The Great Salt Trail | Page 4

at Astoria on the
following February, having travelled a distance of thirty-five hundred
miles. They had taken a circuitous route, for Astoria is only eighteen
hundred miles, in a direct line, from St. Louis.
The first authentic account of an expedition through the valley of the
Platte was that of Mr. Robert Stuart, in the employ of John Jacob Astor.
He was detailed to carry despatches from the mouth of the Columbia to
New York, informing Mr. Astor of the condition of his venture on the
remote shores of the Pacific. The mission entrusted to Mr. Stuart was
filled with perils, and he was selected for the dangerous duty on
account of his nerve and strength. He was a young man, and although
he had never crossed the Rocky Mountains, he had already given
proofs, on other perilous expeditions, of his competence for the new

duty. His companions were Ben Jones and John Day,[3] both
Kentuckians, two Canadians, and some others who had become tired of
the wild life, and had determined to go back to civilization.
They all left Astoria on the 29th of June, 1812, and reached the
headwaters of the Platte, thence they travelled down the valley to its
mouth, and embarked in boats for St. Louis.
When they reached the Snake River deserts, great sandy plains
stretched out before them. Only occasionally were there intervales of
grass, and the miserable herbage was saltweed, resembling pennyroyal.
The desponding party looked in vain for some relief from the lifeless
landscape. All game had apparently shunned the dreary, sun-parched
waste, but hunger was now and then appeased by a few fish which they
caught in the streams, or some sun-dried salmon, or a dog given to
them by the kind-hearted Shoshones whose lodges they sometimes
came across.
At last the party tired of this weary route. They determined to leave the
banks of the barren Snake River, so, under the guidance of a Mr. Miller
who had previously trapped in that region, they were conducted across
the mountains and out of the country of the dreaded Blackfeet. Miller
soon proved a poor guide, and again the party became bewildered
among rugged hills, unknown streams, and the burned and grassless
prairies.
Finally they arrived on the banks of a river, on which their guide
assured them he had trapped, and to which they gave the name of
Miller, but it was really the Bear River which flows into Great Salt
Lake. They continued along its banks for three days, subsisting very
precariously on fish.
They soon discovered that they were in a dangerous region. One
evening, having camped rather early in the afternoon, they took their
fishing-tackle and prepared to fish for their supper. When they returned
to their camp, they were surprised to see a number of savages prowling
round. They proved to be Crows, whose chief was a giant, very dark,
and looked the rogue that they found him to be.
He ordered some of his warriors to return to their camp, near by, and
bring buffalo meat for the starving white men. Notwithstanding the
apparent kindness of this herculean chief, there was something about
him that filled the white men with distrust. Gradually the number of his

warriors increased until there were over a score of them in camp. They
began to be inquisitive and troublesome, and the whites felt great
concern for their horses, each man keeping a close watch upon the
movements of the Indians.
As no unpleasant demonstrations had been made by the savages, and as
the party had bought all the buffalo meat they had brought, Mr. Stuart
began to make preparations in the morning for his departure. The
savages, however, were for further dealings with their newly found pale
friends, and above everything else they wanted gunpowder, for which
they offered to trade horses. Mr. Stuart declined to accommodate them.
At this they became more impudent, and demanded the powder, but
were again refused.
The gigantic chief now stepped forward with an important air, and
slapping himself upon the breast, he gave the men to understand that he
was a chief of great power. He said that it was customary for great
chiefs to exchange presents when they met. He therefore requested Mr.
Stuart to dismount and give him the horse he was riding. Mr. Stuart
valued the animal very highly, so he shook his head at the demand of
the savage. Upon this the Indian walked up, and taking hold of Mr.
Stuart, began to push him backward and forward in his saddle, as if to
impress upon him that he was in his power.
Mr. Stuart preserved his temper and again shook his head negatively.
The chief then seized the bridle, gave it a jerk that scared the horse, and
nearly brought