Joe Meek by Stanley Vestal

Author:Stanley Vestal [Vestal, Stanley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Historical
ISBN: 9780803253155
Publisher: Bison Books
Published: 2013-09-16T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Preachin’ in Jackson’s Hole

THOUGH the old partners of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company had dissolved it, forming a new firm called Fitzpatrick, Sublette and Bridger, the trappers still used the old name as often as not.

On Green River, that summer of 1835, while awaiting the coming of the train from St. Louis, the partners of the old Rocky Mountain Fur Company and the American Fur Company joined forces. The Rocky Mountain Fur Company was in fact absorbed by the American Fur Company, and the new firm was so called. The merger—of men rather than assets—was intended to offer stronger opposition to the British Hudson’s Bay Company.

Bridger and Fontenelle were to be booshways in the mountains, and Drips was to bring the goods out from the settlements.

This agreement completed, Drips called for volunteers to help him find the St. Louis company, somewhere, he thought, between Green River and the Black Hills. It was a small party—Drips, Meek, Kit Carson, Doc Newell, Victor (a Flathead chief) and one or two others.

But they soon found sign that Crows, a war party one hundred strong, were on the trail before them.

Kit and Joe, more wary and cautious than the other men, merely loosened their horses’ girths at night but did not unsaddle. They tied the lariats of their horses around their own waists. Thus if the horse should be disturbed, its nervousness would be telegraphed at once to its owner, and certainly the horse could never pull up that picket pin!

At the earliest dawn Meek and the rest jumped up, deafened by a volley from a hundred fusees and the wild war whoops of the Crows. Away went the horses of all but Joe and Kit. These two, going hand over hand up the lariats to their horses’ heads, quickly mounted, dug in their spurs and high-tailed it out of there, leaving the Sandy far behind them.

Once clear of the Crows, they jogged on to the Sweetwater. There they found the Flathead chief who, though afoot, had reached the campsite before them. That night two or three others came in, and soon they went on towards Independence Rock.

Thereabouts the Injuns jumped them again, and again it was every man for himself. This time Kit and Joe turned back, and lost no time getting to camp. Only a few hours’ distance from the rendezvous they found Doc Newell, on Horse Creek. Doc was lost and tuckered out, just about ready to give in.

But by good luck, on Horse Creek they also found one of their own stampeded horses which the Crows had so frightened that they could never catch it. The horse was still spooky, but Kit and Joe managed to rope it. So Doc was able to ride.

Two days later all the others turned up in Bridger’s camp, tired out, disappointed, afoot, but otherwise none the worse, to sit and wait some more. With them waited large camps of Nez Percés and Flatheads, Utes and Snakes. But it was not till August 12 that Tom Fitzpatrick brought the goods to rendezvous.

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