The Crow country--A Crow paradise--Habits of the Crows--Anecdotes of Rose, therenegade white man-- His fights with the Blackfeet--His elevation--Hisdeath--Arapooish, the Crow chief--His eagle-- Adventure of Robert Campbell--Honoramong Crows BEFORE WE ACCOMPANY Captain Bonneville into the Crow country, we will impart afew facts about this wild region, and the wild people who inhabit it. We are not aware ofthe precise boundaries, if there are any, of the country claimed by the Crows; itappears to extend from the Black Hills to the Rocky Mountains, including a part of theirlofty ranges, and embracing many of the plains and valleys watered by the Wind River,the Yellowstone, the Powder River, the Little Missouri, and the Nebraska. The countryvaries in soil and climate; there are vast plains of sand and clay, studded with large redsand-hills; other parts are mountainous and picturesque; it possesses warm springs,and coal mines, and abounds with game.
But let us give the account of the country as rendered by Arapooish, a Crow chief, toMr. Robert Campbell, of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company.
"The Crow country," said he, "is a good country. The Great Spirit has put it exactly inthe right place; while you-are in it you fare well; whenever you go out of it, whicheverway you travel, you fare worse.
"If you go to the south, you have to wander over great barren plains j the water is warmand bad, and you meet the fever and ague.
"To the north it is cold; the winters are long and bitter, with no grass j you cannot keephorses there, but must travel with dogs. What is a country without horses?
"On the Columbia they are poor and dirty, paddle about in canoes, and eat fish. Theirteeth are worn out; they are always taking fish-bones out of their mouths. Fish is poorfood.
"To the east, they dwell in villages; they live well; but they drink the muddy water of theMissouri--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 ofbuffalo. In summer, it is almost as good as the Crow country; but in winter it is cold; thegrass 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 sunnyplains; all kinds of climates and good things for every season. When the summer heatsscorch the prairies, you can draw up under the mountains, where the air is sweet andcool, 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 fordressing; 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, youcan go down into the plains and hunt the buffalo, or trap beaver on the streams. Andwhen 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: oryou 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 theCrows. They can muster fifteen hundred fighting men, but their incessant wars with theBlackfeet, 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 hisparty, on their journey across the mountains to Astoria, who came near betraying theminto the hands of the Crows, and who remained among the tribe, marrying one of theirwomen, and adopting their congenial habits. A few anecdotes of the subsequentfortunes of that renegade may not be uninteresting, especially as they are connectedwith the fortunes of the tribe.
Rose was powerful in frame and fearless in spirit; and soon by his daring deeds tookhis rank among the first braves of the tribe. He aspired to command, and knew it wasonly to be attained by desperate exploits. He distinguished himself in repeated actionswith Blackfeet. On one occasion, a band of those savages had fortified themselveswithin a breastwork, and could not be harmed. Rose proposed to storm the work. "Whowill 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 wascomplete, and Rose returned to the Crow village covered with glory, and bearing fiveBlackfoot scalps, to be erected as a trophy before his lodge. From this time, he wasknown among the Crows by the name of Che-ku-kaats, or "the man who killed five." Hebecame chief of the village, or rather band, and for a time was the popular idol. Hispopularity soon awakened envy among the native braves; he was a stranger, anintruder, a white man. A party seceded from his command. Feuds and civil warssucceeded that lasted for two or three years, until Rose, having contrived to set hisadopted brethren by the ears, left them, and went down the Missouri in 1823. Here hefell in with one of the earliest trapping expeditions sent by General Ashley across themountains. It was conducted by Smith, Fitzpatrick, and Sublette. Rose enlisted withthem as guide and interpreter. When he got them among the Crows, he wasexceedingly generous with their goods; making presents to the braves of his adoptedtribe, as became a high-minded chief.
