The Saga of Harlan Waugh (The Mountain Men) (21 page)

If Harlan had only known what would face his little family in the land of the Crow...

After he returned to camp with the news about traveling north with the Crow in two days, the family was abuzz with talk about the chance for a new life among their own kind. It had been a long time since Harlan had seen everyone so animated.

Perhaps it is a good sign for what is to come, he thought.

Riding up to the St. Louis Fur Company traders the next day, Harlan announced that they were there to claim their credit in the form of goods for the coming year. Soon they were piling up kegs of powder, primer caps, flint for trade, fire steels, and two dozen sharpening stones, which they would soon need because they were going into buffalo country.

The stones would be greatly needed because the great beasts’ wiry hair always dulled their knives during skinning. They also acquired bolts of brightly colored calico for the women, pigs of lead, and a dozen fusil rifles for trade. They added the always needed and hard-to-get horseshoes, horseshoe nails, and mule shoes. Then Harlan and the boys began selecting bags of brightly colored beads, 100 pounds of coffee, 200 pounds of flour and cornmeal, salt, cones of brown sugar, and two 25-pound bags of peppercorns. As an afterthought, Big Eagle selected several sacks of dried spices, including red pepper flakes. When their credit was exhausted, Harlan, true to his word, brought forth six Northern Cheyenne horses for trade. The traders, eager for any horse or mule flesh to pack back their bundles of hides, swarmed over the horses.

Soon a bargain was struck, and more goods were then selected from their stores, including four new Hawkens and all their fixings. Lastly, Harlan and the boys purchased eight ready-made pack saddles and much leather strapping that could be made into more packs if needed.

As they headed back to their campsite, almost every horse and mule was loaded to the gunwales.

It is a good thing I kept back ten of the horses gathered up from the fight in the cottonwood grove, Harlan thought, because they will be needed to distribute the weight of these loads for the long-distance travel to the Crow Nation, and for bringing many buffalo hides to the next rendezvous we attend.

Since they were leaving the next day, much haste was made in preparing for the loading of the pack string and the trip to the Crow camp and beyond. Possessing twenty horses and ten mules, Harlan divided the pack string up among the boys and himself. It would be easier to move them across the country as several smaller pack strings rather than one that was long and hard to control, especially when moving through timber and deadfalls.

Each of the women would trail a horse with a travois holding two tepee skins, camp gear, and sleeping skins. The men would be responsible for the pack strings carrying the valuable merchandise for trading and goods for living during the next year.

Finally, everything was set for the morning’s labors in readying the pack string. A final meal of fresh moose and buffalo cooked in bear grease graced their plates, as did many Dutch- oven biscuits slopped heavily with honey from one of the many stone jars for which they had recently traded.

Life was good.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Start of a New Life

Daylight found Harlan and his family sitting quietly at the edge of the Crow Indian encampment, which was being tom down to make ready for travel. As they waited on a hill at one side to be out of the way, Harlan was pleased to see Chief White Bear riding their way.

Making the sign of peace, the two men approached each other and shook hands like brothers.

“I am glad you made it, my friend,” said White Bear.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for all the world,” said Harlan with a grin.

Harlan introduced his kin to the Crow chief, who seemed pleased at what he saw, especially the strapping young men and all the trade goods on the horses and mules.

Soon the Crow village was on the move, along with Harlan and company. The line straggled out over half a mile in length and was a laughing, happy mixture of people and barking dogs on the move back toward their home. On the perimeter of this horde rode many alert Crow warriors, Harlan, and the boys.

If anyone wants to wreck this happy gathering, they will have to run a gauntlet of arrows and hot, flying lead bullets, Harlan thought comfortably.

Over the next several days, camp life consisted of travel all day and breaking early in the afternoon for dinner and making camp. The tribe moved north across what is today the eastern side of Yellowstone National Park towards Red Lodge, Montana, the summer home of Chief White Bear and his people.

By the second day, the Crow people had warmed up and begun to welcome Harlan and his family into their clan. Much visiting took place between the young warriors and the boys, especially concerning the firearms the boys carried. As for the women of the family, they were soon swamped with a million questions from the Crow women regarding who they might be, who their parents had been, when were they had been taken prisoner, and the like.

The Crow women were amazed that Birdsong and Autumn Flower openly owned and carried their own pistols. The two women responded to questions about their firearms with the statement that they would never again be taken prisoner without a fight to the death.

Harlan could see that there was a genuine interest and liking by the Crow people for the members of his clan. From the looks of it, the favor was returned, especially by Big Eagle for one tall young woman who was the daughter of Chief White Bear. She was the beautiful one Harlan had seen inside the tepee the day he and the chief had first spoken about traveling north together to the land of the Crow. There were no overt gestures outside cultural bounds, but Harlan saw the girl and Big Eagle frequently looking at each other and smiling. He watched with fatherly concern, as did Chief White Bear.

But he would make a fine suitor, Chief White Bear thought, smiling, with all his goods and many horses. Yes, he would make a fine husband and strong addition to my family.

Finally making camp just west of present-day Red Lodge, Montana, the Crow set up living quarters for the summer in a small wooded valley with lots of grass for their pony herds and wood and water aplenty.

Harlan and his family set up camp on the north side of the main Crow encampment in a large grove of cottonwood trees by a small but lively cold running creek. Their two large tepees were soon erected and corrals built for all the stock, and then the men began cutting logs to build two large cabins to live in and protect their many supplies from the weather and theft.

In ten days the cabins were ready, with Harlan and Birdsong residing in one cabin and Runs Fast and Autumn Flower in the other. The tepee stores were transferred into the cabins for the greater protection they offered. Big Eagle and Winter Hawk occupied one tepee, and into the other went all the tack from their livestock. Soon life began to run smoothly for the clan as Harlan began scouting the country for signs of beaver and other furbearers.

Chief White Bear came visiting one day shortly after the establishment of the two camps. Sitting with Harlan after they had smoked the sacred pipe, he asked if Harlan’s group would like to go with his people to make meat from “much buffalo.” Being short of meat and jerky for the winter months ahead, Harlan answered that they would very much like to accompany the tribe.

“Then it is decided. Tomorrow we go to the Little Greasy Grass Valley, where many buffalo are living,” White Bear exclaimed, with anticipation running high in his voice. (This is the area where General Custer would be killed in 1876.) He rose and without a word other than a firm handshake, strode out from the cabin, mounted his horse easily and rode back to his camp.

“Well, boys, we have a mountain of work to do before tomorrow. We best get cracking,” said Harlan with a look of anticipation as well.

They spent the rest of morning casting many bullets, filling powder horns, checking rifles, honing knives, and packing extra sharpening stones with the gear to be taken. When that was finished, the boys rode into the dark timber and cut enough lodge-pole saplings to make five new travois.

Dawn the next morning found the tribe and Harlan’s band on the move to the east. Except for the very young, the very old, and a few warriors left behind for the protection they offered, the entire tribe was on the move. Hours later, a herd of buffalo was located in a creek bottom interspersed with numerous cottonwoods.

Reining up out of sight so as not to spook the herd, the tribal elders discussed the best way to approach for the largest kill. Then White Bear strode away from the elders and approached Harlan, who was sitting off to one side with his family, waiting for their hunt instructions.

“My brother,'7 he said, “will you join us and help make plans for the hunt?”

“I would be happy to join my brother,” Harlan replied, pleased that he had been asked. He followed White Bear back to the council.

Returning shortly, he said, “We have been given the place of honor in killing the buffalo. They respect our Hawkens far more than their flintlocks and bows and arrows, so we will position ourselves downwind, sneak up, and kill as many buffalo as we can. When the buffalo finally break, the warriors led by White Bear will charge from the downwind side and kill as many as they can before they leave the valley. Hopefully, we can kill several months’ worth of meat for ourselves and our friends.

“Now, boys, before we left, I handed each of you an additional Hawken to act as your reserve in instances like this. It is also at times like this that I expect you to shoot, and shoot straight. Much depends on us to kill as many as we can before they spook and scatter all over the prairie. So shoot the cows, and make one-shot kills if possible. Above all, stay out of sight because once the buffalo wind or see us, they will be off and gone.”

An hour later, Harlan and the boys were behind a slight rise, some forty yards downwind from the herd of buffalo, which numbered about five thousand animals.

As buffalo are wont to do, they are feeding in numerous scattered bunches across the prairie. But once the shooting starts, they will bunch up and mill about in confusion, and that is when the real killing can begin, thought Harlan.

Making sure everyone was set and there were enough small cottonwoods behind them so that they could run and climb to safety if the herd stampeded toward them when the warriors struck, Harlan gave the signal. The big Hawkens spoke thunderously as if in chorus, and seconds later eight fat buffalo cows were kicking their last at the edge of the herd. By the time the telltale clouds of white smoke had drifted away on the ever-present prairie wind, the rifles had been reloaded.

Eight more shots were quickly fired, and another eight cows lay dead or dying. Some of the herd began to get nervous over the smell of blood and wisely started to move away from the noise and smoke coming from the hillside. They were the next eight to die.

Soon, the men had the buffalo at their mercy as the animals just stood in confusion, allowing themselves to be killed one by one. Within half an hour of careful, selective shooting, sixty-five buffalo lay dead or dying.

By then, the rest of the herd had had too much of the smell of the recently spilled blood, and they nervously began moving to the south, away from their dead and dying brethren. It was then that White Bear and his warriors struck, and bedlam ensued! Small herds ran every which way, and one group that came by Harlan and the boys lost seven more to carefully placed shots. One of the Hawkens misfired, allowing the eighth buffalo sighted upon to escape.

Soon it was over, and the rest of the tribe, along with Birdsong and Autumn Flower pulling a pack string of five travois plus the two attached to the horses they were riding, moved onto the killing field. For the next hour or so, all one could hear was the excitement and laughter that comes from a good kill of a favorite meat animal.

Then the field got quiet as everyone pitched in with the butchering and loading of the meat onto the travois. Come nightfall, many huge bonfires were lit in the trees next to the creek, and great slabs of meat and ribs were set about the fires for cooking. When the meat was done, the tribe gathered around for a great celebration and feast. Around midnight, people started heading for their sleeping robes because they knew tomorrow would be another long, hard day of butchering.

Come daylight, the huge fires were rekindled, and everyone ate fresh buffalo meat until they could eat no more. Then out onto the prairie they went to butcher the remaining buffalo left from the day before. Those animals that had not been gutted the day before were somewhat bloated, but a little ripe meat didn’t faze the Crows, and it was all collected, green-looking or not.

Harlan and his family had loaded their animals with all they could carry, and, like some of the other Indian families, they began to drift homeward so they could begin processing their valuable stores before the meat was fly-blown or spoiled.

Harlan thought,
How wonderful to be able to just leave and wander across the Crow Nation without the fear of running into a hostile tribe. Yes, we made the right decision to make the Crow Nation our new home.

About an hour from the buffalo killing field, Harlan heard the sound of a horse’s hoofs coming up behind him at a gallop. Turning, he saw White Bear fast approaching.

Reining in next to Harlan, the chief said, “My brother, your shooting was straight and deadly. You and the boys have killed many buffalo for my tribe. I am grateful to have such a brother and his sons in my band!”

Harlan smiled proudly and said, “It is also great to be your brother and to be among the mighty Crow Nation. I cannot remember when I have felt this safe and happy since I came west to this great land so many years ago.”

White Bear grinned and said, “As long as I am chief, you and yours shall have a home among your Crow brothers and sisters.”

With that and a flourish of the hand, he rode off to visit a nearby group of Indians dragging home their winter meat supply.