# The River of the West

The first, and most famous, historical work by Frances Fuller Victor. Republished in edited form, in 1881, as Eleven years in the Rocky Mountains and a life on the frontier.
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1869, by
R. W. BLISS & CO.,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the District of Connecticut.
WE FIND THEM, ACCORDINGLY, HARDY, LITHE, VIGOROUS, AND ACTIVE: EXTRAVAGANT IN WORD, IN THOUGHT, AND DEED: HEEDLESS OF HARDSHIP; DARING OF DANGER; PRODIGAL OF THE PRESENT, AND THOUGHTLESS OF THE FUTURE.—Irving.
INTRODUCTION.
When the author of this book has been absorbed in the elegant narratives of Washington Irving, reading and musing over Astoria and Bonneville, in the cozy quiet of a New York study, no prescient motion of the mind ever gave prophetic indication of that personal acquaintance which has since been formed with the scenes, and even with some of the characters which figure in the works just referred to. Yet so have events shaped themselves that to me Astoria is familiar ground; Forts Vancouver and Walla Walla pictured forever in my memory; while such journeys as I have been enabled to make into the country east of the last named fort, have given me a fair insight into the characteristic features of its mountains and its plains.
To-day, a railroad traverses the level stretch between the Missouri River and the Rocky Mountains, along which, thirty years ago, the fur-traders had worn a trail by their annual excursions with men, pack-horses, and sometimes wagons, destined to the Rocky Mountains. Then, they had to guard against the attacks of the Savages; and in this respect civilization is behind the railroad, for now, as then, it is not safe to travel without a sufficient escort. To-day, also, we have new Territories called by several names cut out of the identical hunting-grounds of the fur-traders of thirty years ago; and steamboats plying the rivers where the mountain-men came to set their traps for beaver; or cities growing up like mushrooms from a soil ​made quick by gold, where the hardy mountain-hunter pursued the buffalo herds in search of his winter's supply of food.
The wonderful romance which once gave enchantment to stories of hardship and of daring deeds, suffered and done in these then distant wilds, is fast being dissipated by the rapid settlement of the new Territories, and by the familiarity of the public mind with tales of stirring adventure encountered in the search for glittering ores. It was, then, not without an emotion of pleased surprise that I first encountered in the fertile plains of Western Oregon the subject of this biography, a man fifty-eight years of age, of fine appearance and buoyant temper, full of anecdote, and with a memory -well stored with personal recollections of all the men of note who have formerly visited the old Oregon Territory, when it comprised the whole country west of the Rocky Mountains lying north of California and south of the forty-ninth parallel. This man is Joseph L. Meek. to whose stories of mountain-life I have listened for days together; and who, after having figured conspicuously, and not without considerable fame, in the early history of Oregon, still prides himself most of all on having been a "mountain-man."
Most persons are familiar with the popular, celebrated Indian pictures of the artist Stanley; and it cannot fail to interest the reader to learn that in one of these Meek is represented as firing his last shot at the pursuing Savages. He was also the hero of another picture, painted by an English artist. The latter picture represents him in a contest with a grizzly bear, and has been copied in wax for the benefit of a St. Louis Museum, where it has been repeatedly recognized by Western men.
It has frequently been suggested to Mr. Meek, who has now come to be known by the familiar title of "Uncle ​Joe" to all Oregon, that a history of his varied adventures would make a readable book, and some of his neighbors have even undertaken to become his historian, yet with so little well-directed efforts that the task after all has fallen to a comparative stranger. I confess to having taken hold of it with sonic doubts as to my claims to the office; and the best recommendation I can give my work is the interest I myself felt in the subject of it; and the only apology I can offer for anything incredible in the narrative which it may contain, is that I "tell the tale as 'twas told to me," and that I have no occasion to doubt the truth of it.
Mr. Meek has not attempted to disguise the fact that he, as a mountain-man, "did those things which he ought not to have done, and left undone those things which he ought to have done." It will be seen, by referring to Mr. Irving's account of this class of men, as given him by Capt. Bonneville, that he in no wise differed from the majority of them in his practical rendering of the moral code, and his indifference to some of the commandments. Yet, no one seeing Uncle Joe in his present aspect of a good-humored, quiet, and not undignified citizen of the "Plains," would be likely to attribute to him any very bad or dangerous qualities. It is only when recalling the scenes of his early exploits in mountain life, that the smouldering fire of his still fine eyes brightens up with something suggestive of the dare-devil spirit which characterized those exploits, and made him famous even among his compeers, when they were such men as Kit Carson, Peg-Leg Smith, and others of that doughty band of bear-fighters.
Seeing that the incidents I had to record embraced a period of a score and a half of years, and that they extended over those years most interesting in Oregon history, as well as of the history of the Fur Trade in the West, I have concluded to preface Mr. Meek's adventures ​with a sketch of the latter, believing that the information thus conveyed to the reader will give ail additional degree of interest to their narration. The impression made upon my own mind as I gained a knowledge of the facts which I shall record in this book relating to the early occupation of Oregon, was that they were not only profoundly romantic, but decidedly unique.
In giving Mr. Meek's personal adventures I should have preferred always to have clothed them in his own peculiar language could my memory have served me, and above all I should have wished to convey to the reader some impression of the tones of his voice, both rich and soft, and deep, too; or suddenly changing, with a versatile power quite remarkable, as he gave with natural dramatic ability the perfect imitation of another's voice and manner. But these fine touches of narrative are beyond the author's skill, and the reader must perforce be content with words, aided only by his own powers of imagination in conjuring up such tones and subtile inflexions of voice as seem to him to suit the subject. Mr. Meek's pronunciation is Southern. He says "thar," and "whar," and "bar," like a true Virginian as he is, being a blood relation of one of our Presidents from that State, as well as cousin to other one-time inmates of the White House. Like the children of many other slave-holding planters he received little attention, and was allowed to frequent the negro quarters, while the alphabet was neglected. At the age of sixteen he could not read, lie bad been sent to a school in the neighborhood, where he had the alphabet set for him on a wooden "paddle;" but not liking this method of instruction he one day "hit the teacher over the head with it, and ran home," where he was suffered to disport himself among his black associates, clad like themselves in a tow frock, and guiltless of shoes and stockings. This sort ​of training was not without its advantages to the physical man; on the contrary, it produced, in this instance, as in many others, a tall, broad-shouldered, powerful and handsome man, with plenty of animal courage and spirit, though somewhat at the expense of the inner furnishing which is supposed to be necessary to a perfect development. In this instance, however, Nature had been more than usually kind, and distinguished her favorite with a sort of inborn grace and courtesy which, in some phases of his eventful life, served him well.
SUNSET AT THE MOUTH OF THE COLUMBIA.
There sinks the sun; like cavalier of old, Servant of crafty Spain,
He flaunts his banner, barred with blood and gold,
Wide o'er the western main;
A thousand spear heads glint beyond the trees
In columns bright and long,
While kindling fancy hears upon the breeze
The swell of shout and song.
And yet not here Spain's gay, adventurous host
Dipped sword or planted cross;
The treasures guarded by this rock-bound coast
Counted them gain nor loss.
The blue Columbia, sired by the eternal hills
And wedded with the sea.
O'er golden sands, tithes from a thousand rills,
Rolled in lone majesty —
Through deep ravine, through burning, barren plain,
Through wild and rocky strait.
Through forest dark, and mountain rent in twain
Toward the sunset gate;
While curious eyes, keen with the lust of gold,
Caught not the informing gleam,
These mighty breakers age on age have rolled
To meet this mighty stream.
Age after age these noble hills have kept,
The same majestic lines ;
Age after age the horizon's edge been swept
By fringe of pointed pines.
Summers and Winters circling came and went,
Bringing no change of scene ;
Unresting, and unhasting, and unspent.
Dwelt Nature here serene!
Till God's own time to plant of Freedom's seed,
In this selected soil ;
Denied forever unto blood and greed,
But blest to honest toil.
There sinks the sun ; Gay cavalier no more I
His banners trail the sea,
And all his legions shining on the shore
Fade into mystery.
The swelling tide laps on the shingly beach,
Like any starving thing ;
And hungry breakers, white with wrath, upreach.
In a vain clamoring.
The shadows fall ; just level with mine eye
Sweet Hesper stands and shines,
And shines beneath an arc of golden sky,
Pinked round with pointed pines.
A noble scene ! all breadth, deep tone, and power,
Suggesting glorious themes ;
Shaming the idler who would fill the hour
With unsubstantial dreams.
Be mine the dreams prophetic, shadowing forth
The things that yet shall be,
When through this gate the treasures of the North
Flow outward to the seat
CONTENTS.
PREFATORY CHAPTER.
Page.
CHAPTER I. Early Life of Meek — He leaves Home — Enlists in a Fur Company — On the March — A Warning Voice — Frontier Sports — Last Vestige of Civil- ization — On the Plains — A first Adventure — A firm Front — A Parley — The Summer Rendezvous — An enchanting Picture — The Free Trap- per's Indian Wife — Wild Carousals — Routine of Camp Life — Smoked Moccasins versus Green Ones — A " Trifling Fellow," - - - 41 CHAPTER II. The Camp in Motion — A Trapping Expedition — Opposition to the Hud- son's Bay Company — Beautiful Scenery — The Lost Leader Found — Rejoicings in Camp — The "Luck" of the Trappers — Conference of Leaders — The "Devil's Own" — Blackfoot Character — Account of the Tribes, ---.-----57 CHAPTER III. How Beaver are Taken — Beaver Dams — Formation of Meadows — Beaver Lodges — " Bachelors " — Trapping in Winter — " Up to Trap " — Black- feet on the Trail — On Guard — The Trapper's Ruse — A disappointed Bear — A Fight with Blackfeet — " Out of Luck — Alone in the Moun- tains — Splendid Views — A Miserable Night — The last Luxury of Life — The Awfulness of Solitude — A Singular Discovery — A Hell on Earth — A Joyful Recognition — Hard Times in Camp — The Negro's Porcupine — Craig's Rabbit — Deep Snows — What the Scout saw — Bighorn River — " Colter's Hell " — An Alarm — Arrival at Wind River — Christmas, - 64 CHAPTER IV. Removal to Powder River — A Trapper's Paradise — The Transformation in the Wilderness — The Encampment by Night — Meek takes to Study — ​Page:The River of the West.djvu/26 ​Page:The River of the West.djvu/27 ​Page:The River of the West.djvu/28 ​Page:The River of the West.djvu/29 ​Page:The River of the West.djvu/30 ​Page:The River of the West.djvu/31 ​Page:The River of the West.djvu/32 ​Page:The River of the West.djvu/33 ​Page:The River of the West.djvu/34 ​Page:The River of the West.djvu/35 ​Page:The River of the West.djvu/36
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse