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With the Indians in the Rockies

Chapter 8 No.8

Word Count: 3732    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

. "This noise seems to come

e were on, and saw a long streak of snow exten

is making that noise!" I exclaimed. "Se

lowing does not come from there any more than from elsew

flying snow. But where we were there was only a gentle breeze from the west, which did not increase in force. I remembered now that in winter, when fierce northwest winds blew ac

"Here Wind-Maker lives; and many another of the mountain and fore

eemed to come from nowhere in particular; but down in the valley, and even high up on the sides of the mountains, near the lodge, there was never more

were seven of them,-old "nannies," two kids, and "billies" one and two years old,-all in a close bunch not more than twenty feet below us. I

but on second thought eased it, for I might waste a precious arrow. I had to use all my

g to the fact that something was wrong with her kindred, started off to the left at a lumbering gallop, more ungainly and racking than that of a steer.

the lower joint of a hind leg, we thrust a fore leg of the next animal through it,-between tendon and bone,-then slit the fore leg in the same manner, and

start an avalanche, we kept as close to the edge of the timber as we could. Even so, I had the feeling which a man has while walking on thin ice over deep water. I tried

n probably get out of it by making a rush for the timber,"

rowlers during the night, we laid them side by side on a heap of balsam boughs, where the air could circulate all round them, and Pitamakan hung his capote on a stick right over them, in order

gh any one would think that snow would be a natural refrigerator, the opposite is the

le I followed slowly with the goatskin and head. There w

rse, but that did not matter. Off came our few garments, to be hung a short time over the fire and then put on again. How cheerful and r

them together in the form of a big bag, with the fur side in. The night on which we crawled into it for the first time was a great occasion. On

It was a tedious job to skin them and properly stretch the pelts to dry, but for all that, we loved the work and were proud of the result. Here and there in the lodge

of the elk hams was broiled and eaten. For a day or two we subsisted on goat meat, althoug

always wishing for glue, so that we might back them with sinew. The

id to him one day. "Perhaps we can mak

ayer of clay six inches thick between two layers of gravel. We broke out several large flat chunks of the stuff,-it was frozen, of course,-and carried it to the lodge. Th

Mandan village, while I made mine an inch thick, with a capacity of not more than two

nd put to bake. In a few minutes the one which Pitamakan had made fell to pieces, but mine, which was thick and clumsy in shape, seemed to stand the heat well. I gradually increased the fire round it, and after keeping the blaze

into it nearly a quart of water, an elk hoof and a couple of goat hoofs, we rebuilt the fire just close enough

ingers. We were quite excited and proud of our success. Softening the four elk sinews in the hot glue, Pitamakan then

ly. In the morning, the first thing, after crawling out of our fur nest, we strung and tested them, and found that the backing had more than doubled thei

that the deer went from the high mountains down toward the lake of the Flatheads to winter, and that we need not ex

it was a stinging cold day, we had our hands tucked up in the sleeves of our capotes, and our bows and

ng sharp for any enemy, and then make a sudden dive. We watched him until he had brought up a big trout and had begun to eat it, when we turned away without the animal seeing us. Ex

e a moose yard. In many places the willows had been browsed off as far out from the paths as the animals could stretch their necks. Here and there were large, hard-pack

tant that they saw us the old lead cow trotted away down the trail, leading the others, and then by turning into every successive left-hand fork, tried to circle round behind us. When we headed her off

fly behind her reminded me of the stern wheel of a Missouri River steamboat beating up spray. All the others

between the ribs of the cow, and by a lucky aim I put my one arrow into the calf behind her.

r way through six feet of snow was wonderful. For at least three hundred yards she went faster than

also in them the look of terror and despair. When we got close to her, she rushed at us. We had to do some lively scrambling to keep out of her way. But she soon tired, and then while I attracted her attention, Pitamakan slipped round on the oth

nd I proposed that we spare them. P

ore us? Why, brother, you talk foolishly! Of course we must kill

as he said. By the time we had one calf skinned we

acked home from time to time. Two of the hides we put to soak in the river, preparatory to graining and tann

ed the two hides. Having done the tanning successfully, we went into the tailoring business. Pitamakan cut pieces of proper shape from the big, soft ski

as we regard bread, that is, as the staff of life. Pitamakan, who craved it more than I, determined, now that we had plenty of hides, to use a part of one for a kettle. From one of the yearling moose hides he cut a large, round piece, soaked

the rocks were red-hot, he dropped them one by one into the bag, and pulled them out to reheat as fast as they cooled. In this way

lly more nutritious than it would have been had it been stewed a long time. We enjoyed t

led from one open hole to another to do their fishing, and one day we began our campaign against them by going f

snare the trout. We soon learned, however, that it could not be done, for they would not allow the loop to com

lose to the bottom, and never moved when the loop drifted down round their heads, thinking, no doubt, that it was but a piece of passing water-grass. When t

working. But for some time afterward we got no otters; of all animals they are the shyest and most difficult to trap. It was n

dge, and the next morning visit those to the west of it. The farthest one to the west was at least seven miles away, and for some unknown reason more fur came to it than to any of the others; we seldom

cept a marten that a passing fisher had maliciously torn to shreds, Pitamakan began the c

t held, while my partner sang louder than ever. On coming to it, we found a fine, black, fluffy-fu

w which excited my interest, and I impatiently waited fo

although it seemed odd to me that a bear sh

as the trail of a man on long, narrow web shoes-an Indian, of course, and therefore an enemy. The trail was fresh

of C

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With the Indians in the Rockies
With the Indians in the Rockies
“J. W. Schultz (1859-1947) was an author, explorer, and historian known for his historical writings of the Blackfoot Indians in the late 1800s, when he lived among them as a fur trader. In 1907, Schultz published My Life as an Indian, the first of many future writings about the Blackfeet that he would produce over the next thirty years. Schultz lived in Browning, Montana. "With the Indians in the Rockies" is by a Rocky Mountain veteran, J. W. Shultz, and is "real stuff," vivid and exciting, with the value that comes from firsthand knowledge. It is the story of Thomas Fox, a trapper, whose life was spent among the Indians--friendly and hostile, -in the pursuit of his calling, and who told the story to Mr. Schultz around the camp-fire. Buffalo-hunting, rowing up the Missouri, fights with Indians, the discovery that his Uncle Wesley was married to a squaw, to whom he became very much attached, exploring the Rocky Mountains, adventures in the snow, bear hunting and the like make up the story. It is a story of out-door adventure, Indians, wild animals, and the perils of a mountain winter that has seldom been equalled in absorbing vividness and power. Mr. Schultz's work bids fair to become a classic for old and young alike. Few men are now left who can write with such knowledge and charm about the scenes and people of the old buffalo days. Every boy, as well as every man and woman who retains an interest in the realities of life in the open, will read the book with delight. Schultz writes: "WHEN in the eighteen seventies I turned my back on civilization and joined the trappers and traders of the Northwest, Thomas Fox became my friend. We were together in the Indian camps and trading posts often for months at a time; he loved to recount his adventures in still earlier days, and thus it was that I learned the facts of his life. The stories that he told by the evening camp-fire and before the comfortable fireplaces of our various posts, on long winter days, were impressed upon my memory, but to make sure of them I frequently took notes of the more important points. "As time passed, I realized more and more how unusual and interesting his adventures were, and I urged him to write an account of them. He began with enthusiasm, but soon tired of the unaccustomed work. Later, however, after the buffalo had been exterminated and we were settled on a cattle-ranch, where the life was of a deadly monotony compared with that which we had led, I induced him to take up the narrative once more."”
1 Chapter 1 No.12 Chapter 2 No.23 Chapter 3 No.34 Chapter 4 No.45 Chapter 5 No.56 Chapter 6 No.67 Chapter 7 No.78 Chapter 8 No.89 Chapter 9 No.910 Chapter 10 No.10