In The Course Of Their March, Mr. Fitzpatrick, The Partner Of The
Company Who Was Resident At That Time Beyond The Mountains, Came
Down From The Rendezvous At Pierre's Hole To Meet Them And Hurry
Them Forward.
He travelled in company with them until they
reached the Sweet Water; then taking a couple of horses, one
For
the saddle, and the other as a pack-horse, he started off express
for Pierre's Hole, to make arrangements against their arrival,
that he might commence his hunting campaign before the rival
company.
Fitzpatrick was a hardy and experienced mountaineer, and knew all
the passes and defiles. As he was pursuing his lonely course up
the Green River valley, he described several horsemen at a
distance, and came to a halt to reconnoitre. He supposed them to
be some detachment from the rendezvous, or a party of friendly
Indians. They perceived him, and setting up the war-whoop, dashed
forward at full speed: he saw at once his mistake and his
peril - they were Blackfeet. Springing upon his fleetest horse,
and abandoning the other to the enemy, he made for the mountains,
and succeeded in escaping up one of the most dangerous defiles.
Here he concealed himself until he thought the Indians had gone
off, when he returned into the valley. He was again pursued, lost
his remaining horse, and only escaped by scrambling up among the
cliffs. For several days he remained lurking among rocks and
precipices, and almost famished, having but one remaining charge
in his rifle, which he kept for self-defence.
In the meantime, Sublette and Campbell, with their fellow
traveller, Wyeth, had pursued their march unmolested, and arrived
in the Green River valley, totally unconscious that there was any
lurking enemy at hand. They had encamped one night on the banks
of a small stream, which came down from the Wind River Mountains,
when about midnight, a band of Indians burst upon their camp,
with horrible yells and whoops, and a discharge of guns and
arrows. Happily no other harm was done than wounding one mule,
and causing several horses to break loose from their pickets. The
camp was instantly in arms; but the Indians retreated with yells
of exultation, carrying off several of the horses under cover of
the night.
This was somewhat of a disagreeable foretaste of mountain life to
some of Wyeth's band, accustomed only to the regular and peaceful
life of New England; nor was it altogether to the taste of
Captain Sublette's men, who were chiefly creoles and townsmen
from St. Louis. They continued their march the next morning,
keeping scouts ahead and upon their flanks, and arrived without
further molestation at Pierre's Hole.
The first inquiry of Captain Sublette, on reaching the
rendezvous, was for Fitzpatrick. He had not arrived, nor had any
intelligence been received concerning him. Great uneasiness was
now entertained, lest he should have fallen into the hands of the
Blackfeet who had made the midnight attack upon the camp.
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