Either She Was So Lost In Grief As Not To
Perceive Their Approach; Or A Proud Spirit Kept Her Silent And
Motionless.
The Indians set up a yell, on discovering her, and
before the trappers could interfere, her mangled body fell upon
the corpse which she had refused to abandon.
We have heard this
anecdote discredited by one of the leaders who had been in the
battle: but the fact may have taken place without his seeing it,
and been concealed from him. It is an instance of female
devotion, even to the death, which we are well disposed to
believe and to record.
After the battle, the brigade of Milton Sublette, together with
the free trappers, and Wyeth's New England band, remained some
days at the rendezvous, to see if the main body of Blackfeet
intended to make an attack; nothing of the kind occurring, they
once more put themselves in motion, and proceeded on their route
toward the southwest. Captain Sublette having distributed his
supplies, had intended to set off on his return to St. Louis,
taking with him the peltries collected from the trappers and
Indians. His wound, however obliged him to postpone his
departure. Several who were to have accompanied him became
impatient of this delay. Among these was a young Bostonian, Mr.
Joseph More, one of the followers of Mr. Wyeth, who had seen
enough of mountain life and savage warfare, and was eager to
return to the abodes of civilization. He and six others, among
whom were a Mr. Foy, of Mississippi, Mr. Alfred K. Stephens, of
St. Louis, and two grandsons of the celebrated Daniel Boon, set
out together, in advance of Sublette's party, thinking they would
make their way through the mountains.
It was just five days after the battle of the swamp that these
seven companions were making their way through Jackson's Hole, a
valley not far from the three Tetons, when, as they were
descending a hill, a party of Blackfeet that lay in ambush
started up with terrific yells. The horse of the young Bostonian,
who was in front, wheeled round with affright, and threw his
unskilled rider. The young man scrambled up the side of the hill,
but, unaccustomed to such wild scenes, lost his presence of mind,
and stood, as if paralyzed, on the edge of a bank, until the
Blackfeet came up and slew him on the spot. His comrades had fled
on the first alarm; but two of them, Foy and Stephens, seeing his
danger, paused when they got half way up the hill, turned back,
dismounted, and hastened to his assistance. Foy was instantly
killed. Stephens was severely wounded, but escaped, to die five
days afterward. The survivors returned to the camp of Captain
Sublette, bringing tidings of this new disaster. That hardy
leader, as soon as he could bear the journey, set out on his
return to St. Louis, accompanied by Campbell. As they had a
number of pack-horses richly laden with peltries to convoy, they
chose a different route through the mountains, out of the way, as
they hoped, of the lurking bands of Blackfeet.
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