On the following morning, just as we had packed, ready for march, we saw a band of Indians in the direction in which we were to go. Mr. Prap sent an Indian and a half-breed named Antoine to meet them. As they approached, they discovered the Indians were Blackfeet. The chief left the party and came out in a friendly way to meet Antoine and his Indian companion. But Antoine's father had been killed by the Blackfeet: he was going to have his revenge then and there. So he said to the Indian "I'll appear friendly when we meet, but you watch your chance and shoot him." This he did. Antoine caught his robe or blanket of blue or red, turned and fled to camp. The Blackfeet fired after him, and as he rode into camp he said: "They were Blackfeet. We killed their chief. Here is his robe." We, to our dismay, expected a battle, which we did not like. An express was sent back to Captain Sublette's camp to tell the state of affairs and ask assistance.
The whites and Indians returned in great numbers, Captain Sublette going against the Blackfeet on his own account. The Blackfeet by this time had built a breastwork by the creek, taking their women and horses inside with them.
We had hastily thrown up a breastwork of our saddles. There was a hard fight until sunset. The Indians always lay down on their backs while loading their guns, and sometimes fire lying down The Indians considered the leaden bullet a sort of thunder and lightening death, and the whites did not think the barbed arrows any better. At sundown we retired and encamped. A Mr. Sinclair died of his wounds that night. During the battle I was left in charge of the horses and camp and took care of the wounded.[1]
The next night we returned to the rendezvous, and in the horse pen buried Mr. Sinclair. Mr. Wm. Sublette was wounded. There were eight whites and as many friendly Indians killed, and some others wounded. After breakfast we visited the enemy's camp and found some twenty-five dead horses and two dead women. There were ten scalps taken by our Indians from the Blackfeet. We concluded that the reason they had left their dead was because there was not enough of them left to carry them off.
This affair detained us three days. We buried all the dead in the horse pen, as the ground was so well trodden they couldn't be found. They would, we knew, be sought for their scalps.
The wounded were carried on stretchers to Sublette's camp. A bier was made by suspending trees covered with blankets between two horses, one in front of the other. July 24 We quit camp, going south by the battle ground of the eighteenth; got but ten miles along. The next day was showery, but
- ↑ Washington Irving, in "Bonneville's Adventures," describes this battle. Bonneville was encamped not far from there at the time.