While on this route between
Fort Benton and Sun River we were visited by a most unique storm. I had
lived out of doors the most of my life, and had been in and through many
storms. However, this one, in certain quality, was at the top in our
experience. It was a very hot day, and calm and still. We had started early,
and, having made two drives, were now about to unhitch for our second spell
when I noticed a strange cloud in the northwest, and saw that this was
approaching us rapidly. I shouted to our men to form into corral quickly and
unharness as smartly as possible. I had four mules and four horses to
unharness myself, and made all the haste I could, and was springing to make
the corral as strong as we could by interlocking the wheels of the carts and
wagons, when there fell near me a chunk of ice as big as a large hen's egg.
I had seen many hailstorms,
all across Eastern Canada and in the North-West, but no such hailstones as
this one I held in my hand. Our boys were rounding up the stock to drive
them into the corral, when down came another and another of these chunks of
ice. I shouted to our men to let the stock go, and for them to take shelter,
and in a twinkling we were crouching under our carts and wagons, and the
wildest hailstorm I had seen was upon us. The crash and roar was dreadful,
and it seemed as if everything exposed must perish.
Very soon the whole valley
was covered with ice and water, and the storm was passed, and we looked in
vain for a single hoof of stock. I expected to see some dead, but there were
none, either dead or alive, in sight anywhere. The furious storm had driven
all before it, and here we were, without even a saddle horse. Nearby to us
were a lot of Montana freighters, and they were in like predicament. My
first thought was to follow the course of the storm, and away I ran, taking
up one of my old strides when after the dogs in the North country. All I had
with me was my revolver and a light riding bridle. I ran some miles before I
came upon any of the stock.
Among the first lot I came to
was one of my horses, easy to catch, and, having mounted him, I pushed on,
passing several groups of horses and mules and some oxen. When I could not
see or track any beyond in that direction, I turned and started gathering up
and driving back everything I found towards camp. The first man I met was
Kenny, and he and I rounded up the big bunch of promiscuous stock, and
bringing these in, we saddled up and regularly organized for the hunt; but
it was the afternoon of the third day after the storm before we had all our
stock found, and we thought ourselves very fortunate indeed in not losing
any. In the meantime the sun had shone out and the roads dried up, and all
the earth was fresh and green and happy, just as if there were never any
storms to disturb.
On we went, and I very well
remember our coming out upon the summit looking down on the Valley of Sun
River. Approximately, it would be from twelve to fifteen miles across to the
limit of our range of vision on the sister summit, and from fifteen to
twenty miles up and down the valley which I could cover with my eye as I
surveyed the plain before me.
Immediately opposite to our
gentle descent was the annual round-up--cattle and horses and cowmen and
dust. As I found out later in the day from Mr. Robert Ford, who was the
captain of the roundup, there were over twenty-three thousand head of cattle
in the bunch down there at our feet. These were being held for the "cut-out"
in a natural corral made by the eccentric windings of the river. This spot
on which these twenty-three thousand cattle and horses and men were situated
was, in the landscape before me, about as a single fly would be on the
ceiling of a large audience room.
Several times in my
wanderings I had found myself on the summits of hills much higher than those
at Sun River, and commanding a wider expanse, and the whole country was like
a tremendous roundup. The cattle of God had gathered upon these spots, and,
while what I had seen I knew would be but a small fraction of the whole
herd, nevertheless, here were millions. Many times, from hills and range
summits, I had seen more than half a million of buffalo at one time, judging
of the number of cattle before me and of the shape of the country they were
in. As I beheld them that glorious day in 1875, I was abundantly assured
that my statement was a very modest estimate.
Passing through the Sun River
Settlement, we turned north and again bade good-bye for the year to the
evidences of civilization so called, and anything like permanent settlement.
Ours once more to face the wilderness, and in every wise to guard against
our fellow-men and struggle with Nature and her forces as best we could. We
still recognized the necessity of constant vigilance, and as Tom Robinson
remained with me, whom my readers will remember as the young Nova Scotian
who joined my party in 1874,- and who was developing as a frontiersman, and
had proved himself most reliable, we relieved him of any day work and put
him on as an extra and constant "night man." From sunset to sunrise he was
always on duty. The rest of us travelled and slept when we might, in our
clothes, and with our arms forever with us.
We were quite conscious of
extra danger on this trip because of the resentment of whiskey traders and
adventurers who blamed us for bringing in the police, and also of laying
information against some of their people. Threats from these men had come to
our ears, and now it was not the Indians of many tribes only, but also with
them, the more resentful and debased of the white men, we had to guard
against.
Feeling all this, we
travelled with great care steadily northward. Every night we made a strong
corral with our wagons and carts, and the last thing at night put the most
valuable of our stock in there. Then, with early morning, we harnessed up
and made, if possible, some miles before breakfast. Sometimes a swamp or a
creek bottom would delay us for hours. Then an axle would break, or a felloe
split, or a tire roll off. All these things did and would happen, and were
as so many delays and trouble.
To travel and lift and work
on the steady jump from daylight until dark; then to be under a tense,
nervous strain, waking and dreaming and sleeping, all the night, was our
regular life. There was nothing for it but to brace up or give up, and as we
did not intend to give up, we just braced up and went on. However, I can
very well remember that there were times during those young summer days when
to me this life was splendid, and old mother earth most glorious.
Now, it was morning, and as I
walked beside my team of mules and horses or rode in the saddle on the nigh
wheeler, the sun flooded the mountain ranges and made the foothills
resplendent, and on herb and grass and blossom the dewdrops glistened and
the atmosphere was fresh and fragrant, and I drew it in and filled my lungs
and sang. Then care and weariness and a longing for home and loved ones
would drop for the time, and as with Nature, around and about and above as
well as beneath, my heart was glad. Or it might be that we were now rolling
out from our noon spell, which had been full of work as well as refreshing,
and as we beheld the immense region we were travelling through, at this time
unpeopled, but full of latent possibilities and capable of carrying great
populations, I would let my fancy run, and thus I saw the coming in of many
peoples and the blending of races and the making of nations, for here were
the great United States, and yonder also the great Dominion of Canada.
Here was the splendid room
reserved throughout the ages for the giving to man a fresh opportunity of
redeeming himself as one worthy of dwelling in such a world as this. Again,
it was evening, and the sun was dropping on the mountains. Already the big
plains were delicately shaded and slowly darkened. Here and there in spots
the foothills were catching haloes of golden light; and even as we watched,
these were blotting out, while still the mountain heights were full of
glory. Yet this was, like all things material, passing quickly; but oh, the
beauty of its passing! Fleecy clouds and snow-clad peaks blending under the
concentration of the King's intense gaze thereon. It was as if both sun and
earth, as they said "Good-night," truly blushed and gave color to all things
seen.
While nooning one day, and
still south of the line, there came upon us suddenly, as if out of nowhere,
a troop of young Piegans. They saw at once that we were not surprised, for
every boy and man in our party had his arms in hand, though the suddenness
of their appearing surprised and amazed us because of this consummate
ability to take what cover the undulations of the land gave.
It would take any white man I
ever knew generations of constant practice to thus be able to approach and
not be felt nor 'seen. But here they were, and we acted as if such
visitations were common. Being spokesman, I welcomed them to our camp. In
numbers they were more than us, and we could see how minutely they were
taking stock of our equipment and personnel. As was our invariable custom,
we treated them courteously, and before we parted I was much amused to have
one of them who, in dress and paints and general appearance, was exceedingly
aboriginal, speak to me in regular "Yankee twang."
"I say, boss, when are you
going to pull out? Where do you belong? Where are you going to camp
to-night?" When I had answered him I ventured to enquire as to where he had
learned his English, and he answered that he had been "A-bullwhacking
between Benton and Helena."
It was interesting to note
how this young Indian was forced to contort his face and work his mouth and
voice functions in order to give out the nasal sound he believed was
essential to the use of English. In his own tongue he was natural.
Our boys and men were greatly
amused to hear English thus spoken, and for many a day we could hear them
trying to imitate this young student of a strange language. This visit
intensified our vigilance and also qualified our conceit in our frontier
craft. |