The present party of Crows, however, evinced nothing of the invidious character forwhich they are renowned. During the day and night that they were encamped incompany with the travellers, their conduct was friendly in the extreme. They were, infact, quite irksome in their attentions, and had a caressing manner at times quiteimportunate. It was not until after separation on the following morning that the captainand his men ascertained the secret of all this loving-kindness. In the course of theirfraternal caresses, the Crows had contrived to empty the pockets of their whitebrothers; to abstract the very buttons from their coats, and, above all, to make free withtheir hunting knives.
By equal altitudes of the sun, taken at this last encampment, Captain Bonnevilleascertained his latitude to be 41° 47' north. The thermometer, at six o'clock in themorning, stood at fifty-nine degrees; at two o'clock, P. M., at ninety-two degrees; and atsix o'clock in the evening, at seventy degrees.
The Black Hills, or Mountains, now began to be seen at a distance, printing the horizonwith their rugged and broken outlines; and threatening to oppose a difficult barrier in theway of the travellers.
On the 26th of May, the travellers encamped at Laramie's Fork, a clear and beautifulstream, rising in the west-southwest, maintaining an average width of twenty yards, andwinding through broad meadows abounding in currants and gooseberries, and adornedwith groves and clumps of trees.
By an observation of Jupiter's satellites, with a Dolland reflecting telescope, CaptainBonneville ascertained the longitude to be 102° 57' west of Greenwich.
We will here step ahead of our narrative to observe that about three years after the timeof which we are treating, Mr. Robert Campbell, formerly of the Rocky Mountain FurCompany, descended the Platte from this fork, in skin canoes, thus proving, what hadalways been discredited, that the river was navigable. About the same time, he built afort or trading post at Laramie's Fork, which he named Fort William, after his friend andpartner, Mr. William Sublette. Since that time, the Platte has become a highway for thefur traders.
For some days past, Captain Bonneville had been made sensible of the great elevationof country into which he was gradually ascending by the effect of the dryness andrarefaction of the atmosphere upon his wagons. The wood-work shrunk; the paintboxes of the wheels were continually working out, and it was necessary to support thespokes by stout props to prevent their falling asunder. The travellers were now enteringone of those great steppes of the Far West, where the prevalent aridity of theatmosphere renders the country unfit for cultivation. In these regions there is a freshsweet growth of grass in the spring, but it is scanty and short, and parches up in thecourse of the summer, so that there is none for the hunters to set fire to in the autumn.
It is a common observation that "above the forks of the Platte the grass does not burn."All attempts at agriculture and gardening in the neighborhood of Fort William have beenattended with very little success. The grain and vegetables raised there have beenscanty in quantity and poor in quality. The great elevation of these plains, and thedryness of the atmosphere, will tend to retain these immense regions in a state ofpristine wildness.
In the course of a day or two more, the travellers entered that wild and broken tract ofthe Crow country called the Black Hills, and here their journey became toilsome in theextreme. Rugged steeps and deep ravines incessantly obstructed their progress, sothat a great part of the day was spent in the painful toil of digging through banks, fillingup ravines, forcing the wagons up the most forbidding ascents, or swinging them withropes down the face of dangerous precipices. The shoes of their horses were worn out,and their feet injured by the rugged and stony roads. The travellers were annoyed alsoby frequent but brief storms, which would come hurrying over the hills, or through themountain defiles, rage with great fury for a short time, and then pass off, leavingeverything calm and serene again.
For several nights the camp had been infested by vagabond Indian dogs, prowlingabout in quest of food. They were about the size of a large pointer; with ears short anderect, and a long bushy tail--altogether, they bore a striking resemblance to a wolf.
These skulking visitors would keep about the purlieus of the camp until daylight; when,on the first stir of life among the sleepers, they would scamper off until they reachedsome rising ground, where they would take their seats, and keep a sharp and hungrywatch upon every movement. The moment the travellers were fairly on the march, andthe camp was abandoned, these starving hangers-on would hasten to the desertedfires, to seize upon the half-picked bones, the offal and garbage that lay about; and,having made a hasty meal, with many a snap and snarl and growl, would followleisurely on the trail of the caravan. Many attempts were made to coax or catch them,but in vain. Their quick and suspicious eyes caught the slightest sinister movement, andthey turned and scampered off. At length one was taken. He was terribly alarmed, andcrouched and trembled as if expecting instant death. Soothed, however, by caresses,he began after a time to gather confidence and wag his tail, and at length was broughtto follow close at the heels of his captors, still, however, darting around furtive andsuspicious glances, and evincing a disposition to scamper off upon the least alarm.
