Jim Bridger, “Our First Citizen”, II

Jim Bridger, "Our First Citizen" (Continued from the December Era, 19 13) BY PRESTON NIBLEY II Towards the close of the year 1849, William Drannan, then a young scout and trapper, asserts that he and a companion found Jim Bridger "laying around" at Taos, New Mexico : "We went to the house where Jim was boarding, and we found him in one of his talkative moods. We asked him what he proposed doing this winter; he said, 'I am going out trapping, and I want you boys to go with me.' "I asked him where he was going to trap, and he said he thought lie would trap on the head of the Cache-la-Poudre (a stream a little to the north of what is now Denver, Colorado), and the quicker we went the better it would be for us. 'I have all the traps we will need this winter,' he said; 'now you boys go to work and mold a lot of bullets.' " Thus from Drannan's account we get sight of our old hero once more, and are able to follow him a number of years. We learn that he trapped beaver during the winter of 1849-50 on the Cache-la-Poudre, had good success, and in the spring departed for Bent's Fort with his cargo of furs; says Drannan : "Here we met Kit Carson, who had just returned from a trip back east. Carson said to Bridger, 'Now, Jim, I'll tell you what I want you to do. I want you and Will,' meaning me, 'to go over to Fort Kearney and escort emigrants across to California this season, for the gold excitement back in the eastern states is something wonderful, and there will be thousands of emigrants going to the gold fields of California, and they do not know the danger they will have to contend with, and you two men can save many lives this summer by going to Fort Kearney and meeting the emigrants there and escorting them through. Many times you will seem to take your lives in your hands, for the Indians will be worse on the plains this year than they have ever been. I know, boys, you can get good wages out of this thing, and I want you to take hold of it, and you, Jim, I know you have no better friend than General Kearney, and he will assist you boys in every way he can. I almost feel as though I ought to go myself, but cannot leave my family at the present time; now, Jim, will you go?' Bridger jumped up, rubbed his hands together, and said, 'I'll be dog-goned if I won't — if Will goes with me.' " I like to think of these knights of the plains, these minute men in buckskin, these dauntless scouts and path-finders in the

430 IMPROVEMENT ERA Great West, ready on a moment's notice for any act of adventure that would prove productive of a good result. They came and they went at will. They seemed to bear a charmed life among the dangers that surrounded them, constantly alert for wild animals and savage tribes. For two seasons, now, during 1850-51, I learn that Brid°-er guided emigrants across the plains to California. His stipulation with the gold-seekers was that he receive $4.00 per day "pav every Saturday night." That he bore out the predictions of Kit Carson that he would save many lives, history amply shows. The emigrants of those years, whose one thought centered on the yellow metal of California, were almost without exception entirely ignorant of the dangers that might beset them on their long and arduous journey to the West. The first train that engaged Brido-- er was traveling promiscuously, without a captain, without scout's or guards. What he did for them is well illustrated by Drannan's further account : "There were four hundred eighty-six men and ninety women in the train, and they had one hundred and forty-eight wagons Everything moved smoothly until we were near the head of the North Platte river We were now in the Sioux country, and I began to see plenty of Indian signs. Jim and I arranged that a certain signal meant to corral the wagons at once. As I was crossing the divide at the head of the Sweetwater, I discovered quite a band of Indians coming directly toward the train, but I did not think they had seen it yet I rode back as fast as my horse could carry me. When I saw the train I signalled to Jim to corral, and I never saw such a number of wagons corraled so quickly, before or since, as they were. Jim told the women and children to leave the wagons and go inside the corral, and he told the men to stand outside with their guns ready for action, but to hold their fire until he gave the word, and he said, 'When you shoot, shoot to kill, and do your duty as brave men should.' "In a moment the Indians were in sight, coming over the hill at full speed. When they saw the wagons they gave the warwhoop. This scared the women, and they began to cry and scream, and cling to their children. Jim jumped up on a wagon tongue and shouted to the top of his voice, 'For God's sake, women, keep, still, or you will all be killed.' This had the effect that he desired, and there was not a word or sound out of them. When the Indians were within a hundred yards from us, their yelling was terrible to hear. Jim now said, 'Now, boys, give it to them, and let the red devils have something 'to yell about,' and I never saw men stand up and fight better than these emigrants. "In a few minutes the fight was over, and what was left of the Indians got away in short order. We did not lose a man, and only one was slightly wounded. There were sixty-three dead warriors on the field, and we captured twenty horses. "It was six miles from here to the nearest water, so we had to drive that distance to find a place to camp. We reached the camping ground a little before sunset. After attending to the teams and sta° tioning the guards for the night, Captain Davis came to Jim and me and said, 'The ladies want to give you a reception tonight.' Jim said, 'What for?' Davis replied, 'Saving our lives from those horrible sav-

JIM BRIDGER, "OUR FIRST CITIZEN" 431 ages.' Jim answered, 'Why, durn it all, ain't that what you are paying us for? We just done onr duty and no more, and we intend to do it all the way to California!'" The above portrays in graphic style the life of our old friend as a scout and guide. It shows that the Indian ways and wiles were fully known to him ; and how easy it was for him to face great danger unafraid. Many and varied were the experiences of this and subsequent trips. It is interesting to me that when Bridger arrived safely with his company in Sacramento valley, he left them and turned aga:n to the wilderness. The sight of civilization always discomforted him. Once, years later, he remarked to a friend in the city of Denver that he did not like the "canyons of the cities," meaning the narrow streets with the high buildings on either side. He was a path-finder, a forerunner of the home-builder ; for all the West was his home, and he was at peace where he chanced to find himself over night. In the fall of this same year, after Bridger had safely brought two trains of emigrants across the mountains to their destination in California, he and young Drannan made their way, by traveling nights and sleeping days, alone across what is now the state of Nevada, central Utah and southern Colorado, (then a hostile Indian country) to Taos, New Mexico. "On this trip" says Drannan, "we traveled some twelve or fifteen hundred miles, and we never saw a white person the whole way, and not even the sign of one." The following year, (1851) Bridger is heard of again at Fort Kearney, looking for opportunity to guide emigrants to the gold fields. He was readily engaged by the first train that came along. His easy, pleasant manner and exact knowledge of all conditions in the Indian country soon made him a favorite among the people. Drannan relates several instances of how Bridger amused the emigrants on this trip. The following one happened on a day when the party had been successful in killing a number of buffalo, and Bridger knew that with the coming on of night coyotes would be attracted by the carcases : "After we had finished supper Jim stood up, and in a loud voice said, 'Ladies, how many of you can dance?' I think there were asmany as twenty-five who answered T can dance.' Jim said, 'All right: cret ready, and after dark we will have lots of music' One of the men asked, 'Where are you going to get your music?' Jim answered, 'Why, dog-gon it. Will and Mr. Henderson have engaged a band to play for us tonight.' And in a few moments the band struck up in a coyote howl, and Jim laughed and said, 'There, didn't I promise you a band? Isn't that music?' And from then on until midnight the howling never ceased." One lively adventure after another occurred on this trip.

432 IMPROVEMENT ERA In an encounter with Indians, several of the red warriors were killed and scalped. Bridger thereupon showed the crowd how the scalp dance was done, much to their alternating delight and horror. In camp at Soda Springs he encouraged the people to drink of the bubbling water, and then stood by and watched with a smile the effect it had upon them. Friendly old Jim. When the party neared Sacramento Valley, the end of its long and arduous trip, Bridger and his companion explained that their services were no longer needed and they would return again to the wilds. Why did they not accompany these gold seekers, and also make their homes in the land of sunshine and flowers? They could not! The wild life of the hills, the great solitude of the plains, was their home. They had heard the "Call of the Wild" and they had answered. Can you see them? Can you follow them? Two dusty, dirt-begrimed, buck-skin covered travelers ; long and gaunt, their grey eyes searching the landscape, far and near ; their tired ponies plodding along over the sagebrush-covered valleys and hills on that little journey of fifteen hundred miles. At this juncture I lose account of old Jim again for a number of years, and have searched the records in vain for mention of him. Not until 1856, the year of the sufferings of our belated hand-cart pioneers, does his name appear, and this time in connection with our own people. President Young had looked upon the old trapper's "Fort," on Black's Fork of Green River, as a suitable base of supplies for emigrants, and in this year he bargained with Bridger for the purchase of it. In one of our Church records there is brief mention of the transaction : "President Brigham Young purchased of James Bridger a Mexican grant of thirty miles of land and some cabins known as Fort Bridger, for which he paid $8,000 in gold; the deeds of this property are still in his possession. He erected a stone fort and corrals for the protection of animals, and made other improvements on the ranch, expending about $8,000 more." What our old scout did with so much money in the country where he loved to roam is almost beyond my imagination. One writer who gives no definite dates, probably not finding any, says of Bridger, that "later in life he purchased a farm at Westport, a suburb of Kansas City, Missouri, but finding farming intolerable he returned to the mountains." I construe that his purchase must have been made about this time. In June, 1859, Captain Drannan asserts that he was with Kit Carson and Jim Bridger at the Cherry Creek gold fields, in Colorado. Denver at the time comprised only a few cabins, but "it was amazing," says Drannan, "to see the number of people that were coming in there every day." It was with wonderment that

JIM BRIDGER, "OUR FIRST CITIZEN" 433 Bridger regarded this scene. "Where in the name, of common sense do all these people come from?" he is said to have remarked. The wilderness was changing. A strange feeling it must have given the man who had known it more than thirty years in its natural, wild state. As it had been it was his home, but the encroachments of civilization verily meant that all that had made a life like his possible was passing away forever. Still he clung to the West, and shifted scenes as often as it was necessary to avoid the growing communities. From the above period of time until the end of the trapper's life I shall have to rely upon the acccount of Mr. Arthur Chapman, published in the Outing Magazine. The facts have been obscured from me, but were evidently well known to the writer. Says Mr. Chapman: "Bridger's greatest work as guide was done from 1865 through the war with Red Cloud in 1866. He was chief guide of the Powder river expedition, under General Conner, which penetrated the heart nf the hostile Indian country with the idea of so punishing the savages that travel over the Overland and Bozeman trails would be made safe. "Bridger guided Colonel Carrington to the Powder river in 1866 when that intrepid commander built Fort Philip Kearney in the very heart of the hunting ground of the great Sioux warrior, Red Cloud. This mighty warrior kept Fort Kearney in a state of siege for two years and made travel over the Bozeman trail a matter of the greatest hazard. "When the chief engineer of the Union Pacific had well nigh given up hope of getting his rails across the Divide, it was Jim Bridger who showed an available pass which he had traversed years before in his trapping days, and the existence of which no other white man knew. "At one time Bridger sought to leave the wild, free life of the West and settle down to a farmer's life. He bought a farm near Kansas City, but soon the plains called him, and he turned his face again toward the country he loved so well. It was not until hebegan to lose his eye-sight that the greatest' of trappers and guides left the wilds, to return no more. In 1870 he retired to his farm and waited for the end that was slow in coming. Almost totally blind he would mount an old horse,, and, accompanied by a faithful dog, would make the rounds of his farm. Sometimes he would wander away and the dog would run back to the house and whine until somebody would go in search of his master. There is a world of pathos in the thought of Bridger, once the keenest-eyed of men, thus groping and helpless in his old age. The end of all came July 17, 1881." I am told that a beautiful marble shaft, in the cemetery between Kansas Citv and Independence, Missouri, marks the resting place of our "old hero; that some years ago his body was rescued from an unknown grave by admiring friends and lowered a^ain amid ceremonies of respect and honor. Is it not a curious

434 IMPROVEMENT ERA coincidence that this old trapper, who was the first to spy out the land where we now reside, has for his last resting place a silent home within the confines of a land inseparably connected with our hopes and aspirations? That Jim Bridger was an exceptional man among the rude horde of trappers with whom he associated for so many years, is attested by all who knew him. Chittenden, in his book on the Yellowtsone Park says : "The common verdict of his many employers, from Robert Campbell down to Captain Reynolds, is that, as a guide, he was without an equal. He was a born topographer. The whole West was mapped out in his mind as an exhaustive atlas. Such was his instinctive sense of locality and direction that he could 'smell his way' where he could not see it." In Gunnison's book on the "Mormons" there is this of Bridger : "The Builder of Fort Bridger is one of the hardy race of mountain trappers who are now disappearing from the continent, being enclosed in the wave of civilization. These trappers have made a thousand fortunes for eastern men, and by their improvidence have nothing for themselves. Major Bridger, or 'Old Jim' has been more wise of late and has laid aside a competence, but the mountain tastes, fostered by twenty-eight years of exciting scenes, will probably keep him there for life. He has been very active, and traversed the region from the head waters of the Missouri to the Del Norte, along the Gila (which Bridger called the 'Helee'), to the Gulf and thence throughout Oregon and the interior of California. His graphic sketches are delightful romances." Captain H. E. Palmer, who kept a record of General Connor's expedition to guard the Montana trail, for which Bridger acted as guide, tells an interesting little story illustrating Bridger's possession of the "plainsman's eye :" "As I lowered my glass, the Major (Bridger) said, 'Do you see those columns of smoke over yonder?' I replied 'Where, Major?' To which he answered, 'Over there by that saddle,' meaning a depression in the hills not unlike the shape of a saddle, pointing at the same time to a point fully fifty miles away. I again raised my glass to my eyes and took a long earnest look, but for the life of me could not see any columns of smoke even with a strong field glass. The major was looking without any artificial help. The atmosphere appeared to he slightly hazy in the long distance, like smoke, but there were no distinct columns of smoke in sight. But knowing the peculiarities of my frontier friend I agreed with him that there were columns of smoke and suggested that we had better get off our horses and let them feed until the General came up. The General raised his glass and scanned the horizon closely. After a long look he remarked that there were no columns of smoke to be seen. The Major quietly mounted his horse and rode on * * * I galloped on and over-