners proposed to examine the opposite shore, but the captain
was impatient of any further delay. His eagerness to "get on" had
increased upon him. He thought all these excursions a sheer loss
of time, and was resolved to land at once, build a shelter for
the reception of that part of his cargo destined for the use of
the settlement, and, having cleared his ship of it and of his
irksome shipmates, to depart upon the prosecution of his coasting
voyage, according to orders.

On the following day, therefore, without troubling himself to
consult the partners, he landed in Baker's Bay, and proceeded to
erect a shed for the reception of the rigging, equipments, and
stores of the schooner that was to be built for the use of the
settlement.

This dogged determination on the part of the sturdy captain gave
high offense to Mr. M'Dougal, who now considered himself at the
head of the concern, as Mr. Astor's representative and proxy. He
set off the same day, (April 5th) accompanied by David Stuart,
for the southern shore, intending to be back by the seventh. Not
having the captain to contend with, they soon pitched upon a spot
which appeared to them favorable for the intended establishment.
It was on a point of land called Point George, having a very good
harbor, where vessels, not exceeding two hundred tons burden,
might anchor within fifty yards of the shore.

After a day thus profitably spent, they recrossed the river, but
landed on the northern shore several miles above the anchoring
ground of the Tonquin, in the neighborhood of Chinooks, and
visited the village of that tribe. Here they were received with
great hospitality by the chief, who was named Comcomly, a shrewd
old savage, with but one eye, who will occasionally figure in
this narrative. Each village forms a petty sovereignty, governed
by its own chief, who, however, possesses but little authority,
unless he be a man of wealth and substance; that is to say,
possessed of canoe, slaves, and wives. The greater the number of
these, the greater is the chief. How many wives this one-eyed
potentate maintained we are not told, but he certainly possessed
great sway, not merely over his own tribe, but over the
neighborhood.

Having mentioned slaves, we would observe that slavery exists
among several of the tribes beyond the Rocky Mountains. The
slaves are well treated while in good health, but occupied in all
kinds of drudgery. Should they become useless, however, by
sickness or old age, they are totally neglected, and left to
perish; nor is any respect paid to their bodies after death.

A singular custom prevails, not merely among the Chinooks, but
among most of the tribes about this part of the coast, which is
the flattening of the forehead. The process by which this
deformity is effected commences immediately after birth. The
infant is laid in a wooden trough, by way of cradle. The end on
which the head reposes is higher than the rest. A padding is
placed on the forehead of the infant, with a piece of bark above
it, and is pressed down by cords, which pass through holes on
each side of the trough. As the tightening of the padding and the
pressing of the head to the board is gradual, the process is said
not to be attended with much pain. The appearance of the infant,
however, while in this state of compression, is whimsically
hideous, and "its little black eyes," we are told, "being forced
out by the tightness of the bandages, resemble those of a mouse
choked in a trap."

About a year's pressure is sufficient to produce the desired
effect, at the end of which time the child emerges from its
bandages a complete flathead, and continues so through life. It
must be noted that this flattening of the head has something in
it of aristocratical significancy, like the crippling of the feet
among the Chinese ladies of quality. At any rate, it is a sign of
freedom. No slave is permitted to bestow this enviable deformity
upon his child; all the slaves, therefore, are roundheads.

With this worthy tribe of Chinooks the two partners passed a part
of the day very agreeably. M'Dougal, who was somewhat vain of his
official rank, had given it to be understood that they were two
chiefs of a great trading company, about to be established here,
and the quick-sighted, though one-eyed chief, who was somewhat
practiced in traffic with white men, immediately perceived the
policy of cultivating the friendship of two such important
visitors. He regaled them, therefore, to the best of his ability,
with abundance of salmon and wappatoo. The next morning, April
7th, they prepared to return to the vessel, according to promise.
They had eleven miles of open bay to traverse; the wind was
fresh, the waves ran high. Comcomly remonstrated with them on the
hazard to which they would be exposed. They were resolute,
however, and launched their boat, while the wary chieftain
followed at some short distance in his canoe. Scarce had they
rowed a mile, when a wave broke over their boat and upset it.
They were in imminent peril of drowning, especially Mr. M'Dougal,
who could not swim. Comcomly, however, came bounding over the
waves in his light canoe, and snatched them from a watery grave.

They were taken on shore and a fire made, at which they dried
their clothes, after which Comcomly conducted them back to his
village. Here everything was done that could be devised for their
entertainment during three days that they were detained by bad
weather. Comcomly made his people perform antics before them; and
his wives and daughters endeavored, by all the soothing and
endearing arts of women, to find favor in their eyes. Some even
painted their bodies with red clay, and anointed themselves with
fish oil, to give additional lustre to their charms. Mr. M'Dougal
seems to have had a heart susceptible to the influence of the
gentler sex. Whether or no it was first touched on this occasion
we do not learn; but it will be found, in the course of this
work, that one of the daughters of the hospitable Comcomly
eventually made a conquest of the great eri of the American Fur
Company.

When the weather had moderated and the sea became tranquil, the
one-eyed chief of the Chinooks manned his state canoe, and
conducted his guests in safety to the ship, where they were
welcomed with joy, for apprehensions had been felt for their
safety. Comcomly and his people were then entertained on board of
the Tonquin, and liberally rewarded for their hospitality and
services. They returned home highly satisfied, promising to
remain faithful friends and allies of the white men.

                          CHAPTER IX.
                                
   Point George- Founding of Astoria- Indian Visitors.- Their
   Reception.- The Captain Taboos the Ship.- Departure of the
      Tonquin. - Comments on the Conduct of Captain Thorn.

FROM the report made by the two exploring partners, it was
determined that Point George should be the site of the trading
house. These gentlemen, it is true, were not perfectly satisfied
with the place, and were desirous of continuing their search; but
Captain Thorn was impatient to land his cargo and continue his
voyage, and protested against any more of what he termed
"sporting excursions."

Accordingly, on the 12th of April the launch was freighted with
all things necessary for the purpose, and sixteen persons
departed in her to commence the establishment, leaving the
Tonquin to follow as soon as the harbor could be sounded.

Crossing the wide mouth of the river, the party landed, and
encamped at the bottom of a small bay within Point George. The
situation chosen for the fortified post was on an elevation
facing to the north, with the wide estuary, its sand bars and
tumultuous breakers spread out before it, and the promontory of
Cape Disappointment, fifteen miles distant, closing the prospect
to the left. The surrounding country was in all the freshness of
spring; the trees were in the young leaf, the weather was superb,
and everything looked delightful to men just emancipated from a
long confinement on shipboard. The Tonquin shortly afterwards
made her way through the intricate channel, an came to anchor in
the little bay, and was saluted from the encampment with three
volleys of musketry and three cheers. She returned the salute
with three cheers and three guns.

All hands now set to work cutting down trees, clearing away
thickets, and marking out the place for the residence,
storehouse, and powder magazine, which were to be built of logs
and covered with bark. Others landed the timbers intended for the
frame of the coasting vessel, and proceeded to put them together,
while others prepared a garden spot, and sowed the seeds of
various vegetables.

The next thought was to give a name to the embryo metropolis: the
one that naturally presented itself was that of the projector and
supporter of the whole enterprise. It was accordingly named
ASTORIA.

The neighboring Indians now swarmed about the place. Some brought
a few land-otter and sea-otter skins to barter, but in very
scanty parcels; the greater number came prying about to gratify
their curiosity, for they are said to be impertinently
inquisitive; while not a few came with no other design than to
pilfer; the laws of meum and tuum being but slightly respected
among them. Some of them beset the ship in their canoes, among
whom was the Chinook chief Comcomly, and his liege subjects.
These were well received by Mr. M'Dougal, who was delighted with
an opportunity of entering upon his functions, and acquiring
importance in the eyes of his future neighbors. The confusion
thus produced on board, and the derangement of the cargo caused
by this petty trade, stirred the spleen of the captain, who had a
sovereign contempt for the one-eyed chieftain and all his crew.
He complained loudly of having his ship lumbered by a host of
"Indian ragamuffins," who had not a skin to dispose of, and at
length put his positive interdict upon all trafficking on board.
Upon this Mr. M'Dougal was fain to land, and establish his
quarters at the encampment, where he could exercise his rights
and enjoy his dignities without control.

The feud, however, between these rival powers still continued,
but was chiefly carried on by letter. Day after day and week
after week elapsed, yet the store-house requisite for the
reception of the cargo was not completed, and the ship was
detained in port; while the captain was teased by frequent
requisitions for various articles for the use of the
establishment, or the trade with the natives. An angry
correspondence took place, in which he complained bitterly of the
time wasted in "smoking and sporting parties," as he termed the
reconnoitering expeditions, and in clearing and preparing meadow
ground and turnip patches, instead of despatching his ship. At
length all these jarring matters were adjusted, if not to the
satisfaction, at least to the acquiescence of all parties. The
part of the cargo destined for the use of Astoria was landed, and
the ship left free to proceed on her voyage.

As the Tonquin was to coast to the north, to trade for peltries
at the different harbors, and to touch at Astoria on her return
in the autumn, it was unanimously determined that Mr. M'Kay
should go in her as supercargo, taking with him Mr. Lewis as
ship's clerk. On the first of June the ship got under way, and
dropped down to Baker's Bay, where she was detained for a few
days by a head wind; but early in the morning of the fifth stood
out to sea with a fine breeze and swelling canvas, and swept off
gaily on her fatal voyage, from which she was never to return!

On reviewing the conduct of Captain Thorn, and examining his
peevish and somewhat whimsical correspondence, the impression
left upon our mind is, upon the whole, decidedly in his favor.
While we smile at the simplicity of his heart and the narrowness
of his views, which made him regard everything out of the direct
path of his daily duty, and the rigid exigencies of the service,
as trivial and impertinent, which inspired him with contempt for
the swelling vanity of some of his coadjutors, and the literary
exercises and curious researches of others, we cannot but applaud
that strict and conscientious devotion to the interests of his
employer, and to what he considered the true objects of the
enterprise in which he was engaged. He certainly was to blame
occasionally for the asperity of his manners, and the arbitrary
nature of his measures, yet much that is exceptionable in this
part of his conduct may be traced to rigid notions of duty
acquired in that tyrannical school, a ship of war, and to the
construction given by his companions to the orders of Mr. Astor,
so little in conformity with his own. His mind, too, appears to
have become almost diseased by the suspicions he had formed as to
the loyalty of his associates, and the nature of their ultimate
designs; yet on this point there were circumstances to, in some
measure, justify him. The relations between the United States and
Great Britain were at that time in a critical state; in fact, the
two countries were on the eve of a war. Several of the partners
were British subjects, and might be ready to desert the flag
under which they acted, should a war take place. Their
application to the British minister at New York shows the dubious
feeling with which they had embarked in the present enterprise.
They had been in the employ of the Northwest Company, and might
be disposed to rally again under that association, should events
threaten the prosperity of this embryo establishment of Mr.
Astor. Besides, we have the fact, averred to us by one of the
partners, that some of them, who were young and heedless, took a
mischievous and unwarrantable pleasure in playing upon the
jealous temper of the captain, and affecting mysterious
consultations and sinister movements.

These circumstances are cited in palliation of the doubts and
surmises of Captain Thorn, which might otherwise appear strange
and unreasonable. That most of the partners were perfectly
upright and faithful in the discharge of the trust reposed in
them we are fully satisfied; still the honest captain was not
invariably wrong in his suspicions; and that he formed a pretty
just opinion of the integrity of that aspiring personage, Mr.
M'Dougal, will be substantially proved in the sequel.

                           CHAPTER X.
                                
  Disquieting Rumors From the Interior.- Reconnoitring Party-
Preparations for a Trading Post.- An Unexpected Arrival - A Spy
   in the Camp.- Expedition Into the Interior- Shores of the
Columbia - Mount Coffin.- Indian Sepulchre.- The Land of Spirits-
Columbian Valley- Vancouver's Point.-Falls and Rapids.- A Great
  Fishing Mart.- The Village of Wishram. - Difference Between
Fishing Indians and Hunting Indians- Effects of Habits of Trade
  on the Indian Character.- Post Established at the Oakinagan.

WHILE the Astorians were busily occupied in completing their
factory and fort, a report was brought to them by an Indian from
the upper part of the river, that a party of thirty white men had
appeared on the banks of the Columbia, and were actually building
houses at the second rapids. This information caused much
disquiet. We have already mentioned that the Northwest Company
had established posts to the west of the Rocky Mountains, in a
district called by them New Caledonia, which extended from lat.
52  to 55 deg north, being within the British territories. It was
now apprehended that they were advancing within the American
limits, and were endeavoring to seize upon the upper part of the
river and forestall the American Fur Company in the surrounding
trade; in which case bloody feuds might be anticipated, such as
had prevailed between the rival fur companies in former days.

A reconnoitring party was sent up the river to ascertain the
truth of the report. They ascended to the foot of the first
rapid, about two hundred miles, but could hear nothing of any
white men being in the neighborhood.

Not long after their return, however, further accounts were
received, by two wandering Indians, which established the fact
that the Northwest Company had actually erected a trading house
on the Spokane River, which falls into the north branch of the
Columbia.

What rendered this intelligence the more disquieting was the
inability of the Astorians, in their present reduced state as to
numbers, and the exigencies of their new establishment, to
furnish detachments to penetrate the country in different
directions, and fix the posts necessary to secure the interior
trade.

It was resolved, however, at any rate, to advance a countercheck
to this post on the Spokan, and one of the partners, Mr. David
Stuart, prepared to set out for the purpose with eight men and a
small assortment of goods. He was to be guided by the two
Indians, who knew the country and promised to take him to a place
not far from the Spokan River, and in a neighborhood abounding
with beaver. Here he was to establish himself and to remain for a
time, provided he found the situation advantageous and the
natives friendly.

On the 15th of July, when Mr. Stuart was nearly ready to embark,
a canoe made its appearance, standing for the harbor, and manned
by nine white men. Much speculation took place who these
strangers could be, for it was too soon to expect their own
people, under Mr. Hunt, who were to cross the continent. As the
canoe drew near, the British standard was distinguished: on
coming to land, one of the crew stepped on shore, and announced
himself as Mr. David Thompson, astronomer, and partner of the
Northwest Company. According to his account, he had set out in
the preceding year with a tolerably strong party, and a supply of
Indian goods, to cross the Rocky Mountains. A part of his people,
however, had deserted him on the eastern side, and returned with
the goods to the nearest Northwest post. He had persisted in
crossing the mountains with eight men, who remained true to him.
They had traversed the higher regions, and ventured near the
source of the Columbia, where, in the spring, they had
constructed a cedar canoe, the same in which they had reached
Astoria.

This, in fact, was the party despatched by the Northwest Company
to anticipate Mr. Astor in his intention of effecting a
settlement at the mouth of the Columbia River. It appears, from
information subsequently derived from other sources, that Mr.
Thompson had pushed on his course with great haste, calling at
all the Indian villages in his march, presenting them with
British flags, and even planting them at the forks of the rivers,
proclaiming formally that he took possession of the country in
the name of the king of Great Britain for the Northwest Company.
As his original plan was defeated by the desertion of his people,
it is probable that he descended the river simply to reconnoitre,
and ascertain whether an American settlement had been commenced.

Mr. Thompson was, no doubt, the first white man who descended the
northern branch of the Columbia from so near its source. Lewis
and Clarke struck the main body of the river at the forks, about
four hundred miles from its mouth. They entered it from Lewis
River, its southern branch, and thence descended.

Though Mr. Thompson could be considered as little better than a
spy in the camp, he was received with great cordiality by Mr.
M'Dougal, who had a lurking feeling of companionship and good-
will for all of the Northwest Company. He invited him to head-
quarters, where he and his people were hospitably entertained.
Nay, further, being somewhat in extremity, he was furnished by
Mr. M'Dougal with goods and provisions for his journey back
across the mountains, much against the wishes Of Mr. David
Stuart, who did not think the object of his visit entitled him to
any favor.

On the 23rd of July, Mr. Stuart set out upon his expedition to
the interior. His party consisted of four of the clerks, Messrs.
Pillet, Ross, M'Lennon, and Montigny, two Canadian voyageurs, and
two natives of the Sandwich Islands. They had three canoes well
laden with provisions, and with goods and necessities for a
trading establishment.

Mr. Thompson and his party set out in company with them, it being
his intention to proceed direct to Montreal. The partners at
Astoria forwarded by him a short letter to Mr. Astor, informing
him of their safe arrival at the mouth of the Columbia, and that
they had not yet heard of Mr. Hunt. The little squadron of canoes
set sail with a favorable breeze, and soon passed Tongue Point, a
long, high, and rocky promontory, covered with trees, and
stretching far into the river. Opposite to this, on the northern
shore, is a deep bay, where the Columbia anchored at the time of
the discovery, and which is still called Gray's Bay, from the
name of her commander.

From hence, the general course of the river for about seventy
miles was nearly southeast; varying in breadth according to its
bays and indentations, and navigable for vessels of three hundred
tons. The shores were in some places high and rocky, with low
marshy islands at their feet, subject to inundation, and covered
with willows, poplars, and other trees that love an alluvial
soil. Sometimes the mountains receded, and gave place to
beautiful plains and noble forests. While the river margin was
richly fringed with trees of deciduous foliage, the rough uplands
were crowned by majestic pines, and firs of gigantic size, some
towering to the height of between two and three hundred feet,
with proportionate circumference. Out of these the Indians
wrought their great canoes and pirogues.

At one part of the river, they passed, on the northern side, an
isolated rock, about one hundred and fifty feet high, rising from
a low marshy soil, and totally disconnected with the adjacent
mountains. This was held in great reverence by the neighboring
Indians, being one of their principal places of sepulture. The
same provident care for the deceased that prevails among the
hunting tribes of the prairies is observable among the piscatory
tribes of the rivers and sea-coast. Among the former, the
favorite horse of the hunter is buried with him in the same
funereal mound, and his bow and arrows are laid by his side, that
he may be perfectly equipped for the "happy hunting grounds" of
the land of spirits. Among the latter, the Indian is wrapped in
his mantle of skins, laid in his canoe, with his paddle, his
fishing spear, and other implements beside him, and placed aloft
on some rock or other eminence overlooking the river, or bay, or
lake, that he has frequented. He is thus fitted out to launch
away upon those placid streams and sunny lakes stocked with all
kinds of fish and waterfowl, which are prepared in the next world
for those who have acquitted themselves as good sons, good
fathers, good husbands, and, above all, good fishermen, during
their mortal sojourn.

The isolated rock in question presented a spectacle of the kind,
numerous dead bodies being deposited in canoes on its summit;
while on poles around were trophies, or, rather, funeral
offerings of trinkets, garments, baskets of roots, and other
articles for the use of the deceased. A reverential feeling
protects these sacred spots from robbery or insult. The friends
of the deceased, especially the women, repair here at sunrise and
sunset for some time after his death, singing his funeral dirge,
and uttering loud wailings and lamentations.

From the number of dead bodies in canoes observed upon this rock
by the first explorers of the river, it received the name of
Mount Coffin, which it continues to bear.

Beyond this rock they passed the mouth of a river on the right
bank of the Columbia, which appeared to take its rise in a
distant mountain covered with snow. The Indian name of this river
was the Cowleskee. Some miles further on they came to the great
Columbian Valley, so called by Lewis and Clarke. It is sixty
miles in width, and extends far to the southeast between parallel
ridges of mountains, which bound it on the east and west. Through
the centre of this valley flowed a large and beautiful stream,
called the Wallamot, which came wandering for several miles,
through a yet unexplored wilderness. The sheltered situation of
this immense valley had an obvious effect upon the climate. It
was a region of great beauty and luxuriance, with lakes and
pools, and green meadows shaded by noble groves. Various tribes
were said to reside in this valley, and along the banks of the
Wallamot.

About eight miles above the mouth of the Wallamot the little
squadron arrived at Vancouver's Point, so called in honor of that
celebrated voyager by his lieutenant (Broughton) when he explored
the river. This point is said to present one of the most
beautiful scenes on the Columbia; a lovely meadow, with a silver
sheet of limpid water in the center, enlivened by wild-fowl, a
range of hills crowned by forests, while the prospect is closed
by Mount Hood, a magnificent mountain rising into a lofty peak,
and covered with snow; the ultimate landmark of the first
explorers of the river.

Point Vancouver is about one hundred miles from Astoria. Here the
reflux of the tide ceases to be perceptible. To this place
vessels of two and three hundred tons burden may ascend. The
party under the command of Mr. Stuart had been three or four days
in reaching it, though we have forborne to notice their daily
progress and nightly encampments.

From Point Vancouver the river turned towards the northeast, and
became more contracted and rapid, with occasional islands and
frequent sand-banks. These islands are furnished with a number of
ponds, and at certain seasons abound with swans, geese, brandts,
cranes, gulls, plover, and other wild-fowl. The shores, too, are
low and closely wooded, with such an undergrowth of vines and
rushes as to be almost impassable.

About thirty miles above Point Vancouver the mountains again
approach on both sides of the river, which is bordered by
stupendous precipices, covered with the fir and the white cedar,
and enlivened occasionally by beautiful cascades leaping from a
great height, and sending up wreaths of vapor. One of these
precipices, or cliffs, is curiously worn by time and weather so
as to have the appearance of a ruined fortress, with towers and
battlements, beetling high above the river, while two small
cascades, one hundred and fifty feet in height, pitch down from
the fissures of the rocks.

The turbulence and rapidity of the current continually augmenting
as they advanced, gave the voyagers intimation that they were
approaching the great obstructions of the river, and at length
they arrived at Strawberry Island, so called by Lewis and Clarke,
which lies at the foot of the first rapid. As this part of the
Columbia will be repeatedly mentioned in the course of this work,
being the scene of some of its incidents, we shall give a general
description of it in this place.

The falls or rapids of the Columbia are situated about one
hundred and eighty miles above the mouth of the river. The first
is a perpendicular cascade of twenty feet, after which there is a
swift descent for a mile, between islands of hard black rock, to
another pitch of eight feet divided by two rocks. About two and a
half miles below this the river expands into a wide basin,
seemingly dammed up by a perpendicular ridge of black rock. A
current, however, sets diagonally to the left of this rocky
barrier, where there is a chasm forty-five yards in width.
Through this the whole body of the river roars along, swelling
and whirling and boiling for some distance in the wildest
confusion. Through this tremendous channel the intrepid explorers
of the river, Lewis and Clarke, passed in their boats; the danger
being, not from the rocks, but from the great surges and
whirlpools.

At the distance of a mile and a half from the foot of this narrow
channel is a rapid, formed by two rocky islands; and two miles
beyond is a second great fall, over a ledge of rocks twenty feet
high, extending nearly from shore to shore. The river is again
compressed into a channel from fifty to a hundred feet wide, worn
through a rough bed of hard black rock, along which it boils and
roars with great fury for the distance of three miles. This is
called "The Long Narrows."

Here is the great fishing place of the Columbia. In the spring of
the year, when the water is high, the salmon ascend the river in
incredible numbers. As they pass through this narrow strait, the
Indians, standing on the rocks, or on the end of wooden stages
projecting from the banks, scoop them up with small nets
distended on hoops and attached to long handles, and cast them on
the shore.

They are then cured and packed in a peculiar manner. After having
been opened and disemboweled, they are exposed to the sun on
scaffolds erected on the river banks. When sufficiently dry, they
are pounded fine between two stones, pressed into the smallest
compass, and packed in baskets or bales of grass matting, about
two feet long and one in diameter, lined with the cured skin of a
salmon. The top is likewise covered with fish skins, secured by
cords passing through holes in the edge of the basket. Packages
are then made, each containing twelve of these bales, seven at
bottom, five at top, pressed close to each other, with the corded
side upward, wrapped in mats and corded. These are placed in dry
situations, and again covered with matting. Each of these
packages contains from ninety to a hundred pounds of dried fish,
which in this state will keep sound for several years.** (Lewis
and Clarke, vol. ii. p. 32.)

We have given this process at some length, as furnished by the
first explorers, because it marks a practiced ingenuity in
preparing articles of traffic for a market, seldom seen among our
aboriginals. For like reason we would make especial mention of
the village of Wishram, at the head of the Long Narrows, as being
a solitary instance of an aboriginal trading mart, or emporium.
Here the salmon caught in the neighboring rapids were
"warehoused," to await customers. Hither the tribes from the
mouth of the Columbia repaired with the fish of the sea-coast,
the roots, berries, and especially the wappatoo, gathered in the
lower parts of the river, together with goods and trinkets
obtained from the ships which casually visit the coast. Hither
also the tribes from the Rocky Mountains brought down horses,
bear-grass, quamash, and other commodities of the interior. The
merchant fishermen at the falls acted as middlemen or factors,
and passed the objects of traffic, as it were, cross-handed;
trading away part of the wares received from the mountain tribes
to those of the rivers and plains, and vice versa: their packages
of pounded salmon entered largely into the system of barter, and
being carried off in opposite directions, found their way to the
savage hunting camps far in the interior, and to the casual white
traders who touched upon the coast.

We have already noticed certain contrarieties of character
between the Indian tribes, produced by their diet and mode of
life; and nowhere are they more apparent than about the falls of
the Columbia. The Indians of this great fishing mart are
represented by the earliest explorers as sleeker and fatter, but
less hardy and active, than the tribes of the mountains and
prairies, who live by hunting, or of the upper parts of the
river, where fish is scanty, and the inhabitants must eke out
their subsistence by digging roots or chasing the deer. Indeed,
whenever an Indian of the upper country is too lazy to hunt, yet
is fond of good living, he repairs to the falls, to live in
abundance without labor.

"By such worthless dogs as these," says an honest trader in his
journal, which now lies before us, "by such worthless dogs as
these are these noted fishing-places peopled, which, like our
great cities, may with propriety be called the headquarters of
vitiated principles."

The habits of trade and the avidity of gain have their corrupting
effects even in the wilderness, as may be instanced in the
members of this aboriginal emporium; for the same journalist
denounces them as "saucy, impudent rascals, who will steal when
they can, and pillage whenever a weak party falls in their
power."

That he does not belie them will be evidenced hereafter, when we
have occasion again to touch at Wishram and navigate the rapids.
In the present instance the travellers effected the laborious
ascent of this part of the river, with all its various portages,
without molestation, and once more launched away in smooth water
above the high falls.

The two parties continued together, without material impediment,
for three or four hundred miles further up the Columbia; Mr.
Thompson appearing to take great interest in the success of Mr.
Stuart, and pointing out places favorable, as he said, to the
establishment of his contemplated trading post.

Mr. Stuart, who distrusted his sincerity, at length pretended to
adopt his advice, and, taking leave of him, remained as if to
establish himself, while the other proceeded on his course
towards the mountains. No sooner, however, had he fairly departed
than Mr. Stuart again pushed forward, under guidance of the two
Indians, nor did he stop until he had arrived within about one
hundred and forty miles of the Spokan River, which he considered
near enough to keep the rival establishment in check. The place
which he pitched upon for his trading post was a point of land
about three miles in length and two in breadth, formed by the
junction of the Oakinagan with the Columbia. The former is a
river which has its source in a considerable lake about one
hundred and fifty miles west of the point of junction. The two
rivers, about the place of their confluence, are bordered by
immense prairies covered with herbage, but destitute of trees.
The point itself was ornamented with wild flowers of every hue,
in which innumerable humming-birds were "banqueting nearly the
livelong day."

The situation of this point appeared to be well adapted for a
trading post. The climate was salubrious, the soil fertile, the
rivers well stocked with fish, the natives peaceable and
friendly. There were easy communications with the interior by the
upper waters of the Columbia and the lateral stream of the
Oakinagan, while the downward current of the Columbia furnished a
highway to Astoria.

Availing himself, therefore, of the driftwood which had collected
in quantities in the neighboring bends of the river, Mr. Stuart
and his men set to work to erect a house, which in a little while
was sufficiently completed for their residence; and thus was
established the first interior post of the company. We will now
return to notice the progress of affairs at the mouth of the
Columbia.

                          CHAPTER XI.
                                
Alarm at Astoria.- Rumor of Indian Hostilities.- Preparations for
             Defense.- Tragic Fate of the Tonquin.

THE sailing of the Tonquin, and the departure of Mr. David Stuart
and his detachment, had produced a striking effect on affairs at
Astoria. The natives who had swarmed about the place began
immediately to drop off, until at length not an Indian was to be
seen. This, at first, was attributed to the want of peltries with
which to trade; but in a little while the mystery was explained
in a more alarming manner. A conspiracy was said to be on foot
among the neighboring tribes to make a combined attack upon the
white men, now that they were so reduced in number. For this
purpose there had been a gathering of warriors in a neighboring
bay, under pretex of fishing for sturgeon; and fleets of canoes
were expected to join them from the north and South. Even
Comcomly, the one-eyed chief, notwithstanding his professed
friendship for Mr. M'Dougal, was strongly suspected of being
concerned in this general combination.

Alarmed at rumors of this impending danger, the Astorians
suspended their regular labor, and set to work, with all haste,
to throw up temporary works for refuge and defense. In the course
of a few days they surrounded their dwelling-house and magazines
with a picket fence ninety feet square, flanked by two bastions,
on which were mounted four four-pounders. Every day they
exercised themselves in the use of their weapons, so as to
qualify themselves for military duty, and at night ensconced
themselves in their fortress and posted sentinels, to guard
against surprise. In this way they hoped, even in case of attack,
to be able to hold out until the arrival of the party to be
conducted by Mr. Hunt across the Rocky Mountains, or until the
return of the Tonquin. The latter dependence, however, was doomed
soon to be destroyed. Early in August, a wandering band of
savages from the Strait of Juan de Fuca made their appearance at
the mouth of the Columbia, where they came to fish for sturgeon.
They brought disastrous accounts of the Tonquin, which were at
first treated as fables, but which were too sadly confirmed by a
different tribe that arrived a few days subsequently. We shall
relate the circumstances of this melancholy affair as correctly
as the casual discrepancies in the statements that have reached
us will permit.

We have already stated that the Tonquin set sail from the mouth
of the river on the fifth of June. The whole number of persons on
board amounted to twenty-three. In one of the outer bays they
picked up, from a fishing canoe, an Indian named Lamazee, who had
already made two voyages along the coast and knew something of
the language of the various tribes. He agreed to accompany them
as interpreter.

Steering to the north, Captain Thorn arrived in a few days at
Vancouver's Island, and anchored in the harbor of Neweetee, very
much against the advice of his Indian interpreter, who warned him
against the perfidious character of the natives of this part of
the coast. Numbers of canoes soon came off, bringing sea-otter
skins to sell. It was too late in the day to commence a traffic,
but Mr. M'Kay, accompanied by a few of the men, went on shore to
a large village to visit Wicananish, the chief of the surrounding
territory, six of the natives remaining on board as hostages. He
was received with great professions of friendship, entertained
hospitably, and a couch of sea-otter skins prepared for him in
the dwelling of the chieftain, where he was prevailed upon to
pass the night.

In the morning, before Mr. M'Kay had returned to the ship, great
numbers of the natives came off in their canoes to trade, headed
by two sons of Wicananish. As they brought abundance of sea-otter
skins, and there was every appearance of a brisk trade, Captain
Thorn did not wait for the return of Mr. M'Kay, but spread his
wares upon the deck, making a tempting display of blankets,
cloths, knives, beads, and fish-hooks, expecting a prompt and
profitable sale. The Indians, however, were not so eager and
simple as he had supposed, having learned the art of bargaining
and the value of merchandise from the casual traders along the
coast. They were guided, too, by a shrewd old chief named
Nookamis, who had grown gray in traffic with New England
skippers, and prided himself upon his acuteness. His opinion
seemed to regulate the market. When Captain Thorn made what he
considered a liberal offer for an otter-skin, the wily old Indian
treated it with scorn, and asked more than double. His comrades
all took their cue from him, and not an otter-skin was to be had
at a reasonable rate.

The old fellow, however, overshot his mark, and mistook the
character of the man he was treating with. Thorn was a plain,
straightforward sailor, who never had two minds nor two prices in
his dealings, was deficient in patience and pliancy, and totally
wanting in the chicanery of traffic. He had a vast deal of stern
but honest pride in his nature, and, moreover, held the whole
savage race in sovereign contempt. Abandoning all further
attempts, therefore, to bargain with his shuffling customers, he
thrust his hands into his pockets, and paced up and down the deck
in sullen silence. The cunning old Indian followed him to and
fro, holding out a sea-otter skin to him at every turn, and
pestering him to trade. Finding other means unavailing, he
suddenly changed his tone, and began to jeer and banter him upon
the mean prices he offered. This was too much for the patience of
the captain, who was never remarkable for relishing a joke,
especially when at his own expense. Turning suddenly upon his
persecutor, he snatched the proffered otter-skin from his hands,
rubbed it in his face, and dismissed him over the side of the
ship with no very complimentary application to accelerate his
exit. He then kicked the peltries to the right and left about
the deck, and broke up the market in the most ignominious manner.
Old Nookamis made for shore in a furious passion, in which he was
joined by Shewish, one of the sons of Wicananish, who went off
breathing vengeance, and the ship was soon abandoned by the
natives.

When Mr. M'Kay returned on board, the interpreter related what
had passed, and begged him to prevail upon the captain to make
sail, as from his knowledge of the temper and pride of the people
of the place, he was sure they would resent the indignity offered
to one of their chiefs. Mr. M'Kay, who himself possessed some
experience of Indian character, went to the captain, who was
still pacing the deck in moody humor, represented the danger to
which his hasty act had exposed the vessel, and urged him to
weigh anchor. The captain made light of his counsels, and pointed
to his cannon and fire-arms as sufficient safeguard against naked
savages. Further remonstrances only provoked taunting replies and
sharp altercations. The day passed away without any signs of
hostility, and at night the captain retired as usual to his
cabin, taking no more than the usual precautions.

On the following morning, at daybreak, while the captain and Mr.
M'Kay were yet asleep, a canoe came alongside in which were
twenty Indians, commanded by young Shewish. They were unarmed,
their aspect and demeanor friendly, and they held up otter-skins,
and made signs indicative of a wish to trade. The caution
enjoined by Mr. Astor, in respect to the admission of Indians on
board of the ship, had been neglected for some time past, and the
officer of the watch, perceiving those in the canoe to be without
weapons, and having received no orders to the contrary, readily
permitted them to mount the deck. Another canoe soon succeeded,
the crew of which was likewise admitted. In a little while other
canoes came off, and Indians were soon clambering into the vessel
on all sides.

The officer of the watch now felt alarmed, and called to Captain
Thorn and Mr. M'Kay. By the time they came on deck, it was
thronged with Indians. The interpreter noticed to Mr. M'Kay that
many of the natives wore short mantles of skins, and intimated a
suspicion that they were secretly armed. Mr. M'Kay urged the
captain to clear the ship and get under way. He again made light
of the advice; but the augmented swarm of canoes about the ship,
and the numbers still putting off from shore, at length awakened
his distrust, and he ordered some of the crew to weigh anchor,
while some were sent aloft to make sail.

The Indians now offered to trade with the captain on his own
terms, prompted, apparently, by the approaching departure of the
ship. Accordingly, a hurried trade was commenced. The main
articles sought by the savages in barter were knives; as fast as
some were supplied they moved off, and others succeeded. By
degrees they were thus distributed about the deck, and all with
weapons.

The anchor was now nearly up, the sails were loose, and the
captain, in a loud and peremptory tone, ordered the ship to be
cleared. In an instant, a signal yell was given; it was echoed on
every side, knives and war-clubs were brandished in every
direction, and the savages rushed upon their marked victims.

The first that fell was Mr. Lewis, the ship's clerk. He was
leaning, with folded arms, over a bale of blankets, engaged in
bargaining, when he received a deadly stab in the back, and fell
down the companion-way.

Mr. M'Kay, who was seated on the taffrail, sprang on his feet,
but was instantly knocked down with a war-club and flung
backwards into the sea, where he was despatched by the women in
the canoes.

In the meantime Captain Thorn made desperate fight against
fearful odds. He was a powerful as well as a resolute man, but he
had come upon deck without weapons. Shewish, the young chief
singled him out as his peculiar prey, and rushed upon him at the
first outbreak. The captain had barely time to draw a clasp-knife
with one blow of which he laid the young savage dead at his feet.
Several of the stoutest followers of Shewish now set upon him. He
defended himself vigorously, dealing crippling blows to right and
left, and strewing the quarter-deck with the slain and wounded.
His object was to fight his way to the cabin, where there were
fire-arms; but he was hemmed in with foes, covered with wounds,
and faint with loss of blood. For an instant he leaned upon the
tiller wheel, when a blow from behind, with a war-club, felled
him to the deck, where he was despatched with knives and thrown
overboard.

While this was transacting upon the quarter-deck, a chance-medley
fight was going on throughout the ship. The crew fought
desperately with knives, handspikes, and whatever weapon they
could seize upon in the moment of surprise. They were soon,
however, overpowered by numbers, and mercilessly butchered.

As to the seven who had been sent aloft to make sail, they
contemplated with horror the carnage that was going on below.
Being destitute of weapons, they let themselves down by the
running rigging, in hopes of getting between decks. One fell in
the attempt, and was instantly despatched; another received a
death-blow in the back as he was descending; a third, Stephen
Weekes, the armorer, was mortally wounded as he was getting down
the hatchway.

The remaining four made good their retreat into the cabin, where
they found Mr. Lewis, still alive, though mortally wounded.
Barricading the cabin door, they broke holes through the
companion-way, and, with the muskets and ammunition which were at
hand, opened a brisk fire that soon cleared the deck.

Thus far the Indian interpreter, from whom these particulars are
derived, had been an eye-witness to the deadly conflict. He had
taken no part in it, and had been spared by the natives as being
of their race. In the confusion of the moment he took refuge with
the rest, in the canoes. The survivors of the crew now sallied
forth, and discharged some of the deck-guns, which did great
execution among the canoes, and drove all the savages to shore.

For the remainder of the day no one ventured to put off to the
ship, deterred by the effects of the fire-arms. The night passed
away without any further attempts on the part of the natives.
When the day dawned, the Tonquin still lay at anchor in the bay,
her sails all loose and flapping in the wind, and no one
apparently on board of her. After a time, some of the canoes
ventured forth to reconnoitre, taking with them the interpreter.

They paddled about her, keeping cautiously at a distance, but
growing more and more emboldened at seeing her quiet and
lifeless. One man at length made his appearance on the deck, and
was recognized by the interpreter as Mr. Lewis. He made friendly
signs, and invited them on board. It was long before they
ventured to comply. Those who mounted the deck met with no
opposition; no one was to be seen on board; for Mr. Lewis, after
inviting them, had disappeared. Other canoes now pressed forward
to board the prize; the decks were soon crowded, and the sides
covered with clambering savages, all intent on plunder. In the
midst of their eagerness and exultation, the ship blew up with a
tremendous explosion. Arms, legs, and mutilated bodies were blown
into the air, and dreadful havoc was made in the surrounding
canoes. The interpreter was in the main-chains at the time of the
explosion, and was thrown unhurt into the water, where he
succeeded in getting into one of the canoes. According to his
statement, the bay presented an awful spectacle after the
catastrophe. The ship had disappeared, but the bay was covered
with fragments of the wreck, with shattered canoes, and Indians
swimming for their lives, or struggling in the agonies of death;
while those who had escaped the danger remained aghast and
stupefied, or made with frantic panic for the shore. Upwards of a
hundred savages were destroyed by the explosion, many more were
shockingly mutilated, and for days afterwards the limbs and
bodies of the slain were thrown upon the beach.

The inhabitants of Neweetee were overwhelmed with consternation
at this astounding calamity, which had burst upon them in the
very moment of triumph. The warriors sat mute and mournful, while
the women filled the air with loud lamentations. Their weeping
and walling, however, was suddenly changed into yells of fury at
the sight of four unfortunate white men, brought captive into the
village. They had been driven on shore in one of the ship's
boats, and taken at some distance along the coast.

The interpreter was permitted to converse with them. They proved
to be the four brave fellows who had made such desperate defense
from the cabin. The interpreter gathered from them some of the
particulars already related. They told him further, that after
they had beaten off the enemy and cleared the ship, Lewis advised
that they should slip the cable and endeavor to get to sea. They
declined to take his advice, alleging that the wind set too
strongly into the bay and would drive them on shore. They
resolved, as soon as it was dark, to put off quietly in the
ship's boat, which they would be able to do unperceived, and to
coast along back to Astoria. They put their resolution into
effect; but Lewis refused to accompany them, being disabled by
his wound, hopeless of escape, and determined on a terrible
revenge. On the voyage out, he had repeatedly expressed a
presentiment that he should die by his own hands; thinking it
highly probable that he should be engaged in some contest with
the natives, and being resolved, in case of extremity, to commit
suicide rather than be made a prisoner. He now declared his
intention to remain on board of the ship until daylight, to decoy
as many of the savages on board as possible, then to set fire to
the powder magazine, and terminate his life by a signal of
vengeance. How well he succeeded has been shown. His companions
bade him a melancholy adieu, and set off on their precarious
expedition. They strove with might and main to get out of the
bay, but found it impossible to weather a point of land, and were
at length compelled to take shelter in a small cove, where they
hoped to remain concealed until the wind should be more
favorable. Exhausted by fatigue and watching, they fell into a
sound sleep, and in that state were surprised by the savages.
Better had it been for those unfortunate men had they remained
with Lewis, and shared his heroic death: as it was, they perished
in a more painful and protracted manner, being sacrificed by the
natives to the manes of their friends with all the lingering
tortures of savage cruelty. Some time after their death, the
interpreter, who had remained a kind of prisoner at large,
effected his escape, and brought the tragical tidings to Astoria.

Such is the melancholy story of the Tonquin, and such was the
fate of her brave but headstrong commander, and her adventurous
crew. It is a catastrophe that shows the importance, in all
enterprises of moment, to keep in mind the general instructions
of the sagacious heads which devise them. Mr. Astor was well
aware of the perils to which ships were exposed on this coast
from quarrels with the natives, and from perfidious attempts of
the latter to surprise and capture them in unguarded moments. He
had repeatedly enjoined it upon Captain Thorn, in conversation,
and at parting, in his letter of instructions, to be courteous
and kind in his dealings with the savages, but by no means to
confide in their apparent friendship, nor to admit more than a
few on board of his ship at a time.

Had the deportment of Captain Thorn been properly regulated, the
insult so wounding to savage pride would never have been given.
Had he enforced the rule to admit but a few at a time, the
savages would not have been able to get the mastery. He was too
irritable, however, to practice the necessary self-command, and,
having been nurtured in a proud contempt of danger, thought it
beneath him to manifest any fear of a crew of unarmed savages.

With all his faults and foibles, we cannot but speak of him with
esteem, and deplore his untimely fate; for we remember him well
in early life, as a companion in pleasant scenes and joyous
hours. When on shore, among his friends, he was a frank, manly,
sound-hearted sailor. On board ship he evidently assumed the
hardness of deportment and sternness of demeanor which many deem
essential to naval service. Throughout the whole of the
expedition, however, he showed himself loyal, single-minded,
straightforward, and fearless; and if the fate of his vessel may
be charged to his harshness and imprudence, we should recollect
that he paid for his error with his life.

The loss of the Tonquin was a grievous blow to the infant
establishment of Astoria, and one that threatened to bring after
it a train of disasters. The intelligence of it did not reach Mr.
Astor until many months afterwards. He felt it in all its force,
and was aware that it must cripple, if not entirely defeat, the
great scheme of his ambition. In his letters, written at the
time, he speaks of it as "a calamity, the length of which he
could not foresee." He indulged, however, in no weak and vain
lamentation, but sought to devise a prompt and efficient remedy.
The very same evening he appeared at the theatre with his usual
serenity of countenance. A friend, who knew the disastrous
intelligence he had received, expressed his astonishment that he
could have calmness of spirit sufficient for such a scene of
light amusement. "What would you have me do?" was his
characteristic reply; "would you have me stay at home and weep
for what I cannot help?"

                          CHAPTER XII.
                                
Gloom at Astoria- An Ingenious Stratagem.- The Small-Pox Chief. -
  Launching of the Dolly.-An Arrival. - A Canadian Trapper.-A
   Freeman of the Forest- An Iroquois Hunter.- Winter on the
               Columbia.-Festivities of New Year.

THE tidings of the loss of the Tonquin, and the massacre of her
crew, struck dismay into the hearts of the Astorians. They found
themselves a mere handful of men, on a savage coast, surrounded
by hostile tribes, who would doubtless be incited and encouraged
to deeds of violence by the late fearful catastrophe. In this
juncture Mr. M'Dougal, we are told, had recourse to a stratagem
by which to avail himself of the ignorance and credulity of the
savages, and which certainly does credit to his ingenuity.

The natives of the coast, and, indeed, of all the regions west of
the mountains, had an extreme dread of the small-pox; that
terrific scourge having, a few years previously, appeared among
them, and almost swept off entire tribes. Its origin and nature
were wrapped in mystery, and they conceived it an evil inflicted
upon them by the Great Spirit, or brought among them by the white
men. The last idea was seized upon by Mr. M'Dougal. He assembled
several of the chieftains whom he believed to be in the
conspiracy. When they were all seated around, he informed them
that he had heard of the treachery of some of their northern
brethren towards the Tonquin, and was determined on vengeance.
"The white men among you," said he, "are few in number, it is
true, but they are mighty in medicine. See here," continued he,
drawing forth a small bottle and holding it before their eyes,
"in this bottle I hold the small-pox, safely corked up; I have
but to draw the cork, and let loose the pestilence, to sweep man,
woman, and child from the face of the earth."

The chiefs were struck with horror and alarm. They implored him
not to uncork the bottle, since they and all their people were
firm friends of the white men, and would always remain so; but,
should the small-pox be once let out, it would run like wildfire
throughout the country, sweeping off the good as well as the bad;
and surely he would not be so unjust as to punish his friends for
crimes committed by his enemies.

Mr. M'Dougal pretended to be convinced by their reasoning, and
assured them that, so long as the white people should be
unmolested, and the conduct of their Indian neighbors friendly
and hospitable, the phial of wrath should remain sealed up; but,
on the least hostility, the fatal cork should be drawn.

From this time, it is added, he was much dreaded by the natives,
as one who held their fate in his hands, and was called, by way
of preeminence, "the Great Small-pox Chief."

All this while, the labors at the infant settlement went on with
unremitting assiduity, and, by the 26th of September, a
commodious mansion, spacious enough to accommodate all hands, was
completed. It was built of stone and clay, there being no
calcarcous stone in the neighborhood from which lime for mortar
could be procured. The schooner was also finished, and launched,
with the accustomed ceremony, on the second of October, and took
her station below the fort. She was named the Dolly, and was the
first American vessel launched on this coast.

On the 5th of October, in the evening, the little community at
Astoria was enlivened by the unexpected arrival of a detachment
from Mr. David Stuart's post on the Oakinagan. It consisted of
two of the clerks and two of the privates. They brought favorable
accounts of the new establishment, but reported that, as Mr.
Stuart was apprehensive there might be a difficulty of subsisting
his whole party throughout the winter, he had sent one half back
to Astoria, retaining with him only Ross, Montigny, and two
others. Such is the hardihood of the Indian trader. In the heart
of a savage and unknown country, seven hundred miles from the
main body of his fellow-adventurers, Stuart had dismissed half of
his little number, and was prepared with the residue to brave all
the perils of the wilderness, and the rigors of a long and dreary
winter.

With the return party came a Canadian creole named Regis Brugiere
and an Iroquois hunter, with his wife and two children. As these
two personages belong to certain classes which have derived their
peculiar characteristics from the fur trade, we deem some few
particulars concerning them pertinent to the nature of this work.

Brugiere was of a class of beaver trappers and hunters
technically called "Freemen," in the language of the traders.
They are generally Canadians by birth, and of French descent, who
have been employed for a term of years by some fur company, but,
their term being expired, continue to hunt and trap on their own
account, trading with the company like the Indians. Hence they
derive their appellation of Freemen, to distinguish them from the
trappers who are bound for a number of years, and receive wages,
or hunt on shares.

Having passed their early youth in the wilderness, separated
almost entirely from civilized man, and in frequent intercourse
with the Indians, they relapse, with a facility common to human
nature, into the habitudes of savage life. Though no longer bound
by engagements to continue in the interior, they have become so
accustomed to the freedom of the forest and the prairie, that
they look back with repugnance upon the restraints of
civilization. Most of them intermarry with the natives, and, like
the latter, have often a plurality of wives. Wanderers of the
wilderness, according to the vicissitudes of the seasons, the
migrations of animals, and the plenty or scarcity of game, they
lead a precarious and unsettled existence; exposed to sun and
storm, and all kinds of hardships, until they resemble Indians in
complexion as well as in tastes and habits. From time to time,
they bring the peltries they have collected to the trading houses
of the company in whose employ they have been brought up. Here
they traffic them away for such articles of merchandise or
ammunition as they may stand in need of. At the time when
Montreal was the great emporium of the fur trader, one of these
freemen of the wilderness would suddenly return, after an absence
of many years, among his old friends and comrades. He would be
greeted as one risen from the dead; and with the greater welcome,
as he returned flush of money. A short time, however, spent in
revelry, would be sufficient to drain his purse and sate him with
civilized life, and he would return with new relish to the
unshackled freedom of the forest.

Numbers of men of this class were scattered throughout the
northwest territories. Some of them retained a little of the
thrift and forethought of the civilized man, and became wealthy
among their improvident neighbors; their wealth being chiefly
displayed in large bands of horses, which covered the prairies in
the vicinity of their abodes. Most of them, however, were prone
to assimilate to the red man in their heedlessness of the future.

Such was Regis Brugiere, a freeman and rover of the wilderness.
Having been brought up in the service of the Northwest Company,
he had followed in the train of one of its expeditions across the
Rocky Mountains, and undertaken to trap for the trading post
established on the Spokan River. In the course of his hunting
excursions he had either accidentally, or designedly, found his
way to the post of Mr. Stuart, and had been prevailed upon to
ascend the Columbia, and "try his luck" at Astoria.

Ignace Shonowane, the Iroquois hunter, was a specimen of a
different class. He was one of those aboriginals of Canada who
had partially conformed to the habits of civilization and the
doctrines of Christianity, under the influence of the French
colonists and the Catholic priests; who seem generally to have
been more successful in conciliating, taming, and converting the
savages, than their English and Protestant rivals. These half-
civilized Indians retained some of the good, and many of the evil
qualities of their original stock. They were first-rate hunters,
and dexterous in the management of the canoe. They could undergo
great privations, and were admirable for the service of the
rivers, lakes, and forests, provided they could be kept sober,
and in proper subordination; but once inflamed with liquor, to
which they were madly addicted, all the dormant passions inherent
in their nature were prone to break forth, and to hurry them into
the most vindictive and bloody acts of violence.

Though they generally professed the Roman Catholic religion, yet
it was mixed, occasionally, with some of their ancient
superstitions; and they retained much of the Indian belief in
charms and omens. Numbers of these men were employed by the
Northwest Company as trappers, hunters, and canoe men, but on
lower terms than were allowed to white men. Ignace Shonowane had,
in this way, followed the enterprise of the company to the banks
of the Spokan, being, probably, one of the first of his tribe
that had traversed the Rocky Mountains.

Such were some of the motley populace of the wilderness, incident
to the fur trade, who were gradually attracted to the new
settlement of Astoria.

The month of October now began to give indications of approaching
winter. Hitherto, the colonists had been well pleased with the
climate. The summer had been temperate, the mercury never rising
above eighty degrees. Westerly winds had prevailed during the
spring and the early part of the summer, and been succeeded by
fresh breezes from the northwest. In the month of October the
southerly winds set in, bringing with them frequent rain.

The Indians now began to quit the borders of the ocean, and to
retire to their winter quarters in the sheltered bosom of the
forests, or along the small rivers and brooks. The rainy season,
which commences in October, continues, with little intermission,
until April; and though the winters are generally mild, the
mercury seldom sinking below the freezing point, yet the tempests
of wind and rain are terrible. The sun is sometimes obscured for
weeks, the brooks swell into roaring torrents, and the country is
threatened with a deluge.

The departure of the Indians to their winter quarters gradually
rendered provisions scanty, and obliged the colonists to send out
foraging expeditions in the Dolly. Still the little handful of
adventurers kept up their spirits in their lonely fort at
Astoria, looking forward to the time when they should be animated
and reinforced by the party under Mr. Hunt, that was to come to
them across the Rocky Mountains.

The year gradually wore way. The rain, which had poured down
almost incessantly since the first of October, cleared up towards
the evening of the 31st of December, and the morning of the first
of January ushered in a day of sunshine.

The hereditary French holiday spirit of the French voyageurs is
hardly to be depressed by any adversities; and they can manage to
get up a fete in the most squalid situations, and under the most
untoward circumstances. An extra allowance of rum, and a little
flour to make cakes and puddings, constitute a "regale;" and they
forget all their toils and troubles in the song and dance.

On the present occasion, the partners endeavored to celebrate the
new year with some effect. At sunrise the drums beat to arms, the
colors were hoisted, with three rounds of small arms and three
discharges of cannon. The day was devoted to games of agility and
strength, and other amusements; and grog was temperately
distributed, together with bread, butter, and cheese. The best
dinner their circumstances could afford was served up at midday.
At sunset the colors were lowered, with another discharge of
artillery. The night was spent in dancing; and, though there was
a lack of female partners to excite their gallantry, the
voyageurs kept up the ball with true French spirit, until three
o'clock in the morning. So passed the new year festival of 1812
at the infant colony of Astoria.

                         CHAPTER XIII.
  Expedition by Land.- Wilson P. Hunt.- His Character.- Donald
  M'Kenzie.- Recruiting Service Among the Voyageurs. - A Bark
Canoe.- Chapel of St. Anne.-Votive Offerings.- Pious Carousals, -
   A Ragged Regiment.-Mackinaw.- Picture of a Trading Post.-
Frolicking Voyageurs.-Swells and Swaggerers.- Indian Coxcombs.-A
Man of the North.-Jockeyship of Voyageurs- Inefficacy of Gold.-
Weight of a Feather- Mr. Ramsay Crooks- His Character.- His Risks
Among the Indians.-His Warning Concerning Sioux and Blackfeet.-
   Embarkation of Recruits.- Parting Scenes Between Brothers,
        Cousins, Wives, Sweethearts, and Pot Companions.

WE have followed up the fortunes of the maritime part of this
enterprise to the shores of the Pacific, and have conducted the
affairs of the embryo establishment to the opening of the new
year; let us now turn back to the adventurous band to whom was
intrusted the land expedition, and who were to make their way to
the mouth of the Columbia, up vast rivers, across trackless
plains, and over the rugged barriers of the Rocky Mountains.

The conduct of this expedition, as has been already mentioned,
was assigned to Mr. Wilson Price Hunt, of Trenton, New Jersey,
one of the partners of the company, who was ultimately to be at
the head of the establishment at the mouth of the Columbia. He is
represented as a man scrupulously upright and faithful his
dealings, amicable in his disposition, and of most accommodating
manners; and his whole conduct will be found in unison with such
a character. He was not practically experienced in the Indian
trade; that is to say, he had never made any expeditions of
traffic into the heart of the wilderness, but he had been engaged
in commerce at St. Louis, then a frontier settlement on the
Mississippi, where the chief branch of his business had consisted
in furnishing Indian traders with goods and equipments. In this
way, he had acquired much knowledge of the trade at second hand,
and of the various tribes, and the interior country over which it
extended.

Another of the partners, Mr. Donald M'Kenzie, was associated with
Mr. Hunt in the expedition, and excelled on those points in which
the other was deficient; for he had been ten years in the
interior, in the service of the Northwest Company, and valued
himself on his knowledge of "woodcraft," and the strategy of
Indian trade and Indian warfare. He had a frame seasoned to toils
and hardships; a spirit not to be intimidated, and was reputed to
be a "remarkable shot;" which of itself was sufficient to give
him renown upon the frontier.

Mr. Hunt and his coadjutor repaired, about the latter part of
July, 1810, to Montreal, the ancient emporium of the fur trade
where everything requisite for the expedition could be procured.
One of the first objects was to recruit a complement of Canadian
voyageurs from the disbanded herd usually to be found loitering
about the place. A degree of jockeyship, however, is required for
this service, for a Canadian voyageur is as full of latent tricks
and vice as a horse; and when he makes the greatest external
promise, is prone to prove the greatest "take in." Besides, the
Northwest Company, who maintained a long established control at
Montreal, and knew the qualities of every voyageur, secretly
interdicted the prime hands from engaging in this new service; so
that, although liberal terms were offered, few presented
themselves but such as were not worth having.

From these Mr. Hunt engaged a number sufficient, as he supposed,
for present purposes; and, having laid in a supply of ammunition,
provisions, and Indian goods, embarked all on board one of those
great canoes at that time universally used by the fur traders for
navigating the intricate and often-obstructed rivers. The canoe
was between thirty and forty feet long, and several feet in
width; constructed of birch bark, sewed with fibres of the roots
of the spruce tree, and daubed with resin of the pine, instead of
tar. The cargo was made up in packages, weighing from ninety to
one hundred pounds each, for the facility of loading and
unloading, and of transportation at portages. The canoe itself,
though capable of sustaining a freight of upwards of four tons,
could readily be carried on men's shoulders. Canoes of this size
are generally managed by eight or ten men, two of whom are picked
veterans, who receive double wages, and are stationed, one at the
bow and the other at the stern, to keep a look-out and to steer.
They are termed the foreman and the steersman. The rest, who ply
the paddles, are called middle men. When there is a favorable
breeze, the canoe is occasionally navigated with a sail.

The expedition took its regular departure, as usual, from St.
Anne's, near the extremity of the island of Montreal, the great
starting-place of the traders to the interior. Here stood the
ancient chapel of St. Anne, the patroness of the Canadian
voyageurs; where they made confession, and offered up their vows,
previous to departing on any hazardous expedition. The shrine of
the saint was decorated with relics and votive offerings hung up
by these superstitious beings, either to propitiate her favor, or
in gratitude for some signal deliverance in the wilderness. It
was the custom, too, of these devout vagabonds, after leaving the
chapel, to have a grand carouse, in honor of the saint and for
the prosperity of the voyage. In this part of their devotions,
the crew of Mr. Hunt proved themselves by no means deficient.
Indeed, he soon discovered that his recruits, enlisted at
Montreal, were fit to vie with the ragged regiment of Falstaff.
Some were able-bodied, but inexpert; others were expert, but
lazy; while a third class were expert and willing, but totally
worn out, being broken-down veterans, incapable of toil.

With this inefficient crew he made his way up the Ottawa River,
and by the ancient route of the fur traders, along a succession
of small lakes and rivers, to Michilimackinac. Their progress was
slow and tedious. Mr. Hunt was not accustomed to  the management
of "voyageurs," and he had a crew admirably disposed to play the
old soldier, and balk their work; and ever ready to come to a
halt, land, make a fire, put on the great pot, and smoke, and
gossip, and sing by the hour.

It was not until the 22d of July that they arrived at Mackinaw,
situated on the island of the same name, at the confluence of -

lakes Huron and Michigan. This  famous old French trading post
continued to be a rallying point for a multifarious and motley
population. The inhabitants were amphibious in their habits, most
of them being, or having been voyageurs or canoe men. It was the
great place of arrival and departure of the southwest fur trade.
Here the Mackinaw Company had established its principal post,
from whence it communicated with the interior and with Montreal.
Hence its various traders and trappers set out for their
respective destinations about Lake Superior and its tributary
waters, or for the Mississippi, the Arkansas, the Missouri, and
the other regions of the west. Here, after the absence of a year,
or more, they returned with their peltries, and settled their
accounts; the furs rendered in by them being transmitted in
canoes from hence to Montreal. Mackinaw was, therefore, for a
great part of the year, very scantily peopled; but at certain
seasons the traders arrived from all points, with their crews of
voyageurs, and the place swarmed like a hive.

Mackinaw, at that time, was a mere village, stretching along a
small bay, with a fine broad beach in front of its principal row
of houses, and dominated by the old fort, which crowned an
impending height. The beach was a kind of public promenade where
were displayed all the vagaries of a seaport on the arrival of a
fleet from a long cruise. Here voyageurs frolicked away their
wages, fiddling and dancing in the booths and cabins, buying all
kinds of knick-knacks, dressing themselves out finely, and
parading up and down, like arrant braggarts and coxcombs.
Sometimes they met with rival coxcombs in the young Indians from
the opposite shore, who would appear on the beach painted and
decorated in fantastic style, and would saunter up and down, to
be gazed at and admired, perfectly satisfied that they eclipsed
their pale-faccd competitors.

Now and then a chance party of "Northwesters" appeared at
Mackinaw from the rendezvous at Fort William. These held
themselves up as the chivalry of the fur trade. They were men of
iron; proof against cold weather, hard fare, and perils of all
kinds. Some would wear the Northwest button, and a formidable
dirk, and assume something of a military air. They generally wore
feathers in their hats, and affected the "brave." "Je suis un
homme du nord!"-"I am a man of the north,"-one of these swelling
fellows would exclaim, sticking his arms akimbo and ruffling by
the Southwesters, whom he regarded with great contempt, as men
softened by mild climates and the luxurious fare of bread and
bacon, and whom he stigmatized with the inglorious name of pork-
eaters. The superiority assumed by these vainglorious swaggerers
was, in general, tacitly admitted. Indeed, some of them had
acquired great notoriety for deeds of hardihood and courage; for
the fur trade had Its heroes, whose names resounded throughout
the wilderness.

Such was Mackinaw at the time of which we are treating. It now,
doubtless, presents a totally different aspect. The fur companies
no longer assemble there; the navigation of the lake is carried
on by steamboats and various shipping, and the race of traders,
and trappers, and voyageurs, and Indian dandies, have vapored out
their brief hour and disappeared. Such changes does the lapse of
a handful of years make in this ever-changing country.

At this place Mr. Hunt remained for some time, to complete his
assortment of Indian goods, and to increase his number of
voyageurs, as well as to engage some of a more efficient
character than those enlisted at Montreal.

And now commenced another game of Jockeyship. There were able and
efficient men in abundance at Mackinaw, but for several days not
one presented himself. If offers were made to any, they were
listened to with a shake of the head. Should any one seem
inclined to enlist, there were officious idlers and busybodies,
of that class who are ever ready to dissuade others from any
enterprise in which they themselves have no concern. These would
pull him by the sleeve, take him on one side, and murmur in his
ear, or would suggest difficulties outright.

it was objected that the expedition would have to navigate
unknown rivers, and pass through howling wildernesses infested by
savage tribes, who had already cut off the unfortunate voyageurs
that had ventured among them; that it was to climb the Rocky
Mountains and descend into desolate and famished regions, where
the traveller was often obliged to subsist on grasshoppers and
crickets, or to kill his own horse for food.

At length one man was hardy enough to engage, and he was used
like a "stool-pigeon," to decoy others; but several days elapsed
before any more could be prevailed upon to join him. A few then
came to terms. It was desirable to engage them for five years,
but some refused to engage for more than three. Then they must
have part of their pay in advance, which was readily granted.
When they had pocketed the amount, and squandered it in regales
or in outfits, they began to talk of pecuniary obligations at
Mackinaw, which must be discharged before they would be free to
depart; or engagements with other persons, which were only to be
canceled by a "reasonable consideration." It was in vain to argue
or remonstrate. The money advanced had already been sacked and
spent, and must be lost and the recruits left behind, unless they
could be freed from their debts and engagements. Accordingly, a
fine was paid for one; a judgment for another; a tavern bill for
a third, and almost all had to be bought off from some prior
engagement, either real or pretended.

Mr. Hunt groaned in spirit at the incessant and unreasonable
demands of these worthies upon his purse; yet with all this
outlay of funds, the number recruited was but scanty, and many of
the most desirable still held themselves aloof, and were not to
be caught by a golden bait. With these he tried another
temptation. Among the recruits who had enlisted he distributed
feathers and ostrich plumes. These they put in their hats, and
thus figured about Mackinaw, assuming airs of vast importance, as
"voyageurs" in a new company, that was to eclipse the Northwest.
The effect was complete. A French Canadian is too vain and
mercurial a being to withstand the finery and ostentation of the
feather. Numbers immediately pressed into the service. One must
have an ostrich plume; another, a white feather with a red end; a
third, a bunch of cock's tails. Thus all paraded about, in
vainglorious style, more delighted with the feathers in their
hats than with the money in their pockets; and considering
themselves fully equal to the boastful "men of the north."

While thus recruiting the number of rank and file, Mr. Hunt was
joined by a person whom he had invited, by letter, to engage as a
partner in the expedition. This was Mr. Ramsay Crooks, a young
man, a native of Scotland, who had served under the Northwest
Company, and been engaged in trading expeditions upon his
individual account, among the tribes of the Missouri. Mr. Hunt
knew him personally, and had conceived a high and merited opinion
of his judgment, enterprise, and integrity; he was rejoiced,
therefore, when the latter consented to accompany him. Mr.
Crooks, however, drew from experience a picture of the dangers to
which they would be subjected, and urged the importance of going
with a considerable force. In ascending the upper Missouri they
would have to pass through the country of the Sioux Indians, who
had manifested repeated hostility to the white traders, and
rendered their expeditions extremely perilous; firing upon them
from the river banks as they passed beneath in their boats, and
attacking them in their encampments. Mr. Crooks himself, when
voyaging in company with another trader of the name of M'Lellan,
had been interrupted by these marauders, and had considered
himself fortunate in escaping down the river without loss of life
or property, but with a total abandonment of his trading voyage.

Should they be fortunate enough to pass through the country of
the Sioux without molestation, they would have another tribe
still more savage and warlike beyond, and deadly foes of white
men.

These were the Blackfeet Indians, who ranged over a wide extent
of country which they would have to traverse. Under all these
circumstances, it was thought advisable to augment the party
considerably. It already exceeded the number of thirty, to which
it had originally been limited; but it was determined, on
arriving at St. Louis, to increase it to the number of sixty.

These matters being arranged, they prepared to embark; but the
embarkation of a crew of Canadian voyageurs, on a distant
expedition, is not so easy a matter as might be imagined;
especially of such a set of vainglorious fellows with money in
both pockets, and cocks' tails in their hats. Like sailors, the
Canadian voyageurs generally preface a long cruise with a
carouse. They have their cronies, their brothers, their cousins,
their wives, their sweethearts, all to be entertained at their
expense. They feast, they fiddle, they drink, they sing, they
dance, they frolic and fight, until they are all as mad as so
many drunken Indians. The publicans are all obedience to their
commands, never hesitating to let them run up scores without
limit, knowing that, when their own money is expended, the purses
of their employers must answer for the bill, or the voyage must
be delayed. Neither was it possible, at that time, to remedy the
matter at Mackinaw. In that amphibious community there was always
a propensity to wrest the laws in favor of riotous or mutinous
boatmen. It was necessary, also, to keep the recruits in good
humor, seeing the novelty and danger of the service into which
they were entering, and the ease with which they might at anytime
escape it by jumping into a canoe and going downstream.

Such were the scenes that beset Mr. Hunt, and gave him a
foretaste of the difficulties of his command. The little cabarets
and sutlers' shops along the bay resounded with the scraping of
fiddles, with snatches of old French songs, with Indian whoops
and yells, while every plumed and feathered vagabond had his
troop of loving cousins and comrades at his heels. It was with
the utmost difficulty they could be extricated from the clutches
of the publicans and the embraces of their pot companions, who
followed them to the water's edge with many a hug, a kiss on each
cheek, and a maudlin benediction in Canadian French.

It was about the 12th of August that they left Mackinaw, and
pursued the usual route by Green Bay, Fox and Wisconsin rivers,
to Prairie du Chien, and thence down the Mississippi to St.
Louis, where they landed on the 3d of September.

                          CHAPTER XIV.
                                
St. Louis.- Its Situation.- Motley Population.- French Creole
Traders and Their Dependants.- Missouri Fur Company- Mr. Manuel
  Lisa. - Mississippi Boatmen. -  Vagrant Indians. - Kentucky
Hunters - Old French Mansion- Fiddling- Billiards- Mr. Joseph
  Miller - His Character- Recruits- Voyage Up the Missouri. -
   Difficulties of the River.- Merits of Canadian Voyageurs.-
Arrival at the Nodowa.- Mr. Robert M'Lellan joins the Party- John
Day, a Virginia Hunter. Description of Him.- Mr. Hunt Returns to
                           St. Louis.

ST. LOUIS, which is situated on the right bank of the Mississippi
River, a few miles below the mouth of the Missouri, was, at that
time, a frontier settlement, and the last fitting-out place for
the Indian trade of the Southwest. It possessed a motley
population, composed of the creole descendants of the original
French colonists; the keen traders from the Atlantic States; the
backwoodsmen of Kentucky and Tennessee; the Indians and half-
breeds of the prairies; together with a singular aquatic race
that had grown up from the navigation of the rivers  -  the
"boatmen of the Mississippi;- who possessed habits, manners, and
almost a language, peculiarly their own, and strongly technical.
They, at that time, were extremely numerous, and conducted the
chief navigation and commerce of the Ohio and the Mississippi, as
the voyageurs did of the Canadian waters; but, like them, their
consequence and characteristics are rapidly vanishing before the
all-pervading intrusion of steamboats.

The old French houses engaged in the Indian trade had gathered
round them a train of dependents, mongrel Indians, and mongrel
Frenchmen, who had intermarried with Indians. These they employed
in their various expeditions by land and water. Various
individuals of other countries had, of late years, pushed the
trade further into the interior, to the upper waters of the
Missouri, and had swelled the number of these hangers-on. Several
of these traders had, two or three years previously, formed
themselves into a company, composed of twelve partners, with a
capital of about forty thousand dollars, called the Missouri Fur
Company; the object of which was, to establish posts along the
upper part of that river, and monopolize the trade. The leading
partner of this company was Mr. Manuel Lisa, a Spaniard by birth,
and a man of bold and enterprising character, who had ascended
the Missouri almost to its source, and made himself well
acquainted and popular with several of its tribes. By his
exertions, trading posts had been established, in 1808, in the
Sioux country, and among the Aricara and Mandan tribes; and a
principal one, under Mr. Henry, one of the partners, at the forks
of the Missouri. This company had in its employ about two hundred
and fifty men, partly American and partly creole voyageurs.

All these circumstances combined to produce a population at St.
Louis even still more motley than that at Mackinaw. Here were to
be seen, about the river banks, the hectoring, extravagant
bragging boatmen of the Mississippi, with the gay, grimacing,
singing, good-humored Canadian voyageurs. Vagrant Indians, of
various tribes, loitered about the streets. Now and then a stark
Kentucky hunter, in leathern hunting-dress, with rifle on
shoulder and knife in belt, strode along. Here and there were new
brick houses and shops, just set up by bustling, driving, and
eager men of traffic from the Atlantic States; while, on the
other hand, the old French mansions, with open casements, still
retained the easy, indolent air of the original colonists; and
now and then the scraping of a fiddle, a strain of an ancient
French song, or the sound of billiard balls, showed that the
happy Gallic turn for gayety and amusement still lingered about
the place.

Such was St. Louis at the time of Mr. Hunt's arrival there, and
the appearance of a new fur company, with ample funds at its
command, produced a strong sensation among the I traders of the
place, and awakened keen jealousy and opposition on the part of
the Missouri Company. Mr. Hunt proceeded to strengthen himself
against all competition. For this purpose, he secured to the
interests of the association another of those enterprising men,
who had been engaged in individual traffic with the tribes of the
Missouri. This was a Mr. Joseph Miller, a gentleman well educated
and well informed, and of a respectable family of Baltimore. He
had been an officer in the army of the United States, but had
resigned in disgust, on being refused a furlough, and had taken
to trapping beaver and trading among the Indians. He was easily
induced by Mr. Hunt to join as a partner, and was considered by
him, on account of his education and acquirements, and his
experience in Indian trade, a valuable addition to the company.

Several additional men were likewise enlisted at St. Louis, some
as boatmen, and others as hunters. These last were engaged, not
merely to kill game for provisions, but also, and indeed chiefly,
to trap beaver and other animals of rich furs, valuable in the
trade. They enlisted on different terms. Some were to have a
fixed salary of three hundred dollars; others were to be fitted
out and maintained at the expense of the company, and were to
hunt and trap on shares.

As Mr. Hunt met with much opposition on the part of rival
traders, especially the Missouri Fur Company, it took him some
weeks to complete his preparations. The delays which he had
previously experienced at Montreal, Mackinaw, and on the way,
added to those at St. Louis, had thrown him much behind his
original calculations, so that it would be impossible to effect
his voyage up the Missouri in the present year. This river,
flowing from high and cold latitudes, and through wide and open
plains, exposed to chilling blasts, freezes early. The winter may
be dated from the first of November; there was every prospect,
therefore, that it would be closed with ice long before Mr. Hunt
could reach its upper waters. To avoid, however, the expense of
wintering at St. Louis, he determined to push up the river as far
as possible, to some point above the settlements, where game was
plenty, and where his whole party could be subsisted by hunting,
until the breaking up of the ice in the spring should permit them
to resume their voyage.

Accordingly on the twenty-first of October he took his departure
from St. Louis. His party was distributed in three boats. One was
the barge which he had brought from Mackinaw; another was of a
larger size, such as was formerly used in navigating the Mohawk
River, and known by the generic name of the Schenectady barge;
the other was a large keel boat, at that time the grand
conveyance on the Mississippi.

In this way they set out from St. Louis, in buoyant spirits, and
soon arrived at the mouth of the Missouri. This vast river, three
thousand miles in length, and which, with its tributary streams,
drains such an immense extent of country, was as yet but casually
and imperfectly navigated by the adventurous bark of the fur
trader. A steamboat had never yet stemmed its turbulent current.
Sails were but of casual assistance, for it required a strong
wind to conquer the force of the stream. The main dependence was
on bodily strength and manual dexterity. The boats, in general,
had to be propelled by oars and setting poles, or drawn by the
hand and by grappling hooks from one root or overhanging tree to
another; or towed by the long cordelle, or towing line, where the
shores were sufficiently clear of woods and thickets to permit
the men to pass along the banks.

During this slow and tedious progress the boat would be exposed
to frequent danger from floating trees and great masses of drift-
wood, or to be impaled upon snags and sawyers; that is to say,
sunken trees, presenting a jagged or pointed end above the
surface of the water. As the channel of the river frequently
shifted from side to side according to the bends and sand-banks,
the boat had, in the same way, to advance in a zigzag course.
Often a part of the crew would have to leap into the water at the
shallows, and wade along with the towing line, while their
comrades on board toilfully assisted with oar and setting pole.
Sometimes the boat would seem to be retained motionless, as if
spell-bound, opposite some point round which the current set with
violence, and where the utmost labor scarce effected any visible
progress.

On these occasions it was that the merits of the Canadian
voyageurs came into full action. Patient of toil, not to be
disheartened by impediments and disappointments, fertile in
expedients, and versed in every mode of humoring and conquering
the wayward current, they would ply every exertion, sometimes in
the boat, sometimes on shore, sometimes in the water, however
cold; always alert, always in good humor; and, should they at any
time flag or grow weary, one of their popular songs, chanted by a
veteran oarsman, and responded to in chorus, acted as a never-
failing restorative.

By such assiduous and persevering labor they made their way about
four hundred and fifty miles up the Missouri, by the 16th of
November, to the mouth of the Nodowa. As this was a good hunting
country, and as the season was rapidly advancing, they determined
to establish their winter quarters at this place; and, in fact,
two days after they had come to a halt, the river closed just
above their encampment.

The party had not been long at this place when they were joined
by Mr. Robert M'Lellan, another trader of the Missouri; the same
who had been associated with Mr. Crooks in the unfortunate
expedition in which they had been intercepted by the Sioux
Indians, and obliged to make a rapid retreat down the river.

M'Lellan was a remarkable man. He had been a partisan under
General Wayne, in his Indian wars, where he had distinguished
himself by his fiery spirit and reckless daring, and marvelous
stories were told of his exploits. His appearance answered to his
character. His frame was meagre, but muscular; showing strength,
activity, and iron firmness. His eyes were dark, deep-set, and
piercing. He was restless, fearless, but of impetuous and
sometimes ungovernable temper. He had been invited by Mr. Hunt to
enroll himself as a partner, and gladly consented; being pleased
with the thoughts of passing with a powerful force through the
country of the Sioux, and perhaps having an opportunity of
revenging himself upon that lawless tribe for their past
offenses.

Another recruit that joined the camp at Nodowa deserves equal
mention. This was John Day, a hunter from the backwoods of
Virginia, who had been several years on the Missouri in the
service of Mr. Crooks, and of other traders. He was about forty
years of age, six feet two inches high, straight as an Indian;
with an elastic step as if he trod on springs, and a handsome,
open, manly countenance. It was his boast that, in his younger
days, nothing could hurt or daunt him; but he had "lived too
fast," and injured his constitution by his excesses. Still he was
strong of hand, bold of heart, a prime woodman, and an almost
unerring shot. He had the frank spirit of a Virginian, and the
rough heroism of a pioneer of the west.

The party were now brought to a halt for several months. They
were in a country abounding with deer and wild turkeys, so that
there was no stint of provisions, and every one appeared cheerful
and contented. Mr. Hunt determined to avail himself of this
interval to return to St. Louis and obtain a reinforcement.

He wished to procure an interpreter, acquainted with the language
of the Sioux, as, from all accounts, he apprehended difficulties
in passing through the country of that nation. He felt the
necessity, also, of having a greater number of hunters, not
merely to keep up a supply of provisions throughout their long
and arduous expedition, but also as a protection and defense, in
case of Indian hostilities. For such service the Canadian
voyageurs were little to be depended upon, fighting not being a
part of their profession. The proper kind of men were American
hunters, experienced in savage life and savage warfare, and
possessed of the true game spirit of the west.

Leaving, therefore, the encampment in charge of the other
partners, Mr. Hunt set off on foot on the first of January
(1810), for St. Louis. He was accompanied by eight men as far as
Fort Osage, about one hundred and fifty miles below Nodowa. Here
he procured a couple of horses, and proceeded on the remainder of
his journey with two men, sending the other six back to the
encampment. He arrived at St. Louis on the 20th of January.

                          CHAPTER XV.
                                
  Opposition of the Missouri Fur Company.-Blackfeet Indians.-
  Pierre Dorion, a Half-Breed Interpreter.- Old Dorion and His
Hybrid Progeny- Family Quarrels.- Cross Purposes Between Dorion
     and Lisa. - Renegadoes From Nodowa.- Perplexities of a
Commander.- Messrs. Bradbury and Nuttall Join the Expedition.-
   Legal Embarrassments of Pierre Dorion.- Departure From St.
Louis.- Conjugal Discipline of a Half-Breed.- Annual Swelling of
   the Rivers.-Daniel Boone, the Patriarch of Kentucky.-John
   Colter.-His Adventures Among the Indians.-Rumors of Danger
Ahead.-Fort Osage.-An Indian War-Feast.-Troubles in the Dorion
            Family.- Buffaloes and Turkey-Buzzards.

0N this his second visit to St. Louis, Mr. Hunt was again impeded
in his plans by the opposition of the Missouri Fur Company. The
affairs of that company were, at this time, in a very dubious
state. During the preceding year, their principal establishment
at the forks of the Missouri had been so much harassed by the
Blackfeet Indians, that its commander, Mr. Henry, one of the
partners, had been compelled to abandon the post and cross the
Rocky Mountains, with the intention of fixing himself upon one of
the upper branches of the Columbia. What had become of him and
his party was unknown. The most intense anxiety was felt
concerning them, and apprehensions that they might have been cut
off by the savages. At the time of Mr. Hunt's arrival at St.
Louis, the Missouri Company were fitting out an expedition to go
in quest of Mr. Henry. It was to be conducted by Mr. Manuel Lisa,
the partner already mentioned.

There being thus two expeditions on foot at the same moment, an
unusual demand was occasioned for hunters and voyageurs, who
accordingly profited by the circumstance, and stipulated for high
terms. Mr. Hunt found a keen and subtle competitor in Lisa, and
was obliged to secure his recruits by liberal advances of pay,
and by other pecuniary indulgences.

The greatest difficulty was to procure the Sioux interpreter.
There was but one man to be met with at St. Louis who was fitted
for the purpose, but to secure him would require much management.
The individual in question was a half-breed, named Pierre Dorion;
and, as he figures hereafter in this narrative, and is, withal, a
striking specimen of the hybrid race on the frontier, we shall
give a few particulars concerning him. Pierre was the son of
Dorion, the French interpreter, who accompanied Messrs. Lewis and
Clark in their famous exploring expedition across the Rocky
Mountains. Old Dorion was one of those French creoles,
descendants of the ancient Canadian stock, who abound on the
western frontier, and amalgamate or cohabit with the savages. He
had sojourned among various tribes, and perhaps left progeny
among them all; but his regular, or habitual wife, was a Sioux
squaw. By her he had a hopeful brood of half-breed sons, of whom
Pierre was one. The domestic affairs of old Dorion were conducted
on the true Indian plan. Father and sons would occasionally get
drunk together, and then the cabin was a scene of ruffian brawl
and fighting, in the course of which the old Frenchman was apt to
get soundly belabored by his mongrel offspring. In a furious
scuffle of the kind, one of the sons got the old man upon the
ground, and was upon the point of scalping him. "Hold! my son,"
cried the old fellow, in imploring accents, "you are too brave,
too honorable to scalp your father!" This last appeal touched the
French side of the half-breed's heart, so he suffered the old man
to wear his scalp unharmed.

Of this hopeful stock was Pierre Dorion, the man whom it was now
the desire of Mr. Hunt to engage as an interpreter. He had been
employed in that capacity by the Missouri Fur Company during the
preceding year, and conducted their traders in safety through the
different tribes of the Sioux. He had proved himself faithful and
serviceable while sober; but the love of liquor, in which he had
been nurtured and brought up, would occasionally break out, and
with it the savage side of his character.

It was his love of liquor which had embroiled him with the
Missouri Company. While in their service at Fort Mandan, on the
frontier, he had been seized with a whiskey mania; and, as the
beverage was only to be procured at the company's store, it had
been charged in his account at the rate of ten dollars a quart.
This item had ever remained unsettled, and a matter of furious
dispute, the mere mention of which was sufficient to put him in a
passion.

The moment it was discovered by Mr. Lisa that Pierre Dorion was
in treaty with the new and rival association, he endeavored, by
threats as well as promises, to prevent his engaging in their
service. His promises might, perhaps, have prevailed; but his
threats, which related to the whiskey debt, only served to drive
Pierre into the opposite ranks. Still he took advantage of this
competition for his services to stand out with Mr. Hunt on the
most advantageous terms, and, after a negotiation of nearly two
weeks, capitulated to serve in the expedition, as hunter and
interpreter, at the rate of three hundred dollars a year, two
hundred of which were to be paid in advance.

When Mr. Hunt had got everything ready for leaving St. Louis, new
difficulties arose. Five of the American hunters from the
encampment at Nodowa, suddenly made their appearance. They
alleged that they had been ill treated by the partners at the
encampment, and had come off clandestinely, in consequence of a
dispute. It was useless at the present moment, and under present
circumstances, to attempt any compulsory measures with these
deserters. Two of them Mr. Hunt prevailed upon, by mild means, to
return with him. The rest refused; nay, what was worse, they
spread such reports of the hardships and dangers to be
apprehended in the course of the expedition, that they struck a
panic into those hunters who had recently engaged at St. Louis,
and, when the hour of departure arrived, all but one refused to
embark. It was in vain to plead or remonstrate; they shouldered
their rifles and turned their backs upon the expedition, and Mr.
Hunt was fain to put off from shore with the single hunter and a
number of voyageurs whom he had engaged. Even Pierre Dorion, at
the last moment, refused to enter the boat until Mr. Hunt
consented to take his squaw and two children on board also. But
the tissue of perplexities, on account of this worthy individual,
did not end here.

Among the various persons who were about to proceed up the
Missouri with Mr. Hunt, were two scientific gentlemen; one Mr.
John Bradbury, a man of mature age, but great enterprise and
personal activity, who had been sent out by Linnaean Society of
Liverpool to make a collection of American plants; the other, a
Mr. Nuttall, likewise an Englishman, younger in years, who has
since made himself known as the author of Travels in Arkansas,
and a work on the Genera of American Plants. Mr. Hunt had offered
them the protection and facilities of his party, in their
scientific research up the Missouri River. As they were not ready
to depart at the moment of embarkation, they put their trunks on
board of the boat, but remained at St. Louis until the next day,
for the arrival of the post, intending to join the expedition at
St. Charles, a short distance above the mouth of the Missouri.

The same evening, however, they learned that a writ had been
issued against Pierre Dorion for his whiskey debt, by Mr. Lisa,
as agent of the Missouri Company, and that it was the intention
to entrap the mongrel linguist on his arrival at St. Charles.

Upon hearing this, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nuttall set off a little
after midnight, by land, got ahead of the boat as it was
ascending the Missouri, before its arrival at St. Charles, and
gave Pierre Dorion warning of the legal toil prepared to ensnare
him.

The knowing Pierre immediately landed and took to the woods,
followed by his squaw laden with their papooses, and a large
bundle containing their most precious effects, promising to
rejoin the party some distance above St. Charles. There seemed
little dependence to be placed upon the promises of a loose
adventurer of the kind, who was at the very time playing an
evasive game with his former employers; who had already received
two-thirds of his year's pay, and his rifle on his shoulder, his
family and worldly fortunes at his heels, and the wild woods
before him. There was no alternative, however, and it was hoped
his pique against his old employers would render him faithful to
his new ones.

The party reached St. Charles in the afternoon, but the harpies
of the law looked in vain for their expected prey. The boats
resumed their course on the following morning, and had not
proceeded far when Pierre Dorion made his appearance on the
shore. He was gladly taken on board, but he came without his
squaw. They had quarreled in the night; Pierre had administered
the Indian discipline of the cudgel, whereupon she had taken to
the woods, with their children and all their worldly goods.
Pierre evidently was deeply grieved and disconcerted at the loss
of his wife and his knapsack, whereupon Mr. Hunt despatched one
of the Canadian voyageurs in search of the fugitive; and the
whole party, after proceeding a few miles further, encamped on an
island to wait his return. The Canadian rejoined the party, but
without the squaw; and Pierre Dorion passed a solitary and
anxious night, bitterly regretting his indiscretion in having
exercised his conjugal authority so near home. Before daybreak,
however, a well-known voice reached his ears from the opposite
shore. It was his repentant spouse, who had been wandering the
woods all night in quest of the party, and had at length descried
it by its fires. A boat was despatched for her, the interesting
family was once more united, and Mr. Hunt now flattered himself
that his perplexities with Pierre Dorion were at an end.

Bad weather, very heavy rains, and an unusually early rise in the
Missouri, rendered the ascent of the river toilsome, slow, and
dangerous. The rise of the Missouri does not generally take place
until the month of May or June: the present swelling of the river
must have been caused by a freshet in some of its more southern
branches. It could not have been the great annual flood, as the
higher branches must still have been ice-bound.

And here we cannot but pause, to notice the admirable arrangement
of nature, by which the annual swellings of the various great
rivers which empty themselves into the Mississippi, have been
made to precede each other at considerable intervals. Thus, the
flood of the Red River precedes that of the Arkansas by a month.
The Arkansas, also, rising in a much more southern latitude than
the Missouri, takes the lead of it in its annual excess, and its
superabundant waters are disgorged and disposed of long before
the breaking up of the icy barriers of the north; otherwise, did
all these mighty streams rise simultaneously, and discharge their
vernal floods into the Mississippi, an inundation would be the
consequence, that would submerge and devastate all the lower
country.

On the afternoon of the third day, January, 17th, the boats
touched at Charette, one of the old villages founded by the
original French colonists. Here they met with Daniel Boone, the
renowned patriarch of Kentucky, who had kept in the advance of
civilization, and on the borders of the wilderness, still leading
a hunter's life, though now in his eighty-fifth year. He had but
recently returned from a hunting and trapping expedition, and had
brought nearly sixty beaver skins as trophies of his skill. The
old man was still erect in form, strong in limb, and unflinching
in spirit, and as he stood on the river bank, watching the
departure of an expedition destined to traverse the wilderness to
the very shores of the Pacific, very probably felt a throb of his
old pioneer spirit, impelling him to shoulder his rifle and join
the adventurous band. Boone flourished several years after this
meeting, in a vigorous old age, the Nestor of hunters and
backwoodsmen; and died, full of sylvan honor and renown, in 1818,
in his ninety-second year.

The next morning early, as the party were yet encamped at the
mouth of a small stream, they were visited by another of these
heroes of the wilderness, one John Colter, who had accompanied
Lewis and Clarke in their memorable expedition. He had recently
made one of those vast internal voyages so characteristic of this
fearless class of men, and of the immense regions over which they
hold their lonely wanderings; having come from the head waters of
the Missouri to St. Louis in a small canoe. This distance of
three thousand miles he had accomplished in thirty days. Colter
kept with the party all the morning. He had many particulars to
give them concerning the Blackfeet Indians, a restless and
predatory tribe, who had conceived an implacable hostility to the
white men, in consequence of one of their warriors having been
killed by Captain Lewis, while attempting to steal horses.
Through the country infested by these savages the expedition
would have to proceed, and Colter was urgent in reiterating the
precautions that ought to be observed respecting them. He had
himself experienced their vindictive cruelty, and his story
deserves particular citation, as showing the hairbreadth
adventures to which these solitary rovers of the wilderness are
exposed.

Colter, with the hardihood of a regular trapper, had cast himself
loose from the party of Lewis and Clarke in the very heart of the
wilderness, and had remained to trap beaver alone on the head
waters of the Missouri. Here he fell in with another lonely
trapper, like himself, named Potts, and they agreed to keep
together. They were in the very region of the terrible Blackfeet,
at that time thirsting to revenge the death of their companion,
and knew that they had to expect no mercy at their hands. They
were obliged to keep concealed all day in the woody margins of
the rivers, setting their traps after nightfall and taking them
up before daybreak. It was running a fearful risk for the sake of
a few beaver skins; but such is the life of the trapper.

They were on a branch of the Missouri called Jefferson Fork, and
had set their traps at night, about six miles up a small river
that emptied into the fork. Early in the morning they ascended
the river in a canoe, to examine the traps. The banks on each
side were high and perpendicular, and cast a shade over the
stream. As they were softly paddling along, they heard the
trampling of many feet upon the banks. Colter immediately gave
the alarm of "Indians!" and was for instant retreat. Potts
scoffed at him for being frightened by the trampling of a herd of
buffaloes. Colter checked his uneasiness and paddled forward.
They had not gone much further when frightful whoops and yells
burst forth from each side of the river, and several hundred
Indians appeared on either bank. Signs were made to the
unfortunate trappers to come on shore. They were obliged to
comply. Before they could get out of their canoe, a savage seized
the rifle belonging to Potts. Colter sprang on shore, wrestled
the weapon from the hands of the Indian, and restored it to his
companion, who was still in the canoe, and immediately pushed
into the stream. There was the sharp twang of a bow, and Potts
cried out that he was wounded. Colter urged him to come on shore
and submit, as his only chance for life; but the other knew there
was no prospect of mercy, and determined to die game. Leveling
his rifle, he shot one of the savages dead on the spot. The next
moment he fell himself, pierced with innumerable arrows.

The vengeance of the savages now turned upon Colter. He was
stripped naked, and, having some knowledge of the Blackfoot
language, overheard a consultation as to the mode of despatching
him, so as to derive the greatest amusement from his death. Some
were for setting him up as a mark, and having a trial of skill at
his expense. The chief, however, was for nobler sport. He seized
Colter by the shoulder, and demanded if he could run fast. The
unfortunate trapper was too well acquainted with Indian customs
not to comprehend the drift of the question. He knew he was to
run for his life, to furnish a kind of human hunt to his
persecutors. Though in reality he was noted among his brother
hunters for swiftness of foot, he assured the chief that he was a
very bad runner. His stratagem gained him some vantage ground. He
was led by the chief into the prairie, about four hundred yards
from the main body of savages, and then turned loose to save
himself if he could. A tremendous yell let him know that the
whole pack of bloodhounds were off in full cry. Colter flew
rather than ran; he was astonished at his own speed; but he had
six miles of prairie to traverse before he should reach the
Jefferson Fork of the Missouri; how could he hope to hold out
such a distance with the fearful odds of several hundred to one
against him! The plain, too, abounded with the prickly pear,
which wounded his naked feet. Still he fled on, dreading each
moment to hear the twang of a bow, and to feel an arrow quivering
at his heart. He did not even dare to look round, lest he should
lose an inch of that distance on which his life depended. He had
run nearly half way across the plain when the sound of pursuit
grew somewhat fainter, and he ventured to turn his head. The main
body of his pursuers were a considerable distance behind; several
of the fastest runners were scattered in the advance; while a
swift-footed warrior, armed with a spear, was not more than a
hundred yards behind him.

Inspired with new hope, Colter redoubled his exertions, but
strained himself to such a degree, that the blood gushed from his
mouth and nostrils, and streamed down his breast. He arrived
within a mile of the river. The sound of footsteps gathered upon
him. A glance behind showed his pursuer within twenty yards, and
preparing to launch his spear. Stopping short he turned round and
spread out his arms. The savage, confounded by this sudden
action, attempted to stop and hurl his spear, but fell in the
very act. His spear stuck in the ground, and the shaft broke in
his hand. Colter plucked up the pointed part, pinned the savage
to the earth, and continued his flight. The Indians, as they
arrived at their slaughtered companion, stopped to howl over him.
Colter made the most of this precious delay, gained the skirt of
cotton-wood bordering the river, dashed through it, and plunged
into the stream. He swam to a neighboring island, against the
upper end of which the driftwood had lodged in such quantities as
to form a natural raft; under this he dived, and swam below water
until he succeeded in getting a breathing place between the
floating trunks of trees, whose branches and bushes formed a
covert several feet above the level of the water. He had scarcely
drawn breath after all his toils, when he heard his pursuers on
the river bank, whooping and yelling like so many fiends. They
plunged in the river, and swam to the raft. The heart of Colter
almost died within him as he saw them, through the chinks of his
concealment, passing and repassing, and seeking for him in all
directions. They at length gave up the search, and he began to
rejoice in his escape, when the idea presented itself that they
might set the raft on fire. Here was a new source of horrible
apprehension, in which he remained until nightfall. Fortunately
the idea did not suggest itself to the Indians. As soon as it was
dark, finding by the silence around that his pursuers had
departed, Colter dived again and came up beyond the raft. He then
swam silently down the river for a considerable distance, when he
landed, and kept on all night, to get as far as possible from
this dangerous neighborhood.

By daybreak he had gained sufficient distance to relieve him from
the terrors of his savage foes; but now new sources of inquietude
presented themselves. He was naked and alone, in the midst of an
unbounded wilderness; his only chance was to reach a trading post
of the Missouri Company, situated on a branch of the Yellowstone
River. Even should he elude his pursuers, days must elapse before
he could reach this post, during which he must traverse immense
prairies destitute of shade, his naked body exposed to the
burning heat of the sun by day, and the dews and chills of the
night season, and his feet lacerated by the thorns of the prickly
pear. Though he might see game in abundance around him, he had no
means of killing any for his sustenance, and must depend for food
upon the roots of the earth. In defiance of these difficulties he
pushed resolutely forward, guiding himself in his trackless
course by those signs and indications known only to Indians and
backwoodsmen; and after braving dangers and hardships enough to
break down any spirit but that of a western pioneer, arrived safe
at the solitary post in question. * (* Bradbury, Travels in
America, p. 17.)

Such is a sample of the rugged experience which Colter had to
relate of savage life; yet, with all these perils and terrors
fresh in his recollection, he could not see the present band on
their way to those regions of danger and adventure, without
feeling a vehement impulse to join them. A western trapper is
like a sailor; past hazards only stimulate him to further risks.
The vast prairie is to the one what the ocean is to the other, a
boundless field of enterprise and exploit. However he may have
suffered in his last cruise, he is always ready to join a new
expedition; and the more adventurous its nature, the more
attractive is it to his vagrant spirit.

Nothing seems to have kept Colter from continuing with the party
to the shores of the Pacific but the circumstances of his having
recently married. All the morning he kept with them, balancing in
his mind the charms of his bride against those of the Rocky
Mountains; the former, however, prevailed, and after a march of
several miles, he took a reluctant leave of the travellers, and
turned his face homeward.

Continuing their progress up the Missouri, the party encamped on
the evening of the 21st of March, in the neighborhood of a little
frontier village of French creoles. Here Pierre Dorion met with
some of his old comrades, with whom he had a long gossip, and
returned to the camp with rumors of bloody feuds between the
Osages and the loways, or Ayaways, Potowatomies, Sioux, and
Sawkees. Blood had already been shed, and scalps been taken. A
war party, three hundred strong, were prowling in the
neighborhood; others might be met with higher up the river; it
behooved the travellers, therefore, to be upon their guard
against robbery or surprise, for an Indian war-party on the march
is prone to acts of outrage.

In consequence of this report, which was subsequently confirmed
by further intelligence, a guard was kept up at night round the
encampment, and they all slept on their arms. As they were
sixteen in number, and well supplied with weapons and ammunition,
they trusted to be able to give any marauding party a warm
reception. Nothing occurred, however, to molest them on their
voyage, and on the 8th of April they came in sight of Fort Osage.
On their approach the flag was hoisted on the fort, and they
saluted it by a discharge of fire-arms. Within a short distance
of the fort was an Osage village, the inhabitants of which, men,
women, and children, thronged down to the water side to witness
their landing. One of the first persons they met on the river
bank was Mr. Crooks, who had come down in a boat, with nine men,
from their winter encampment at Nodowa to meet them.

They remained at Fort Osage a part of three days, during which
they were hospitably entertained at the garrison by Lieutenant
Brownson, who held a temporary command. They were regaled also
with a war-feast at the village; the Osage warriors having
returned from a successful foray against the loways, in which
they had taken seven scalps. They were paraded on poles about the
village, followed by the warriors decked out in all their savage
ornaments, and hideously painted as if for battle.

By the Osage warriors, Mr. Hunt and his companions were again
warned to be on their guard in ascending the river, as the Sioux
tribe meant to lay in wait and attack them.

On the 10th of April they again embarked their party, being now
augmented to twenty-six, by the addition of Mr. Crooks and his
boat's crew. They had not proceeded far, however, when there was
a great outcry from one of the boats; it was occasioned by a
little domestic discipline in the Dorion family. The squaw of the
worthy interpreter, it appeared, had been so delighted with the
scalp-dance, and other festivities of the Osage village, that she
had taken a strong inclination to remain there. This had been as
strongly opposed by her liege lord, who had compelled her to
embark. The good dame had remained sulky ever since, whereupon
Pierre, seeing no other mode of exorcising the evil spirit out of
her, and being, perhaps, a little inspired by whiskey, had
resorted to the Indian remedy of the cudgel, and before his
neighbors could interfere, had belabored her so soundly, that
there is no record of her having shown any refractory symptoms
throughout the remainder of the expedition.

For a week they continued their voyage, exposed to almost
incessant rains. The bodies of drowned buffaloes floated past
them in vast numbers; many had drifted upon the shore, or against
the upper ends of the rafts and islands. These had attracted
great flights of turkey-buzzards; some were banqueting on the
carcasses, others were soaring far aloft in the sky, and others
were perched on the trees, with their backs to the sun, and their
wings stretched out to dry, like so many vessels in harbor,
spreading their sails after a shower.

The turkey-buzzard (vultur aura, or golden vulture), when on the
wing, is one of the most specious and imposing of birds. Its
flight in the upper regions of the air is really sublime,
extending its immense wings, and wheeling slowly and majestically
to and fro, seemingly without exerting a muscle or fluttering a
feather, but moving by mere volition, and sailing on the bosom of
the air, as a ship upon the ocean. Usurping the empyreal realm of
the eagle, he assumes for a time the port and dignity of that
majestic bird, and often is mistaken for him by ignorant crawlers
upon the earth. It is only when he descends from the clouds to
pounce upon carrion that he betrays his low propensities, and
reveals his caitiff character. Near at hand he is a disgusting
bird, ragged in plumage, base in aspect, and of loathsome odor.

On the 17th of April Mr. Hunt arrived with his party at the
station near the Nodowa River, where the main body had been
quartered during the winter.

                          CHAPTER XVI.
                                
Return of Spring.- Appearance of Snakes.- Great Flights of Wild
  Pigeons.- Renewal of the Voyage.- Night Encampments.- Platte
    River. - Ceremonials on Passing It.- Signs of Indian War
Parties.- Magnificent Prospect at Papillion Creek.- Desertion of
Two Hunters.An Irruption Into the Camp of Indian Desperadoes.-
Village of the Omahas.-A necdotes of the Tribe.- Feudal Wars of
    the Indians.-Story of Blackbird, the Famous Omaha Chief.

THE weather continued rainy and ungenial for some days after Mr.
Hunt's return to Nodowa; yet spring was rapidly advancing and
vegetation was putting forth with all its early freshness and
beauty. The snakes began to recover from their torpor and crawl
forth into day; and the neighborhood of the wintering house seems
to have been much infested with them. Mr. Bradbury, in the course
of his botanical researches, found a surprising number in a half
torpid state, under flat stones upon the banks which overhung the
cantonment, and narrowly escaped being struck by a rattlesnake,
which darted at him from a cleft in the rock, but fortunately
gave him warning by his rattle.

The pigeons, too, were filling the woods in vast migratory
flocks. It is almost incredible to describe the prodigious
flights of these birds in the western wildernesses. They appear
absolutely in clouds, and move with astonishing velocity, their
wings making a whistling sound as they fly. The rapid evolutions
of these flocks wheeling and shifting suddenly as if with one
mind and one impulse; the flashing changes of color they present,
as their backs' their breasts, or the under part of their wings
are turned to the spectator, are singularly pleasing. When they
alight, if on the ground, they cover whole acres at a time; if
upon trees, the branches often break beneath their weight. If
suddenly startled while feeding in the midst of a forest, the
noise they make in getting on the wing is like the roar of a
cataract or the sound of distant thunder.

A flight of this kind, like an Egyptian flight of locusts,
devours everything that serves for its food as it passes along.
So great were the numbers in the vicinity of the camp that Mr.
Bradbury, in the course of a morning's excursion, shot nearly
three hundred with a fowling-piece. He gives a curious, though
apparently a faithful, account of the kind of discipline observed
in these immense flocks, so that each may have a chance of
picking up food. As the front ranks must meet with the greatest
abundance, and the rear ranks must have scanty pickings, the
instant a rank finds itself the hindmost, it rises in the air,
flies over the whole flock and takes its place in the advance.
The next rank follows in its course, and thus the last is
continually becoming first and all by turns have a front place at
the banquet.

The rains having at length subsided, Mr. Hunt broke up the
encampment and resumed his course up the Missouri.

The party now consisted of nearly sixty persons, of whom five
were partners, one, John Reed, was a clerk; forty were Canadian
"voyageurs," or "engages," and there were several hunters. They
embarked in four boats, one of which was of a large size,
mounting a swivel, and two howitzers. All were furnished with
masts and sails, to be used when the wind was sufficiently
favorable and strong to overpower the current of the river. Such
was the case for the first four or five days, when they were
wafted steadily up the stream by a strong southeaster.

Their encampments at night were often pleasant and picturesque:
on some beautiful bank, beneath spreading trees, which afforded
them shelter and fuel. The tents were pitched, the fires made,
and the meals prepared by the voyageurs, and many a story was
told, and joke passed, and song sung round the evening fire. All,
however, were asleep at an early hour. Some under the tents,
others wrapped in blankets before the fire, or beneath the trees;
and some few in the boats and canoes.

On the 28th, they breakfasted on one of the islands which lie at
the mouth of the Nebraska or Platte River - the largest tributary
of the Missouri, and about six hundred miles above its confluence
with the Mississippi. This broad but shallow stream flows for an
immense distance through a wide and verdant valley scooped out of
boundless prairies. It draws its main supplies, by several forks
or branches, from the Rocky Mountains. The mouth of this river is
established as the dividing point between the upper and lower
Missouri; and the earlier voyagers, in their toilsome ascent,
before the introduction of steamboats, considered one-half of
their labors accomplished when they reached this place. The
passing of the mouth of the Nebraska, therefore, was equivalent
among boatmen to the crossing of the line among sailors, and was
celebrated with like ceremonials of a rough and waggish nature,
practiced upon the uninitiated; among which was the old nautical
joke of shaving. The river deities, however, like those of the
sea, were to be propitiated by a bribe, and the infliction of
these rude honors to be parried by a treat to the adepts.

At the mouth of the Nebraska new signs were met with of war
parties which had recently been in the vicinity. There was the
frame of a skin canoe, in which the warriors had traversed the
river. At night, also, the lurid reflection of immense fires hung
in the sky, showing the conflagration of great tracts of the
prairies. Such fires not being made by hunters so late in the
season, it was supposed they were caused by some wandering war
parties. These often take the precaution to set the prairies on
fire behind them to conceal their traces from their enemies. This
is chiefly done when the party has been unsuccessful, and is on
the retreat and apprehensive of pursuit. At such time it is not
safe even for friends to fall in with them, as they are apt to be
in savage humor, and disposed to vent their spleen in capricious
outrage. These signs, therefore, of a band of marauders on the
prowl, called for some degree of vigilance on the part of the
travellers.

After passing the Nebraska, the party halted for part of two days
on the bank of the river, a little above Papillion Creek, to
supply themselves with a stock of oars and poles from the tough
wood of the ash, which is not met with higher up the Missouri.
While the voyagers were thus occupied, the naturalists rambled
over the adjacent country to collect plants. From the summit of a
range of bluffs on the opposite side of the river, about two
hundred and fifty feet high, they had one of those vast and
magnificent prospects which sometimes unfold themselves in those
boundless regions. Below them was the Valley of the Missouri,
about seven miles in breadth, clad in the fresh verdure of
spring; enameled with flowers and interspersed with clumps and
groves of noble trees, between which the mighty river poured its
turbulent and turbid stream. The interior of the country
presented a singular scene; the immense waste being broken up by
innumerable green hills, not above eight feet in height, but
extremely steep, and actually pointed at their summits. A long
line of bluffs extended for upwards of thirty miles parallel to
the Missouri, with a shallow lake stretching along their base,
which had evidently once formed a bed of the river. The surface
of this lake was covered with aquatic plants, on the broad leaves
of which numbers of water-snakes, drawn forth by the genial
warmth of spring, were basking in the sunshine.

On the 2d day of May, at the usual hour of embarking, the camp
was thrown into some confusion by two of the hunters, named
Harrington, expressing their intention to abandon the expedition
and return home. One of these had joined the party in the
preceding autumn, having been hunting for two years on the
Missouri; the other had engaged at St. Louis, in the following
March, and had come up from thence with Mr. Hunt. He now declared
that he had enlisted merely for the purpose of following his
brother, and persuading him to return; having been enjoined to do
so by his mother, whose anxiety had been awakened by the idea of
his going on such a wild and distant expedition.

The loss of two stark hunters and prime riflemen was a serious
affair to the party, for they were approaching the region where
they might expect hostilities from the Sioux; indeed, throughout
the whole of their perilous journey, the services of such men
would be all important, for little reliance was to be placed upon
the valor of the Canadians in case of attack. Mr. Hunt endeavored
by arguments, expostulations, and entreaties, to shake the
determination of the two brothers. He represented to them that
they were between six and seven hundred miles above the mouth of
the Missouri; that they would have four hundred miles to go
before they could reach the habitation of a white man, throughout
which they would be exposed to all kinds of risks; since, he
declared, if they persisted in abandoning him and breaking their
faith, he would not furnish them with a single round of
ammunition. All was in vain; they obstinately persisted in their
resolution; whereupon, Mr. Hunt, partly incited by indignation,
partly by the policy of deterring others from desertion, put his
threat into execution, and left them to find their way back to
the settlements without, as he supposed, a single bullet or
charge of powder.

The boats now continued their slow and toilsome course for
several days, against the current of the river. The late signs of
roaming war parties caused a vigilant watch to be kept up at
night when the crews encamped on shore; nor was this vigilance
superfluous; for on the night of the seventh instant, there was a
wild and fearful yell, and eleven Sioux warriors, stark naked,
with tomahawks in their hands, rushed into the camp. They were
instantly surrounded and seized, whereupon their leader called
out to his followers to desist from any violence, and pretended
to be perfectly pacific in his intentions. It proved, however,
that they were a part of the war party, the skeleton of whose
canoe had been seen at the mouth of the river Platte, and the
reflection of whose fires had been descried in the air. They had
been disappointed or defeated in the foray, and in their rage and
mortification these eleven warriors had "devoted their clothes to
the medicine." This is a desperate act of Indian braves when
foiled in war, and in dread of scoffs and sneers. In such case
they sometimes threw off their clothes and ornaments, devote
themselves to the Great Spirit, and attempt some reckless exploit
with which to cover their disgrace. Woe to any defenseless party
of white men that may then fall in their way!

Such was the explanation given by Pierre Dorion, the half-breed
interpreter, of this wild intrusion into the camp; and the party
were so exasperated when appraised of the sanguinary intentions
of the prisoners, that they were for shooting them on the spot.
Mr. Hunt, however, exerted his usual moderation and humanity, and
ordered that they should be conveyed across the river in one of
the boats, threatening them however, with certain death if again
caught in any hostile act.

On the 10th of May the party arrived at the Omaha (pronounced
Omawhaw) village, about eight hundred and thirty miles above the
mouth of the Missouri, and encamped in its neighborhood. The
village was situated under a hill on the bank of the river, and
consisted of about eighty lodges. These were of a circular and
conical form, and about sixteen feet in diameter; being mere
tents of dressed buffalo skins, sewed together and stretched on
long poles, inclined towards each other so as to cross at about
half their height. Thus the naked tops of the poles diverge in
such a manner that, if they were covered with skins like the
lower ends, the tent would be shaped like an hour-glass, and
present the appearance of one cone inverted on the apex of
another.

The forms of Indian lodges are worthy of attention, each tribe
having a different mode of shaping and arranging them, so that it
is easy to tell, on seeing a lodge or an encampment at a
distance, to what tribe the inhabitants belong. The exterior of
the Omaha lodges have often a gay and fanciful appearance, being
painted with undulating bands of red or yellow, or decorated with
rude figures of horses, deer, and buffaloes, and with human
faces, painted like full moons, four and five feet broad.

The Omahas were once one of the numerous and powerful tribes of
the prairies, vying in warlike might and prowess with the Sioux,
the Pawnees, the Sauks, the Konsas, and the Iatans. Their wars
with the Sioux, however, had thinned their ranks, and the small-
pox in 1802 had swept off two thirds of their number. At the time
of Mr. Hunt's visit they still boasted about two hundred warriors
and hunters, but they are now fast melting away, and before long,
will be numbered among those extinguished nations of the west
that exist but in tradition.

In his correspondence with Mr. Astor, from this point of his
journey, Mr. Hunt gives a sad account of the Indian tribes
bordering on the river. They were in continual war with each
other, and their wars were of the most harassing kind;
consisting, not merely of main conflicts and expeditions of
moment, involving the sackings, burnings, and massacres of towns
and villages, but of individual acts of treachery, murder, and
cold-blooded cruelty; or of vaunting and foolhardy exploits of
single warriors, either to avenge some personal wrong, or gain
the vainglorious trophy of a scalp. The lonely hunter, the
wandering wayfarer, the poor squaw cutting wood or gathering
corn, was liable to be surprised and slaughtered. In this way
tribes were either swept away at once, or gradually thinned out,
and savage life was surrounded with constant horrors and alarms.
That the race of red men should diminish from year to year, and
so few should survive of the numerous nations which evidently
once peopled the vast regions of the west, is nothing surprising;
it is rather matter of surprise that so many should survive; for
the existence of a savage in these parts seems little better than
a prolonged and all-besetting death. It is, in fact, a caricature
of the boasted romance of feudal times; chivalry in its native
and uncultured state, and knight-errantry run wild.

In their most prosperous days, the Omahas looked upon themselves
as the most powerful and perfect of human beings, and considered
all created things as made for their peculiar use and benefit. It
is this tribe of whose chief, the famous Wash-ing-guhsah-ba, or
Blackbird, such savage and romantic stories are told. He had died
about ten years previous to the arrival of Mr. Hunt's party, but
his name was still mentioned with awe by his people. He was one
of the first among the Indian chiefs on the Missouri to deal with
the white traders, and showed great sagacity in levying his royal
dues. When a trader arrived in his village, he caused all his
goods to be brought into his lodge and opened. From these he
selected whatever suited his sovereign pleasure; blankets,
tobacco, whiskey, powder, ball, beads, and red paint; and laid
the articles on one side, without deigning to give any
compensation. Then calling to him his herald or crier, he would
order him to mount on top of the lodge and summon all the tribe
to bring in their peltries, and trade with the white man. The
lodge would soon be crowded with Indians bringing bear, beaver,
otter, and other skins. No one was allowed to dispute the prices
fixed by the white trader upon his articles; who took care to
indemnify himself five times over for the goods set apart by the
chief. In this way the Blackbird enriched himself, and enriched
the white men, and became exceedingly popular among the traders
of the Missouri. His people, however, were not equally satisfied
by a regulation of trade which worked so manifestly against them,
and began to show signs of discontent. Upon this a crafty and
unprincipled trader revealed a secret to the Blackbird, by which
he might acquire unbounded sway over his ignorant and
superstitious subjects. He instructed him in the poisonous
qualities of arsenic, and furnished him with an ample supply of
that baneful drug. From this time the Blackbird seemed endowed
with supernatural powers, to possess the gift of prophecy, and to
hold the disposal of life and death within his hands. Woe to any
one who questioned his authority or dared to dispute his
commands! The Blackbird prophesied his death within a certain
time, and he had the secret means of verifying his prophecy.
Within the fated period the offender was smitten with strange and
sudden disease, and perished from the face of the earth. Every
one stood aghast at these multiplied examples of his superhuman
might, and dreaded to displease so omnipotent and vindictive a
being; and the Blackbird enjoyed a wide and undisputed sway.

It was not, however, by terror alone that he ruled his people; he
was a warrior of the first order, and his exploits in arms were
the theme of young and old. His career had begun by hardships,
having been taken prisoner by the Sioux, in early youth. Under
his command, the Omahas obtained great character for military
prowess, nor did he permit an insult or an injury to one of his
tribe to pass unrevenged. The Pawnee republicans had inflicted a
gross indignity on a favorite and distinguished Omaha brave. The
Blackbird assembled his warriors, led them against the Pawnee
town, attacked it with irresistible fury, slaughtered a great
number of its inhabitants, and burnt it to the ground. He waged
fierce and bloody war against the Ottoes for many years, until
peace was effected between them by the mediation of the whites.
Fearless in battle, and fond of signalizing himself, he dazzled
his followers by daring acts. In attacking a Kanza village, he
rode singly round it, loading and discharging his rifle at the
inhabitants as he galloped past them. He kept up in war the same
idea of mysterious and supernatural power. At one time, when
pursuing a war party by their tracks across the prairies, he
repeatedly discharged his rifle into the prints made by their
feet and by the hoofs of their horses, assuring his followers
that he would thereby cripple the fugitives, so that they would
easily be overtaken. He in fact did overtake them, and destroyed
them almost to a man; and his victory was considered miraculous,
both by friends and foe. By these and similar exploits, he made
himself the pride and boast of his people, and became popular
among them, notwithstanding his death-denouncing fiat.

With all his savage and terrific qualities, he was sensible of
the power of female beauty, and capable of love. A war party of
the Poncas had made a foray into the lands of the Omahas, and
carried off a number of women and horses. The Blackbird was
roused to fury, and took the field with all his braves, swearing
to "eat up the Ponca nation"- the Indian threat of exterminating
war. The Poncas, sorely pressed, took refuge behind a rude
bulwark of earth; but the Blackbird kept up so galling a fire,
that he seemed likely to execute his menace. In their extremity
they sent forth a herald, bearing the calumet or pipe of peace,
but he was shot down by order of the Blackbird. Another herald
was sent forth in similar guise, but he shared a like fate. The
Ponca chief then, as a last hope, arrayed his beautiful daughter
in her finest ornaments, and sent her forth with a calumet, to
sue for peace. The charms of the Indian maid touched the stern
heart of the Blackbird; he accepted the pipe at her hand, smoked
it, and from that time a peace took place between the Poncas and
the Omahas.

This beautiful damsel, in all probability, was the favorite wife
whose fate makes so tragic an incident in the story of the
Blackbird. Her youth and beauty had gained an absolute sway over
his rugged heart, so that he distinguished her above all of his
other wives. The habitual gratification of his vindictive
impulses, however, had taken away from him all mastery over his
passions, and rendered him liable to the most furious transports
of rage. In one of these his beautiful wife had the misfortune to
offend him, when suddenly drawing his knife, he laid her dead at
his feet with a single blow.

In an instant his frenzy was at an end. He gazed for a time in
mute bewilderment upon his victim; then drawing his buffalo robe
over his head, he sat down beside the corpse, and remained
brooding over his crime and his loss. Three days elapsed, yet the
chief continued silent and motionless; tasting no food, and
apparently sleepless. It was apprehended that he intended to
starve himself to death; his people approached him in trembling
awe, and entreated him once more to uncover his face and be
comforted; but he remained unmoved. At length one of his warriors
brought in a small child, and laying it on the ground, placed the
foot of the Blackbird upon its neck. The heart of the gloomy
savage was touched by this appeal; he threw aside his robe; made
an harangue upon what he had done; and from that time forward
seemed to have thrown the load of grief and remorse from his
mind.

He still retained his fatal and mysterious secret, and with it
his terrific power; but, though able to deal death to his
enemies, he could not avert it from himself or his friends. In
1802 the small-pox, that dreadful pestilence, which swept over
the land like a fire over the prairie, made its appearance in the
village of the Omahas. The poor savages saw with dismay the
ravages of a malady, loathsome and agonizing in its details, and
which set the skill and experience of their conjurors and
medicine men at defiance. In a little while, two thirds of the
population were swept from the face of the earth, and the doom of
the rest seemed sealed. The stoicism of the warriors was at an
end; they became wild and desperate; some set fire to the village
as a last means of checking the pestilence; others, in a frenzy
of despair, put their wives and children to death, that they
might be spared the agonies of an inevitable disease, and that
they might all go to some better country.

When the general horror and dismay was at its height, the
Blackbird himself was struck down with the malady. The poor
savages, when they saw their chief in danger, forgot their own
miseries, and surrounded his dying bed. His dominant spirit, and
his love for the white men, were evinced in his latest breath,
with which he designated his place of sepulture. It was to be on
a hill or promontory, upwards of four hundred feet in height,
overlooking a great extent of the Missouri, from whence he had
been accustomed to watch for the barks of the white men. The
Missouri washes the base of the promontory, and after winding and
doubling in many links and mazes in the plain below, returns to
within nine hundred yards of its starting-place; so that for
thirty miles navigating with sail and oar the voyager finds
himself continually near to this singular promontory as if spell-
bound.

It was the dying command of the Blackbird that his tomb should be
on the summit of this hill, in which he should be interred,
seated on his favorite horse, that he might overlook his ancient
domain, and behold the barks of the white men as they came up the
river to trade with his people.

His dying orders were faithfully obeyed. His corpse was placed
astride of his war-steed and a mound raised over them on the
summit of the hill. On top of the mound was erected a staff, from
which fluttered the banner of the chieftain, and the scalps that
he had taken in battle. When the expedition under Mr. Hunt
visited that part of the country, the staff still remained, with
the fragments of the banner; and the superstitious rite of
placing food from time to time on the mound, for the use of the
deceased, was still observed by the Omahas. That rite has since
fallen into disuse, for the tribe itself is almost extinct. Yet
the hill of the Blackbird continues an object of veneration to
the wandering savage, and a landmark to the voyager of the
Missouri; and as the civilized traveller comes within sight of
its spell-bound crest, the mound is pointed out to him from afar,
which still incloses the grim skeletons of the Indian warrior and
his horse.

                         CHAPTER XVII.
                                
Rumors of Danger From the Sioux Tetons.- Ruthless Character of
  Those Savages.- Pirates of the Missouri.- Their Affair with
Crooks and M'Lellan.- A Trading Expedition Broken Up.- M'Lellan's
    Vow of Vengeance.- Uneasiness in the Camp.- Desertions.-
Departure From the Omaha Village.- Meeting With Jones and Carson,
   two Adventurous Trappers.- Scientific Pursuits of Messrs.
Bradbury and Nuttall. - Zeal of a Botanist.- Adventure of Mr.
Bradbury with a Ponca Indian. -Expedient of the Pocket Compass
and Microscope.- A Messenger From Lisa.- Motives for Pressing
                            Forward.

WHILE Mr. Hunt and his party were sojourning at the village of
the Omahas, three Sioux Indians of the Yankton Alma tribe
arrived, bringing unpleasant intelligence. They reported that
certain bands of the Sioux Tetons, who inhabited a region many
leagues further up the Missouri, were near at hand, awaiting the
approach of the party, with the avowed intention of opposing
their progress.

The Sioux Tetons were at that time a sort of pirates of the
Missouri, who considered the well freighted bark of the American
trader fair game. They had their own traffic with the British
merchants of the Northwest, who brought them regular supplies of
merchandise by way of the river St. Peter. Being thus independent
of the Missouri traders for their supplies, they kept no terms
with them, but plundered them whenever they had an opportunity.
It has been insinuated that they were prompted to these outrages
by the British merchants, who wished to keep off all rivals in
the Indian trade; but others allege another motive, and one
savoring of a deeper policy. The Sioux, by their intercourse with
the British traders, had acquired the use of firearms, which had
given them vast superiority over other tribes higher up the
Missouri. They had made themselves also, in a manner, factors for
the upper tribes, supplying them at second hand, and at greatly
advanced prices, with goods derived from the white men. The
Sioux, therefore, saw with jealousy the American traders pushing
their way up the Missouri; foreseeing that the upper tribes would
thus be relieved from all dependence on them for supplies; nay,
what was worse, would be furnished with fire-arms, and elevated
into formidable rivals.

We have already alluded to a case in which Mr. Crooks and Mr.
M'Lellan had been interrupted in a trading voyage by these
ruffians of the river, and, as it is in some degree connected
with circumstances hereafter to be related, we shall specify it
more particularly.

About two years before the time of which we are treating, Crooks
and M'Lellan were ascending the river in boats with a party of
about forty men, bound on one of their trading expeditions to the
upper tribes. In one of the bends of the river, where the channel
made a deep curve under impending banks, they suddenly heard
yells and shouts above them, and beheld the cliffs overhead
covered with armed savages. It was a band of Sioux warriors,
upwards of six hundred strong. They brandished their weapons in a
menacing manner, and ordered the boats to turn back and land
lower down the river. There was no disputing these commands, for
they had the power to shower destruction upon the white men,
without risk to themselves. Crooks and M'Lellan, therefore,
turned back with feigned alacrity, and, landing, had an interview
with the Sioux. The latter forbade them, under pain of
exterminating hostility, from attempting to proceed up the river,
but offered to trade peacefully with them if they would halt
where they were. The party, being principally composed of
voyageurs, was too weak to contend with so superior a force, and
one so easily augmented; they pretended, therefore, to comply
cheerfully with their arbitrary dictation, and immediately
proceeded to cut down trees and erect a trading house. The
warrior band departed for their village, which was about twenty
miles distant, to collect objects of traffic; they left six or
eight of their number, however, to keep watch upon the white men,
and scouts were continually passing to and fro with intelligence.

Mr. Crooks saw that it would be impossible to prosecute his
voyage without the danger of having his boats plundered, and a
great part of his men massacred; he determined, however, not to
be entirely frustrated in the objects of his expedition. While he
continued, therefore, with great apparent earnestness and
assiduity, the construction of the trading house, he despatched
the hunters and trappers of his party in a canoe, to make their
way up the river to the original place of destination, there to
busy themselves in trapping and collecting peltries, and to await
his arrival at some future period.

As soon as the detachment had had sufficient time to ascend
beyond the hostile country of the Sioux, Mr. Crooks suddenly
broke up his feigned trading establishment, embarked his men and
effects, and, after giving the astonished rear-guard of savages a
galling and indignant message to take to their countrymen, pushed
down the river with all speed, sparing neither oar nor paddle,
day nor night, until fairly beyond the swoop of these river
hawks.

What increased the irritation of Messrs. Crooks and M'Lellan, at
this mortifying check to their gainful enterprise, was the
information that a rival trader was at the bottom of it; the
Sioux, it is said, having been instigated to this outrage by Mr.
Manuel Lisa, the leading partner and agent of the Missouri Fur
Company, already mentioned. This intelligence, whether true or
false, so roused the fiery temper of M'Lellan, that he swore, if
ever he fell in with Lisa in the Indian country, he would shoot
him on the spot; a mode of redress perfectly in unison with the
character of the man, and the code of honor prevalent beyond the
frontier.

If Crooks and M'Lellan had been exasperated by the insolent
conduct of the Sioux Tetons, and the loss which it had
occasioned, those freebooters had been no less indignant at being
outwitted by the white men, and disappointed of their anticipated
gains, and it was apprehended they would be particularly hostile
against the present expedition, when they should learn that these
gentlemen were engaged in it.

All these causes of uneasiness were concealed as much as possible
from the Canadian voyageurs, lest they should become intimidated;
it was impossible, however, to prevent the rumors brought by the
Indians from leaking out, and they became subjects of gossiping
and exaggeration. The chief of the Omahas, too, on returning from
a hunting excursion, reported that two men had been killed some
distance above, by a band of Sioux. This added to the fears that
already began to be excited. The voyageurs pictured to themselves
bands of fierce warriors stationed along each bank of the river,
by whom they would be exposed to be shot down in their boats: or
lurking hordes, who would set on them at night, and massacre them
in their encampments. Some lost heart, and proposed to return,
rather than fight their way, and, in a manner, run the gauntlet
through the country of these piratical marauders. In fact, three
men deserted while at this village. Luckily, their place was
supplied by three others who happened to be there, and who were
prevailed on to join the expedition by promises of liberal pay,
and by being fitted out and equipped in complete style.

The irresolution and discontent visible among some of his people,
arising at times almost to mutiny, and the occasional desertions
which took place while thus among friendly tribes, and within
reach of the frontiers, added greatly to the anxieties of Mr.
Hunt, and rendered him eager to press forward and leave a hostile
tract behind him, so that it would be as perilous to return as to
keep on, and no one would dare to desert.

Accordingly, on the 15th of May he departed from the village of
the Omahas, and set forward towards the country of the formidable
Sioux Tetons. For the first five days they had a fair and fresh
breeze, and the boats made good progress. The wind then came
ahead, and the river beginning to rise, and to increase in
rapidity, betokened the commencement of the annual flood, caused
by the melting of the snow on the Rocky Mountains, and the vernal
rains of the upper prairies.

As they were now entering a region where foes might be lying in
wait on either bank, it was determined, in hunting for game, to
confine themselves principally to the islands, which sometimes
extend to considerable length, and are beautifully wooded,
affording abundant pasturage and shade. On one of these they
killed three buffaloes and two elks, and halting on the edge of a
beautiful prairie, made a sumptuous hunter's repast. They had not
long resumed their boats and pulled along the river banks when
they descried a canoe approaching, navigated by two men, whom, to
their surprise, they ascertained to be white men. They proved to
be two of those strange and fearless wanderers of the wilderness,
the trappers. Their names were Benjamin Jones and Alexander
Carson. They had been for two years past hunting and trapping
near the head of the Missouri, and were thus floating for
thousands of miles in a cockle-shell, down a turbulent stream,
through regions infested by savage tribes, yet apparently as easy
and unconcerned as if navigating securely in the midst of
civilization.

The acquisition of two such hardy, experienced, and dauntless
hunters was peculiarly desirable at the present moment. They
needed but little persuasion. The wilderness is the home of the
trapper; like the sailor, he cares but little to which point of
the compass he steers; and Jones and Carson readily abandoned
their voyage to St. Louis, and turned their faces towards the
Rocky Mountains and the Pacific.

The two naturalists, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nuttall, who had
joined the expedition at St. Louis, still accompanied it, and
pursued their researches on all occasions. Mr. Nuttall seems to
have been exclusively devoted to his scientific pursuits. He was
a zealous botanist, and all his enthusiasm was awakened at
beholding a new world, as it were, opening upon him in the
boundless prairies, clad in the vernal and variegated robe of
unknown flowers. Whenever the boats landed at meal times, or for
any temporary purpose, he would spring on shore, and set out on a
hunt for new specimens. Every plant or flower of a rare or
unknown species was eagerly seized as a prize. Delighted with the
treasures spreading themselves out before him, he went groping
and stumbling along among the wilderness of sweets, forgetful of
everything but his immediate pursuit, and had often to be sought
after when the boats were about to resume their course. At such
times he would be found far off in the prairies, or up the course
of some petty stream, laden with plants of all kinds.

The Canadian voyageurs, who are a class of people that know
nothing out of their immediate line, and with constitutional
levity make a jest of anything they cannot understand, were
extremely puzzled by this passion for collecting what they
considered mere useless weeds. When they saw the worthy botanist
coming back heavy laden with his specimens, and treasuring them
up as carefully as a miser would his hoard, they used to make
merry among themselves at his expense, regarding him as some
whimsical kind of madman.

Mr. Bradbury was less exclusive in his tastes and habits, and
combined the hunter and sportsman with the naturalist. He took
his rifle or his fowling-piece with him in his geological
researches, conformed to the hardy and rugged habits of the men
around him, and of course gained favor in their eyes. He had a
strong relish for incident and adventure, was curious in
observing savage manners, and savage life, and ready to join any
hunting or other excursion. Even now, that the expedition was
proceeding through a dangerous neighborhood, he could not check
his propensity to ramble. Having observed, on the evening of the
22d of May, that the river ahead made a great bend which would
take up the navigation of the following day, he determined to
profit by the circumstance. On the morning of the 23d, therefore,
instead of embarking, he filled his shot-pouch with parched corn,
for provisions, and set off to cross the neck on foot and meet
the boats in the afternoon at the opposite side of the bend. Mr.
Hunt felt uneasy at his venturing thus alone, and reminded him
that he was in an enemy's country; but Mr. Bradbury made light of
the danger, and started off cheerily upon his ramble. His day was
passed pleasantly in traversing a beautiful tract, making
botanical and geological researches, and observing the habits of
an extensive village of prairie dogs, at which he made several
ineffectual shots, without considering the risk he ran of
attracting the attention of any savages that might be lurking in
the neighborhood. In fact he had totally forgotten the Sioux
Tetons, and all the other perils of the country, when, about the
middle of the afternoon, as he stood near the river bank, and was
looking out for the boat, he suddenly felt a hand laid on his
shoulder. Starting and turning round, he beheld a naked savage
with a bow bent, and the arrow pointed at his breast. In an
instant his gun was leveled and his hand upon the lock. The
Indian drew his bow still further, but forbore to launch the
shaft. Mr. Bradbury, with admirable presence of mind, reflected
that the savage, if hostile in his intents, would have shot him
without giving him a chance of defense; he paused, therefore, and
held out his hand. The other took it in sign of friendship, and
demanded in the Osage language whether he was a Big Knife, or
American. He answered in the affirmative, and inquired whether
the other were a Sioux. To his great relief he found that he was
a Ponca. By his time two other Indians came running up, and all
three laid hold of Mr. Bradbury and seemed disposed to compel him
to go off with them among the hills. He resisted, and sitting
down on a sand hill contrived to amuse them with a pocket
compass. When the novelty of this was exhausted they again seized
him, but he now produced a small microscope. This new wonder
again fixed the attention of the savages, who have more curiosity
than it has been the custom to allow them. While thus engaged,
one of them suddenly leaped up and gave a war-whoop. The hand of
the hardy naturalist was again on his gun, and he was prepared to
make battle, when the Indian pointed down the river and revealed
the true cause of his yell. It was the mast of one of the boats
appearing above the low willows which bordered the stream. Mr.
Bradbury felt infinitely relieved by the sight. The Indians on
their part now showed signs of apprehension, and were disposed to
run away; but he assured them of good treatment and something to
drink if they would accompany him on board of the boats. They
lingered for a time, but disappeared before the boats came to
land.

On the following morning they appeared at camp accompanied by
several of their tribe. With them came also a white man, who
announced himself as a messenger bearing missives for Mr. Hunt.
In fact he brought a letter from Mr. Manuel Lisa, partner and
agent of the Missouri Fur Company. As has already been mentioned,
this gentleman was going in search of Mr. Henry and his party,
who had been dislodged from the forks of the Missouri by the
Blackfeet Indians, and had shifted his post somewhere beyond the
Rocky Mountains. Mr. Lisa had left St. Louis three weeks after
Mr. Hunt, and having heard of the hostile intentions of the
Sioux, had made the greatest exertions to overtake him, that they
might pass through the dangerous part of the river together. He
had twenty stout oarsmen in his service and they plied their oars
so vigorously, that he had reached the Omaha village just four
days after the departure of Mr. Hunt. From this place he
despatched the messenger in question, trusting to his overtaking
the barges as they toiled up against the stream, and were delayed
by the windings of the river. The purport of his letter was to
entreat Mr. Hunt to wait until he could come up with him, that
they might unite their forces and be a protection to each other
in their perilous course through the country of the Sioux. In
fact, as it was afterwards ascertained, Lisa was apprehensive
that Mr. Hunt would do him some ill office with the Sioux band,
securing his own passage through their country by pretending that
he, with whom they were accustomed to trade, was on his way to
them with a plentiful supply of goods. He feared, too, that
Crooks and M'Lellan would take this opportunity to retort upon
him the perfidy which they accused him of having used, two years
previously, among these very Sioux. In this respect, however, he
did them signal injustice. There was no such thing as court
design or treachery in their thought; but M'Lellan, when he heard
that Lisa was on his way up the river, renewed his open threat of
shooting him the moment he met him on Indian land.

The representations made by Crooks and M'Lellan of the treachery
they had experienced, or fancied, on the part of Lisa, had great
weight with Mr. Hunt, especially when he recollected the
obstacles that had been thrown in his way by that gentleman at
St. Louis. He doubted, therefore, the fair dealing of Lisa, and
feared that, should they enter the Sioux country together, the
latter might make use of his influence with that tribe, as he had
in the case of Crooks and M'Lellan, and instigate them to oppose
his progress up the river.

He sent back, therefore, an answer calculated to beguile Lisa,
assuring him that he would wait for him at the Poncas village,
which was but a little distance in advance; but, no sooner had
the messenger departed, than he pushed forward with all
diligence, barely stopping at the village to procure a supply of
dried buffalo meat, and hastened to leave the other party as far
behind as possible, thinking there was less to be apprehended
from the open hostility of Indian foes than from the quiet
strategy of an Indian trader.

                         CHAPTER XVII.
                                
Rumors of Danger From the Sioux Tetons.- Ruthless Character of
  Those Savages.- Pirates of the Missouri.- Their Affair with
Crooks and M'Lellan.- A Trading Expedition Broken Up.- M'Lellan's
    Vow of Vengeance.- Uneasiness in the Camp.- Desertions.-
Departure From the Omaha Village.- Meeting With Jones and Carson,
   two Adventurous Trappers.- Scientific Pursuits of Messrs.
Bradbury and Nuttall. - Zeal of a Botanist.- Adventure of Mr.
Bradbury with a Ponca Indian. -Expedient of the Pocket Compass
and Microscope.- A Messenger From Lisa.- Motives for Pressing
                            Forward.

WHILE Mr. Hunt and his party were sojourning at the village of
the Omahas, three Sioux Indians of the Yankton Alma tribe
arrived, bringing unpleasant intelligence. They reported that
certain bands of the Sioux Tetons, who inhabited a region many
leagues further up the Missouri, were near at hand, awaiting the
approach of the party, with the avowed intention of opposing
their progress.

The Sioux Tetons were at that time a sort of pirates of the
Missouri, who considered the well freighted bark of the American
trader fair game. They had their own traffic with the British
merchants of the Northwest, who brought them regular supplies of
merchandise by way of the river St. Peter. Being thus independent
of the Missouri traders for their supplies, they kept no terms
with them, but plundered them whenever they had an opportunity.
It has been insinuated that they were prompted to these outrages
by the British merchants, who wished to keep off all rivals in
the Indian trade; but others allege another motive, and one
savoring of a deeper policy. The Sioux, by their intercourse with
the British traders, had acquired the use of firearms, which had
given them vast superiority over other tribes higher up the
Missouri. They had made themselves also, in a manner, factors for
the upper tribes, supplying them at second hand, and at greatly
advanced prices, with goods derived from the white men. The
Sioux, therefore, saw with jealousy the American traders pushing
their way up the Missouri; foreseeing that the upper tribes would
thus be relieved from all dependence on them for supplies; nay,
what was worse, would be furnished with fire-arms, and elevated
into formidable rivals.

We have already alluded to a case in which Mr. Crooks and Mr.
M'Lellan had been interrupted in a trading voyage by these
ruffians of the river, and, as it is in some degree connected
with circumstances hereafter to be related, we shall specify it
more particularly.

About two years before the time of which we are treating, Crooks
and M'Lellan were ascending the river in boats with a party of
about forty men, bound on one of their trading expeditions to the
upper tribes. In one of the bends of the river, where the channel
made a deep curve under impending banks, they suddenly heard
yells and shouts above them, and beheld the cliffs overhead
covered with armed savages. It was a band of Sioux warriors,
upwards of six hundred strong. They brandished their weapons in a
menacing manner, and ordered the boats to turn back and land
lower down the river. There was no disputing these commands, for
they had the power to shower destruction upon the white men,
without risk to themselves. Crooks and M'Lellan, therefore,
turned back with feigned alacrity, and, landing, had an interview
with the Sioux. The latter forbade them, under pain of
exterminating hostility, from attempting to proceed up the river,
but offered to trade peacefully with them if they would halt
where they were. The party, being principally composed of
voyageurs, was too weak to contend with so superior a force, and
one so easily augmented; they pretended, therefore, to comply
cheerfully with their arbitrary dictation, and immediately
proceeded to cut down trees and erect a trading house. The
warrior band departed for their village, which was about twenty
miles distant, to collect objects of traffic; they left six or
eight of their number, however, to keep watch upon the white men,
and scouts were continually passing to and fro with intelligence.

Mr. Crooks saw that it would be impossible to prosecute his
voyage without the danger of having his boats plundered, and a
great part of his men massacred; he determined, however, not to
be entirely frustrated in the objects of his expedition. While he
continued, therefore, with great apparent earnestness and
assiduity, the construction of the trading house, he despatched
the hunters and trappers of his party in a canoe, to make their
way up the river to the original place of destination, there to
busy themselves in trapping and collecting peltries, and to await
his arrival at some future period.

As soon as the detachment had had sufficient time to ascend
beyond the hostile country of the Sioux, Mr. Crooks suddenly
broke up his feigned trading establishment, embarked his men and
effects, and, after giving the astonished rear-guard of savages a
galling and indignant message to take to their countrymen, pushed
down the river with all speed, sparing neither oar nor paddle,
day nor night, until fairly beyond the swoop of these river
hawks.

What increased the irritation of Messrs. Crooks and M'Lellan, at
this mortifying check to their gainful enterprise, was the
information that a rival trader was at the bottom of it; the
Sioux, it is said, having been instigated to this outrage by Mr.
Manuel Lisa, the leading partner and agent of the Missouri Fur
Company, already mentioned. This intelligence, whether true or
false, so roused the fiery temper of M'Lellan, that he swore, if
ever he fell in with Lisa in the Indian country, he would shoot
him on the spot; a mode of redress perfectly in unison with the
character of the man, and the code of honor prevalent beyond the
frontier.

If Crooks and M'Lellan had been exasperated by the insolent
conduct of the Sioux Tetons, and the loss which it had
occasioned, those freebooters had been no less indignant at being
outwitted by the white men, and disappointed of their anticipated
gains, and it was apprehended they would be particularly hostile
against the present expedition, when they should learn that these
gentlemen were engaged in it.

All these causes of uneasiness were concealed as much as possible
from the Canadian voyageurs, lest they should become intimidated;
it was impossible, however, to prevent the rumors brought by the
Indians from leaking out, and they became subjects of gossiping
and exaggeration. The chief of the Omahas, too, on returning from
a hunting excursion, reported that two men had been killed some
distance above, by a band of Sioux. This added to the fears that
already began to be excited. The voyageurs pictured to themselves
bands of fierce warriors stationed along each bank of the river,
by whom they would be exposed to be shot down in their boats: or
lurking hordes, who would set on them at night, and massacre them
in their encampments. Some lost heart, and proposed to return,
rather than fight their way, and, in a manner, run the gauntlet
through the country of these piratical marauders. In fact, three
men deserted while at this village. Luckily, their place was
supplied by three others who happened to be there, and who were
prevailed on to join the expedition by promises of liberal pay,
and by being fitted out and equipped in complete style.

The irresolution and discontent visible among some of his people,
arising at times almost to mutiny, and the occasional desertions
which took place while thus among friendly tribes, and within
reach of the frontiers, added greatly to the anxieties of Mr.
Hunt, and rendered him eager to press forward and leave a hostile
tract behind him, so that it would be as perilous to return as to
keep on, and no one would dare to desert.

Accordingly, on the 15th of May he departed from the village of
the Omahas, and set forward towards the country of the formidable
Sioux Tetons. For the first five days they had a fair and fresh
breeze, and the boats made good progress. The wind then came
ahead, and the river beginning to rise, and to increase in
rapidity, betokened the commencement of the annual flood, caused
by the melting of the snow on the Rocky Mountains, and the vernal
rains of the upper prairies.

As they were now entering a region where foes might be lying in
wait on either bank, it was determined, in hunting for game, to
confine themselves principally to the islands, which sometimes
extend to considerable length, and are beautifully wooded,
affording abundant pasturage and shade. On one of these they
killed three buffaloes and two elks, and halting on the edge of a
beautiful prairie, made a sumptuous hunter's repast. They had not
long resumed their boats and pulled along the river banks when
they descried a canoe approaching, navigated by two men, whom, to
their surprise, they ascertained to be white men. They proved to
be two of those strange and fearless wanderers of the wilderness,
the trappers. Their names were Benjamin Jones and Alexander
Carson. They had been for two years past hunting and trapping
near the head of the Missouri, and were thus floating for
thousands of miles in a cockle-shell, down a turbulent stream,
through regions infested by savage tribes, yet apparently as easy
and unconcerned as if navigating securely in the midst of
civilization.

The acquisition of two such hardy, experienced, and dauntless
hunters was peculiarly desirable at the present moment. They
needed but little persuasion. The wilderness is the home of the
trapper; like the sailor, he cares but little to which point of
the compass he steers; and Jones and Carson readily abandoned
their voyage to St. Louis, and turned their faces towards the
Rocky Mountains and the Pacific.

The two naturalists, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nuttall, who had
joined the expedition at St. Louis, still accompanied it, and
pursued their researches on all occasions. Mr. Nuttall seems to
have been exclusively devoted to his scientific pursuits. He was
a zealous botanist, and all his enthusiasm was awakened at
beholding a new world, as it were, opening upon him in the
boundless prairies, clad in the vernal and variegated robe of
unknown flowers. Whenever the boats landed at meal times, or for
any temporary purpose, he would spring on shore, and set out on a
hunt for new specimens. Every plant or flower of a rare or
unknown species was eagerly seized as a prize. Delighted with the
treasures spreading themselves out before him, he went groping
and stumbling along among the wilderness of sweets, forgetful of
everything but his immediate pursuit, and had often to be sought
after when the boats were about to resume their course. At such
times he would be found far off in the prairies, or up the course
of some petty stream, laden with plants of all kinds.

The Canadian voyageurs, who are a class of people that know
nothing out of their immediate line, and with constitutional
levity make a jest of anything they cannot understand, were
extremely puzzled by this passion for collecting what they
considered mere useless weeds. When they saw the worthy botanist
coming back heavy laden with his specimens, and treasuring them
up as carefully as a miser would his hoard, they used to make
merry among themselves at his expense, regarding him as some
whimsical kind of madman.

Mr. Bradbury was less exclusive in his tastes and habits, and
combined the hunter and sportsman with the naturalist. He took
his rifle or his fowling-piece with him in his geological
researches, conformed to the hardy and rugged habits of the men
around him, and of course gained favor in their eyes. He had a
strong relish for incident and adventure, was curious in
observing savage manners, and savage life, and ready to join any
hunting or other excursion. Even now, that the expedition was
proceeding through a dangerous neighborhood, he could not check
his propensity to ramble. Having observed, on the evening of the
22d of May, that the river ahead made a great bend which would
take up the navigation of the following day, he determined to
profit by the circumstance. On the morning of the 23d, therefore,
instead of embarking, he filled his shot-pouch with parched corn,
for provisions, and set off to cross the neck on foot and meet
the boats in the afternoon at the opposite side of the bend. Mr.
Hunt felt uneasy at his venturing thus alone, and reminded him
that he was in an enemy's country; but Mr. Bradbury made light of
the danger, and started off cheerily upon his ramble. His day was
passed pleasantly in traversing a beautiful tract, making
botanical and geological researches, and observing the habits of
an extensive village of prairie dogs, at which he made several
ineffectual shots, without considering the risk he ran of
attracting the attention of any savages that might be lurking in
the neighborhood. In fact he had totally forgotten the Sioux
Tetons, and all the other perils of the country, when, about the
middle of the afternoon, as he stood near the river bank, and was
looking out for the boat, he suddenly felt a hand laid on his
shoulder. Starting and turning round, he beheld a naked savage
with a bow bent, and the arrow pointed at his breast. In an
instant his gun was leveled and his hand upon the lock. The
Indian drew his bow still further, but forbore to launch the
shaft. Mr. Bradbury, with admirable presence of mind, reflected
that the savage, if hostile in his intents, would have shot him
without giving him a chance of defense; he paused, therefore, and
held out his hand. The other took it in sign of friendship, and
demanded in the Osage language whether he was a Big Knife, or
American. He answered in the affirmative, and inquired whether
the other were a Sioux. To his great relief he found that he was
a Ponca. By his time two other Indians came running up, and all
three laid hold of Mr. Bradbury and seemed disposed to compel him
to go off with them among the hills. He resisted, and sitting
down on a sand hill contrived to amuse them with a pocket
compass. When the novelty of this was exhausted they again seized
him, but he now produced a small microscope. This new wonder
again fixed the attention of the savages, who have more curiosity
than it has been the custom to allow them. While thus engaged,
one of them suddenly leaped up and gave a war-whoop. The hand of
the hardy naturalist was again on his gun, and he was prepared to
make battle, when the Indian pointed down the river and revealed
the true cause of his yell. It was the mast of one of the boats
appearing above the low willows which bordered the stream. Mr.
Bradbury felt infinitely relieved by the sight. The Indians on
their part now showed signs of apprehension, and were disposed to
run away; but he assured them of good treatment and something to
drink if they would accompany him on board of the boats. They
lingered for a time, but disappeared before the boats came to
land.

On the following morning they appeared at camp accompanied by
several of their tribe. With them came also a white man, who
announced himself as a messenger bearing missives for Mr. Hunt.
In fact he brought a letter from Mr. Manuel Lisa, partner and
agent of the Missouri Fur Company. As has already been mentioned,
this gentleman was going in search of Mr. Henry and his party,
who had been dislodged from the forks of the Missouri by the
Blackfeet Indians, and had shifted his post somewhere beyond the
Rocky Mountains. Mr. Lisa had left St. Louis three weeks after
Mr. Hunt, and having heard of the hostile intentions of the
Sioux, had made the greatest exertions to overtake him, that they
might pass through the dangerous part of the river together. He
had twenty stout oarsmen in his service and they plied their oars
so vigorously, that he had reached the Omaha village just four
days after the departure of Mr. Hunt. From this place he
despatched the messenger in question, trusting to his overtaking
the barges as they toiled up against the stream, and were delayed
by the windings of the river. The purport of his letter was to
entreat Mr. Hunt to wait until he could come up with him, that
they might unite their forces and be a protection to each other
in their perilous course through the country of the Sioux. In
fact, as it was afterwards ascertained, Lisa was apprehensive
that Mr. Hunt would do him some ill office with the Sioux band,
securing his own passage through their country by pretending that
he, with whom they were accustomed to trade, was on his way to
them with a plentiful supply of goods. He feared, too, that
Crooks and M'Lellan would take this opportunity to retort upon
him the perfidy which they accused him of having used, two years
previously, among these very Sioux. In this respect, however, he
did them signal injustice. There was no such thing as court
design or treachery in their thought; but M'Lellan, when he heard
that Lisa was on his way up the river, renewed his open threat of
shooting him the moment he met him on Indian land.

The representations made by Crooks and M'Lellan of the treachery
they had experienced, or fancied, on the part of Lisa, had great
weight with Mr. Hunt, especially when he recollected the
obstacles that had been thrown in his way by that gentleman at
St. Louis. He doubted, therefore, the fair dealing of Lisa, and
feared that, should they enter the Sioux country together, the
latter might make use of his influence with that tribe, as he had
in the case of Crooks and M'Lellan, and instigate them to oppose
his progress up the river.

He sent back, therefore, an answer calculated to beguile Lisa,
assuring him that he would wait for him at the Poncas village,
which was but a little distance in advance; but, no sooner had
the messenger departed, than he pushed forward with all
diligence, barely stopping at the village to procure a supply of
dried buffalo meat, and hastened to leave the other party as far
behind as possible, thinking there was less to be apprehended
from the open hostility of Indian foes than from the quiet
strategy of an Indian trader.

                         CHAPTER XVIII.
                                
Camp Gossip.- Deserters.- Recruits.- Kentucky Hunters.- A Veteran
  Woodman.- Tidings of Mr. Henry.-Danger From the Blackfeet. -
Alteration of Plans.- Scenery of the River.- Buffalo Roads.- Iron
Ore.- Country of the Sioux.- A Land of Danger.-apprehensions of
   the Voyageurs.- Indian Scouts.- Threatened Hostilities.- A
  Council of War.- An Array of Battle.-A Parley.- The Pipe of
                     Peace.- Speech-Making.

IT was about noon when the party left the Poncas village, about a
league beyond which they passed the mouth of the Quicourt, or
Rapid River (called, in the original French, l'Eau Qui Court).
After having proceeded some distance further, they landed, and
encamped for the night. In the evening camp, the voyageurs
gossiped, as usual, over the events of the day; and especially
over intelligence picked up among the Poncas. These Indians had
confirmed the previous reports of the hostile intentions of the
Sioux, and had assured them that five tribes, or bands, of that
fierce nation were actually assembled higher up the river, and
waiting to cut them off. This evening gossip, and the terrific
stories of Indian warfare to which it gave rise, produced a
strong effect upon the imagination of the irresolute; and in the
morning it was discovered that the two men, who had joined the
party at the Omaha village, and been so bounteously fitted out,
had deserted in the course of the night, carrying with them all
their equipments. As it was known that one of them could not
swim, it was hoped that the banks of the Quicourt River would
bring them to a halt. A general pursuit was therefore instituted,
but without success.

On the following morning (May 26th), as they were all on shore,
breakfasting on one of the beautiful banks of the river, they
observed two canoes descending along the opposite side. By the
aid of spy-glasses, they ascertained that there were two white
men in one of the canoes, and one in the other. A gun was
discharged, which called the attention of the voyagers, who
crossed over. They proved to be the three Kentucky hunters, of
the true "dreadnought" stamp. Their names were Edward Robinson,
John Hoback, and Jacob Rizner. Robinson was a veteran
backwoodsman, sixty-six years of age. He had been one of the
first settlers of Kentucky, and engaged in many of the conflicts
of the Indians on "the Bloody Ground." In one of these battles he
had been scalped, and he still wore a handkerchief bound round
his head to protect the part. These men had passed several years
in the upper wilderness. They had been in the service of the
Missouri Company under Mr. Henry, and had crossed the Rocky
Mountains with him in the preceding year, when driven from his
post on the Missouri by the hostilities of the Blackfeet. After
crossing the mountains, Mr. Henry had established himself on one
of the head branches of the Columbia River. There they had
remained with him some months, hunting and trapping, until,
having satisfied their wandering propensities, they felt disposed
to return to the families and comfortable homes which they had
left in Kentucky. They had accordingly made their way back across
the mountains, and down the rivers, and were in full career for
St. Louis, when thus suddenly interrupted. The sight of a
powerful party of traders, trappers, hunters, and voyageurs, well
armed and equipped, furnished at all points, in high health and
spirits, and banqueting lustily on the green margin of the river,
was a spectacle equally stimulating to these veteran backwoodsmen
with the glorious array of a campaigning army to an old soldier;
but when they learned the grand scope and extent of the
enterprise in hand, it was irresistible; homes and families and
all the charms of green Kentucky vanished from their thoughts;
they cast loose their canoes to drift down the stream, and
joyfully enlisted in the band of adventurers. They engaged on
similar terms with some of the other hunters. The company was to
fit them out, and keep them supplied with the requisite
equipments and munitions, and they were to yield one half of the
produce of their hunting and trapping.

The addition of three such staunch recruits was extremely
acceptable at this dangerous part of the river. The knowledge of
the country which they had acquired, also, in their journeys and
hunting excursions along the rivers and among the Rocky Mountains
was all important; in fact, the information derived from them
induced Mr. Hunt to alter his future course. He had hitherto
intended to proceed by the route taken by Lewis and Clarke in
their famous exploring expedition, ascending he Missouri to its
forks, and thence going, by land, across the mountains. These men
informed him, however, that, on taking that course he would have
to pass through the country invested by the savage tribe of the
Blackfeet, and would be exposed to their hostilities; they being,
as has already been observed, exasperated to deadly animosity
against the whites, on account of the death of one of their tribe
by the hand of Captain Lewis. They advised him rather to pursue a
route more to the southward, being the same by which they had
returned. This would carry them over the mountains about where
the head-waters of the Platte and the Yellowstone take their
rise, at a place much more easy and practicable than that where
Lewis and Clarke had crossed. In pursuing this course, also, he
would pass through a country abounding with game, where he would
have a better chance of procuring a constant supply of provisions
than by the other route, and would run less risk of molestation
from the Blackfeet. Should he adopt this advice, it would be
better for him to abandon the river at the Arickara town, at
which he would arrive in the course of a few days. As the Indians
at that town possessed horses in abundance, he might purchase a
sufficient number of them for his great journey overland, which
would commence at that place.

After reflecting on this advice, and consulting with his
associates, Mr. Hunt came to the determination to follow the
route thus pointed out, to which the hunters engaged to pilot
him.

The party continued their voyage with delightful May weather. The
prairies bordering on the river were gayly painted with
innumerable flowers, exhibiting the motley confusion of colors of
a Turkey carpet. The beautiful islands, also, on which they
occasionally halted, presented the appearance of mingled grove
and garden. The trees were often covered with clambering
grapevines in blossom, which perfumed the air. Between the
stately masses of the groves were grassy lawns and glades,
studded with flowers, or interspersed with rose-bushes in full
bloom. These islands were often the resort of the buffalo, the
elk, and the antelope, who had made innumerable paths among the
trees and thickets, which had the effect of the mazy walks and
alleys of parks and shrubberies. Sometimes, where the river
passed between high banks and bluffs, the roads made by the tramp
of buffaloes for many ages along the face of the heights, looked
like so many well-travelled highways. At other places the banks
were banded with great veins of iron ore, laid bare by the
abrasion of the river. At one place the course of the river was
nearly in a straight line for about fifteen miles. The banks
sloped gently to its margin, without a single tree, but bordered
with grass and herbage of a vivid green. Along each bank, for the
whole fifteen miles, extended a stripe, one hundred yards in
breadth, of a deep rusty brown, indicating an inexhaustible bed
of iron, through the center of which the Missouri had worn its
way. Indications of the continuance of this bed were afterwards
observed higher up the river. It is, in fact, one of the mineral
magazines which nature has provided in the heart of this vast
realm of fertility, and which, in connection with the immense
beds of coal on the same river, seem garnered up as the elements
of the future wealth and power of the mighty West.

The sight of these mineral treasures greatly excited the
curiosity of Mr. Bradbury, and it was tantalizing to him to be
checked in his scientific researches, and obliged to forego his
usual rambles on shore; but they were now entering the fated
country of the Sioux Tetons, in which it was dangerous to wander
about unguarded.

This country extends for some days' journey along the river, and
consists of vast prairies, here and there diversified by swelling
hills, and cut up by ravines, the channels of turbid streams in
the rainy seasons, but almost destitute of water during the heats
of summer. Here and there on the sides of the hills, or along the
alluvial borders and bottoms of the ravines, are groves and
skirts of forest: but for the most part the country presented to
the eye a boundless waste, covered with herbage, but without
trees.

The soil of this immense region is strongly impregnated with
sulphur, copperas, alum, and glauber salts; its various earths
impart a deep tinge to the streams which drain it, and these,
with the crumbling of the banks along the Missouri, give to the
waters of that river much of the coloring matter with which they
are clouded.

Over this vast tract the roving bands of the Sioux Tetons hold
their vagrant sway, subsisting by the chase of the buffalo, the
elk, the deer, and the antelope, and waging ruthless warfare with
other wandering tribes.

As the boats made their way up the stream bordered by this land
of danger, many of the Canadian voyageurs, whose fears had been
awakened, would regard with a distrustful eye the boundless waste
extending on each side. All, however, was silent, and apparently
untenanted by a human being. Now and then a herd of deer would be
seen feeding tranquilly among the flowery herbage, or a line of
buffaloes, like a caravan on its march, moving across the distant
profile of the prairie. The Canadians, however, began to
apprehend an ambush in every thicket, and to regard the broad,
tranquil plain as a sailor eyes some shallow and perfidious sea,
which, though smooth and safe to the eye, conceals the lurking
rock or treacherous shoal. The very name of a Sioux became a
watchword of terror. Not an elk, a wolf, or any other animal,
could appear on the hills, but the boats resounded with
exclamations from stem to stern,"voila les Sioux! voila les
Sioux!" (there are the Sioux! there are the Sioux!) Whenever it
was practicable, the night encampment was on some island in the
center of the stream.

On the morning of the 31st of May, as the travellers were
breakfasting on the right bank of the river, the usual alarm was
given, but with more reason, as two Indians actually made their
appearance on a bluff on the opposite or northern side, and
harangued them in a loud voice. As it was impossible at that
distance to distinguish what they said, Mr. Hunt, after
breakfast, crossed the river with Pierre Dorion, the interpreter,
and advanced boldly to converse with them, while the rest
remained watching in mute suspense the movements of the parties.
As soon as Mr. Hunt landed, one of the Indians disappeared behind
the hill, but shortly reappeared on horseback, and went scouring
off across the heights. Mr. Hunt held some conference with the
remaining savage, and then recrossed the river to his party.

These two Indians proved to be spies or scouts of a large war
party encamped about a league off, and numbering two hundred and
eighty lodges, or about six hundred warriors, of three different
tribes of Sioux; the Yangtons Ahna, the Tetons Bois-brule, and
the Tetons Min-na-kine-azzo. They expected daily to be reinforced
by two other tribes, and had been waiting eleven days for the
arrival of Mr. Hunt's party, with a determination to oppose their
progress up the river; being resolved to prevent all trade of the
white men with their enemies the Arickaras, Mandans, and
Minatarees. The Indian who had galloped off on horseback had gone
to give notice of the approach of the party, so that they might
now look out for some fierce scenes with those piratical savages,
of whom they had received so many formidable accounts.

The party braced up their spirits to the encounter, and
reembarking, pulled resolutely up the stream. An island for some
time intervened between them and the opposite side of the river;
but on clearing the upper end, they came in full view of the
hostile shore. There was a ridge of hills down which the savages
were pouring in great numbers, some on horseback, and some on
foot. Reconnoitering them with the aid of glasses, they perceived
that they were all in warlike array, painted and decorated for
battle. Their weapons were bows and arrows, and a few short
carbines, and most of them had round shields. Altogether they had
a wild and gallant appearance, and, taking possession of a point
which commanded the river, ranged themselves along the bank as if
prepared to dispute their passage.

At sight of this formidable front of war, Mr. Hunt and his
companions held counsel together. It was plain that the rumors
they had heard were correct, and the Sioux were determined to
oppose their progress by force of arms. To attempt to elude them
and continue along the river was out of the question. The
strength of the mid-current was too violent to be withstood, and
the boats were obliged to ascend along the river banks. These
banks were often high and perpendicular, affording the savages
frequent stations, from whence, safe themselves, and almost
unseen, they might shower down their missiles upon the boats
below, and retreat at will, without danger from pursuit. Nothing
apparently remained, therefore, but to fight or turn back. The
Sioux far outnumbered them, it is true, but their own party was
about sixty strong, well armed and supplied with ammunition; and,
beside their guns and rifles, they had a swivel and two howitzers
mounted in the boats. Should they succeed in breaking this Indian
force by one vigorous assault, it was likely they would be
deterred from making any future attack of consequence. The
fighting alternative was, therefore, instantly adopted, and the
boats pulled to shore nearly opposite to the hostile force. Here
the arms were all examined and put in order. The swivel and
howitzers were then loaded with powder and discharged, to let the
savages know by the report how formidably they were provided. The
noise echoed along the shores of the river, and must have
startled the warriors who were only accustomed to sharp reports
of rifles. The same pieces were then loaded with as many bullets
as they would probably bear; after which the whole party
embarked, and pulled across the river. The Indians remained
watching them in silence, their painted forms and visages glaring
in the sun, and their feathers fluttering in the breeze. The poor
Canadians eyed them with rueful glances, and now and then a
fearful ejaculation escaped them. "Parbleu! this is a sad scrape
we are in, brother!" one would mutter to the next oarsman. "Aye,
aye!" the other would reply, "we are not going to a wedding, my
friend!"

When the boats arrived within rifle-shot, the hunters and other
fighting personages on board seized their weapons, and prepared
for action. As they rose to fire, a confusion took place among
the savages. They displayed their buffalo robes, raised them with
both hands above their heads, and then spread them before them on
the ground. At sight of this, Pierre Dorion eagerly cried out to
the party not to fire, as this movement was a peaceful signal,
and an invitation to a parley. Immediately about a dozen of the
principal warriors, separating from the rest, descended to the
edge of the river, lighted a fire, seated themselves in a
semicircle round it, and, displaying the calumet, invited the
party to land. Mr. Hunt now called a council of the partners on
board of his boat. The question was, whether to trust to the
amicable overtures of these ferocious people? It was determined
in the affirmative; for, otherwise, there was no alternative but
to fight them. The main body of the party were ordered to remain
on board of the boats, keeping within shot and prepared to fire
in case of any signs of treachery; while Mr. Hunt and the other
partners (M'Kenzie, Crooks, Miller, and M'Lellan) proceeded to
land, accompanied by the interpreter and Mr. Bradbury. The
chiefs, who awaited them on the margin of the river, remained
seated in their semicircle, without stirring a limb or moving a
muscle, motionless as so many statues. Mr. Hunt and his
companions advanced without hesitation, and took their seats on
the sand so as to complete the circle. The band of warriors who
lined the banks above stood looking down in silent groups and
clusters, some ostentatiously equipped and decorated, others
entirely naked but fantastically painted, and all variously
armed.

The pipe of peace was now brought forward with due ceremony. The
bowl was of a species of red stone resembling porphyry; the stem
was six feet in length, decorated with tufts of horse-hair dyed
red. The pipe-bearer stepped within the circle, lighted the pipe,
held it towards the sun, then towards the different points of the
compass, after which he handed it to the principal chief. The
latter smoked a few whiffs, then, holding the head of the pipe in
his hand, offered the other end to Mr. Hunt, and to each one
successively in the circle. When all had smoked, it was
considered that an assurance of good faith and amity had been
interchanged. Mr. Hunt now made a speech in French, which was
interpreted as he proceeded by Pierre Dorion. He informed the
Sioux of the real object of the expedition of himself and his
companions, which was, not to trade with any of the tribes up the
river, but to cross the mountains to the great salt lake in the
west, in search of some of their brothers, whom they had not seen
for eleven months. That he had heard of the intention of the
Sioux to oppose his passage, and was prepared, as they might see,
to effect it at all hazards; nevertheless, his feelings towards
the Sioux were friendly, in proof of which he had brought them a
present of tobacco and corn. So saying, he ordered about fifteen
carottes of tobacco, and as many bags of corn, to be brought from
the boat and laid in a heap near the council fire.

The sight of these presents mollified the chieftain, who had,
doubtless, been previously rendered considerate by the resolute
conduct of the white men, the judicious disposition of their
little armament, the completeness of their equipments, and the
compact array of battle which they presented. He made a speech in
reply, in which he stated the object of their hostile assemblage,
which had been merely to prevent supplies of arms and ammunition
from going to the Arickaras, Mandans, and Minatarees, with whom
they were at war; but being now convinced that the party were
carrying no supplies of the kind, but merely proceeding in quest
of their brothers beyond the mountains, they would not impede
them in their voyage. He concluded by thanking them for their
present, and advising them to encamp on the opposite side of the
river, as he had some young men among his warriors for whose
discretion he could not be answerable, and who might be
troublesome.

Here ended the conference: they all arose, shook hands, and
parted. Mr. Hunt and his companions re-embarked, and the boats
proceeded on their course unmolested.

                          CHAPTER XIX.
                                
The Great Bend of the Missouri- Crooks and M'Lellan Meet With Two
  of Their Indian Opponents- Wanton Outrage of a White Man the
Cause of Indian Hostility- Dangers and Precautions.-An Indian War
Party.- Dangerous Situation of Mr. Hunt.- A Friendly Encampment.
-Feasting and Dancing.- Approach of Manuel Lisa and His Party -.A
Grim Meeting Between Old Rivals.- Pierre Dorion in a Fury.- A
                       Burst of chivalry.

ON the afternoon of the following day (June 1st) they arrived at
the great bend, where the river winds for about thirty miles
round a circular peninsula, the neck of which is not above two
thousand yards across. On the succeeding morning, at an early
hour, they descried two Indians standing on a high bank of the
river, waving and spreading their buffalo robes in signs of
amity. They immediately pulled to shore and landed. On
approaching the savages, however, the latter showed evident
symptoms of alarm, spreading out their arms horizontally,
according to their mode of supplicating clemency. The reason was
soon explained. They proved to be two chiefs of the very war
party that had brought Messrs. Crooks and M'Lellan to a stand two
years before, and obliged them to escape down the river. They ran
to embrace these gentlemen, as if delighted to meet with them;
yet they evidently feared some retaliation of their past
misconduct, nor were they quite at ease until the pipe of peace
had been smoked.

Mr. Hunt having been informed that the tribe to which these men
belonged had killed three white men during the preceding summer,
reproached them with the crime, and demanded their reasons for
such savage hostility. "We kill white men," replied one of the
chiefs, "because white men kill us. That very man," added he,
pointing to Carson, one of the new recruits, "killed one of our
brothers last summer. The three white men were slain to avenge
his death."

Their chief was correct in his reply. Carson admitted that, being
with a party of Arickaras on the banks of the Missouri, and
seeing a war party of Sioux on the opposite side, he had fired
with his rifle across. It was a random shot, made without much
expectation of effect, for the river was full half a mile in
breadth. Unluckily it brought down a Sioux warrior, for whose
wanton destruction threefold vengeance had been taken, as has
been stated. In this way outrages are frequently committed on the
natives by thoughtless or mischievous white men; the Indians
retaliate according to a law of their code, which requires blood
for blood; their act, of what with them is pious vengeance,
resounds throughout the land, and is represented as wanton and
unprovoked; the neighborhood is roused to arms; a war ensues,
which ends in the destruction of half the tribe, the ruin of the
rest, and their expulsion from their hereditary homes. Such is
too often the real history of Indian warfare, which in general is
traced up only to some vindictive act of a savage; while the
outrage of the scoundrel white man that provoked it is sunk in
silence.

The two chiefs, having smoked their pipe of peace and received a
few presents, departed well satisfied. In a little while two
others appeared on horseback, and rode up abreast of the boats.
They had seen the presents given to their comrades, but were
dissatisfied with them, and came after the boats to ask for more.
Being somewhat peremptory and insolent in their demands, Mr. Hunt
gave them a flat refusal, and threatened, if they or any of their
tribes followed him with similar demands, to treat them as
enemies. They turned and rode off in a furious passion. As he was
ignorant what force these chiefs might have behind the hills, and
as it was very possible they might take advantage of some pass of
the river to attack the boats, Mr. Hunt called all stragglers on
board and prepared for such emergency. It was agreed that the
large boat commanded by Mr. Hunt should ascend along the
northeast side of the river, and the three smaller boats along
the south side. By this arrangement each party would command a
view of the opposite heights above the heads and out of sight of
their companions, and could give the alarm should they perceive
any Indians lurking there. The signal of alarm was to be two
shots fired in quick succession.

The boats proceeded for the greater part of the day without
seeing any signs of an enemy. About four o'clock in the afternoon
the large boat, commanded by Mr. Hunt, came to where the river
was divided by a long sand-bar, which apparently, however, left a
sufficient channel between it and the shore along which they were
advancing. He kept up this channel, therefore, for some distance,
until the water proved too shallow for the boat. It was
necessary, therefore, to put about, return down the channel, and
pull round the lower end of the sand-bar into the main stream.
Just as he had given orders to this effect to his men, two signal
guns were fired from the boats on the opposite side of the river.
At the same moment, a file of savage warriors was observed
pouring down from the impending bank, and gathering on the shore
at the lower end of the bar. They were evidently a war party,
being armed with bows and arrows, battle clubs and carbines, and
round bucklers of buffalo hide, and their naked bodies were
painted with black and white stripes. The natural inference was,
that they belonged to the two tribes of Sioux which had been
expected by the great war party, and that they had been incited
to hostility by the two chiefs who had been enraged by the
refusal and the menace of Mr. Hunt. Here then was a fearful
predicament. Mr. Hunt and his crew seemed caught, as it were, in
a trap. The Indians, to a number of about a hundred, had already
taken possession of a point near which the boat would have to
pass: others kept pouring down the bank, and it was probable that
some would remain posted on the top of the height.

The hazardous situation of Mr. Hunt was perceived by those in the
other boats, and they hastened to his assistance. They were at
some distance above the sand-bar, however, and on the opposite
side of the river, and saw, with intense anxiety, the number of
savages continually augmenting, at the lower end of the channel,
so that the boat would be exposed to a fearful attack before they
could render it any assistance. Their anxiety increased, as they
saw Mr. Hunt and his party descending the channel and dauntlessly
approaching the point of danger; but it suddenly changed into
surprise on beholding the boat pass close by the savage horde
unmolested, and steer out safely into the broad river.

The next moment the whole band of warriors was in motion. They
ran along the bank until they were opposite to the boats, then
throwing by their weapons and buffalo robes, plunged into the
river, waded and swam off to the boats and surrounded them in
crowds, seeking to shake hands with every individual on board;
for the Indians have long since found this to be the white man's
token of amity, and they carried it to an extreme.

All uneasiness was now at an end. The Indians proved to be a war
party of Arickaras, Mandans, and Minatarees, consisting of three
hundred warriors, and bound on a foray against the Sioux. Their
war plans were abandoned for the present, and they determined to
return to the Arickara town, where they hoped to obtain from the
white men arms and ammunition that would enable them to take the
field with advantage over their enemies.

The boats now sought the first convenient place for encamping.
The tents were pitched; the warriors fixed their camp at about a
hundred yards distant; provisions were furnished from the boats
sufficient for all parties; there was hearty though rude feasting
in both camps, and in the evening the red warriors entertained
their white friends with dances and songs, that lasted until
after midnight.

On the following morning (July 3) the travellers re-embarked, and
took a temporary leave of their Indian friends, who intended to
proceed immediately for the Arickara town, where they expected to
arrive in three days, long before the boats could reach there.
Mr. Hunt had not proceeded far before the chief came galloping
along the shore and made signs for a parley. He said, his people
could not go home satisfied unless they had something to take
with them to prove that they had met with the white men. Mr. Hunt
understood the drift of the speech, and made the chief a present
of a cask of powder, a bag of balls, and three dozen of knives,
with which he was highly pleased. While the chief was receiving
these presents an Indian came running along the shore, and
announced that a boat, filled with white men, was coming up the
river. This was by no means agreeable tidings to Mr. Hunt, who
correctly concluded it to be the boat of Mr. Manuel Lisa; and he
was vexed to find that alert and adventurous trader upon his
heels, whom he hoped to have out-maneuvered, and left far behind.
Lisa, however, was too much experienced in the wiles of Indian
trade to be lulled by the promise of waiting for him at the
Poncas village; on the contrary, he had allowed himself no
repose, and had strained every nerve to overtake the rival party,
and availing himself of the moonlight, had even sailed during a
considerable part of the night. In this he was partly prompted by
his apprehensions of the Sioux, having met a boat which had
probably passed Mr. Hunt's party in the night, and which had been
fired into by these savages.

On hearing that Lisa was so near at hand, Mr. Hunt perceived that
it was useless to attempt any longer to evade him; after
proceeding a few miles further, therefore, he came to a halt and
waited for him to come up. In a little while the barge of Lisa
made its appearance. It came sweeping gently up the river, manned
by its twenty stout oarsmen, and armed by a swivel mounted at the
bow. The whole number on board amounted to twenty-six men: among
whom was Mr. Henry Breckenridge, then a young, enterprising man;
who was a mere passenger, tempted by notions of curiosity to
accompany Mr. Lisa. He has since made himself known by various
writings, among which may be noted a narrative of this very
voyage.

The approach of Lisa, while it was regarded with uneasiness by
Mr. Hunt, roused the ire of M'Lellan; who, calling to mind old
grievances, began to look round for his rifle, as if he really
intended to carry his threat into execution and shoot him on the
spot; and it was with some difficulty that Mr. Hunt was enabled
to restrain his ire, and prevent a scene of outraged confusion.

The meeting between the two leaders, thus mutually distrustful,
could not be very cordial: and as to Messrs. Crooks and M'Lellan,
though they refrained from any outbreak, yet they regarded in
grim defiance their old rival and underplotter. In truth a
general distrust prevailed throughout the party concerning Lisa
and his intentions. They considered him artful and slippery, and
secretly anxious for the failure of their expedition. There being
now nothing more to be apprehended from the Sioux, they suspected
that Lisa would take advantage of his twenty-oared barge to leave
them and get first among the Arickaras. As he had traded with
those people and possessed great influence over them, it was
feared he might make use of it to impede the business of Mr. Hunt
and his party. It was resolved, therefore, to keep a sharp look-
out upon his movements; and M'Lellan swore that if he saw the
least sign of treachery on his part, he would instantly put his
old threat into execution.

Notwithstanding these secret jealousies and heart-burnings, the
two parties maintained an outward appearance of civility, and for
two days continued forward in company with some degree of
harmony. On the third day, however, an explosion took place, and
it was produced by no less a personage than Pierre Dorion, the
half-breed interpreter. It will be recollected that this worthy
had been obliged to steal a march from St. Louis, to avoid being
arrested for an old whiskey debt which he owed to the Missouri
Fur Company, and by which Mr. Lisa had hoped to prevent his
enlisting in Mr. Hunt's expedition. Dorion, since the arrival of
Lisa, had kept aloof and regarded him with a sullen and dogged
aspect. On the fifth of July the two parties were brought to a
halt by a heavy rain, and remained encamped about a hundred yards
apart. In the course of the day Lisa undertook to tamper with the
faith of Pierre Dorion, and, inviting him on board of his boat,
regaled him with his favorite whiskey. When he thought him
sufficiently mellowed, he proposed to him to quit the service of
his new employers and return to his old allegiance. Finding him
not to be moved by soft words, he called to mind his old debt to
the company, and threatened to carry him off by force, in payment
of it. The mention of this debt always stirred up the gall of
Pierre Dorion, bringing with it the remembrance of the whiskey
extortion. A violent quarrel arose between him and Lisa, and he
left the boat in high dudgeon. His first step was to repair to
the tent of Mr. Hunt and reveal the attempt that had been made to
shake his faith. While he was yet talking Lisa entered the tent,
under the pretext of coming to borrow a towing line. High words
instantly ensued between him and Dorion, which ended by the half-
breed's dealing him a blow. A quarrel in the "Indian country",
however, is not to be settled with fisticuffs. Lisa immediately
rushed to his boat for a weapon. Dorion snatched up a pair of
pistols belonging to Mr. Hunt, and placed himself in battle
array. The noise had roused the camp, and every one pressed to
know the cause. Lisa now reappeared upon the field with a knife
stuck in his girdle. Mr. Breckenridge, who had tried in vain to
mollify his ire, accompanied him to the scene of action. Pierre
Dorion's pistols gave him the advantage, and he maintained a most
warlike attitude. In the meantime, Crooks and M'Lellan had learnt
the cause of the affray, and were each eager to take the quarrel
into their own hands. A scene of uproar and hubbub ensued that
defies description. M'Lellan would have brought his rifle into
play and settled all old and new grudges by a pull of the
trigger, had he not been restrained by Mr. Hunt. That gentleman
acted as moderator, endeavoring to prevent a general melee; in
the midst of the brawl, however, an expression was made use of by
Lisa derogatory to his own honor. In an instant the tranquil
spirit of Mr. Hunt was in a flame. He now became as eager for the
fight as any one on the ground, and challenged Lisa to settle the
dispute on the spot with pistols. Lisa repaired to his boat to
arm himself for the deadly feud. He was followed by Messrs.
Bradbury and Breckenridge, who, novices in Indian life and the
"chivalry" of the frontier, had no relish for scenes of blood and
brawl. By their earnest mediation the quarrel was brought to a
close without bloodshed; but the two leaders of the rival camps
separated in anger, and all personal intercourse ceased between
them.

                          CHAPTER XX.
                                
Features of the Wilderness- Herds of Buffalo.- Antelopes- Their
Varieties and Habits.- John Day.- His Hunting Strategy- Interview
with Three Arickaras- Negotiations Between the Rival Parties -
The Left-Handed and the Big Man, two Arickara Chiefs.- Arickara
  Village- Its Inhabitants- Ceremonials on Landing- A Council
  Lodge.- Grand Conference - Speech of Lisa.- Negotiation for
  Horses. -Shrewd Suggestion of Gray Eyes, an Arickara Chief -
               Encampment of the Trading Parties.

THE rival parties now coasted along the opposite sides of the
river, within sight of each other; the barges of Mr. Hunt always
keeping some distance in the advance, lest Lisa should push on
and get first to the Arickara village. The scenery and objects,
as they proceeded, gave evidence that they were advancing deeper
and deeper into the domains of savage nature. Boundless wastes
kept extending to the eye, more and more animated by herds of
buffalo. Sometimes these unwieldy animals were seen moving in
long procession across the silent landscape; at other times they
were scattered about, singly or in groups, on the broad, enameled
prairies and green acclivities, some cropping the rich pasturage,
others reclining amidst the flowery herbage; the whole scene
realizing in a manner the old Scriptural descriptions of the vast
pastoral countries of the Orient, with "cattle upon a thousand
hills."

At one place the shores seemed absolutely lined with buffaloes;
many were making their way across the stream, snorting, and
blowing, and floundering. Numbers, in spite of every effort, were
borne by the rapid current within shot of the boats, and several
were killed. At another place a number were descried on the beach
of a small island, under the shade of the trees, or standing in
the water, like cattle, to avoid the flies and the heat of the
day.

Several of the best marksmen stationed themselves in the bow of a
barge which advanced slowly and silently, stemming the current
with the aid of a broad sail and a fair breeze. The buffaloes
stood gazing quietly at the barge as it approached, perfectly
unconscious of their danger. The fattest of the herd was selected
by the hunters, who all fired together and brought down their
victim.

Besides the buffaloes they saw abundance of deer, and frequent
gangs of stately elks, together with light troops of sprightly
antelopes, the fleetest and most beautiful inhabitants of the
prairies.

There are two kinds of antelopes in these regions, one nearly the
size of the common deer, the other not much larger than a goat.
Their color is a light gray, or rather dun, slightly spotted with
white; and they have small horns like those of the deer, which
they never shed. Nothing can surpass the delicate and elegant
finish of their limbs, in which lightness, elasticity, and
strength are wonderfully combined. All the attitudes and
movements of this beautiful animal are graceful and picturesque;
and it is altogether as fit a subject for the fanciful uses of
the poet as the oft-sung gazelle of the East.

Their habits are shy and capricious; they keep on the open
plains, are quick to take the alarm, and bound away with a
fleetness that defies pursuit. When thus skimming across a
prairie in the autumn, their light gray or dun color blends with
the hue of the withered herbage, the swiftness of their motion
baffles the eye, and they almost seem unsubstantial forms, driven
like gossamer before the wind.

While they thus keep to the open plain and trust to their speed,
they are safe; but they have a prurient curiosity that sometimes
betrays them to their ruin. When they have scud for some distance
and left their pursuer behind, they will suddenly stop and turn
to gaze at the object of their alarm. If the pursuit is not
followed up they will, after a time, yield to their inquisitive
hankering, and return to the place from whence they have been
frightened.

John Day, the veteran hunter already mentioned, displayed his
experience and skill in entrapping one of these beautiful
animals. Taking advantage of its well known curiosity, he laid
down flat among the grass, and putting his handkerchief on the
end of his ramrod, waved it gently in the air. This had the
effect of the fabled fascination of the rattlesnake. The antelope
approached timidly, pausing and reconnoitering with increased
curiosity; moving round the point of attraction in a circle, but
still drawing nearer and nearer, until being within range of the
deadly rifle, he fell a victim to his curiosity.

On the 10th of June, as the party were making brisk progress with
a fine breeze, they met a canoe with three Indians descending the
river. They came to a parley, and brought news from the Arickara
village. The war party, which had caused such alarm at the sand-
bar, had reached the village some days previously, announced the
approach of a party of traders, and displayed with great
ostentation the presents they had received from them. On further
conversation with these three Indians, Mr. Hunt learnt the real
danger which he had run, when hemmed up within the sand-bar. The
Mandans who were of the war party, when they saw the boat so
completely entrapped and apparently within their power, had been
eager for attacking it, and securing so rich a prize. The
Minatarees, also, were nothing loath, feeling in some measure
committed in hostility to the whites, in consequence of their
tribe having killed two white men above the fort of the Missouri
Fur Company. Fortunately, the Arickaras, who formed the majority
of the war party, proved true in their friendship to the whites,
and prevented any hostile act, otherwise a bloody affray, and
perhaps a horrible massacre might have ensued.

On the 11th of June, Mr. Hunt and his companions encamped near an
island about six miles below the Arickara village. Mr. Lisa
encamped, as usual, at no great distance; but the same sullen
jealous reserve and non-intercourse continued between them.
Shortly after pitching the tents, Mr. Breckenridge made his
appearance as an ambassador from the rival camp. He came on
behalf of his companions, to arrange the manner of making their
entrance into the village and of receiving the chiefs; for
everything of the kind is a matter of grave ceremonial among the
Indians.

The partners now expressed frankly their deep distrust of the
intentions of Mr. Lisa, and their apprehensions, that, out of the
jealousy of trade, and resentment of recent disputes, he might
seek to instigate the Arickaras against them. Mr. Breckenridge
assured them that their suspicions were entirely groundless, and
pledged himself that nothing of the kind should take place. He
found it difficult, however, to remove their distrust; the
conference, therefore, ended without producing any cordial
understanding; and M'Lellan recurred to his old threat of
shooting Lisa the instant he discovered anything like treachery
in his proceedings.

That night the rain fell in torrents, accompanied by thunder and
lightning. The camp was deluged, and the bedding and baggage
drenched. All hands embarked at an early hour, and set forward
for the village. About nine o'clock, when half way, they met a
canoe, on board of which were two Arickara dignitaries. One, a
fine-looking man, much above the common size, was hereditary
chief of the village; he was called the Left-handed, on account
of a personal peculiarity. The other, a ferocious-looking savage,
was the war chief, or generalissimo; he was known by the name of
the Big Man, an appellation he well deserved from his size, for
he was of a gigantic frame. Both were of fairer complexion than
is usual with savages.

They were accompanied by an interpreter; a French creole, one of
those haphazard wights of Gallic origin who abound upon our
frontiers, living among the Indians like one of their own race.
He had been twenty years among the Arickaras, had a squaw and
troop of piebald children, and officiated as interpreter to the
chiefs. Through this worthy organ the two dignitaries signified
to Mr. Hunt their sovereign intention to oppose the further
progress of the expedition up the river unless a boat were left
to trade with them. Mr. Hunt, in reply, explained the object of
his voyage, and his intention of debarking at their village and
proceeding thence by land; and that he would willingly trade with
them for a supply of horses for his journey. With this
explanation they were perfectly satisfied, and putting about,
steered for their village to make preparations for the reception
of the strangers.

The village of the Rikaras, Arickaras, or Ricarees, for the name
is thus variously written, is between the 46th and 47th parallels
of north latitude, and fourteen hundred and thirty miles above
the mouth of the Missouri. The party reached it about ten o'clock
in the morning, but landed on the opposite side of the river,
where they spread out their baggage and effects to dry. From
hence they commanded an excellent view of the village. It was
divided into two portions, about eighty yards apart, being
inhabited by two distinct bands. The whole extended about three-
quarters of a mile along the river bank, and was composed of
conical lodges, that looked like so many small hillocks, being
wooden frames intertwined with osier, and covered with earth. The
plain beyond the village swept up into hills of considerable
height, but the whole country was nearly destitute of trees.
While they were regarding the village, they beheld a singular
fleet coming down the river. It consisted of a number of canoes,
each made of a single buffalo hide stretched on sticks, so as to
form a kind of circular trough. Each one was navigated by a
single squaw, who knelt in the bottom and paddled; towing after
her frail bark a bundle of floating wood intended for firing.
This kind of canoe is in frequent use among the Indians; the
buffalo hide being readily made up into a bundle and transported
on horseback; it is very serviceable in conveying baggage across
the rivers.

The great number of horses grazing around the village, and
scattered over the neighboring hills and valleys, bespoke the
equestrian habit of the Arickaras, who are admirable horsemen.
Indeed, in the number of his horses consists the wealth of an
Indian of the prairies; who resembles an Arab in his passion for
this noble animal, and in his adroitness in the management of it.

After a time, the voice of the sovereign chief, "the Left-
handed," was heard across the river, announcing that the council
lodge was preparing, and inviting the white men to come over. The
river was half a mile in width, yet every word uttered by the
chieftain was heard; this may be partly attributed to the
distinct manner in which every syllable of the compound words in
the Indian language is articulated and accented; but in truth, a
savage warrior might often rival Achilles himself for force of
lungs. * (* Bradbury, p. 110.)

Now came the delicate point of management - how the two rival
parties were to conduct their visit to the village with proper
circumspection and due decorum. Neither of the leaders had spoken
to each other since their quarrel. All communication had been by
ambassadors. Seeing the jealousy entertained of Lisa, Mr.
Breckenridge, in his negotiation, had arranged that a deputation
from each party should cross the river at the same time, so that
neither would have the first access to the ear of the Arickaras.

The distrust of Lisa, however, had increased in proportion as
they approached the sphere of action; and M'Lellan, in
particular, kept a vigilant eye upon his motions, swearing to
shoot him if he attempted to cross the river first.

About two o'clock the large boat of Mr. Hunt was manned, and he
stepped on board, accompanied by Messrs. M'Kenzie and M'Lellan;
Lisa at the same time embarked in his barge; the two deputations
amounted in all to fourteen persons, and never was any movement
of rival potentates conducted with more wary exactness.

They landed amidst a rabble crowd, and were received on the bank
by the left-handed chief, who conducted them into the village
with grave courtesy; driving to the right and left the swarms of
old squaws, imp-like boys, and vagabond dogs, with which the
place abounded. They wound their way between the cabins, which
looked like dirt-heaps huddled together without any plan, and
surrounded by old palisades; all filthy in the extreme, and
redolent of villainous smells.

At length they arrived at the council lodge. It was somewhat
spacious, and formed of four forked trunks of trees placed
upright, supporting cross-beams and a frame of poles interwoven
with osiers, and the whole covered with earth. A hole sunken in
the center formed the fireplace, and immediately above was a
circular hole in the apex of the lodge, to let out the smoke and
let in the daylight. Around the lodge were recesses for sleeping,
like the berths on board ships, screened from view by curtains of
dressed skins. At the upper end of the lodge was a kind of
hunting and warlike trophy, consisting of two buffalo heads
garishly painted, surmounted by shields, bows, quivers of arrows,
and other weapons.

On entering the lodge the chief pointed to mats or cushions which
had been placed around for the strangers, and on which they
seated themselves, while he placed himself on a kind of stool. An
old man then came forward with the pipe of peace or good-
fellowship, lighted and handed it to the chief, and then falling
back, squatted himself near the door. The pipe was passed from
mouth to mouth, each one taking a whiff, which is equivalent to
the inviolable pledge of faith, of taking salt together among the
ancient Britons. The chief then made a sign to the old pipe-
bearer, who seemed to fill, likewise, the station of herald,
seneschal, and public crier, for he ascended to the top of the
lodge to make proclamation. Here he took his post beside the
aperture for the emission of smoke and the admission of light;
the chief dictated from within what he was to proclaim, and he
bawled it forth with a force of lungs that resounded over all the
village. In this way he summoned the warriors and great men to
council; every now and then reporting progress to his chief
through the hole in the roof.

In a little while the braves and sages began to enter one by one,
as their names were called or announced, emerging from under the
buffalo robe suspended over the entrance instead of a door,
stalking across the lodge to the skins placed on the floor, and
crouching down on them in silence. In this way twenty entered and
took their seats, forming an assemblage worthy of the pencil: for
the Arickaras are a noble race of men, large and well formed, and
maintain a savage grandeur and gravity of demeanor in their
solemn ceremonials.

All being seated, the old seneschal prepared the pipe of ceremony
or council, and having lit it, handed it to the chief. He inhaled
the sacred smoke, gave a puff upward to the heaven, then downward
to the earth, then towards the east; after this it was as usual
passed from mouth to mouth, each holding it respectfully until
his neighbor had taken several whiffs; and now the grand council
was considered as opened in due form.

The chief made an harangue welcoming the white men to his
village, and expressing his happiness in taking them by the hand
as friends; but at the same time complaining of the poverty of
himself and his people; the usual prelude among Indians to
begging or hard bargaining.

Lisa rose to reply, and the eyes of Hunt and his companions were
eagerly turned upon him, those of M'Lellan glaring like a
basilisk's. He began by the usual expressions of friendship, and
then proceeded to explain the object of his own party. Those
persons, however, said he, pointing to Mr. Hunt and his
companions, are of a different party, and are quite distinct in
their views; but, added he, though we are separate parties, we
make but one common cause when the safety of either is concerned.
Any injury or insult offered to them I shall consider as done to
myself, and will resent it accordingly. I trust, therefore, that
you will treat them with the same friendship that you have always
manifested for me, doing everything in your power to serve them
and to help them on their way. The speech of Lisa, delivered with
an air of frankness and sincerity, agreeably surprised and
disappointed the rival party.

Mr. Hunt then spoke, declaring the object of his journey to the
great Salt Lake beyond the mountains, and that he should want
horses for the purpose, for which he was ready to trade, having
brought with him plenty of goods. Both he and Lisa concluded
their speeches by making presents of tobacco.

The left-handed chieftain in reply promised his friendship and
aid to the new comers, and welcomed them to his village. He added
that they had not the number of horses to spare that Mr. Hunt
required, and expressed a doubt whether they should be able to
part with any. Upon this, another chieftain, called Gray Eyes,
made a speech, and declared that they could readily supply Mr.
Hunt with all the horses he might want, since, if they had not
enough in the village, they could easily steal more. This honest
expedient immediately removed the main difficulty; but the chief
deferred all trading for a day or two; until he should have time
to consult with his subordinate chiefs as to market rates; for
the principal chief of a village, in conjunction with his
council, usually fixes the prices at which articles shall be
bought and sold, and to them the village must conform.

The council now broke up. Mr. Hunt transferred his camp across
the river at a little distance below the village, and the left-
handed chief placed some of his warriors as a guard to prevent
the intrusion of any of his people. The camp was pitched on the
river bank just above the boats. The tents, and the men wrapped
in their blankets and bivouacking on skins in the open air,
surrounded the baggage at night. Four sentinels also kept watch
within sight of each other outside of the camp until midnight,
when they were relieved by four others who mounted guard until
daylight. Mr. Lisa encamped near to Mr. Hunt, between him and the
village.

The speech of Mr. Lisa in the council had produced a pacific
effect in the encampment. Though the sincerity of his friendship
and good-will towards the new company still remained matter of
doubt, he was no longer suspected of an intention to play false.
The intercourse between the two leaders was therefore resumed,
and the affairs of both parties went on harmoniously.

                          CHAPTER XXI.
                                
An Indian Horse Fair.- Love of the Indians for Horses- Scenes in
  the Arickara Village.-Indian Hospitality.- Duties of Indian
   Women. Game Habits of the Men.-Their  Indolence.-Love of
Gossiping. - Rumors of Lurking Enemies.- Scouts.- An Alarm.-A
Sallying Forth. -Indian Dogs.-Return of a Horse-Stealing Party.-
An Indian Deputation.-Fresh Alarms.-Return of a Successful War
Party.-Dress of the Arickaras.- Indian Toilet.- Triumphal Entry
of the War Party. - Meetings of Relations and Friends.-Indian
  Sensibility.- Meeting of a Wounded Warrior and His Mother.-
                 Festivities and Lamentations.

A TRADE now commenced with the Arickaras under the regulation and
supervision of their two chieftains. Lisa sent a part of his
goods to the lodge of the left-handed dignitary, and Mr. Hunt
established his mart in the lodge of the Big Man. The village
soon presented the appearance of a busy fair; and as horses were
in demand, the purlieus and the adjacent plain were like the
vicinity of a Tartar encampment; horses were put through all
their paces, and horsemen were careering about with that
dexterity and grace for which the Arickaras are noted. As soon as
a horse was purchased, his tail was cropped, a sure mode of
distinguishing him from the horses of the tribe; for the Indians
disdain to practice this absurd, barbarous, and indecent
mutilation, invented by some mean and vulgar mind, insensible to
the merit and perfections of the animal. On the contrary, the
Indian horses are suffered to remain in every respect the superb
and beautiful animals which nature formed them.

The wealth of an Indian of the far west consists principally in
his horses, of which each chief and warrior possesses a great
number, so that the plains about an Indian village or encampment
are covered with them. These form objects of traffic, or objects
of depredation, and in this way pass from tribe to tribe over
great tracts of country. The horses owned by the Arickaras are,
for the most part, of the wild stock of the prairies; some,
however, had been obtained from the Poncas, Pawnees, and other
tribes to the southwest, who had stolen them from the Spaniards
in the course of horse-stealing expeditions into Mexican
territories. These were to be known by being branded; a Spanish
mode of marking horses not practiced by the Indians.

As the Arickaras were meditating another expedition against their
enemies the Sioux, the articles of traffic most in demand were
guns, tomahawks, scalping-knives, powder, ball, and other
munitions of war. The price of a horse, as regulated by the
chiefs, was commonly ten dollars' worth of goods at first cost.
To supply the demand thus suddenly created, parties of young men
and braves had sallied forth on expeditions to steal horses; a
species of service among the Indians which takes precedence of
hunting, and is considered a department of honorable warfare.

While the leaders of the expedition were actively engaged in
preparing for the approaching journey, those who had accompanied
it for curiosity or amusement, found ample matter for observation
in the village and its inhabitants. Wherever they went they were
kindly entertained. If they entered a lodge, the buffalo robe was
spread before the fire for them to sit down; the pipe was
brought, and while the master of the lodge conversed with his
guests, the squaw put the earthen vessel over the fire well
filled with dried buffalo-meat and pounded corn; for the Indian
in his native state, before he has mingled much with white men,
and acquired their sordid habits, has the hospitality of the
Arab: never does a stranger enter his door without having food
placed before him; and never is the food thus furnished made a
matter of traffic.

The life of an Indian when at home in his village is a life of
indolence and amusement. To the woman is consigned the labors of
the household and the field; she arranges the lodge; brings wood
for the fire; cooks; jerks venison and buffalo meat; dresses the
skins of the animals killed in the chase; cultivates the little
patch of maize, pumpkins, and pulse, which furnishes a great part
of their provisions. Their time for repose and recreation is at
sunset, when the labors of the day being ended, they gather
together to amuse themselves with petty games, or to hold
gossiping convocations on the tops of their lodges.

As to the Indian, he is a game animal, not to be degraded by
useful or menial toil. It is enough that he exposes himself to
the hardships of the chase and the perils of war; that he brings
home food for his family, and watches and fights for its
protection. Everything else is beneath his attention. When at
home, he attends only to his weapons and his horses, preparing
the means of future exploit. Or he engages with his comrades in
games of dexterity, agility and strength; or in gambling games in
which everything is put at hazard with a recklessness seldom
witnessed in civilized life.

A great part of the idle leisure of the Indians when at home is
passed in groups, squatted together on the bank of a river, on
the top of a mound on the prairie, or on the roof of one of their
earth-covered lodges, talking over the news of the day, the
affairs of the tribe, the events and exploits of their last
hunting or fighting expedition; or listening to the stories of
old times told by some veteran chronicler; resembling a group of
our village quidnuncs and politicians, listening to the prosings
of some superannuated oracle, or discussing the contents of an
ancient newspaper.

As to the Indian women, they are far from complaining of their
lot. On the contrary, they would despise their husbands could
they stoop to any menial office, and would think it conveyed an
imputation upon their own conduct. It is the worst insult one
virago can cast upon another in a moment of altercation.
"Infamous woman!" will she cry, "I have seen your husband
carrying wood into his lodge to make the fire. Where was his
squaw, that he should be obliged to make a woman of himself! "

Mr. Hunt and his fellow-travellers had not been many days at the
Arickara village, when rumors began to circulate that the Sioux
had followed them up, and that a war party, four or five hundred
in number, were lurking somewhere in the neighborhood. These
rumors produced much embarrassment in the camp. The white hunters
were deterred from venturing forth in quest of game, neither did
the leaders think it proper to expose them to such a risk. The
Arickaras, too, who had suffered greatly in their wars with this
cruel and ferocious tribe, were roused to increased vigilance,
and stationed mounted scouts upon the neighboring hills. This,
however, is a general precaution among the tribes of the
prairies. Those immense plains present a horizon like the ocean,
so that any object of importance can be descried afar, and
information communicated to a great distance. The scouts are
stationed on the hills, therefore, to look out both for game and
for enemies, and are, in a manner, living telegraphs conveying
their intelligence by concerted signs. If they wish to give
notice of a herd of buffalo in the plain beyond, they gallop
backwards and forwards abreast, on the summit of the hill. If
they perceive an enemy at hand, they gallop to and fro, crossing
each other; at sight of which the whole village flies to arms.

Such an alarm was given in the afternoon of the 15th. Four scouts
were seen crossing and recrossing each other at full gallop, on
the summit of a hill about two miles distant down the river. The
cry was up that the Sioux were coming. In an instant the village
was in an uproar. Men, women, and children were all brawling and
shouting; dogs barking, yelping, and howling. Some of the
warriors ran for the horses to gather and drive them in from the
prairie, some for their weapons. As fast as they could arm and
equip they sallied forth; some on horseback, some on foot. Some
hastily arrayed in their war dress, with coronets of fluttering
feathers, and their bodies smeared with paint; others naked and
only furnished with the weapons they had snatched up. The women
and children gathered on the tops of the lodges and heightened
the confusion of the scene by their vociferation. Old men who
could no longer bear arms took similar stations, and harangued
the warriors as they passed, exhorting them to valorous deeds.
Some of the veterans took arms themselves, and sallied forth with
tottering steps. In this way, the savage chivalry of the village
to the number of five hundred, poured forth, helter-skelter,
riding and running, with hideous yells and war-whoops, like so
many bedlamites or demoniacs let loose.

After a while the tide of war rolled back, but with far less
uproar. Either it had been a false alarm, or the enemy had
retreated on finding themselves discovered, and quiet was
restored to the village. The white hunters continuing to be
fearful of ranging this dangerous neighborhood, fresh provisions
began to be scarce in the camp. As a substitute, therefore, for
venison and buffalo meat, the travellers had to purchase a number
of dogs to be shot and cooked for the supply of the camp.
Fortunately, however chary the Indians might be of their horses,
they were liberal of their dogs. In fact, these animals swarm
about an Indian village as they do about a Turkish town. Not a
family but has two or three dozen belonging to it, of all sizes
and colors; some of a superior breed are used for hunting;
others, to draw the sledge, while others, of a mongrel breed, and
idle vagabond nature, are fattened for food. They are supposed to
be descendant from the wolf, and retain something of his savage
but cowardly temper, howling rather than barking; showing their
teeth and snarling on the slightest provocation, but sneaking
away on the least attack.

The excitement of the village continued from day to day. On the
day following the alarm just mentioned, several parties arrived
from different directions, and were met and conducted by some of
the braves to the council lodge, where they reported the events
and success of their expeditions, whether of war or hunting;
which news was afterwards promulgated throughout the village, by
certain old men who acted as heralds or town criers. Among the
parties which arrived was one that had been among the Snake
nation stealing horses, and returned crowned with success. As
they passed in triumph through the village they were cheered by
the men, women, and children, collected as usual on the tops of
the lodges, and were exhorted by the Nesters of the village to be
generous in their dealings with the white men.

The evening was spent in feasting and rejoicing among the
relations of the successful warriors; but the sounds of grief and
wailing were heard from the hills adjacent to the village -the
lamentations of women who had lost some relative in the foray.

An Indian village is subject to continual agitations and
excitements. The next day arrived a deputation of braves from the
Cheyenne or Shienne nation; a broken tribe, cut up, like the
Arickaras, by wars with the Sioux, and driven to take refuge
among the Black Hills, near the sources of the Cheyenne River,
from which they derive their name. One of these deputies was
magnificently arrayed in a buffalo robe, on which various figures
were fancifully embroidered with split quills dyed red and
yellow; and the whole was fringed with the slender hoofs of young
fawns, that rattled as he walked.

The arrival of this deputation was the signal for another of
those ceremonials which occupy so much of Indian life; for no
being is more courtly and punctilious, and more observing of
etiquette and formality than an American savage.

The object of the deputation was to give notice of an intended
visit of the Shienne (or Cheyenne) tribe to the Arickara village
in the course of fifteen days. To this visit Mr. Hunt looked
forward to procure additional horses for his journey; all his
bargaining being ineffectual in obtaining a sufficient supply
from the Arickaras. Indeed, nothing could prevail upon the latter
to part with their prime horses, which had been trained to
buffalo hunting.

As Mr. Hunt would have to abandon his boats at this place, Mr.
Lisa now offered to purchase them, and such of his merchandise as
was superfluous, and to pay him in horses to be obtained at a
fort belonging to the Missouri Fur Company, situated at the
Mandan villages, about a hundred and fifty miles further up the
river. A bargain was promptly made, and Mr. Lisa and Mr. Crooks,
with several companions, set out for the fort to procure the
horses. They returned, after upwards of a fortnight's absence,
bringing with them the stipulated number of horses. Still the
cavalry was not sufficiently numerous to convey the party and
baggage and merchandise, and a few days more were required to
complete the arrangements for the journey.

On the 9th of July, just before daybreak, a great noise and
vociferation was heard in the village. This being the usual
Indian hour of attack and surprise, and the Sioux being known to
be in the neighborhood, the camp was instantly on the alert. As
the day broke Indians were descried in considerable number on the
bluffs, three or four miles down the river. The noise and
agitation in the village continued. The tops of the lodges were
crowded with the inhabitants, all earnestly looking towards the
hills, and keeping up a vehement chattering. Presently an Indian
warrior galloped past the camp towards the village, and in a
little while the legions began to pour forth.

The truth of the matter was now ascertained. The Indians upon the
distant hills were three hundred Arickara braves, returning home
from a foray. They had met the war party of Sioux who had been so
long hovering about the neighborhood, had fought them the day
before, killed several, and defeated the rest with the loss of
but two or three of their own men and about a dozen wounded; and
they were now halting at a distance until their comrades in the
village should come forth to meet them, and swell the parade of
their triumphal entry. The warrior who had galloped past the camp
was the leader of the party hastening home to give tidings of his
victory.

Preparations were now made for this great martial ceremony. All
the finery and equipments of the warriors were sent forth to
them, that they might appear to the greatest advantage. Those,
too, who had remained at home, tasked their wardrobes and toilets
to do honor to the procession.

The Arickaras generally go naked, but, like all savages, they
have their gala dress, of which they are not a little vain. This
usually consists of a gray surcoat and leggins of the dressed
skin of the antelope, resembling chamois leather, and embroidered
with porcupine quills brilliantly dyed. A buffalo robe is thrown
over the right shoulder, and across the left is slung a quiver of
arrows. They wear gay coronets of plumes, particularly those of
the swan; but the feathers of the black eagle are considered the
most worthy, being a sacred bird among the Indian warriors.

He who has killed an enemy in his own land, is entitled to drag
at his heels a fox-skin attached to each moccasin; and he who has
slain a grizzly bear, wears a necklace of his claws, the most
glorious trophy that a hunter can exhibit.

An Indian toilet is an operation of some toil and trouble; the
warrior often has to paint himself from head to foot, and is
extremely capricious and difficult to please, as to the hideous
distribution of streaks and colors. A great part of the morning,
therefore, passed away before there were any signs of the distant
pageant. In the meantime a profound stillness reigned over the
village. Most of the inhabitants had gone forth; others remained
in mute expectation. All sports and occupations were suspended,
excepting that in the lodges the painstaking squaws were silently
busied in preparing the repasts for the warriors.

It was near noon that a mingled sound of voices and rude music,
faintly heard from a distance, gave notice that the procession
was on the march. The old men and such of the squaws as could
leave their employments hastened forth to meet it. In a little
while it emerged from behind a hill, and had a wild and
picturesque appearance as it came movi