Online Book Reader

Home Category

Personal Memoirs-2 [109]

By Root 647 0
navigation on the Missouri River, on the way

passing through Fort Shaw, on Sun River. I expected to take at

Benton a steamboat to Fort Stevenson, a military post which had been

established about eighty miles south of Fort Buford, near a

settlement of friendly Mandan and Arickaree Indians, to protect them

from the hosiile Sioux. From there I was to make my way overland,

first to Fort Totten near Devil's lake in Dakota, and thence by way

of Fort Abercrombie to Saint Cloud, Minnesota, the terminus of the

rallroad.



Luckily I met with no delay in getting a boat at Benton, and though

the water was extremely low, we steamed down the channel of the

Missouri with but slight detention till we got within fifty miles of

Fort Buford. Here we struck on a sandbar with such force of steam

and current as to land us almost out of the water from stem to

midships. This bad luck was tantalizing, for to land on a bar when

your boat is under full headway down-stream in the Missouri River is

no trifling matter, especially if you want to make time, for the

rapid and turbid stream quickly depositing sand under the hull, makes

it commonly a task of several days to get your boat off again. As

from our mishap the loss of much time was inevitable, I sent a

messenger to Fort Buford for a small escort, and for horses to take

my party in to the post. Colonel Morrow, the commandant, came

himself to meet us, bringing a strong party of soldiers and some

friendly Indian scouts, because, he said, there were then in the

region around Buford so many treacherous band of Sioux as to make

things exceedingly unsafe.



Desiring to reach the post without spending more than one night on

the way, we abandoned our steamer that evening, and set off at an

early hour the next morning. We made camp at the end of the day's

march within ten miles of Buford, and arrived at the post without

having had any incident of moment, unless we may dignify as one a

battle with three grizzly bears, discovered by our friendly Indians

the morning of our second day's journey. While eating our breakfast-

-a rather slim one, by the way--spread on a piece of canvas, the

Indians, whose bivouac was some distance off, began shouting

excitedly, "Bear! bear!" and started us all up in time to see, out on

the plain some hundreds of yards away, an enormous grizzly and two

almost full-grown cubs. Chances like this for a bear hunt seldom

offered, so there was hurried mounting--the horses being already

saddled--and a quick advance made on the game from many directions,

Lieutenant Townsend, of the escort, and five or six of the Indians

going with me. Alarmed by the commotion, bruin and her cubs turned

about, and with an awkward yet rapid gait headed for a deep ravine,

in which there was brushwood shelter.



My party rode directly across the prairie and struck the trail not

far behind the game. Then for a mile or more the chase was kept up,

but with such poor shooting because of the "buck fever" which had

seized most of us, that we failed to bring down any of the grizzlies,

though the cubs grew so tired that the mother was often obliged to

halt for their defense, meanwhile urging them on before her. When

the ravine was gained she hid the cubs away in the thick brushwood,

and then coming out where we could plainly see her, stood on the

defense just within the edge of the thicket, beyond the range of our

rifles though, unless we went down into the canyon, which we would

have to do on foot, since the precipitous wall precluded going on

horseback. For an adventure like this I confess I had little

inclination, and on holding a council of war, I found that the

Indians had still less, but Lieutenant Townsend, who was a fine shot,

and had refrained from firing hitherto in the hope that I might bag

the game, relieved the embarrassing situation and saved the credit of

the party by going down alone to attack the enemy.
Return Main Page Previous Page Next Page

®Online Book Reader