Into the Savage Country (26 page)

“There are seven of you. Seven horses will guarantee that
you will make mischief. I will leave you four. That is enough to go for help, but not enough to make a nuisance of yourself, as the other three will be at our mercy.”

“There was a black thoroughbred among the horses,” Layton said. “Make that one of the four. We will need it if we are to survive the winter.”

“The black thoroughbred that was among the horses is a fine creature and is now picketed next to my lodging,” Pike said.

“That horse belongs to the son of Chief Long Hair,” Layton said. “It was loaned for the trip, and was to be returned by the mulatto Branch after our journey. It is not our horse.”

This was untrue, and Pike could have confirmed this by asking Grignon, but he did not want to see Grignon again and did not call him.

“It appears we will be wintering in the Crow encampment,” Layton said. “It will make their charity to us more palatable if we have not lost their prized animal.”

“I hardly need worry about your discomfort with the natives.”

“You do need to worry about their displeasure when they discover you have stolen their prized animal. That thoroughbred was the property of Chief Long Hair and is now the property of his son. The Crow will know you took it despite being informed of its true owner.”

Pike considered this silently. He knew it was foolish to unnecessarily anger a native chieftain. Without a word he walked back to his horse, unpicketed it, mounted, and said, “Agreed. Four horses. One of them the black. You will temporarily surrender your arms and withdraw from your positions. You see that single tree out in the flats.” He pointed at a scraggly cottonwood. “You wait there. My men will hold your weapons during that
time and will extract payment for your lives. Any variation and I will release the natives to do as they please.”

Pike wheeled slowly and rode away.

Smith turned to Layton. “I am glad you can still think of horseflesh.”

“I’m thinking of retrieving our furs.”

“With four horses?”

“Yes.”

“Explain,” Smith said.

“Let’s see if they find the cache first,” Layton said.

Smith did not question him further, and we all walked back to the crater. Smith advised the men to surrender their weapons and to walk out to the tree indicated. A minute later Pike’s men marched in with twenty-five beasts, and one by one led off our spoils from the entire year. At first they only found half of the pelts, the other half being hidden in the cache, but Grignon knew the size of our take and rode in and walked about inside the crater and into the canyon and through all its various channels and found the newly dug spot. Layton looked off at the wastelands cursing Grignon. Smith sat leaden and silent. That return had meant a secure life and many comforts for the entire brigade, and for me it represented a happy future with Alene. All of it was carried away in less than an hour.

After the last furs and most of our supplies had been removed, and only a few lead bars and dregs of a barrel of powder remained, Pike returned with two men leading four horses, one of which was the black thoroughbred I had won in the horse race. Pike rode past us and said to Layton, “It was truly a remarkable return for a season. Thank you for taking the trouble of gathering it for us. If I see you again my men will dispatch you. Good day.”

He motioned to the riders behind him. The first horseman rode up and tossed the halter of the black and struck Layton in the face with it. Layton reached for his pistol but it was not on his hip, as it had been surrendered. When the men were a hundred yards out one of them unrolled a robe and our guns and knives and pistols and hatchets clattered out onto the scrubland, all of them without powder or balls.

We waited until the riders were a smudge on the horizon and then we started out and gathered our weapons and returned to the crater. Our belongings were scattered and tossed into the muddy water. Many of our personal items had been taken. In the canyon we saw the Brits had trampled over Pegleg’s shallow grave.

When I talk about this now—I mean, this story of my friendship with Ferris and Layton and our unexpected foray into international affairs—this is the moment when men doubt my story. There are royalists who say that a respected and honored man like Sebastian Pike, second-in-command of the western branch of the Hudson’s Bay Company, would never risk an international conflict over the spoils of a single season of pelts from an obscure trapping company. All I can say is that it happened and it was not an illogical decision on his part. The greatest fear of the British was that an American brigade would arrive in St. Louis with an enormous return, which would set off a stampede to the trapping lands by the impulsive Americans, who seemed incapable of judging a situation accurately if there was the smallest possibility of making a fortune. And though the British government denied the assault happened, it did in fact happen just as I have written here. One man died from it, Pegleg Cummins, and we were left
stranded in the wasteland, seven men with four horses and little in the way of powder or balls. But Layton, with his habitual scheming, had considered a way to use the four horses, and particularly the black thoroughbred, to regain our fortune. As it turned out the future of the western half of our country, the best part of the country, I believe, may have rested on my horse, Ferris’s shot, and Layton’s powers of persuasion.

By midmorning, Layton, Ferris, Branch, and I were dashing back across the scrubland and by midafternoon we’d arrived at that region of rock elephants that we’d passed through the day before. We crept up the sloping back of the southernmost of the elephants and glassed the native encampment we had seen previously. It held fifty or sixty lodges and many horses in a corral beyond. After we had all taken a look, Layton said, “Three ride in. One stays behind and observes. You’re the fastest, Wyeth. If we perish you go north and east and find an American trapping company. You could be back here in a week with reinforcements and save the remains of the brigade.”

“And leave you to the natives?”

“If it comes to that, yes,” Layton said. “Whether we are three or four, we’re still hopelessly outnumbered. If we perish you can be the means of aiding the rest of the brigade.”

“The others have ample food and water,” I said. “They will be discovered regardless of whether I bring horses or not.”

“There is no certainty of that,” Layton said. “And if you keep yourself hidden we are assured that at least one of us will survive. You could still make it back to Fort Ashley before the turn of the year. Alene awaits—”

“Do you think I’d use Alene as an excuse to abandon the brigade in its most desperate moment?” I said.

“I am certain you wouldn’t, Wyeth, which is why I am attempting to reason with you, knowing you would not suggest it yourself.”

Layton caught Ferris’s eye and I understood they had spoken of it beforehand.

“There would be no shame in staying hidden, and much good sense,” Ferris said. “The fortune you’d receive from Alene is far greater than anything we’ve gathered here. These pelts mean less for you than they do for us. And another’s happiness depends on your survival. Stay hidden. Observe the parley. And if we are slain you remain with a horse to go for help.”

“Do you think I’d be such a coward as to let you three go without me? Smith, Glass, and Bridger will be discovered regardless. You know that. And if anyone is to stay at a distance it ought to be Ferris, as he has the best shot. I will not remove my gun from the negotiations out of self-interest.”

“Then do it for Alene,” Layton said. “If you perish you ruin two people’s lives. If I die I will make several parties exceedingly happy, including my father.”

“I hardly believe that,” I said.

“I feel it is more true than you know,” he said.

“I will not burrow into some hole while you risk your life,” I said.

“Well, someone ought to stay back,” Ferris said. “If it were Layton in your position he would have ridden off already, leaving us to our fate.”

“That is untrue and unjust,” Layton shouted. “Untrue and unjust and I resent the implication, Ferris. I demand you take it back. I am trying to save Wyeth’s life and using all means to
persuade him, but I cannot say I would scatter at this desperate moment. I would not and I cannot say I would.”

“You are wonderfully persuasive,” Ferris said.

Layton puffed himself up. “Persuasion is one thing. Self-incrimination is another. We are in the greatest wilderness known to man on the verge of dashing after a murderous rascal who has stolen our fortune. I can truly say I have never looked forward to any expedition more in my entire life. I would never leave the brigade at such a moment. Captain Smith has placed his trust in me and has given me the great honor of saying I’ve become an able trapper. Do you think I’d repay that compliment with personal cowardice? I’d rather die. I expected Wyeth would refuse. I was simply giving him the opportunity to be sensible. But I suppose none of us would be here at all if we had that malady. Bravo, Wyeth.”

Ferris made a derisive clicking sound as this bit of bravado did little to convince me to hold myself apart and much to aggrandize our desperate action. Henry Layton, who was known as a self-satisfied St. Louis dandy, was surprising us all by risking his life for the brigade, though he was also boasting about it shamelessly. That combination of bravery and puffing himself up with his own oratory had the distinctive imprint of Layton’s personality, containing equal parts daring, foolishness, and bragging. But for once Layton did not exaggerate about our situation. It was true that we were at the very center and tipping point of the world’s interest, and all our lives hung in the balance.

“You corncrackers ready?” Branch asked after a moment. He’d been on his elbows, surveying the native village. “Their scouts will spot us. It’s better if we approach on our own rather than being impelled.”

“If we ride to our death, let’s do it grandly,” Layton said.

We descended the back end of the “elephant” and mounted our horses and rode out with a sort of swagger, bolstered for a moment by Layton’s romantic bluster.

At five hundred yards Ferris was left in a natural fortification between two rocks and Layton, Branch, and I rode on another two hundred yards, and then dismounted and waited. Squaws and children had run out to the edge of the village. Dogs coursed around us, barking. Men on horseback, armed with muskets and bows, arrived at the outskirts of the village. Then the line of natives parted and a delegation rode out. They came slowly, on horseback, four men, wrapped in furs hats and buffalo robes, with another fifteen warriors following behind. Branch walked out to meet them and there was much gesturing and striking of chests and pointing at the black thoroughbred. This conversation, half in sign language, half in various native dialects, went on for ten minutes. Then Branch walked back to where Layton and I waited and said, “They’re willing to listen before they begin the depredations.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Layton said.

“But make no mistake. Red Elk means to eat your liver for dinner, Layton. You too, Wyeth. Save a bullet for yourself.”

The first native in the delegation had broken from the others and started toward us. I saw it was Red Elk, riding the same horse he had ridden in the race several months before.

When he arrived at our windswept spot he jumped off his horse and left it there without picketing it. He reached inside his furs and took out a pipe and lit it. He puffed on it slowly, then handed it to Layton who smoked and then handed it to Branch who smoked and then handed it to me and I smoked and then handed it to Red Elk who bent down slowly and turned it over
and tapped it on the ground a few times, then stood and refilled it and passed it around again, all in silence.

The pipe was secreted back in Red Elk’s robe, and Layton stepped forward and said, “I am certain your spies have told you that we have lost our horses and our furs. But I do not think you understand why we are here now, so give us time to speak.”

Branch translated, and when he was finished Red Elk waved at the picketed thoroughbred behind me, and spoke briefly. Branch translated.

“He says, ‘Chief Pike has taken your pelts and now you have come to offer me something that is already mine to try to get me to help you get back what Pike has taken from you.’ ”

Layton made an impatient huffing sound, and said, “Tell him the horse is not to bargain for. The horse is a gift. Tell him that.”

“I was just about to,” Branch said.

Branch spoke in the native tongue, and then Red Elk spoke at some length.

“He says he can take the horse whether it is a gift or not,” Branch translated. “And offering something to persuade can hardly be called a gift. He means to slit your throat, Layton.”

Layton turned to Red Elk.

“We are enemies. That is true. But you are also enemies with Pike. Am I right? You worked for Pike, and you wanted long guns, but he has not given them.”

Branch translated this to Red Elk, who said nothing, but by his silence we saw this was the case. This was Layton’s real gamble. He was sure that Pike would not have given Red Elk long guns, and that Red Elk would have resented it.

“Your land is being overrun,” Layton said. “You have only one choice. To fight and align yourself with the victor.”

“It appears that will be Pike,” Red Elk said in return.

“It appears that way but it will not be,” Layton said. “His men travel in large groups like antelope, numerous but skittish. We are like wolves. We travel in small packs and we hunt like you and sleep in the open like you and go where we please like you. The owners of the British company are in London, far away. Fat men who have never seen these mountains. We own our company. We work together and fight together and profit together. Just like you. Pike and his men will not leave the protection of a large company, but we go wherever we want and battle where we choose. And who we battle, we battle for ourselves. We ask you to join us in our fight against Pike, in retaking what is ours, and we will return the favor by giving you our long guns.”