Finding him at his camp in Green River valley, he immediately furnished himself withthe supplies; put himself at the head of the free trappers and Delawares, and set offwith all speed, determined to follow hard upon the heels of Fitzpatrick and Bridger. Ofthe adventures of these parties among the mountains, and the disastrous effects oftheir competition, we shall have occasion to treat in a future chapter.
Fontenelle having now delivered his supplies and accomplished his errand, struck histents and set off on his return to the Yellowstone. Captain Bonneville and his band,therefore, remained alone in the Green River valley; and their situation might have beenperilous, had the Blackfeet band still lingered in the vicinity. Those marauders, however,had been dismayed at finding so many resolute and well-appointed parties of whitemen in the neighborhood. They had, therefore, abandoned this part of the country,passing over the headwaters of the Green River, and bending their course towards theYellowstone. Misfortune pursued them. Their route lay through the country of theirdeadly enemies, the Crows. In the Wind River valley, which lies east of the mountains,they were encountered by a powerful war party of that tribe, and completely put to rout.
Forty of them were killed, many of their women and children captured, and thescattered fugitives hunted like wild beasts until they were completely chased out of theCrow country.
On the 22d of August Captain Bonneville broke up his camp, and set out on his routefor Salmon River. His baggage was arranged in packs, three to a mule, or pack-horse;one being disposed on each side of the animal and one on the top; the three forming aload of from one hundred and eighty to two hundred and twenty pounds. This is thetrappers' style of loading pack-horses; his men, however, were inexpert at adjusting thepacks, which were prone to get loose and slip off, so that it was necessary to keep arear-guard to assist in reloading. A few days' experience, however, brought them intoproper training.
Their march lay up the valley of the Seeds-ke-dee, overlooked to the right by the loftypeaks of the Wind River Mountains. From bright little lakes and fountain-heads of thisremarkable bed of mountains poured forth the tributary streams of the Seeds-ke-dee.
Some came rushing down gullies and ravines; others tumbled in crystal cascades frominaccessible clefts and rocks, and others winding their way in rapid and pellucidcurrents across the valley, to throw themselves into the main river. So transparent werethese waters that the trout with which they abounded could be seen gliding about as ifin the air; and their pebbly beds were distinctly visible at the depth of many feet. Thisbeautiful and diaphanous quality of the Rocky Mountain streams prevails for a long timeafter they have mingled their waters and swollen into important rivers.
Issuing from the upper part of the valley, Captain Bonneville continued to the east-northeast,across rough and lofty ridges, and deep rocky defiles, extremely fatiguingboth to man and horse. Among his hunters was a Delaware Indian who had remainedfaithful to him. His name was Buckeye. He had often prided himself on his skill andsuccess in coping with the grizzly bear, that terror of the hunters. Though crippled in theleft arm, he declared he had no hesitation to close with a wounded bear, and attack himwith a sword. If armed with a rifle, he was willing to brave the animal when in full forceand fury. He had twice an opportunity of proving his prowess, in the course of thismountain journey, and was each time successful. His mode was to seat himself uponthe ground, with his rifle cocked and resting on his lame arm. Thus prepared, he wouldawait the approach of the bear with perfect coolness, nor pull trigger until he was closeat hand. In each instance, he laid the monster dead upon the spot.
