Previous entries of Henri Julien's Diary

Aug. 14th-The day after the conference, we had an Indian dance; it was rather a queer exhibition. The men and women stood in a circle and sang some heroic exploits of their tribe. Then they hopped up and down in time, moving slowly from right to left. There was nothing to amuse or admire in it. We looked on, of course, and applauded, which pleased the performers a good deal. But the effect of our courtesy was, however, when some of our men took it into their heads to get up an opposition dance for the purpose of showing what they could do. The Indians gazed stoically awhile then got disgusted and left.

For the fellow who had fed his mind with Cooper, Schoolcraft, Longfellow and other poets or novelists, the sight of the Indian himself is a disappointment. In vain do you look for the type of a Pontiac or an Uncas. Still less are you blessed to behold a Pocahontas or a Minnehaha. The men are dirty and ugly, low browed, dull eyed and brutish in appearance. The women, even the budding girls, have not a single feminine grace. The man must be hard up indeed who takes such for wife. And still, like their sisters the world over, these women put on aires. They have a certain grotesque coquetry about they. They cast sheep's eyes at you and squint to see whether you are admiring them. If they catch you laughing at them, as is generally the case, their black eyes flash fire of indignation, and they strut away with an approach to offended dignity.

Aug. 15th-Young Morin, our new guide for the Cypress Mountains, arrived, having left Wood Mountain at 10 in the forenoon. He reached camp at 8 in the evening, having travelled 40 miles. He reported that the Boundary Commission depot on White Creek had been robbed by Sioux Indians. Furthermore, some of the men of the Boundary Commission, who had come on to Wood Mountain, reported that some Indians and one white man had been killed on the road. The latter was tied to a tree and gashed all over with knives.

It seems that the Blackfeet Indians did not fancy our coming into their country. In company of Morin were a Sioux and an American scout by the name of Morse. The latter excited a good deal of curiosity and some anxiety as to the objert of his visit. He represented himself as wanting work and wishing to hire himself as scout west of Cypress Mountain, stating that he knew all that country well and all about Bow River and its people. He informed us that the smugglers in that region were strongly fortified in block houses, with underground magazines and hiding holes.

Aug. 17th-Our Sioux friends broke up camp and moved a few miles up the creek, having been joined by Rising Bull and a few wigwams. Rising Bull is the son of Standing Bull, who was, in 1864-5, sub chief under White Bonnet. A couple of days later, we also moved off two miles and founded a Cripple Camp, where we left all our sick men and disabled horses in charge of Constable J. Sutherland and a couple of companions. Having thus provided, we made a spurt in the afternoon of 12 1/2 miles, which again brought us to Old Wives Creek. Here we received 15,000 pounds of oats from Wood Mountain, and forthwith rationed our horses thereon. At the rate of eight pounds a day, the poor brutes throve on the luxury for some time. This refreshment to our animals gave us a chance to push on our way more rapidly.

Aug. 21st-At noon-day halt we met two traders from Fort Benton, having in their company the missionary Father Lestanc, who was on his way to Fort Edmonton by Lake Qu'Appelle. These traders with Leveille and the Welsh brothers were to winter at this lake, not returning to Garry on account of the total destruction of the crops by grasshoppers.

Continuing our route we came to another branch of Old Wives Creek which was nearly dried up. It holds large quantities of sulphate of soda in solution, and no doubt silicate of soda, as well as petrified wood, clams and other articles all along its course. About three miles from it we found the petrified leg of a buffalo. A train of 26 carts belonging to two or three traders was camped in the neighbourhood. Our officers examined them as was their duty, but found no liquor. Honest traders!

Aug. 24th-We came to Lake La Plume, a small body of water containing sulphate of soda in light quantities. Ten miles more brought us to River du Courant, so called from tumultous course of its water in spring. It lies in a beautiful valley, but like the rest of the country is deficient in wood. We used ''prairie chips'' altogether.

Aug. 25th-We reached Cypress Hills and camped on the banks of one of several small lakes on the northern side. These hills lie between the 49th and 50th parallels, nearer the latter, and run on the edge of the great Missouri watershed. We remained there several days until the arrival of Macleod and Walker with 2,100 pounds of oats which they had gone forward to fetch.

Sept. Ist-We resumed our journey with fresh vigor.

Sept. 2nd-A special field day. Five buffalo bulls were brought down. Col. French particularly distinguished himself killing two, the largest of which furnished 955 pounds of ration meat. I was determined not to let the occasion slip without having my little fun also. Sallying forward with two companions, I reconnoitered among the gullies and bluffs for a considerable time without meeting any encouragement. My comrades fell back, but determining not to be baulked, I took courage and "went it alone". The road was very discouraging. The declivities and ravines were covered with boulders and cut up with holes. Scrambling through as well as I could, I at length thought I espied three black points in the far distance. I rode on in that direction and was re- warded by the sight of a grand skedaddle.

Three fine bulls leaped up from their lair and darted across the plain. Of course here was my chance and I followed. Two of the stronger bulls got away from me, but the third remained within range and I let fly at him. My first shot took effect but it did not retard the progress of the goaded animal. So away in his wake! A second successful shot, but still the brute pushed forward. He fell on one knee as he felt my second ball, but immediately rose and fled for his life.

I pursued a considerable distance and had a third shot which proved fatal. The noble animal stopped, fell, quivered and died. My companions standing on a hill watched my chase in the prairie below and when they beheld my success sent up a cheer. When I got off my horse to survey my victim, I found that I was nearly half dead myself. '

Riding at such a pace over rocks and drifts, holding a heavy rifle poised in my hands, loading and firing, anxiety and keen desire-all these had completely exhausted me, my back was nearly broken, my knees and ankles were peeled. And for my poor Old Rooster, to whose honor it must be said, that he did his whole duty on that eventful day, his flanks and belly steamed with sweat and blood. In my excitement I had spurred him unmercifully, and my rowels were all bent.

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