Pike Landusky - Conclusion

Originally published in the Hysham Echo on May 26, 1927 by Dan R. Conway

Go To Louis Riel for Help

Pike’s condition was serious. He was growing weak from the loss of blood. It was decided that some one must make a break for Fort Maginnis and summon a physician. To Hamilton, he being the most experienced trader, was allotted the task of remaining at the post in readiness to deal with the Indians if such an opportunity presented itself. Healy, who had cared for many a wounded man, assumed the responsibilities of nursing Pike; and to Boucher fell the hazardous task of hunting a horse and making his way through a hostile territory to Fort Maginnis. The Indians had made away with most of the saddle animals and if it developed that Boucher was unable to locate one, he was to make his way as best he could to a half-breed camp then located at the mouth of McDonald creek, about 15 miles below the post.

This half-breed camp was presided over by none other than the famous Louis Riel. Boucher was also to arrange with Riel to send 25 men to relieve the fort and another man to act as his (Boucher’s) companion. The snow was about ten inches deep and the weather was getting very cold. Boucher reached Riel’s camp about noon. Here he found about 100 cabins and in each of these was a family, and in some of them two - quite a settlement.

After much parleying persuasion on the part of both Boucher and Riel, some volunteers were secured, and the trader proceeded with a half-breed companion to Fort Maginnis. Arrived at Fort Maginnis, the post doctor was apprised of the situation and the return trip to Lucky Fort was made in record time on army mounts.

The doctor’s examination showed that Pike had been hit on the jaw just above the point of the chin, and that the jawbone had been broken completely in two. The bullet had been split in two by the bone, one part lodging in the neck below the ear, and the other going clear around and lodging in the back of the neck.

After setting the bone and dressing Pike’s wounds, the army physician returned to Fort Maginnis. For ten days there was no apparent improvement; so Dr. DePalm was summoned from Reed’s Fort (now Lewistown). Dr. DePalm decided that the jaw had been set wrong and that it would be necessary to rebreak it and set it again.
“Go ahead and break it,” said Pike; “if I die, I die.”

The second operation was a success, but Pike, because of his ungovernable temper, was confined to bed at Lucky Fort until the following April; his face was disfigured for life and he was the means of the four traders losing the trade of White Calf’s Piegans, which would have amounted to more than $5,000 in profits.

Opens Saloon in Maiden

Upon his recovery, in the spring of 1881, Landusky and Hamilton went to the new boom camp of Maiden, where they opened a saloon. Maiden, located in the heart of the Judith mountains, as then at the zenith of its prosperity as a promising mining camp. It was here that Pike married Mrs. Descry, a widow. “Pony” McPartlan, a well known character, who was justice of the peace at the camp, married the couple.

Finds Gold in Little Rockie

With “Dutch” Louis and Frank Aldrich, Pike went to the Little Rockies in July of 1884. They prospected for gold and located some placer leads in the bed of a creek that they named Alder. A mining district was organized, and the stampede which followed took more than 2,000 men to the various gulches of the Little Rockies. Eli Shelby, a negro, found the heaviest gold on a high rim, and William Skillen uncovered the biggest nuggets weighing $83. Landusky and Bob Orman are accredited with the first discovery of gold quartz, in Montana gulch, and the lead of the August, which in later years became a noted producer.

Pike at once moved his family to the Little Rockies, and while he was moving his goods and his family to the new location, there happened another of his characteristic adventures. At Rocky Point, a spindle of his wagon broke and he was forced to go up the river by boat to Fort Benton to procure another. Among his other possessions, he had with him at Rocky Point a pig, and he asked permission of the officer in command of a detachment of soldiers guarding government supplies at this isolated spot, to allow him to leave the pig at the soldiers’ camp while he was gone. The permission was granted; but the following day the soldiers at Rocky Point were relived and others took their place. The new officer directed the soldiers to kill the pig. The cook shot the animal in the foot; and when Pike retuned he noticed his porker limping around minus one foot. The enraged man ran down to the solders’ camp and kicked the pots and kettles, stove and everything else lying loose into the river. He followed this outburst by giving the officer a hearty cussing and then resumed his journey.

Works for Granville Stuart

Pike mined until 1886. During the summer of that year, he entered the employ of Granville Stuart, riding the range for the Pioneer Cattle company. During the terrible winter of 1886-87, Pike and “Teddy Blue” Abbott (the latter now of Gilt Edge, Montana, and a son-in-law of the late Granville Stuart), rode the range until April.
In the spring of ‘87 Landusky returned to the Little Rockies. His ranch was located at the mouth of Alder Gulch, and his mining interests there increased after the gold producing district was thrown open by the government, and he became prosperous.

Landusky

The mining camp for Landusky, the center of a wild and lawless border country, perhaps without equal, during its time, at any place on the continent, far removed from the more civilized sections of the territory, was the rendezvous of a number of real “bad men.” Among this questionable population was a man called “Jew Jake” who operated one of the principal saloons and gambling houses in the camp. Some time prior to this, Jew Jake had lost one leg, it having been shot off in a gun fight with George Treat, then marshal of the Great Falls district. And, at Landusky, Jake used a Winchester rifle for a crutch. As already described, it was in this notorious resort that Pike Landusky met his death.

Pike’s Death

Various stories have been told of the killing of Pike by “Kid” Curry, but the facts seem to be that after the Curry brothers and Landusky had had some trouble, the Kid was arrested for some misdemeanor and placed in charge of Pike who had been appointed deputy sheriff. Landusky took the “Kid” to Fort Benton for his trial and it is alleged that on the trip, Pike, in one of his spasms of passions, abused Curry in a shameful manner. Inasmuch as the two were then enemies, it is possible that this may be true. After returning from Fort Benton, Kid Curry and his friend, Jim Thornhill, went into Jew Jake’s place and found Landusky, and the latter was given a severe beating by the “Kid.” Pike, it is said, reached for his handkerchief with which to wipe the blood from his face, whereupon Curry shot him dead. “Kid” Curry said that he thought Pike was reaching for his gun.

Many stories have been told of Pike Landusky, accusing the man of brutality while under the influence of liquor of in one of his spells of temper. Perhaps some of them may be, to a certain extent, true. However, there was an unusually good phase to the man’s character, and this is attested by the scores of honorable men who today refer to him as a man of honor and by no means a character as black as some chroniclers would paint him. In some sense, much similar to Captain Jack Slade of Vigilante fame, he was a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on the old frontier; and efforts to make him out a “bad man” in most respects are entirely misleading.

Pike Landusky - Part 3

Originally published in the Hysham Echo on May 26, 1927 by Dan R. Conway

Trapper and Wolfer

It was in 1868 that Landusky pulled away from the Diamond R people and Last Chance. Forming a partnership with another soldier of fortune in the wilderness - John Wirt - he went down the Missouri river to the vicinity of the mouth of the Musselshell and engaged in trapping and wolfing. Wirt was a well known pioneer of the gold camps and in the Indian infested country of eastern central Montana. Level-headed, cool and fearless, he was quite the opposite type to the impulsive, reckless Landusky.

This new occupation furnished the youthful “Pike” with ample excitement from the very start. Hostile Sioux Indians were continuous in their raids upon the camps of white trappers and woodhawks at the mouth of the Musselshell, and trapping operations were ever attended by dangers of the most adventurous brand. By the late fall of 1868, Landusky and Wirt had accumulated fur worth more than $800 at the current prices and these they placed in a “cache” on Holly Flat, near the mouth of the Musselshell on the Missouri, while they made a trip to the new town of Carroll to secure supplies. With their furs and pelts they also hid their camp outfits and most of their other possessions.

Punishing a Sioux Warrior

During their absence a war party of 18 Brule Sioux discovered the “cache,” seized the camp outfit and cut the furs up for their own personal use as leggings, etc. Upon their return, as Landusky and Wirt approached the cache on Holly Flat, they were met by the Sioux war party. The Indians were all painted and striped for fight, and they surrounded the trapper pair, escorting them across the river, the chief designating a place for Landusky and Wirt to camp. They were prisoners, but on their refusal to give up their guns, the matter was not vigorously pressed by the Sioux.

The white men were given some buffalo meat, and Landusky cooked it for supper for himself and Wirt. As it was frying in the pan, a Sioux reached over “Pike’s” shoulder and seized the meat for himself. Thereupon, Landusky flew into one of his uncontrollable fits of passion. Seizing the heavy frying pan, he struck the Indian over the head with it, splattering him with grease. Then grabbing his gun, he pocked it into the Indian’s stomach and knocked him down. He then seized the Indian by the breech-clout, pulled it off and whipped him over the head and face with it. This was the worst insult he could offer an Indian warrior.

At once Wirt concluded that the end for both of them had arrived, but he resolved to die gamely; and while the fight was in progress, he stood by cool and determined, with his rifle cocked and lying over his arm. The Sioux chief rushed over and told him to make Landusky stop at once. “My young men’s hearts are bad and they will kill you both,” he said.
Wirt merely pointed to Landusky who was still punishing the warrior, and said “wha-sta,” meaning “It is good.”

Bad Medicine

At this moment, while the Sioux were hurrying over from their camp one of the warriors pointed to Landusky and made the sign for “crazy man.” He believed (and very reasonably so) that only a man without his senses would take such chances. This explanation of “Pike’s” ungovernable rage was accepted by the remainder of the Sioux; and as all plains Indians were possessed of a superstitious fear regarding a crazy person, and as it is against their medicine and religious beliefs to harm a person so afflicted, they immediately caught up their horses and fled. This war party of the Sioux were on their way to the Crow country to steal horses, and they sought the good favor of the Great Spirit on such an expedition. Thus, they wanted to be free from the influences of a crazy man. Ten days later, they returned after a successful raid, and presented Landusky and Wirt with 16 horses to compensate for the harm they had done them by destroying their furs.
From this day forward, however, despite the amends made by this war party, the hatred of Pike and his partner for the Sioux knew no bounds, and Pike thereupon declared a feud against these particular tribesmen that lasted for years. To the time of his death he hated the Sioux nation.

“Flopping Bill”

These two continued to trap together for some time with good success; but finally they parted. Three years following this incident with the Sioux war party, Landusky started out in pursuit of the inglorious profession of horse thief. In this capacity he operated with another noted character of those early days - a man whose real name was William Cantrell, but who was known on the cattle ranges and along the river a “Flopping Bill.” Cantrell was undoubtedly as tough a character as you could have found in a week’s ride in those parts. Later he gained considerable notoriety as a contracted executioner of horse and cattle thieves. At the time he and Landusky became partners, he was a wolfer and woodhawk on the Missouri.
Landusky and “Flopping Bill” started down the Missouri toward Polar river, and quite suddenly and unexpectedly encountered a party of three or four Sioux Indians coming up the river. Pike recognized among their number the Indian who had taken his meat from the frying pan three years previously. In an instant he had thrown his rifle to his shoulder and shot the warrior through the heart. The other members to he Indian party beat a hasty retreat, and Pike proceeded at once to scalp his victim. Not content with this, he cut the body open, extracted the Indian’s bladder, and later tanned it, using it for a tobacco pouch to the day of his death.

Lucky Fort on Flatwillow

Pike, during the years which followed divided his time between trapping, hunting and woodhawking till 1880, when with a man by the name of Joe Hamilton, and an Indian trader named John Healy he built old Lucky Fort trading post on Flatwillow creek, about 70 miles southeast of Lewistown. It was at this post and on December 8, 1880 that Pike was crippled and almost lost his life. Joe Hamilton was a man of iron nerve, but withal jovial and kind. In his head flashed a pair of dark, steel-gray eyes, which seemed to look clear through you; and at once commanded unqualified respect. He was a natural born leader, having command over both white and Indian wherever he happened to be. Joe was married to an Indian woman, whom he had named “Pocahontas,” and that added to his standing among the natives.

That autumn following the completion of Lucky Fort, a hunting party of about 150 Piegans and 20 squaws under the leadership of White Calf arrived at the post; the white men were driving a good trade with the natives and business bore promising aspects until -

At this particular time there were four white men at the post, Pike Landusky, Joe Hamilton, John Healy and Him H. Boucher. Pike and Healy had been up all night dealing with the Indians who refused to leave the fort so long as they had furs to trade and the supply of trade goods held out. It seems that after some parleying, trouble arose between Pike and a young Piegan brave. (Landusky afterwards declared that the warrior tried to stab him in the back.) At any rate, he knocked the young Indian down, and in the throes of one of his typical fits of rage, hurled chunks of wood at him. The Indian escaped into the brush. Immediately pandemonium broke loose. Healy made a flying run for Hamilton and Boucher, who were eating breakfast in the kitchen which was housed in a separate building. When Hamilton arrived at the store, White Calf and a subchief named Running Rabbit were coming out and he noticed that the two Indians were bleeding from cuts about the head. Pike was shouting loudly and seemed transformed into a veritable demon. Joe closed the door and shouted to Pike: “Now keep that door locked and your mouth shut, and this thing will blow over in a little while.”

Battle of Flatwillow

Leaving Pike alone in the store to cool off, Healy went to the kitchen while Hamilton proceeded to try out his diplomatic powers with the Indians. He was apparently succeeding very well when White Calf appeared upon the scene and announced his intention to go to the store. Joe protested, but immediately a number of Indians picked him up bodily and carried him to a wagon that was standing between the kitchen and the creek. There they laid him down. He immediately got to his feet and fled to the kitchen.

About this time, White Calf secured a small tree and started to paraded up and down in front of the store. The sapling was about 12 feet long and White Calf was dragging it by the small end. Suddenly he stopped beside the door and crashed the stick through the small window which furnished light for the room.

Pike Wounded

This was evidently too much for Pike. He snatched a Winchester from the gun rack and advanced to the window which was so small that he was able to get only his head and one shoulder through. In this position, however, he opened a lively fusillade in the vicinity. He shot three times at White Calf, who ran dodging, and was not hit. At this moment, the young Indian who had been a party to the first altercation, and who had been awaiting his opportunity, shot at Pike from cover of the brush. The bullet struck Landusky on the chin, shattering the right jawbone.
Pike jumped back into the trade room, and when Healy and Hamilton who had heard the shooting, rushed into the post, they found Pike sitting on the floor loading his Winchester.
“Are you hurt, Pike?” asked Joe.
The answer was something that sounded like “Yes.” Then both Pike and Hamilton opened fire upon the Piegans. The first shot from Pike’s gun dropped an Indian and this unfortunately happened to be White Calf’s squaw; but that was his last shot in this “Battle of Flatwillow,” for before he could reload his weapon, another Indian’s bullet found a mark in his body.
“Joe, I’m gone!” he said, as he grabbed the counter for support. His companions then assisted him to a bunk. Just after this had been accomplished, Pike flew into another of his fits of rage over his condition. Clutching his mouth with his fingers, he gave a yank and threw something hard upon the floor. From his jaw, a piece of shattered bone, to which were attached flour teeth. This he had thrown away. (Cont. next week)

Pike Landusky - Part 2

Of the Most Rugged Type of Adventurers on the Old Frontier; The Mining Camp that Bore His Name and was the
Roughest Settlement in America; Pike’s Thrilling Experiences in the Little Rockies; An Uncontrollable Temper Hastened His Death

(Cont. from last week)

Originally published in the Hysham Echo on May 26, 1927 by Dan R. Conway

For a few moments they feigned a fine indifference, but they could not entirely conceal their nervousness. With ears strained they were listening for sinister sounds, but they refused to dare even a glance at the two principals of a scene which certainly must sooner or later transpire. The two men drank and then -
There was a lull and then a shuffling of moving feet when the “Kid” slowly made his way to where “Pike” stood with elbow upon the bar. Without words, the “Kid” struck “Pike” a terrific blow and then, with a speed that took the deputy off his guard, floored the man. “Pike” received an unmerciful beating, and when “Pike” reached for his handkerchief to wipe the blood from his face, the “Kid” whipped out his revolver and shot the prone man through the heart. Thus ended a career perhaps without parallel in the annals of frontier history.

The Little Rockies

One of the most interesting and romantic sections of Montana, and one of the last areas to be tamed by the forces of an advancing civilization is the Little Rocky Mountain country in what is now Blaine and Phillips counties. Slightly off the beaten paths of modern-day traffic, this district is probably less familiar to Montanans than any other such historic section of the Treasure state.

With its gold mines which have produced millions of dollar, its adjoining ranges where in days gone by sheep and cattle men staged their bitter and bloody feuds; its historic ranches where cattle thieves, road agents, train robbers - the “bad men” of thirty years ago - maintained their headquarters and rendezvous; and its murder mysteries, the Little Rockies area stands second to none in romance of the most exciting order.

Famous Gold District

The Little Rockies comprised one of the richest gold district of Montana. The Ruby Gulch Gold Mining company of Zortman, the August Gold company at Landusky, the Fergus Mining company, the Rawhide, the Ninety-Six and other mines produced fortunes for their owners. It was not until the early nineties that mining was carried on in this district, the first claim of any importance being located and worked by Bob Orman and Pike Landusky. It was in honor of the later that the mining town in America, was named. In a very short time Orman and Landusky took $42,000 from their claims, despite the fact that they were forced to work under difficulties. The leads they had uncovered were located within the borders of Fort Belknap reservation, and they were consequently forced to work for the most part under cover of night, sacking their ore and transferring it on packhorses to the nearest railroad point, from where it was shipped to Aurora, Ill., for treatment in the smelters there.

The news of the strike spread and a stampeded followed. Isolated as that section was, the new mining district attracted a motley crowd of miners, gamblers and adventurers in search of gold and the excitement which always followed in the wake of a new discovery. Prospectors, trappers and cowboys were followed to the new location by robbers, horse thieves and others who came to Landusky to drink and gamble and ply their nefarious arts. Much of the whiskey that was sold at old Landusky, it has been said, was of local manufacture and was a liquid not at all conducive to peace and harmony. Gun fights were frequent occurrences and life was held even more lightly for a time than in the older gold camps of the Vigilante days. And, many a plot of ground in that part of the Little Rockies, with marks now effaced by time and the elements, is the site of a miniature “boothill” cemetery.

A Boothill Cemetery

Away up on the crest of these Little Rockies in the center of a wind-swept plateau, is one of the boothill plots in which are two lonely graves surrounded by a weatherbeaten picket fence. And, today, if the bones that have moldered in these narrow trenches for thirty years or more could rise, take form and speak, they could unfold a story of romance, of the lure of yellow metal and frontier adventure, of passions aroused by the presence of new-found wealth, of jealousy kindled by the light of women’s eyes, of gunplays and assassinations, of a feud that attained national notoriety, of brigandage and marauding all culminating in the inevitable penalty of the transgressor. Here in this little plot rest the bones of “Pike” Landusky, shot down in Jew Jake’s saloon by a member of the Curry gang; and here lie the remains of Johnny Curry, one of the famous Curry trio.
Down the slope and but a gunshot’s distance from this little boothill cemetery stands the now “ghost city” of Landusky, once the theatre of those stirring events which divided Northern Montana into two camps, and from which radiated the escapades of the Curry gang, reaching across the continent and into the far away republic of Argentine.

The Death of John Curry

The story of the Curry boys and their adventurous life in Montana has become common knowledge. This John Curry was found final resting place in this secluded and protected spot, came to Montana from Missouri in the early eighties to join his brothers who had already sought out the wilds of that new country, much because of the fact that the more civilized sections had become unhealthy places of abode. Soon after his arrival in the upper Missouri region, John Curry began to cultivate a reputation as a bad man. One day, while indulging in a pastime not uncommon in Landusky - that of shooting up the town - a cowpuncher shot one of his arms off. Not satisfied with this punishment, Curry some months later declared war against a rancher by the name of Jim Winters, who lived nearby. Curry ordered Winters to leave his ranch, giving him but a limited time in which to so do. Armed with a rifle one day, he rode up to the Winters ranch house, with the evident intention of killing Winters, However, the tables turned on the aggressor, and the rancher shot the desperado twice with a shotgun, inflicting mortal wounds. Later, the famous “Kid” Curry, seeking revenge for the death of his brother killed Winters from ambush.

During the years from 1870 to 1884, long after law and order had come to western Montana mining camps, in the days when border lawlessness reigned throughout Central and Northern Montana, when were enacted many dramas in which the principal actors were desperadoes, sheriffs, horse and cattle thieves and vigilantes, Pike Landusky was an outstanding figure. Scenes which were common enough along the trails leading to and from old Bannack and Virginia City, in the early sixties, were frequently reenacted in the Judith Basin, along the Lower Musselshell and in the Milk River valley and the wilds of the Little Rockies; and “Pike” lived the life.

Powell “Pike” Landusky

Powell “Pike” Landusky used to say that he was half French and half Polish. He arrived at Fort Benton on a steamer in the spring of 1864, and proceeded to Last Chance Gulch (now Helena), but not until he had fittingly celebrated his arrival in the new west by a fist fight on the levee at Benton in which, it is said, he nearly killed a steamer roustabout.
Then a lad of but eighteen years, Landusky was in the prime of his youth. He was a long, lank, green country boy. In fact, as one old-timer put it, he was so green looking that after his arrival at Last Chance, he was continually the butt of miners’ jokes. It was because of this “kidding” that he one day received the peculiar cognomen which remained with him until the day of his death. One miner in particular had been most active in teasing the “tenderfoot kid.” This miner was a bully and of the type that never knows when to stop. One day, in the course of his nagging, he asked Landusky:
“Whar be yu from ennyhow, Kid?”
This aroused the patriotic pride of the boy and with a terrific blow he knocked the bully down, answering as he did so: “From Pike county, Missouri, by ____!”
That settled it; he was “Pike” to the day he “cashed in.”
From Helena, Pike drifted into the employ of the Diamond R Freighting outfit and later into trading for himself. It was while engaged in the latter business that occurred many of the episodes which made him famous among the coterie of typical Montana frontiersmen.

His Besetting Weakness

“Pike” was noted for three qualities which he possessed, each in a most marked degree. He was the soul of generosity when a friend was involved. On the other hand, he was the bitterest and most uncompromising of enemies. Lastly and most unfortunately for the man, no man in Montana ever had an equal reputation with him for ungovernable temper and fits of rage and passion. This trait came near to causing his death on a score of different occasions, and was perhaps the quality which led to his untimely death at the hand of “Kid” Curry in Jew Jake’s saloon at Landusky.

(Cont. next week)

Pike Landusky

Of the Most Rugged Type of Adventurers on the Old Frontier; The Mining Camp that Bore His Name and was the Roughest Settlement in America; Pike’s Thrilling Experiences in the Little Rockies; An Uncontrollable Temper Hastened His Death

Originally published in the Hysham Echo
on May 26, 1927 by Dan R. Conway

It was the middle of a hot afternoon in the hottest part of the year. As is so often the case this sort of day, the air seemed dead and stifling. Black heat waves typical of the parched foothill region, danced and dazzled on the dusty trail that led over rocks, up the rise into the straggling pines of the Little Rocky mountains.

This main and solitary thoroughfare of the little town of Landusky, M.T., lined as it was on either side by the false-fronted and crudely constructed log and frame buildings was a typical frontier settlement street. It stretched straight along the bottom of the rock strewn hill; was deep in dust and lay littered with torn playing cards, empty bottles and debris.

That afternoon, the atmosphere was far from normal. A silence and oppressiveness that had settled over Landusky was much akin to the fabled “calm before a storm.” Now and then, little puffs and whirlwinds of hot breeze sent dust and sand and trash flying in all directions; and more than often the restless old prospector on the steps of Jew Jake’s saloon nervously brushed the perspiration from his eyes with a gnarled hand that seemed to be held especially free for action with two guns which he was wearing in a manner that indicated they were ready for instant use should occasion demand it.

Calm Before the Storm

The tie racks in front of Jew Jake’s place were filled with range mounts, much as they had been from time to time on any pay day, and the different saloons, gambling houses and other resorts were fairly filled with punchers, cattlemen, prospectors, and not a few characters whose escapes had given them reputations as “bad men.”

However, this was by no means an ordinary payday in Landusky. Horses and ponies at the several hitching racks, stood with rolling, evil eyes, ever alert, ready to fly out over the rise at any instant, and seemed to sense the impending storm. Range hands had ridden in from distant ranches to make their monthly purchases and seek the diversion offered in such a settlement, most of them with no knowledge of the fact that during the preceding weeks certain events had transpired in the neighborhood of Landusky, which portended a veritable jarring loose of the gates of Hades.

The “Kid”

Far up the winding trail that led from old Fort Benton to the metropolis of the Little Rockies, rode a silent, sullen figure. “Kid” Curry was on his way to Landusky “for revenge.” Riding slowly down the dusty road he made his way in his customary deliberate manner to the shack of his friend and admirer, Jim Thornhill. The two were closely allied as was customary of frontier companionships and no word of explanation was necessary from the “Kid” when he asked”
“Is Pike in town, Jim?”
“I think he’s up at Jew Jake’s with the crowd, now, Kid; this is payday, you know.”
Without further words, the two made their way across the hot, sandy thoroughfare, paused at the hitch rack to examine the horses tied there, and then mounted the steps and entered the saloon.

Jew Jake’s place was filled with men of every type to be found in those days in the wide-open, lawless spaces of central and Northern Montana. Down at the farther end of the bar stood a man who towered far above the rest. He was an admirable example of human physique; tall, erect, virile, he seemed for all the man capable of giving a good account of himself in any emergency. “Pike” Landusky had had trouble with the Curry boys. A short time previous the “Kid” had been arrested for some misdemeanor and placed in charge of Landusky who had been appointed deputy sheriff, to be taken to Fort Benton for trial. Some have said that “Pike” had abused the “Kid” in a shameful manner, and because of this abuse, Curry had sworn to be revenged.

The Climax of An Old Feud

When the “Kid” and Jim Thornhill threw back the swinging door and walked up to the bar, a nervous hush settled over the crowd, for the men knew an explosion was inevitable but wondered just which and what would cause it. - - (Cont. next week)

 The Graves of Pike Landusky and John Curry

One Montanan who visited the site of this significant burying ground in the Little Rockies a few years ago happened accidentally to get in touch with a really entertaining source of information as regards some of the incidents which made old Landusky famous thirty years ago. In commenting upon his trip, this old-timer said:
“Two lads, one dangling a string of trout and the other a mammoth human skull on the end of a string, emerged from the willows of People’s creek soon after we entered the picturesque canyon, which is the gateway to the heart of the Little Rockies.
“No, they hadn’t robbed the Indian graves that stuck like huge bird nests in the forks of the cottonwood. They had found the skull in the river bed, where, no drought, it had been thrown by some vandal who had desecrated the uncanny roosts of these warriors of bygone days.
“ ‘Did you ever see such a skull, mister?’ I certainly never had. ‘He must have worn a No. 10 hat,’ said the other lad. ‘No hat ever defiled that dome,’ I observed, but if it did, it was at least a No. 10. Both rows of teeth were intact; not one missing and not one decayed, but all worn almost to the stump and as evenly as if done by a file. The old meat eater who once wore them had polished many a buffalo bone with that set of ivories.
“With two such guides it was easy to reach the places about which I had heard so much. Standing beside the grave of Johnnie Curry, the Buckley boys spelled each other in the narration. They knew the whole story. Down there was the town called after Pike Landusky, prospector, miner, adventurer and dead shot. There was the place where Johnnie Curry, shooting up the town, was plugged in the arm by a cowpuncher, who thus obliged Johnnie to wear an empty sleeve during the remainder of his checkered career.
“There was Jew Jake’s saloon where gun plays were so common that nobody noticed them. There was where the ‘Kid’ knocked down Pike with a ‘clout of his gun’ and then shot him, because (so he said at the coroner’s inquest) he thought Pike was reaching for his artillery. Pike, it subsequently developed, had no gun and was reaching for a handkerchief to wipe his blood-smeared face.
“There was the Gill & Winter ranch and there was the log cabin up to which, one sunny morning, Johnnie Curry rode and gave Winter 48 hours to vamoose or he would come back and get him. And there was the spot where, 48 hours later, Winter emptied both barrels of buckshot into Johnnie’s body, after the latter had opened fire. And here was the spot where Winter stood just outside his cabin door one Sunday morning brushing his teeth when he was shot from ambush - a murder unpunished to this day.
“There was where Lonie Curry used to live before he became a fugitive from justice and fell mortally wounded in a garden near Kansas City while running away from a W. S. marshal.
“The day before I had stopped at the place where Kid Curry, single handed, had held up the Great Northern train and had taken from the express car money and valuables variously estimated at from $60,000 to $160,000.
“The Buckley boys demonstrated that it was quite safe to cross the natural bridge, which is at one end of the tunnel that makes the picturesque canyon. It was quite safe, for a goat, but they both did it, and when they climbed back into the car I felt relieved.
“As we passed another grove near St. Paul’s mission we came to a cluster of graves - the boys said graves don’t have to be in holes in the ground, nor yet in trees, for here were some on top of the ground, rough boxes, broken open by curious relic hunters. In a coulee adjoining, bones lay littered where the coyotes had polished them. I tried to think they were the bones of cattle, but the evidence was too plain. The skulking prairie wolves had demonstrated why the Indians of the last generation preferred to be perched in treetops.”

Musselshell City - Conclusion

Cont. from last week

(By Dan R. Conway)

Originally published in the Hysham Echo May 19, 1927)

“Indians!”

Just about a half an hour after his departure, the alarm, “Indians!” went forth and every man seized his rifle and ammunition, prepared for another battle. The Sioux were plainly visible on their galloping ponies rounding the top of a rise not far from the settlement - a rise over which the Fort Benton trail passed, and to the crest of which the Frenchman was climbing totally unconscious of the peril which confronted him. He was in full view of the whites below; and these sought by shouting to warn him of the impending danger. However, unhearing and unheeding he plodded on his way. Unsuccessful in their attempts to warn the man, and discerning the deliberate preparations of the Sioux to kill him, the white men stood a few minutes in doubt. Then, as though by common impulse, they leveled their guns and opened fire upon the Frenchman. The believed that his destruction was inevitable, and it was thought better that a friendly hand should speed the bolt and thus deprive the Sioux of their expected triumph.

A Miraculous Escape

The bullets rattled around the Frenchman like hail, but he seemed to bear a charmed life, and he continued steadily on up the hill. Presently he came face to face with the waiting reds. They dashed upon him and a Sioux warrior struck the man across the face with the flat side of a sabre. This seemed to rouse the Frenchman from his stupor. With a tremendous bound he cleared the throng and leaped down the steep hillside. The Indians, surprised, rode after him, but he seemed unusually fleet of foot and they could not overtake him on the slope. By this time, the whites took advantage of the situation which had lured many of the Sioux close to the settlement, and they opened up a hot fire upon the reds. This checked the Sioux and the frantic, breathless Frenchman was enabled to reach the town in safety.

Hopes Fade

During the summer of 1870, the Montana Hide & Fur company closed its doors and one by one the other traders and the woodhawks left the scene of vanished hopes. In August, Colonel Clendennin found himself alone with a few employees and his establishment. Musselshell City, as a town, had ceased to exist, and Fort Benton proceeded to prosper just the same as though no effort had been made to deter her progress. However, Colonel Clendennin was a man of great determination. He proposed to remain at his fort at the mouth of the Musselshell and he here rebuilt a strong fortified post. For four years he remained resolutely in this dangerous region with a garrison from five to eight men. He traded with the Indians and conducted a woodyard.

Fort Sheridan

Volumes could be written about the narrow escapes and experiences at Fort Sheridan as Colonel Clendennin called his post. There were some further tragedies, as well. During the winter of 1870-71 Colonel Clendennin went to Fort Ellis as post trader and during his absence he left Tom Bogy in charge of the post at the mouth of the Musselshell. About the first of January, Bogy sent an old mountainman named John Ross across the river to procure an ash pole to be used as a wagon reach. The man was accompanied by Charles McKnight. Young McKnight had just come up the river from the east. Night came and the men failed to return to the post. Early the following morning a search party proceeded to the river bank where they found both men had been killed. Ross had been shot while he was sitting down while McKnight had made a run for the brush and was shot down.

The following season a man by the name of Hunter, who, with three Assiniboine squaws, was looking over the battlefield of 1869 was attacked by the Sioux. The squaws were all killed but Hunter escaped with severe wounds.
When the townsite of Carroll was platted out at a point between the mouth of the Judith and the mouth of the Musselshell in May, 1874, Colonel Clendennin dismantled Fort Sheridan and moved his business to the new town.

Sioux Militant to Last

Even then tragedy stalked boldly at the mouth of the Musselshell; for, when Colonel Clendennin had sent two men, Chris Gates and Pat Vaughn down to dismantle the remaining buildings, the pair were surprised and killed by the lurking Sioux. Indication were that Gates had been killed in the open while Vaughn, who had sought shelter in one of the buildings, was burned to death.

Pioneer “War Correspondence”

In the files of an old Montana newspaper, the Weekly Herald, published in Helena in 1869, there appear several letters from a correspondent located at the mouth of the Musselshell. These articles have to do mainly with the Indian warfare herein referred to. They were headed: “Down the River,” and are here reprinted in the vernacular:
“Muscleshell, April 27, 1869 - All the sufferers from the late Indian raid, so far as bodily injury is concerned, have nearly recovered, excepting the woman who was scalped. She is doomed to wear a wig the rest of the days while Mr. Lo (the noble red man who the government arms and feeds) dances and shouts his war songs around that portion of her physical economy that once adorned her upper works. But such is life and such will be the condition of things just as long as the Northwest Fur company are allowed to conduct Indian affairs and control Indian agents along the river. When it comes to protection against the ruthless savages we have only our own nerves and trusty rifiles.”
“May 1st, 1869 - To the Editor: I wrote you a communication on the 23rd of April and which I sent out by our private mail, but the friendly Assiniboines, that recently scalped Jordan, Long and Foster, and wounded “Big Dan” at Joe Bushaway’s woodyard, took possession of the letters and papers destined for Helena and I fear they must have neglected to forward them in the right direction.

“On the 29th of March a party of men from Thompson Gulch and Diamond City arrived here from the Black Butte where they had been wolfing and had been surprised and attacked by Major Collin’s contented, reconstructed, friendly Crows. They were compelled to fight incessantly for three days and finally creep away in a dark night after losing many valuable horses and several hundred dollars worth of valuable furs. They arrived at this place on foot, worn out and destitute as vagrants.
“Smith and Andrews were getting out timber from the Muscleshell, employing four hands in the woods and three teams in hauling. Major Brewer and Captain Andrews were driving two of the teams. A white woman and some squaws had gone to carry dinner to the men. Brewer had unloaded in town and was about 500 yards on his return; Andrews was about a half mile from town coming, and the women on the road between the two when sudden as unexpected, the dreaded warwhoop was heard, and 60 naked, yelling painted warriors came charging down the hill and in a moment were close upon their victims.
“Brewer jumped from the wagon firing as he went, and after running a fearful gauntlet through the storm of leaden hail, safely reached the stockade. The poor woman ran with the speed of a frightened deer but was soon overtaken. One of the squaws was shot through the thigh and the white woman stopped to pick her up but had only got the squaw to her feet when she herself was shot through the neck and fell and the Indians rushed upon her and tore the scalp from her head.
“Captain Andrews in the meantime, being much further out than any of the others, and having all the Indians in front of him, came slowly down the road firing at long range at the Indians in pursuit of the women. After a few shots he missed his cap box, and turning to look for it saw another large band of Indians in his rear. Then came tall running, comic dodging and fine strategy in the game of life and death.

“Andrews left the road and made for the trees along the Muscleshell, but being cut off from these he took a course more toward the village, shots and arrows at all times falling thick around him. His clothes were literally cut into ribbons and his hat shot from his head, yet he kept on his course, frequently turning and leveling his now useless gun, making the savages fall in the brush to avoid his supposed fatal shot and there by losing time in the pursuit.

“The Indian shots were finally exhausted and Andrews’ oft repeated ruse had become old, when a few Indians rushed upon him with their war clubs and soon found that an old soldier (even with an empty rifle in his hand) would not die like a dog.
“While the fight was going on, hand to hand, club to clubbed rifle, a small party headed by Colonel Clendennin and C. M. Veits, rushed to the rescue just in time to prevent old Cap from passing in his checks. Clendennin’s party pressed to the rescue of the men in the timber and found them in safety. Andrews went to camp calling for volunteers to assist in finding the woman. They soon found her scalped and shot in two places and bruised with war clubs, reveling a sight well calculated to curdle the blood in one’s veins and render his dreams horrible for days to come. They found her in a semi-conscious condition, faintly calling for help and water. She was taken to her cabin.”

From the next letter dated May 8th, 1869, an extract is taken:
“We have but few quiet days here. We have even to fight for the wood with which to cook our grub. This morning about eight o’clock, a white man and two squaws went out about 400 yards from camp to pick up wood. While thus engaged a band of Indians suddenly arose from the sage brush within a few yards of them and commenced yelling and firing. The wood party fled, as only people can who are pursed by Indians, and their clothes completely riddled with bullets, reached the city unharmed.

“The Indians now appeared in full force, swarming through the sage brush - Santee Sioux numbering between one and two hundred. But the men of the Muscleshell were not daunted nor did they falter. Immediately upon the alarm being given, the men grasped their ever-ready breech-loaders and with a yell that would shake even an Indian’s nerves, went flying across the field to attack the savage foes.

“A running fight now ensued for a distance of half a mile, when some eighty of the Indians took shelter in a deep and crooked coulee emptying into the Muscleshell. The men charged their position and were unable to dislodge them. In the charge Jacob Leader was shot through the brain, dying instantly. The men now divided themselves into several parties and took possession of every side of the coulee save that next to the river, in a vain endeavor to find a position from which to bear their rifles on the Indians. Although a heavy rain was falling and the position of the Indians seemed impregnable, the shower of shot and arrows coming like hail from the coulee, none seemed willing to turn their backs, leave the fight or draw the game.

“The fight went on for six hours with no result save the killing of one or two Indians and Mr. Greenwood, who was seriously wounded. Some of the boys now became desperate. Frank Smith, Jim Wells and Frenchy went below, waded the thick willows and continuously made their way upstream until they reached a point immediately opposite and in easy range of the coulee that concealed the Indians.
“Here was presented to their view such a hornet’s nest as seldom falls to the lot of a white man. Being in point blank range, they turned loose their Henry’s with such fatal effect as to make a good Indian at every fire. The red devils realized their position in an instant and saw nothing but certain death on every side. With a yell of rage and a howl of despair, they fled like frightened elk.

“The whites now completely surrounding them, arose from their cover, closed in and death and destruction on every side. Law! You should have been there to see Mr. Lo the poor red man pass in his checks! Thirteen fell on the spot while many more went floating down the stream, or crept wounded or in a dying condition into the thick willows along its bank. Their loss in killed and wounded could not have been less than fifty.

“The woman recently scalped at the place is alive and on her pegs. She perched herself upon a high bastion while the fight was going on and when the boys came in with 13 bleeding scalps at their belts, she felt somewhat consoled for the loss of her top knot.

“Many were the narrow escapes today. Coats, shirts and pants were shot to tatters. Squire Wearing had a close shave in the way of a bullet through the crown of his hat, slightly bruising his scalp; but the old squire took an Indians’ upper works and called it square. Captain Andrews - or Dr. Andrews - has dressed Greenwood’s wound and is now busy cleaning scalps.
“It may seem to you in cities and safe places that it is barbarous to scalp and maim dead Indians, but our every-day experience teaches us that we must, however revolting it may be to our feelings, resort to their own savage mode of warfare, in order to make our arms feared and our strength respected. It is a notorious fact that although no Indian has ever went hungry, without shelter or been abused in this camp, we are troubled more than any other.”

Musselshell City - Part 2

The Futile and Tragic Attempts of Traders, Freights and Woodhawks to Establish a City at the Mouth of the Musselshell River; Death Stalked Daily at the Elbow of Both White Man and Red at This Ill-Fated Spot Fifty Years Ago

Cont. from last week

(By Dan R. Conway)

Originally published in the Hysham Echo May 19, 1927)

In the fall of 1868, these Sioux marauders circled the settlement at the mouth of the Musselshell, swept down en masse, ran off all the horses and cattle and killed two soldiers of the garrison. The troops were, a short time later, withdrawn to Camp Cooke, because of the fact that it proved too difficult a task to get winter supplies to Camp Reeve. All winter the Sioux kept the settlement in a virtual stage of siege, and death hovered close to any whites who were bold enough to venture far from town.

False Hopes

New hope for the inhabitants of Musselshell City arrived with the spring of 1869. General Hancock, commanding the department of Dakota, under which military jurisdiction Montana territory was then located, directed the survey for a military road from Fort Ellis, near Bozeman, to the mouth of the Musselshell river, and a suitable military reservation site was selected near the latter point. This work was performed under the superintendence of Captain Clift of the Thirtieth Infantry. The reservation site which Captain Clift whose was one mile square and bordered the Missouri river embracing both banks of the Musselshell. This action on the part of the military seemed to portend the establishment of a military post; but the war department apparently did not sanction such a proposition. As the result, no protection was afforded the little town.

In the meantime, the hostile Sioux increased their activities against the whites who were endeavoring to protect their little settlement.

Three Woodhawks Killed

In March, 1869, a large war party of the Sioux advanced against the town. Passing up the river, they attacked a group of woodhawks killing three. A fourth, though badly wounded, reached his cabin where another man was convalescing from wounds received in a previous encounter with the natives. The two wounded men were successful in standing off the Indians, and finally reached the settlement after having endured indescribable hardship and suffering.
About the first of May, the Sioux began crowing the post where the settlers had taken refuge. The Indians had apparently been reinforced strongly. At this time the Sioux were beginning to feel the pressure of advancing civilization in Minnesota and the eastern Dakotas; and many of the tribes from those parts were drifting west into Montana territory. This undoubtedly accounts for the rapid rise in numerical strength of the Montana Sioux during the late sixties and the early seventies. As they were forced westward their bitterness against and hated for the whites increased to fever heat and, as the post at the mouth of the Musselshell constituted the principal white settlement in eastern Montana territory, it was at this point that the reds centered their attack.

The Sioux Attack

It happened that in these early May days of 1869, there were about 50 men gathered at the Musselshell post awaiting the arrival of the first steamboat from St. Louis. Part of these were at the trading post and the remainder at woodyards which had been established across on the north bank of the Musselshell. In the camp were two squaws. One morning these started out to gather dry firewood. On approaching the banks of the Musselshell, they were attacked by the Sioux, one of them receiving serious wounds. They escaped to the settlement, and as soon as the news of the attack was received by the traders and woodhawks, every man of the entire party turned out with all the firearms and ammunition available. It was decided to at this time “teach the Sioux a lesson,” and the little army sallied forth bent upon reprisal for the many lives that had been sacrificed to the jealous whim of the natives. The whites proceeded in skirmish formation over the high sagebrush to the crest which bordered the Musselshell. At this point there was a scattering growth of cottonwood trees.

Colonel Clendennin was on the left of the line, toward the Missouri; and, as the steep bank of the Musselshell afforded the Sioux an excellent cover, he proposed to first reconnoiter the position of the enemy by keeping close to the Missouri until he arrived at the mouth of the Musselshell from which point he could get a good view of them up the valley. Acting upon this plan, Clendennin discovered a numerous body of warriors running along the bank of the Musselshell and turning the point in the distance, while about half a dozen were seen to enter a small ravine as if to shelter themselves from the rifle fire he had instantly opened upon them. Returning at once to the main party, Colonel Clendennin at once apprised the whites of his discovery. At once the whole line advanced against the ravine hoping to capture or kill the small warrior band that he been seen to enter it.

Leader’s Folly

As they approached, however, a heavy fire was opened from the direction of the ravine and continued with such rapidity that the whites were compelled to lie down in the shelter of the sagebrush. In this position, they exchanged shots with the reds who were well concealed behind the rim of the cutbank. In the meantime, Jacob Leader, a German, who was employed by Colonel Clendennin as a Crow interpreter, joined the line and rashly started forward toward the ravine. Stimulated by his apparent fearlessness, the entire party of whites moved forward. They were met by a hot fire, and the Leader fell dead. A bullet had entered his mouth and plowed its way through the back of his head. He dropped back into the arms of the late Colonel G. R. Norris, who was a member of the party and who was directly behind the unfortunate victim. This checked the advance for the time being; the whites again dropped into the sagebrush or behind cottonwood trees.

Reinforcements

About this time a number of Woodhawks from across the Missouri arrived to reinforce the little white army. Thus encouraged by increased numbers, despite the fact that a heavy rainstorm had set in, it was decided to continue the attack and clean up as many of the marauders as was possible. A direct attack upon the ravine was not deemed prudent, as such a course would mean the sacrifice of several of their number.

Finally Jim Wells, Frank Smith, Henry McDonald and Joe Brushaway proceeded to a point somewhat below the ravine and succeeded in crossing the river. These men were armed with Henry rifles. Concealing themselves behind underbrush and cutbanks they had the Indians at their mercy; but, much to their surprise, instead of finding half a dozen Sioux in the ravine, there were more than sixty.

Colonel Chendennin’s Strategy

As soon as the first bullet from across the stream struck among them, the Sioux realized that they had lost the battle. In front of them was the river, and all around them and on the plain above, were their white enemies, whose powerful repeating rifles they could not hope to escape. Several times they made desperate efforts to dig shelter for themselves in the banks. All the while one after another of their number fell before the incessant fire of the men who had crossed the river. The main body of the whites now charged them on the other bank and, routed at all points, they fled to the field, leaving thirteen of their dead and taking with them several wounded, of whom 21 afterward died. The white of the settlement lost Leader and a man by the name of Greenwood was wounded in the shoulder. The fight had begun at 7:30 in the morning and it lasted until noon.

Barbarism

Many of the wounded Indians were killed and scalped by the whites. The following day one of the white traders (Andrews by name) cut off the heads of ten of the dead Sioux, and boiled them till the skull could be cleaned. These were then impaled at the ends of sticks on the stockade, where they grinned forth at the passengers and crew of the steamer Importer, which arrived upstream from St. Louis a day or two later. This boat touched at the woodyard near Round Butte on its upward journey and there it had found the mutilated bodies of seven woodhawks who had been murdered by the Sioux. This had undoubtedly been the work of the party that was routed at Musselshell City.

From that eventful day, the entire Sioux nation swore eternal vengeance against Musselshell City and the entire white race which made possible such settlements. Many war parties from the vicinity of Fort Peck, or from the camp of the famous Sitting Bull then located on the Dry Fork of the Missouri, threatened the town by intermittent raids. By this time it had become quite evident that as a freighting point Musselshell City was destined to be an utter failure; only one or two upward bound steamers discharged freight there that season.

By the approach of the next winter, the few inhabitants who had been so enthusiastic over the future of the new town, began to lose their optimism. Business had not been profitable; trade was poor, and they wearied of the ever present danger.

An Eccentric Frenchman

Early the following spring (1870) there occurred one of the most remarkable incidents ever recorded in the annals of frontier warfare in early day Montana. There arrived at Musselshell City an eccentric and restless Frenchman. He had come from Helena to take passage on one of the downward bound river boats. After waiting at the mouth of the Musselshell for what had seemed to him to be an interminable time, he grew discontented and started out on foot to return to Helena. Before he had gone far, he lost his way in the wilderness and finally, drifting in a circle, landed back, more dead than alive, at Musselshell. After a short period of recuperation, he set out afoot for Fort Benton.

Musselshell City

The Futile and Tragic Attempts of Traders, Freights and Woodhawks to Establish a City at the Mouth of the Musselshell River; Death Stalked Daily at the Elbow of Both White Man and Red at This Ill-Fated Spot Fifty Years Ago

(By Dan R. Conway)

Originally published in the Hysham Echo May 19, 1927)

On the right bank of the Missouri river, on a point formed by the confluence with that stream of the Musselshell river, there are a few acres of land that are replete with tragic history. These few acres constitute the site of the long-since forgotten Kerchival City, built by the Rocky Mountain Wagon Road company in 1866, an organization that had been perfected with a view to establishing a new route of travel for the gold seekers to and from the gold camps of western Montana. From this small area of land time has effaced all marks which would designate the site of Musselshell City, built in 1868, with a definite plan to supplant Fort Benton as the head of navigation on the Missouri. Here also, once stood old Fort Sheridan continued as a trading post by Colonel George Clendennin after Musselshell City had passed into history until 1874.

Ghosts of a Forgotten Past

Time and the encroaching waters of the Missouri have obliterated all signs of the buildings and other marks left by the enthusiasts who in the late sixties had hoped to develop Montana’s great metropolis at this point. Yet, there are few spots in Montana which are surrounded with so sinister an atmosphere of by-gone tragedy; of bloody acts of vengeance by both the redman and white. If in spirit life, the dead ever revisit the scenes of their ending on this earth, the mouth of the Musselshell must often be haunted by the spectral forms of white men whose life blood flowed as a sacrifice to the hatred of the hostile Sioux; and by the scores of Indians whose lives were cut short by fast-traveling bullets from Henry rifles in the hands of white adventurers who sought to gain a foothold in the domain of the native.

Today the men who played a part in the tragic drama of the late sixties and the early seventies at the mouth of the Musselshell have passed on. But their story has been preserved in the reminiscences of Colonel George Clendennin, a well known fur trader who was a witness to most of the events, and fortunately these reminiscences from a part of the journals of Lieutenant James H. Bradley, a contribution to the Montana Historical library.

Advantageous Location

The advantages presented by the mouth of the Musselshell for the location of a town attracted attention almost as early in the history of Montana as the discovery of gold, which attracted the vast hordes of argonauts in the early sixties. Since 1846, Fort Benton, above the mouth of the Marias had been the head of navigation on the Missouri river. However, the Missouri above the mouth of the Musselshell presented difficulties which made navigation for that portion of the journey an arduous and dangerous undertaking for even the most experienced pilots. The current was swift; there were numerous rapids; and, owing to the fact that late in July and August the flow became too shallow to admit of navigation, the season was short for the heavier boats of deeper draught. On the other hand, at and below the mouth of the Musselshell, until late in October, conditions were always favorable for river traffic. The broad and beautiful valley created by the receding bluffs at that point, together with the abundant timber in the vicinity, were additional arguments in favor of the selection of this spot.

At the mouth of the Musselshell the Missouri describes a wide circle to the northwest, while a practical land route existed by a short are drawn to the gold camps of Alder and Last Chance gulches and the other settlements to the southwest. Regular freight service to and from these gold camps and the mouth of the Musselshell was conducted for some time. In 1863, shortly after he arrived in Montana territory, the first employment the notorious Captain J. A. Slade accepted in his new location was wagon master for a large freighting outfit operating between Virginia City and the mouth of the Musselshell.

Would Rival Fort Benton

From the first, promoters of the project felt confident that a successful rival to Fort Benton might be established at the mouth of the Musselshell. The natural advantages influenced a number of men who organized the Rocky Mountain Wagon Road company and in 1866 opened up a regular route from western Montana over the mountains to the mouth of the Musselshell, where a townsite was surveyed. An old steamboat captain whose name was Kerchival had been among the first to advocate the new route. He was a partner in the company and the town, in his honor, was named Kerchival City. The company erected a trading post and proceeded with plans for the building of the city; but for two years the town did not grow; the freighting business failed to develop because of the keen competition offered by the older established Fort Benton. The plan was abandoned.

In 1868, the attempt was renewed by the Montana Hide and Fur company which was organized by Helena business men. This firm sent out a party of nine men under James Brewer with instructions to build a trading post at the mouth of the Musselshell. The party arrived at their destination in March, 1868. They laid out a town and called it Musselshell. A short time later they were joined by Colonel George Clendennin, his brother, Richard, and James McGinnis. These three built a trading post.

Camp Reeve

During the summer months many people from down river points and from the mountain settlements flocked to the new town; and, before winter set in, eight buildings were ranged in line fronting the river bank. The town then had a population of fifty people, while there were usually many transient trappers, woodhawks and river men. About this time, a company of troops under Captain Nugent of the Thirteenth Infantry arrived at Musselshell from Fort Cooke. They built a stockade with bastions at a location just a short distance below the town. They pitched their tents inside the small fort and called the place Camp Reeve. Trade with the friendly tribes of Gros Ventres and Crows increased and in the summer of 1868 the little town of Musselshell was a bustling little center.

The Sioux

However, prosperity was destined to be short-lived for these enthusiasts. As is common knowledge, the Sioux in those days had laid claim to all the lands east of the Little Rockies and south of the Missouri. This they held as their hunting and trapping grounds. They watched with jealous eye the encroachments made by the whites and at every opportunity they struck at these camps and they struck to kill.

Occasionally the friendly Crows visited the Musselshell City post to trade, but their visits were not frequent because of the ever-present Sioux marauders. The location was ideal for a trading establishment as far as natural conditions were concerned.


(Cont. on Oct. 9)

Chief Joseph II - Conclusion

Cont. from last week

(By Dan R. Conway)

Originally published in the Hysham Echo May 12, 1927)

Peaceable to the Last

In his later years, Joseph was not a disturber; he remembered his promise and he kept it. He kept it indeed better than many a paroled white would have done; it was lived up to in spirit as well as in letter. Not only did he refrain from making any trouble himself, but his councils were always for peace. He realized the hopelessness of a struggle against the white invasion and he adopted the course that seemed to him wisest.

Charlot a Malcontent

The case of the Nez Percés was almost an exact parallel with the treatment which Chief Charlot and his Saleeshes of the Bitter Root valley received from the government. Charlot, however, refrained from any act of violence against the whites. When Joseph sent Charlot an invitation to participate in the march out of the country, the latter refused. But Charlot remained sullen and morose, a perpetual trouble breeder on the reservation; a chronic malcontent. Joseph, on the other hand, became a model Indian after his brief struggle against the inevitable had been decided.

When Charlot had his famous conference with Senator Vest, Major Martin Maginnis and others regarding his proposed departure from the Bitter Root valley, he referred to this incident. He said that his father, Victor, had welcomed Lewis and Clark and helped them on their journey; that during the intervening years no white man had been killed by the Flathead Indians in anything that looked like hostility; that recently when his kinsman Joseph of the Nez Percés had come over the mountains and asked him to join with him in his war upon the whites, he told him that he would not do so. He said that he told Joseph he would not join the whites, and that so far as the Saleeshes were concerned, Joseph might march through the valley if he would do so peaceably; but that if he took anything belonging to the white men, or even killed a calf, then he (Charlot) would join forces with the white men.

Was Greatest of Indian Leaders

Joseph’s resentment against the whites was of the same nature as that of Charlot, but it found vent in a different manner. Instead of remaining sullenly in the Wallowa valley, Joseph determined to leave the country entirely. None familiar with the circumstances and events believes that Joseph at any time intended to wage war against the whites. Had he been on the warpath, it would have been a very simple matter for him to slay the soldiers and volunteers who opposed him in Lolo pass. Much later, however, he left the members of this force sleeping and marched quietly around them.

Whatever may be the general opinion held as to the justice of the course pursued by Chief Joseph and as to the righteousness of the cause he tried to uphold, there can be but one opinion regarding the man himself - he was the greatest Indian leader of all times.

Chief Joseph II - part 2

 The Most Remarkable Indian of All North American Aboriginal Tribesmen; Nez Percés were Peace Loving People, Yet Brave, Fearless and Honest in their Battle for a Cause to Them Most Just. Fiftieth Anniversary of Big Hole Battle to be Commemorated

Cont. from last week

(By Dan R. Conway)

Originally published in the Hysham Echo May 12, 1927

Settlers Aggressive

The white settlers began aggressions. Three of Joseph’s Indians were killed. The murderers were tried in white courts and given their liberty. The relatives of the murdered men swore a vendetta against the whites and took the offensive. White Bird and his band opened war by killing some of the settlers. These avengers rode back to the Nez Perce camp with the scalps of their victims. Joseph was at that time on Salmon river, arranging for the removal of the tribe. White Bird had come out in the open and rode boldly about the valley, proclaiming war.

The fierce Too-hul-hul-sote took advantage of the situation. His voice was always for war. When Joseph arrived, he found that he was too late. The whole tribe had declared for war against the “government of broken promises.” He made a vigorous protest, but without avail. Finally, when he saw that his people were determined to fight, he determined to lead them, although, in his heart, he was confident that there could be but one result.

Howard then took personal command, sending detachments in every direction. The troopers were ordered to strike the Indians wherever found. Joseph was given the command of 400 Nez Perce fighting men.

This is the history of the causes of the war with the Nez Percés in 1877. The half a dozen battles in which Joseph’s warriors fought against the forces of Howard, Gibbon, Sturgis, Miles and other officers commanding the forces of federal troops, the masterly retirement of Joseph, leading his rapidly diminishing band of warriors, with their women and children in the 1,000 mile retreat from the Big Hold battlefield to the Bear Paw mountains, are well known incidents of history.

Chief Joseph II.

This Chief Joseph II. of the Nez Percés was the most notable Indian of all the Old West. He was courageous, a master in war and strategy, of noble mind, and more nearly resembled the Cooper type of early Indian romance than any other Indian leader mentioned in history.

Twenty-two years ago last October he died, old and heart-broken, on Tongue river, Idaho, where he spent the last unhappy days of his life. General Miles once said of Joseph: “he is the whitest Indian I have ever known.” When Joseph was told of this remark, he said: “General Miles cannot compliment me by calling me white. I could not insult a good Indian worse than by saying he was like a white man. All my life I have told the truth. I cannot say the same of any white man I have ever known.”

The Nez Percés

The Nez Percés were unequalled as warriors among all the Indian tribes of the nation, brave and wary in attack, determined and resourceful in defense, yet they were not in reality a war-making nation. When the white explorers first came to the Rocky mountain region, the Nez Percés were a powerful and populous people, inhabiting the valley of Snake river and extending to the Salmon and Clearwater rivers, west from the Bitter Root mountains. Their men were brave, their women virtuous and their country was one of the finest in all the region. They were superior in many respects to most of the tribes that roved throughout the northwest.

Of this people Joseph II. was a worthy chief. Strong, alert, intelligent; albeit, disdainful and haughty at times, he was the idol of his followers. When he led his people out of the valley that had been their home for generations, it was not to give battle to the whites, but to find a new home for the Nez Percés whom he believed had been treacherously dealt with by agents of the federal government and thus wrongly deprived of the valley to which they were strongly attached by history and tradition.

Battle of the Big Hole

The battles that were staged along the route of the famous march were not of Joseph’s seeking; he had not crossed the mountains to fight the whites; but, when it became necessary, he and his warriors fought as Indians had never fought before and have never fought since.

In the Battle of the Big Hole in 1877, the Nez Percés proved themselves magnificent fighters, but after different tactics and more valorous than was true of the tribes that the American soldiers had on previous occasions tried conclusions with. They fought as bravely and as fairly as did their white enemies, and they commanded the respect of the veterans numbered among the forces that had been pitted against them.

In the first clash of the famous Battle of the Big Hole, the fiftieth anniversary of which will be commemorated in a couple of months, the Nez Percés were driven back, but they did not scatter and lose their heads; they were led by a master in the art of war, although this was his first encounter with the whites and they stood their ground in a fight with white men, when their numbers were anything near equal. Here, however, was a band of Indians who stood up against a force not much inferior to their own and fought so stubbornly and bravely that they turned the rout at the opening assault into what was virtually a victory. They compelled the white men who had driven them from their camp to take refuge behind breastworks and then they followed the whites, hemmed them in and harassed them for 24 hours, only desisting when scouts brought them news of the approach of strong reinforcements for the soldiers.

It was an unusual experience for the veterans in the ranks of the whites, many of whom had fought the Sioux in eastern Montana and in the Dakotas. Some of these men afterward said that they would rather fight five Sioux than one Nez Perce; and yet this tribe had never before been at war against the whites. If the Nez Percés had been experienced in this sort of fighting, there is no telling what might have been the outcome of Chief Joseph’s famous march through Montana in 1877.

The reputation of Sitting Bull and his Sioux would have been forfeited. But, the Nez Percés were by nature peaceable and their one clash with whites arose from a cause that justified their actions in the eyes of those who believed that the United States should play fair with such of the Indians as were themselves honorable.

Men who served during the Civil war and in the Indian wars in the middle west and south have given testimony that the battle of the Big Hole was the most bitterly contested field upon which they ever fought. These veterans state that they never witnessed such determined fighting maintained for so long a period of time and at such short range by any Indians as was carried on by these unseasoned warriors under Joseph.

It was a brave body of whites who faced Chief Joseph that hot day on the bluffs that overlook the Basin where the waters of mountain streams mingle to form the main fork of Big Hole river. They were worthy foes and worthily did this Indian leader and his followers meet them.

Among the men hemmed in by Joseph, in the earthworks on the brow of that fatal hill, was one grizzled old surgeon who had fought with that same regiment in the defense of Little Round Top at Gettysburg. In his story of the fight told in an interview a short time after the battle of the Big Hole, the surgeon said that there was no hotter place on the Round Top than he found that August day ten years or more later.

When his fight at the Big Hole was ended, Chief Joseph took up his march down the valley, cumbered with women and children and his wounded warriors, heading in the direction of the British possessions where he hoped to find a home for his people and where they might receive the just treatment that he felt had been denied them in this country.

Joseph’s Famous March

The history of the march of Joseph and his Nez Percés is even more remarkable than the story of the battle of the Big Hole. The first reports reaching Montana regarding Joseph’s campaign were much exaggerated. The battle of the Little Big Horn was fresh in the minds of the people of the state and it was naturally expected that the Nez Percés’ trail through Montana would be marked by murder an outrage. But, the people did not know Chief Joseph. Joseph was a different type from Sitting Bull, and he was able to control his aggressive young men to a remarkable degree. He left no trail of blood and fire across the state.

Viewed from a military standpoint this retreat was remarkable as the course, in its entirety, lay through an enemy’s country, and it was accomplished with less annoyance to the people of the estate than would have resulted from a similar march by a hostile white foe. Just so long as it was possible for him so to do, Joseph paid for the horses and provisions he secured. When he could no longer do this, he took them as any commander would have done; but, no brutality marked the course of the Nez Perce retreat.

When, finally, Joseph surrendered to General Miles, it was because of the suffering among the women and children of the tribe, who, deprived of proper food and exposed to the chill of winter weather, were sick and dying. His surrender was complete. When he yielded, it was with the promise that he would fight no more. He said: “Hear me, my chiefs. I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever!”

(Cont. next week)

Chief Joseph II

The Most Remarkable Indian of All North American Aboriginal Tribesmen; Nez Percés were Peace Loving People, Yet Brave, Fearless and Honest in their Battle for a Cause to Them Most Just. Fiftieth Anniversary of Big Hole Battle to be Commemorated

Cont. from last week

(By Dan R. Conway)

Originally published in the Hysham Echo May 12, 1927

It is just a half century ago that Chief Joseph II. left the Wallowa valley in Idaho in his futile effort to pilot his people out of a country whose government, in his opinion, had treated his people in a shameless manner.

The famous march of the Nez Percés has been the subject of innumerable narratives. Its story is familiar to every school child in the Northwest. Too much cannot be said, however, of the remarkable man who proved himself so capable a leader, and of whom General Nelson A. Miles once said: “He is the whitest Indian I ever knew.”

Cause of Nez Perce Uprising

After the Civil war, Grant and Sherman were the military dictators of the United States. These two dignitaries had become the idols of the north, in consideration of their salient victories which had brought the recent war to a close. There word was law in military circles. And, today, in the northwest, the question arises as often before it has: Did these officials exercise their power to the very best advantage in treating with the Indian tribes? The story of the rebellion of Chief Joseph against the confiscation of the lands of the Nez Percés by General Grant; the story of the repudiation by General Sherman of the terms made by General Miles to Chief Joseph, following the latter’s surrender at the Battle of the Bear Paws, would indicate that these men might have abused their power.

The white race, and more especially those who were living in Montana at the time of the Nez Perce uprising, are inclined to blame Chief Joseph for the bloody war which he waged against the settlers of Montana in 1877. As a matter of fact, however, Joseph was fighting for a principle - an ideal which was as sound as any patriotic principle which ever inspired a soldier of the United States.

Nez Percés a Superior Tribe

From the time of Lewis and Clark, up to the days when the government began to play a fast and loose game with the Nez Perce nation, that tribe had always been staunch friends of the white people. The Nez Percés were a superior race of aborigines. They were devoted to peace and were praised by every explorer and settler who has passed over the Oregon Trail, as well as by the early missionaries, Fathers DeSmet and Ravalli and Marcus Whitman.

The story of the Nez Percés was much similar to that of the Flatheads (Saleeshes). Just as General Garfield had misrepresented to the government his negotiations with the Bitter Root valley Indians, claiming that Chief Charlot had surrendered the rights of the Saleeshes to that valley, when he had not. Early day commissioners sent out to treat with the Nez Percés made a treaty with sub-chiefs and head men who did not by any means represent the entire nation.

It was this plan of pursuing the course of least resistance - a plan too much in vogue by commissioners endeavoring to make a name for themselves in those days - that was the direct cause of the Nez Perce uprising. A group of sub-chiefs were cajoled into signing away the rights of the entire Nez Perce nation; and when the matter was reported to the tribe, the greater portion of the tribesmen resented it bitterly.

Broken Promises

Governor Isaac N. Stevens of Washington territory negotiated the first treaty with the Nez Percés in 1855. It was a liberal treaty confirming the rights of the Indian nation to hunting grounds in Idaho, Washington and Oregon. A second treaty was made in 1863. By this agreement, the fertile valleys of the Wallowa and Imnaha were relinquished by the Indians. The valleys in question were occupied by a tribe of the Nez Perce nation of which Joseph I. was chief, as had been his father before him. Old Joseph and his followers who were the ones who should have been consulted, refused to recognize the treaty. They were the original owners of the land. The government held that the agreement with the whole nation was binding on Joseph’s Nez Percés. On the other hand, the old warrior leader held that the Indians not under him and not residing in the valleys which the treaty ceded to the United States had no right to sign away the rights of his people.

Chief Joseph

Chief Joseph is represented as being a royal blooded Indian, whose forebears had held high place in the council of his nation, for many generations. The dissatisfied Indians rallied around him. The land that had been clandestinely ceded to the United States government was the home of his childhood and his people from time immemorial. At a great council of the dissenters Joseph made a speech in the course of which he said:
“A man who would not love the land of his father and his mother is worse than a beast. Our brothers have betrayed us. The men who spoke for the Great White Father of the palefaces should have known that they were doing something which was not right. The white people have much power, but we must fight them if they attempt to take our homes away from us.”

This cry of Joseph, the red patriot, went up and down the land of the Nez Percés. Many of the chiefs and head men who had assented to this treaty left the country of the nation, so bitter was the feeling against them.

Death of Chief Joseph

This controversy continued over a number of years. In 1872 Old Joseph died and on his deathbed, he called his son, Young Joseph, to his side, and said:
“My son, my body is returning to Mother Earth, and my spirit is going very soon to see the Great Spirit Chief. When I am gone, think of your country. You are the chief of these people. They look to you to guide them. Always remember that your father never sold his country. You must stop your ears whenever you are asked to sign a treaty selling your home. A few years more and the white men will be all around you. They have their eyes on this land. My son, never forget my dying words. This country holds your father’s body. Never sell the bones of your father and mother.”

The government, unable to induce the Indians to leave, further complicated matters by giving the “Non-Treaty Nez Percés,” as Chief Joseph II. and his followers were called, permission to remain in Wallowa valley.
Another Broken Promise

In 1873, a commission decided that the non-treaty Nez Percés were without their rights, and that they must leave the country in which they had always lived.

Along about this time, encouraged by the attitude of the government, settlers began to locate in Wallowa valley. Joseph went to them and explained his position. He told them that the treaty by which the land had been ceded to the United States had been repudiated by the Nez Perce nation. He warned them that there would be war if they remained. Instead of heeding this warning, they encouraged other settlers to come.

Grant was then president of the United States. His training had been militant. He answered the Indians by proclaiming the Wallowa valley a part of the public domain of the United States, and open to settlement.
Naturally enough, this proclamation brought more settlers. Joseph now realized that he must make his fight for his people, or submit to what he and they considered a rank injustice. He issued an ultimatum that if the white settlers did not leave at once he and his followers would go on the war path.

Settlers Arrive in Valley

The settlers, feeling themselves secure in the attitude of President Grant, remained. The Indians began to commit petty depredations. Settlers in unprotected places began to feel the hand of the Indian. The settlers, alarmed, asked for military protection. The government sent a troop of cavalry into the valley. This, the Indians considered an act of war.
The non-treaty Nez Percés were members of a religious order known to the government as “The Dreamers.” The doctrine of the Dreamers was that the Great Spirit had made the earth complete, and that it was sinful to disturb it by cultivation. The Dreamers, it is said, were also opposed to churches and school as disturbing the natural conditions of things. They also believed that a leader would come who would show them how to resist the encroachments of the whites, which had long ago begun to alarm the Indians. This leader was to be endowed with divine power, and would bring the spirits of all the dead Nez Percés back to life, to help the nation fight for their rights, if necessary.

Too-Hul-Hul-Sote

The head of this religious order was a fierce old medicine man named Too-hul-hul-sote. He had come into power since the trouble had arisen between the Nez Percés and the government. As high priest of the order, he was the implacable foe of the whites. Their ascendancy meant, of course, that his cult would go to pieces, and he was always for war. Most of the Nez Percés believed in him and his doctrines were held sacred. He had almost as much power as did Chief Joseph.
General O. O. Howard was sent out to try and placate Joseph. He took the position that the Wallowa valley was a legitimate possession of the United States; that the army would protect the settlers and force Joseph and his followers to go to the reservation allotted to them. Then came the order that the non-treaty Nez Percés must vacate the valley within one year. Joseph finally became convinced that the only thing for the Indians to do was to submit to the whites. He arrived at this conclusion very reluctantly, because he loved the fair land in which his people had always lived, and because his father and his mother were buried there. He set about to arrange for the removal of the tribe.

(Cont. next week)

Chief Joseph II - part 1

The Most Remarkable Indian of All North American Aboriginal Tribesmen; Nez Percés were Peace Loving People, Yet Brave, Fearless and Honest in their Battle for a Cause to Them Most Just. Fiftieth Anniversary of Big Hole Battle to be Commemorated

(By Dan R. Conway)

Originally published in the Hysham Echo May 12, 1927

The storm may drive to bush and den

The creatures of the field and fen,

But neither storm nor darksome night,

Nor ice-bound stream nor frowning height,

Could check or turn or put to Right

This iron-hearted man.

– With apologies to Joseph Mills Hanson.

When the thousands of Americans (both red and white) have gathered on the ridge that forms the headwaters of the main fork of the Big Hole river, in August of this year, that gathering will be in marked contract to that which convened in the historic Big Hole country fifty years ago.
(Cont. next week)

The Famous “Block P” Line - Conclusion

(By Dan R. Conway)

Continuing the sixth in a series of articles dealing with the history of navigation on the Upper Missouri river as first printed in the Hysham Echo May 5, 1927

John H. Charles

“John H. Charles of Sioux City has seen eight and ten steamers landed at Sioux City at one time. Charles made his first trip up the Missouri in 1850.

“He has always taken an active interest in the Missouri river transportation and has owned steamboat properties since the early sixties. He and a partner, A. H. Wilder, of St. Paul, sold out a line of half a dozen steamers to Durfee & Peck, fur traders; and in 1879, Charles helped to organize the Benton Transportation company. At one time this company owned eight or ten steamers, but now it has but two small freighters plying the upper Missouri, Its officers have remained the same as originally organized. They are: T. C. Power, Helena, Montana, president; John W. Power, vice president; J. H. McKnight, treasurer; John H. Clark, secretary; and Isaac P. Baker, Bismarck, N. D., superintendent.
“The Benton line had the steamers, Benton, Helena, Rosebud and one other when they started, but gradually acquired more. The trade was between Sioux City and Fort Benton, a distance of 1,800 miles. Durfee & Peck owned the C. W. Meade, Pennah, Silver Lake and others, and the Missouri River Transfer company owned many boats. Besides these, there were hundreds of individual boats on the river.

Old River Pilots

“There are but a few of the old steamboat men left in Sioux City, who were in active service on the Missouri river. One of these is Captain W. H. Gould, who is still in the service. (Written 27 years ago.) He is master of the government steamer Josephine. The Josephine is probably the oldest steamer in service on the Missouri river, she being in the neighborhood of 25 years old. She has been repaired so often that there are but few of the original planks remaining in her hull. (It was this same Josephine which in 1875 successfully navigated the Yellowstone river to within 60 miles of Yellowstone National park.)
“Captain Gould has been in the government service since 1883. Prior to that time he was in the employ of the Benton Transportation company.

“ ‘Navigation has always been hazardous on the Missouri,’ said Captain Gould, speaking of his career. ‘We often would go aground on a bar and remain there for several days. Sometimes we would spar off by unloading the freight on a barge. Then I have had to abandon boats altogether until the river would rise and float them off the bar.’

“Captain Gould recalled a number of the Missouri river captains and what became of them. They are (written 27 years ago):
“Captain Grant Marsh, Captain W. R. Massie and Captain John Massie, all in St. Louis; Captain John LaBarge died at the wheel of the Helena in St. Louis; Captain Joseph LaBarge, died in St. Louis; Captain Joseph Fecto, at Carondelet; Captain Joseph Todd died at an Ohio river point; Captain John Todd, on the Ohio river building boats for Alaska; Captain S. B. Coulson, died at Yankton; Captain William Coulson, died at Alleghany City, Pa.; Captain Henry King, at Chamberlain, S. D.; Captain mark Coulson, died at Sioux City; Captain B. F. Horn, died at Pierre, S. D.; Captain Nelson Todd, died at Sioux City; Captain Frank Maratta, on the Ohio river; Captain D. M. Maratta, on the Ohio river; Captain John Williams died at St. Louis; Captain John Williams died at St. Louis; Captain Ed Anderson, at Sioux City; Captain Andrew Johnson, died at Bismarck; captain William Simms, in the Klondyke; Captain William Perkins, on the Ohio river; Captain Dave Campbell, lives in Sioux City; Captain Ben F. Temple, lives in Sioux City; Captain Joe Leach is at Running Water, S. D.; Captain C. W. Bunt, Captain John M. Belk, and Captain T. D. Mariner are at Bismarck; Captain Richard Wolfolk and Captain James McGary died at Bismarck.

The Old Boats

“Among the steamboats which plied at and above Sioux City, recalled by Captain Gould, were the Lady Grace, Flirt, Last Chance, General Tompkins, Emily, Yellowstone, General Terry, Castalia, General Sherman, Don Cameron, Zaphyr, Jenny Brown Scully, Nellie Peck, C. K. Peck, Northern Pacific, E. H. Durfee, Niobara, General Rucker, Silver Lake, Sioux City, Far Wet, Key West, Montana, Western, Wyoming, Dakota, Big Horn No. 1, Rosebud, Bachelor, Josephine, Helena, Benton No. 1, Tacona, Black Hills, Ida Reece, Eclipse, Benton No. 2, Little Missouri, Ida, Fontanelle, Antelope, Mollie Moore, Silver Bow, North Carolina, Urilda, Fannie Barker, ST. Luke, Bertha, Andrew Ackley, Deer Lodge, Only Chance, Admiral Farrague, Guydon, Miner, Lacon, Hiram Wood, Aurelia Poe, Peter Balen, General Meade, Big Horn No. 2, General Custer and Nile.”

Today, the sole surviving officer of the Benton Transportation company, and one of the very few men now living who were actively associated with steamboat traffic on the Big Muddy, Captain Isaac P. Baker, lives at Bismarck, N. D. Practically all of the pilots mentioned by Captain Gould in the above interview given 2 years ago, have long since passed on.
It is a long step back to the palmy days along the old river; and, although it cannot be definitely said that steamboating on the Big Muddy is a thing of the past forever, it is a fact that the golden days of the sixties and seventies can exist again only in the memory of those few now living who were fortunate in witnessing them.

There’s a trail that winds out thru the mountains,

Thru the prairie dust velvety gray,

Thru the fords, thru the coulees, and gulches,

A trail that grows dimmer each day.

You can’t make it without an old-timer

To guide you and make you his guest,

For that trail is the long trail of mem’ry

That leads to the heart of the West.

– By Robert H. Fletcher.