My Sixty Years on the Plains E-Book

William Thomas Hamilton

• Herausgeber: Enhanced Media Publishing
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

In his concise, richly detailed memoir My Sixty Years on the Plains fur-trapper W. T. Hamilton - also known as ‘Wildcat Bill’ - gives the reader a first-hand account of life outdoors in the Old West. From trailblazing to trading with Indians, Hamilton relates how a mountain man relied on his wits and specialized knowledge in order survive the inhospitable environments.

Leseprobe

My Sixty Years on the Plains

Trapping, Trading, and Indian Fighting

By William Thomas Hamilton

Table of Contents

Title Page

My Sixty Years on the Plains

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XXI

CHAPTER XXII

CHAPTER XXIII

CHAPTER XXIV

Further Reading: Hardtack and Coffee - The Unwritten Story of Army Life

My Sixty Years on the Plains - Trapping, Trading, and Indian Fighting by William Thomas Hamilton. First published in 1905. This edition published 2017 by Enhanced Media. All rights reserved.

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ISBN: 978-1-365-70889-3.

CHAPTER I

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On the river Till, in Cheviot Hills, Scotland, in the year 1825, twenty-five men formed a company for the purpose of emigrating. These men built themselves a bark, and when ready to sail held a council to determine whether their destination would be India or America. A vote was taken, which resulted in a tie, thus forcing the captain to cast his ballot. He voted for America, and by so doing destined me to fight Indians instead of hunting Bengal tigers in India. My father was one of the company, and his brother was the captain. I was just two years and ten months of age when we landed at New Orleans. My father had means and we travelled all over the States, finally settling in St. Louis eighteen months later. Here I remained until I was twenty years of age, receiving five years of schooling.

In the meantime chills and fevers were undermining my constitution, and the doctor ordered a change of climate. My father made arrangements with a party of hunters and trappers, who were in St. Louis at the time, to allow me to accompany them on their next trip, which would last a year.

The party consisted of eight men, all free trappers, with Bill Williams and Perkins as leaders. These two men had had fifteen years' experience on the plains amongst Indians, and had a wide reputation for fearless courage and daring exploits.

A good trading outfit was purchased, one third of which my father paid for, giving me a corresponding interest in the trip.

We started in the spring of 1842 with wagons and pack animals, making for Independence, Mo., which was the headquarters for all mountaineers in those days. At Independence we sold our wagons and rigged up a complete pack outfit, as our route would take us where it would be difficult for wagons to travel.

I was still wearing my city clothes, and mountain men present asked Williams what he was going to do with that city lad in the mountains. This remark cut me deeply, and I hurried to the frontier store and traded all my fine clothes, shirts, and dickeys, which were worn in those days, for two suits of the finest buckskin, such as these merchants always kept on hand to fleece greenhorns like myself, making five hundred per cent, profit in the trade. Next morning I appeared dressed a la prairie, and the old trappers noticed the change and said, "Williams, that boy of yours will make a mountaineer if he catches on at this rate."

We all went to work getting our pack outfit ready, which was accomplished before night. Next morning, the 15th of March, 1842, we started, bidding adieu to the remaining mountain men, who were all making preparations to start on their different routes for trapping and trading. The trappers and traders of that day were brave and reckless men, who never gave a second thought to the danger in their calling.

We made good time and reached Salt Creek on March 20th. Camp had just been made when we saw in the distance a small herd of buffalo coming directly towards us. Williams gave orders to corral all stock. No second order was needed with these mountain men, who acted in unison like a flash when occasion called for action. The stock was barely secured when the buffalo passed in close vicinity of camp, followed by thirty painted Kiowa warriors. A wild and savage-looking outfit they were. I had seen many Indians in St. Louis at different times, but none so wild and savage as these were. It was at this time that I received my first lesson in how to deal with wild Indians, or, more properly speaking, how to control their overt acts.

Our packs were placed in a triangle, answering in case of need to a good breastwork. Each man was armed with a rifle, two pistols, a tomahawk, and a large knife, commonly called "tooth-picker." Besides this, two of our men had bows and arrows, and were experts with them.

The Indians came up and examined our outfit and demanded pay for passing through their country. Williams gave them to understand that they could not go through the outfit, nor would they receive pay for passing through the country, informing them that this was Pawnee country. The Kiowas at that time were semi hostile, robbing and killing when it could be done with impunity.

I stood by Williams during the parley, much interested in the conversation, which was entirely by signs. The rest of the men were in what we called our fort, with stern and savage looks on their faces.

Williams was well up in Indian ways and treatment in any and every emergency, and finally gave the leader, or chief, as he called himself, some tobacco. They departed, looking daggers at us.

Williams informed me that there was no chief in the outfit, and that it was only a small thieving party led by a young brave, who had two feathers stuck in his scalp-lock.

We kept close watch during the night, expecting that the Indians would attempt to steal some of our stock or attack camp. Old experienced mountain men leave nothing to chance. Many outfits, within my knowledge, have come to grief through placing confidence in the red man, who always covets the belongings of the paleface.

Nothing disturbed us during the night, and in the morning we started down Salt Creek to the Platte River, where Williams expected to find Cheyennes, hoping to trade them out of some furs. We travelled up the Platte River to Cherry Creek, seeing plenty of fresh Indian signs, but no Indians.

The camp was kept well supplied with buffalo and antelope steak and ribs. The ribs are specially fine, and are highly appreciated by every one, whether mountaineer or dweller in civilization.

We camped on the North Platte River about two miles below where Cherry Creek empties; and about sundown three young Indians, who had been scouting for hostiles, rode into camp. They were Cheyennes, and the very ones that Williams was looking for, as they were generally well supplied with all kinds of furs. The Indians told us that their village was a short distance up the creek. Williams gave them tobacco for their chief, old White Antelope, and told them that we would visit the village on the following day. He then invited them to supper for the purpose of finding out what the tribe was most in need of, which is quite a trick in trading with Indians, though I believe the same rule works with white men. At all events, I never knew it to fail to bring a good trade.

We packed up early the following morning, but not before a few Indians had paid us a visit. They were elated at our coming, for they were acquainted with Williams and Perkins, with whom they had often traded, and were on what is called friendly terms. Perkins was the equal of Williams in knowledge of Indian science and, like him, was brave, cool, and ready in extreme danger.

We arrived at the village about eleven o'clock, preceded by our leaders, who wished to select the most advantageous camp, as it was our intention to remain several days.

We unpacked and put up a wall tent, which we used for a store. Our stock was put in the chief's care; and we supplied the women with all the necessaries for a feast. This is always customary if you wish to stand well, and must be given offhand and with generous impulse. Indians are close observers, and if they see that you give with a niggardly hand, they will say, "These white men love their goods, and will give us poor trade. Let's trade nothing but our poorest furs." Such an unfavorable condition must be avoided at any cost, as any trader will agree who has had experience among Indians.

Williams and Perkins had but a limited knowledge of sign-language, but sufficient to do the trading. All these signs I learned easily, much to their astonishment. They both claimed that they would never become experts, but that if I kept on in the way I had started I would soon be the most perfect of any white man on the plains. It came to me without any effort and certainly surprised me. The other men had been observing my aptness and were astonished. They were indifferent sign-talkers, but good in everything else that goes to make a thorough mountaineer. It has always appeared strange to me that so many intelligent men, who had been for so many years among Indians, trading and otherwise, were so deficient in knowledge of sign-language. Some assert that facility in the language is due to linguistic talent; but be that as it may, as I said before, the art was acquired by me without any effort.

All the principal chiefs assembled in White Antelope's lodge, where the customary smoke was indulged in, during which we were questioned as to what our outfit consisted of. Then came the feast, which included buffalo tongue, the choicest of meats, coffee, hardtack, and molasses. This last article is a favorite with all Indians.

In the meantime, Noble, Docket, and myself spread on blankets the various goods which Williams had selected for this trade,—powder, half-ounce balls, flints, beads, paint, blue and scarlet cloths, blankets, calico, and knives.

A certain rule must be complied with in trading with Indians, which is that you must not pay one Indian—man or woman—one iota more for a robe or fur of the same quality than you pay another. If you do, you ruin your trade and create antagonistic feelings throughout the village.

The Indians stood in need of all the articles named, and by sundown our tent was full of furs of the finest quality. We then adjourned for supper, which was prepared by the women.

After supper I accompanied the chief's son, Swift Runner, through the village. He was about my own age and took a great liking to me, taking considerable pains in teaching me signs. He introduced me to all the leading men in the village, telling them that I was his friend. I took special notice of a tall young boy with a particularly large nose, a magnificent specimen of a coming warrior. He was known as Big Nose; but I firmly believe he was the famous Roman Nose, who was killed by General Forsyth on the Republican River in 1868.

Swift Runner told me that a large hunting party was going to start the next morning after buffalo; and that if I would like to go he would furnish me with a good buffalo horse. I asked permission of Williams, and he consented, saying, "All right, boy; you can take my horse; he is one of the best buffalo horses on the plains." I thanked him, saying that Swift Runner had promised me one of his. The evening passed very pleasantly for me, as the young folks entertained me to the best of their ability.

I was considered fairly good-looking, with smooth face, agile and quick in movements. I was the youngest child and my parents had allowed me every indulgence. They owned a farm just outside of St. Louis, and I always claimed that I was a country raised boy. Foxes, deer, and coons were in abundance, and it followed that every boy would own a pony, providing, of course, that the parents could afford it. At all events, I possessed one of the best mustangs in Missouri—a little devil, which would kick at everything and everybody who approached him except myself. My brothers would say that we were a well-matched pair, both little devils. At home we indulged in all kinds of athletic exercises, such as dumb-bells, boxing, trapeze, and single-stick; and then we had constant practice with rifle and pistol, in all of which I became very proficient. I believe that all boys should be taught in the same way. It is productive of longevity, all things being physically equal. I am at this writing past eighty-one, straight as an arrow, supple and quick. I have never had use for glasses. Almost every day some one asks me to what I attribute my suppleness and eyesight, and I answer that "common-sense philosophy conforms to the teachings of hygiene."

CHAPTER II

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The next morning, before daylight, fifty hunters and about twenty squaws with pack animals were assembled, ready to start on the buffalo hunt.

We travelled about ten miles, when the scouts discovered a herd and reported their location to the hunting chief. He was thoroughly acquainted with the topography of the country and led us on a long detour, so as to get on the leeward side of the herd. As soon as we reached there, the Indians stripped to breech-clout and advanced, leading their running horses.

The chief now divided the hunters in two divisions, in order to get what buffalo were wanted in the smallest possible area. It is necessary to approach as close as possible before raising the herd, for when raised they travel fast and no laggard of a horse can overtake them.

Generally each division has a leader, who gives the order to go. We rode to within a quarter of a mile of the herd before the word was given.

Here would have been a grand scene for an artist to put on canvas—this wild array of naked Indians, sending forth yell after yell and riding like demons in their eagerness to bring down the first buffalo. For this is quite a feat and is commented upon by the whole village.

Swift Runner and his cousin had the fastest horses in our division and brought down the first buffalo, much to the chagrin of many a young brave, who coveted that honor that they might receive smiles from their lady loves.

My pony was close, on the heels of the leaders, and Swift Runner pointed out a fat cow for me. In a few jumps I was alongside and fired, greenhorn like, at the cow's kidneys. As luck would have it, however, I broke her back and she dropped. Swift Runner gave a yell of delight at my success. I should have put the shot just behind the shoulder.

There was yelling and shooting in every direction; and many riderless ponies were mixed in with the buffalo, with Indians after them, reckless if they in turn were dismounted as their friends had been, by the ponies stepping into prairie-dog or badger holes. Many an Indian has come to grief by having an arm or leg broken in this way. Ponies are sure-footed, but in a run such as this one, where over a thousand buffalo are tearing at full speed over the prairie, a dust is created which makes it impossible for the ponies to see the holes, hence the mishaps, which are very common.

All the meat required lay in an area of three quarters of a mile. I had brought down four and received great praise from the Indians. I could have done much better, but, boy-like, I wanted to see the Indians shoot their arrows, which many of them used. One arrow was sufficient to bring the buffalo to its knees. They shot behind the shoulder, sending the arrow deep enough to strike the lungs. One shot there is enough for any animal in the United States.

Now came the butchering, which was completed in two hours, and each pony was packed with three hundred pounds of the choicest of meat.

Several Indians who had been thrown, limped somewhat, but none were seriously hurt.

We arrived at the village about sundown and found the whole tribe lined up to greet us and to ascertain how successful we had been.

A feast had been prepared and was awaiting our coming; and as for myself, I was "wolfish," —which is a mountain man's expression for hungry,—for I had tasted no food since five o'clock in the morning.

After supper incidents of the hunt were gone over, and listened to with interest by all. Our party congratulated me warmly on my success, and it was commented on also by the Indians, which pleased the boys immensely. If a white man fails to acquit himself creditably it invariably casts a reflection on all whites.

The Cheyennes were and are today a proud and brave people. Their domestic habits were commendable and could be followed to advantage by many white families. To violate the marriage vow meant death or mutilation. This is a rule which does not apply to all tribes. Meat is their principal food, although berries of different kinds are collected in season, as well as various roots. The kettle is on the tripod night and day. They use salt when they can get it, and are very fond of molasses, sugar, coffee, and flour. They are hospitable to those whom they respect, and the reverse to those for whom they have contempt.

Most tribes of plains Indians dry their meat by cutting it in thin flakes and spreading it on racks and poles in the sun; although in damp or wet weather it is put inside of lodges, where it will dry, but not so well as in the sun. Mountain men follow the same practice and use the meat when game is scarce, and this often occurs.

Pemmican is manufactured in the following manner. The choicest cuts of meat are selected and cut into flakes and dried. Then all the marrow is collected and the best of the tallow, which are dissolved together over a slow fire to prevent burning. Many tribes use berries in their pemmican. Mountaineers always do unless they have sugar. The meat is now pulverized to the consistency of mincemeat; the squaws generally doing this on a flat rock, using a pestle, many specimens of which may be seen on exhibition in museums. A layer of meat is spread, about two inches thick, the squaws using a wooden dipper, a buffalo horn, or a claw for this work. On this meat is spread a certain amount of the ingredients made from the marrow and tallow, the proportion depending on the taste. This same process is repeated until the required amount is secured. One pound of pemmican is equal to five pounds of meat.

Buffalo tongues are split the long way and dried for future use, and thus prepared are a delicacy fit for a prince.

Another important article of food, the equal of which is not to be had except from the buffalo, is "depuyer" (dipouille). It is a fat substance that lies along the backbone, next to the hide, running from the shoulder-blade to the last rib, and is about as thick as one's hand or finger. It is from seven to eleven inches broad, tapering to a feather edge on the lower side. It will weigh from five to eleven pounds, according to the size and condition of the animal. This substance is taken off and dipped in hot grease for half a minute, then is hung up inside of a lodge to dry and smoke for twelve hours. It will keep indefinitely, and is used as a substitute for bread, but is superior to any bread that was ever made. It is eaten with the lean and dried meat, and is tender and sweet and very nourishing, for it seems to satisfy the appetite. When going on the war-path the Indians would take some dried meat and some depuyer to live on, and nothing else, not even if they were to be gone for months.

I have been asked many times regarding depuyer by different ones who have been astonished when told of its merits as a substitute for other food, and surprised that it was so little known except by mountain men and Indians. Trappers would pay a dollar a pound for it, and I do not believe that bread would bring that price unless one were starving. As I have said, it is a substitute for bread; and when you are invited to an Indian lodge your host will present you with depuyer just as you would present bread to a guest. You may be sure should they fail to present you with depuyer that you are an unwelcome guest.

Williams concluded to move the next day, so he traded for a few ponies, sufficient to pack the furs for which we had traded.

When we were ready to start, the leading chiefs assembled to say good-bye ("how"), and the women presented me with a half-dozen pairs of beautifully embroidered moccasins. This tribe excels all others in bead-work as well as in garnishing and painting robes. One must bear in mind, however, that the Cheyennes of 1842 must not be classed with the Cheyennes of today.

When I parted from my young Indian friend Swift Runner, he presented to me the pony which I had ridden on the buffalo hunt. I named him Runner.

CHAPTER III

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It was the intention of Williams to strike for the South Platte River, in the vicinity of Laramie River, where he expected to meet with fur buyers, who would be returning to Green River; and either to dispose of our furs or have them forwarded to St. Louis, which at that time was the principal fur-buying city in the United States.

A few days' travel brought us to the South Platte River, and at a point fifteen miles east of Laramie River we found a Sioux village. Big Thunder was the chief, and he requested us to camp as his people wanted to trade. The Sioux were friendly in those days, especially to traders and trappers, and we had a royal time.

Just before daylight the following morning, an alarm was given in the village and all the men hurried out, to find that the Pawnees— mortal enemies of the Sioux—had run off about one hundred head of ponies which had been turned out to graze a short distance from camp. The number included two mules and three ponies belonging to our outfit.

As soon as the news was received, fifty young warriors hastened to saddle their best ponies. Williams signified his intention of going, but I told him that he was too old, and that Noble and myself would go and bring back the stock.

We started with the Indians, under the leadership of Young Thunder, a fine specimen of a coming chief. I rode my pony Runner.

We soon struck the trail of the Pawnees and followed it down the south side about ten miles, and then crossed to the north side of the river. We could tell by the appearance of the trail that they were only a short distance ahead of us.

The Sioux now discarded all their clothing, excepting leggings and breech-clouts, and mounted their war-horses, which had up to this point been led.

I put a pad on my Runner. These pads are made by filling two sacks with antelope hair. The sacks are generally made of buckskin, are seven or eight inches in diameter, and rest on each side of the horse's backbone, being sewed together on top with buckskin. Material is fastened to each side for stirrups and cinch. They would be a curiosity in the East, but are light and elastic, and a horse feels no inconvenience from them and can travel twenty miles farther in a day than under a saddle.

We started at a canter, Young Thunder in the lead. After going about eight miles, we noticed that sand was still sliding in the hoof tracks ahead. This was a sure indication that the Pawnees were but a short distance in advance. We now went at about half speed, the Indians becoming alert.

Passing over a divide we could plainly see a cloud of dust about two miles in advance. At about the same time the Pawnees must have discovered us, for there appeared a scattering just as if stock was being urged to greater speed.

We gained rapidly on the Pawnees, and were soon close enough to determine that the party consisted of twelve. They were trying their best to get the herd to a cottonwood grove on a bend of the Platte River.

It was at this time that I discovered the wonderful endurance of the Indian pony. Young Thunder gave a war-whoop, [...]