The Saga of Harlan Waugh (The Mountain Men) (15 page)

Then Runs Fast spoke: “I am not sure what to say. Yesterday you surprised and honored me at the same time. Today I have a new life, an honorable one, and for that I thank you and the Great Spirit. You were right. Autumn Flower and I do have eyes and hearts for each other. I wish to make her my wife and her child my child as well. Autumn Flower feels the same way. My only hope is that you will let this union happen so we can live happily forever.”

Harlan said nothing as Runs Fast spoke to his true nature and from the heart. Then Harlan said sternly, “If you two become man and wife, that will be up to her, for she is her own woman in this family. I have no problem with what you propose, but again that is up to her. But I do welcome you to our family for many reasons. The main one is for you to become one of my sons.”

The other cabin door opened, and out walked a smiling Big Eagle and Winter Hawk, closely followed by Autumn Flower. She kept her eyes to the ground in a typical Indian sign of respect as she prepared coffee and Dutch-oven biscuits and helped her sister with the meat.

Yes, thought Harlan, today is going to be a good day and the start of a new future for this family.

The rest of that day was spent getting Runs Fast settled into the regimen of the family. First he was provided with one of their reserve Hawkens, primer caps, nipple picks, nipples, powder horn, bullets, and wadding. Then the training in the use and care of weapons began because he had not been allowed to use firearms in his life with the Snakes.

By the end of the day, he could hold his own in shooting, reloading, and caring for the big Hawken. Harlan realized the young man was a natural frontiersman and as a result poured the training into him. In the interim, the boys cut and limbed a dozen lodge-pole pine saplings that were fifteen or so feet long. Taking one of the tepee skins from the two they had obtained from the dead trappers, they assembled Runs Fast’s first home, placing it next to their cabins with the opening facing to the east.

Next Harlan broke out the “possibles” any good mountain man would need to carry in order to survive. That included a powder horn for Runs Fast’s Hawken and another for his two pistols. Tins of caps, extra nipples, nipple picks, bullet molds, bullets, a gutting knife, and several skinning knives came next. Those were followed by a sharpening stone, steel and flint for fire making, twelve beaver traps, a tomahawk, and two .79-caliber horse pistols. Runs Fast sat there in awe, looking at the small fortune in goods being placed before him.

“Now,” said Harlan, “take good care of your gear, and it will serve you well.” He continued, “The women are, as we speak, supplying your tepee with those sleeping skins and other goods you and Autumn Flower need. Anything that is missed can be procured from our supplies in the cabins.”

Runs Fast just continued to sit there in a daze. Having come from a life of slavery to one of equality and eventually to that of a free trapper was without a doubt a heady yet humbling experience. Then Autumn Flower, without a word, arrived and took all her man’s possibles and gear, removing them to their tepee.

Yes, thought Harlan, life sure is going to change around here—and surely for the better!

Chapter Seventeen

Leaving Their Valley and the 1832 Rendezvous

Swinging around in the saddle, Harlan took one last look at what had been their home for the past two good years. For the previous month, the family had prepared for this day, and now that everything was in order, they were on the move. A pack string of ten horses and ten heavily loaded mules was strung out behind Harlan, carrying the family’s goods and stores. At the end of the string of livestock rode the ever-alert Big Eagle.

Riding alongside the string were Winter Hawk on one side and Runs Fast on the other. The two women and baby rode directly behind Harlan for the protection he could offer in the event of an attack. Harlan grinned widely as he surveyed the scene. They had had a good trapping season and now had more than enough goods for trade for another year in the wilderness.

My family has grown to a total of four men, and woe to anyone tackling this pack string with ill intentions, he thought. His eyes scanned the two happy women as they rode behind their dad and husband. Both were armed with pistols and their own knives, and, though one cradled a baby, they were ready for the day.

Traveling northwest into the magnificent Absaroka Range, Harlan’s group came into daily contact with herds of buffalo, the grand moose, elk by the score, and the dainty mule deer at every turn in the trail. Every night the party feasted on whatever they desired of animal species, and only the choicest cuts of meat.

The waters were clear and cold and the mountain grasses high and nutritious. Soon the horses were not pleasant to follow because of all those rich grasses being turned into foul-smelling methane gas. The trail they followed became clearer and clearer because of the numbers of mountain men and Indians who had gone before en route to the upcoming rendezvous. However, because they were now in the country of the deadly Blackfoot, their vigilance remained high.

Up they climbed, using the many animal and recently made human trails over the Togwatee Pass and down its steep back side. In front of the group in all their mountain majesty lay the spectacular Tetons, spiritual home to the mountain men. Skirting the south side of present-day Jackson Hole, they camped at the edge of the great valley in a large stand of timber.

By their second day in the valley, Harlan’s family was joined by several groups of friendly Flathead Indians and trappers, all heading for the rendezvous several days away. This larger group continued up over Teton Pass and down its steep back side into Pierre’s Hole, which to a mountain man was another most beautiful place.

Geographically speaking, Pierre’s Hole was about twenty-five miles long and anywhere from one-half to fifteen miles wide. One side of the valley was rimmed by the majestic Teton Mountains and the other by the Snake River Mountains. In between was grass belly-deep to a buffalo, watered areas streaming from the mountain ranges full of trout, and camping places aplenty. Even though the trappers lived in God’s paradise on a daily basis, they always appreciated another one of His masterpieces, and Pierre’s Hole fitted that bill. Its beauty was topped off by soft blue skies and pleasant evenings so full of stars that Harlan found it hard to close his eyes because of their numbers and magnificence.

Sublette and Campbell’s fur companies were there to supply the trappers at the 1832 rendezvous with supplies for the coming year. As usual, they and their American Fur Company didn’t arrive until the rendezvous was basically over. For once, however, that proved to be a small thing. Traders from Hudson’s Bay and the Rocky Mountain Fur Company happily showed up on time, as did several independent traders such as Gant, Blackwell, and Nathaniel Wyeth.

Entering the valley, Harlan and his group were greeted by the sight and sounds of many Indian tepees, barking dogs, running and playing children, and proud warriors riding about. Interspersed throughout were numerous trappers’ camps of every kind, with most utilizing the shade from the many cottonwood groves along the edge and center of the valley floor.

Heading toward an unoccupied grove of cottonwood with a stream nearby, Harlan pointed and exclaimed, “That site will be our home for the next few days.”

The animals were unloaded, curried, and tied close to camp to feed and water. Covering the camp goods with a tepee covering, the men began making several lean-tos with animal-skin tops to keep out the afternoon rains and the morning dew.

In the meantime, the women dug a fire pit, lined it with rocks, and soon had a merry fire blazing away. They soon had great strips of elk back strap taken the evening before cooking, to the delight of four very hungry men. The meat was accompanied by a bubbling pot of rice and bear fat, salt, pepper, and dried hot red pepper flakes. Last but not least, a large pot of coffee was left to boil as it hung over a cooking rod.

With camp made, the men sat around the fire with their backs against a cottonwood or a pack of beaver plews, waiting for the meal to be ready. Soon everyone was partaking of the evening meal in God’s country.

About a quarter mile to the west lay the camps of the fur companies that had arrived earlier and were setting up for the business of trading. Already, there were mobs of fur trappers and Indians swirling around to trade, drink, and share the news known to them regarding who had survived the winter and who was becoming a part of the soil.

“Mobs” was the best word to describe them because this was the greatest gathering of fur trappers and Indians in the history of such rendezvous. Over four hundred trappers and more than three hundred Indians from a handful of tribes showed up to make it a gala affair for all concerned.

Looking over at the huge crowd of gaily dressed humanity mobbing the fur traders, Harlan said, “We will wait a day or two until they ‘get all the hair off' before we begin our trading. There are plenty of supplies, from the looks of it, so we shouldn't have any problems getting what we need for the coming year.’'

The rest of the men, used to the peace and quiet the backcountry offered, just nodded. None were too keen on mixing it up in a crowd like that and were glad Harlan backed them off from the madhouse of trading for the moment.

Two days later, when the crowds had thinned somewhat and the drinking had begun in earnest, Harlan quietly told the boys, “Pack ’em up; we are going trading.” It took the four men, with help from the women, about an hour to load all their trappings onto the mules and horses.

Seeing that the women wanted to go as well, Harlan told them with a grin, “Get your finest on, and we’ll all go to the show.”

***

Quietly riding by and looking the traders over, Harlan said, “We will trade with the Rocky Mountain Fur Company. Their prices are about the same as the others, and they seem to be doing a better and fairer job of grading the furs.”

Walking the pack string over to that fur company, Harlan awaited his turn. While he waited, Birdsong and Autumn Flower dismounted and, with the baby, began looking over the trade goods offered that year to the trappers and Indians.

“Harlan, you old rip. How the hell are you doing?” shouted a fur buyer grading furs for the American Fur Company.

Before Harlan could respond, an old friend, Gavin Hatch, beckoned him over to trade in his buying area for the American Fur Company.

“Gavin, you old scudder, what the hell are you doing working for a trading company? I thought you was free-trapping in the Bighorns,” said Harlan.

“Couldn’t make my keep. The damn Indians kept my head down most of the time, and when I could run and trap as I needed, they kept raiding my campsite. I lost just about everything but my hair. Then when this offer came along, I jumped at it. After all, it still allowed me to remain in God’s country,” he responded with a grin as the two of them shook hands.

Dismounting, Harlan introduced his sons to Gavin and pointed out his daughter and wife as they merrily examined the trade goods laid about them in profusion.

“How the hell did you throw such old’uns out so fast? The last time I saw you, you were free and single, trapping with your brother and a couple others up on the Yellowstone.”

“My party was killed up on the Yellowstone by the Blackfoot. Me, I escaped and in running to the south out of their territory ran across an Indian massacre. Picked up these two boys there. Their parents had been killed, and they had hid out from the savages killing their kind.

Then, at last year’s rendezvous, I traded for those two squaws who just happened to be captured sisters to these here two boys. In the case of Runs Fast here, I bought him for the extra protection his rifle offered, as well as my daughter’s husband and another son. I kinda like these here ready-made families, if’n you get my drift. They sure are a lot less hassle,” Harlan said with a grin as he doffed his wolf-skin cap.

“My God, Harlan, you certainly had a run of good and bad luck since I saw you last! It is good to see you, my friend, but what the hell happened to that lovely head of hair you had back in ’28?” Gavin asked, looking at Harlan’s scarred bald head.

“Griz, and a damned big one at that. In fact, those two boys I saved turned around and saved me,” Harlan replied proudly. “Don’t look none too good as a result but am still alive and roaming the backcountry without a hitch in my giddy-up.”

“Well, let’s get to tradin’ and see what you have,” Gavin replied. “We can always palaver as we trade and get caught up on the news.”

With that the trading began in earnest, and Harlan’s three sons looked on keenly at the process. For about an hour, Gavin disassembled the packs of furs and hides and carefully examined each one with the practiced eye of a trader and former trapper. Finishing his grading, he stood up and stretched out the kinks in his tired back from so much bending over to study the quality of the furs lying at his feet.

“I can give you four dollars for your beaver hides, three for them buffler hides, a dollar and a half for the wolf and coyote hides, and three for your otters. I can give five each for them griz hides because there is a market back East to mount them for display as well as bear-skin coats, two dollars for them deer and elk hides, and fifteen cents apiece for the muskrat and raccoon hides.” He looked over at Harlan for his friend’s reaction to his grading and pricing of the furs.

After some long figuring, Harlan arrived at a total figure of about three thousand five hundred dollars (at the time, three hundred to five hundred dollars a year was the average salary of a man working back East). Figuring again to calculate what the group needed for the next year in goods, Harlan realized that amount would more than carry them through another year.

“You have a deal,” Harlan replied, “just as long as you throw in a keg of uncut rum.”

Gavin grinned and said, “You have a deal. That is more than fair.”