What is a country without horses?
"On the Columbia they are poor and dirty, paddle about in canoes,
and eat fish. Their teeth are worn out; they are always taking
fish-bones out of their mouths. Fish is poor food.
"To the east, they dwell in villages; they live well; but they
drink the muddy water of the Missouri - that is bad. A Crow's dog
would not drink such water.
"About the forks of the Missouri is a fine country; good water;
good grass; plenty of buffalo. In summer, it is almost as good as
the Crow country; but in winter it is cold; the grass is gone;
and there is no salt weed for the horses.
"The Crow country is exactly in the right place. It has snowy
mountains and sunny plains; all kinds of climates and good things
for every season. When the summer heats scorch the prairies, you
can draw up under the mountains, where the air is sweet and cool,
the grass fresh, and the bright streams come tumbling out of the
snow-banks. There you can hunt the elk, the deer, and the
antelope, when their skins are fit for dressing; there you will
find plenty of white bears and mountain sheep.
"In the autumn, when your horses are fat and strong from the
mountain pastures, you can go down into the plains and hunt the
buffalo, or trap beaver on the streams. And when winter comes on,
you can take shelter in the woody bottoms along the rivers; there
you will find buffalo meat for yourselves, and cotton-wood bark
for your horses: or you may winter in the Wind River valley,
where there is salt weed in abundance.
"The Crow country is exactly in the right place. Everything good
is to be found there. There is no country like the Crow country."
Such is the eulogium on his country by Arapooish.
We have had repeated occasions to speak of the restless and
predatory habits of the Crows. They can muster fifteen hundred
fighting men, but their incessant wars with the Blackfeet, and
their vagabond, predatory habits, are gradually wearing them out.
In a recent work, we related the circumstance of a white man
named Rose, an outlaw, and a designing vagabond, who acted as
guide and interpreter to Mr. Hunt and his party, on their journey
across the mountains to Astoria, who came near betraying them
into the hands of the Crows, and who remained among the tribe,
marrying one of their women, and adopting their congenial habits.
A few anecdotes of the subsequent fortunes of that renegade may
not be uninteresting, especially as they are connected with the
fortunes of the tribe.
Rose was powerful in frame and fearless in spirit; and soon by
his daring deeds took his rank among the first braves of the
tribe. He aspired to command, and knew it was only to be attained
by desperate exploits. He distinguished himself in repeated
actions with Blackfeet. On one occasion, a band of those savages
had fortified themselves within a breastwork, and could not be
harmed. Rose proposed to storm the work. "Who will take the
lead?" was the demand. "I!" cried he; and putting himself at
their head, rushed forward. The first Blackfoot that opposed him
he shot down with his rifle, and, snatching up the war-club of
his victim, killed four others within the fort. The victory was
complete, and Rose returned to the Crow village covered with
glory, and bearing five Blackfoot scalps, to be erected as a
trophy before his lodge. From this time, he was known among the
Crows by the name of Che-ku-kaats, or "the man who killed five."
He became chief of the village, or rather band, and for a time
was the popular idol. His popularity soon awakened envy among the
native braves; he was a stranger, an intruder, a white man. A
party seceded from his command. Feuds and civil wars succeeded
that lasted for two or three years, until Rose, having contrived
to set his adopted brethren by the ears, left them, and went down
the Missouri in 1823. Here he fell in with one of the earliest
trapping expeditions sent by General Ashley across the mountains.
It was conducted by Smith, Fitzpatrick, and Sublette. Rose
enlisted with them as guide and interpreter. When he got them
among the Crows, he was exceedingly generous with their goods;
making presents to the braves of his adopted tribe, as became a
high-minded chief.
This, doubtless, helped to revive his popularity. In that
expedition, Smith and Fitzpatrick were robbed of their horses in
Green River valley; the place where the robbery took place still
bears the name of Horse Creek. We are not informed whether the
horses were stolen through the instigation and management of
Rose; it is not improbable, for such was the perfidy he had
intended to practice on a former occasion toward Mr. Hunt and his
party.
The last anecdote we have of Rose is from an Indian trader. When
General Atkinson made his military expedition up the Missouri, in
1825, to protect the fur trade, he held a conference with the
Crow nation, at which Rose figured as Indian dignitary and Crow
interpreter. The military were stationed at some little distance
from the scene of the "big talk"; while the general and the
chiefs were smoking pipes and making speeches, the officers,
supposing all was friendly, left the troops, and drew near the
scene of ceremonial. Some of the more knowing Crows, perceiving
this, stole quietly to the camp, and, unobserved, contrived to
stop the touch-holes of the field-pieces with dirt.
