Chief Joseph & the Flight of the Nez Perce (24 page)

A
FTER A DAY
of weary, heat-choked travel, the people came to the place known as the dry creek. It cut like a knife wound through the flat sagebrush landscape, invisible to any but those who approached its edge. But once there, travelers could see that it stood as an impassable barrier, twenty feet deep and wider at its narrowest place than a horse could jump, with sheer, craggy rock sides, impossible to get down except in several places many miles apart. At these breaks, where the rock cliff sides gave way to sloping banks, white men had set up small shacks to serve as freight stations. The white man's “talking wire” ran along the far side of this cut in the earth, as did a wide wagon trail, known as Corrine Road, that the whites used to bring supplies and gold back and forth from the Union Pacific railroad in Utah to the settlements in Montana. If Howard had gotten ahead to block their progress, this is where he would be.

They wandered along this cut in the earth searching for the best place to cross. Eventually they found a place near a crossing known as Hole-in-the-Rock that seemed to suit their purposes.

A quick reconnoitering found no sign of Howard or any other white men. The men who operated the station had been alerted by the talking wire and had gone to a nearby cave in the hills to hide. From their vantage point, they watched as the Nez Perce procession made its way down the rocky, sloping opening and up the other side. One of the station men later guessed that it had taken almost five hours for the whole group to pass.

Once on the other side, the Nez Perce cut the “talking wire,” disconnecting the people of Utah from the people of Montana Territory. This loss of communications caused the imaginations of the settlers to run wild. People had heard stories of the Big Hole fight, and stories of the murder of settlers abounded. There had been sightings of the Indians as they had passed through the sparsely settled countryside, so all knew that the Nez Perce were in the area. But no one was exactly sure where they were or what they intended to do.

This had caused Howard no end of difficulties in his attempts to head off the hostiles. He was indeed traveling in a straight line across from the Big Hole to the Corrine stage line route, with the intention of beating the Nez Perce to the dry creek and the road on the other side.

However, whenever he and his men came near a community that lay in the possible route of the Nez Perce, they were beseeched to provide protection to the terrified settlers and were abused in person and in the press when they did not. Never sure where the Nez Perce were going, and feeling sympathy for the fears of the settlers, Howard often listened to these entreaties and either split his troops or lost precious time traveling to protect communities the Nez Perce had already visited and left.

As a result, he managed to squander his chance to cut off the Nez Perce by traveling directly from the Big Hole to the stage crossings at the dry creek and instead ended up camped at one of the crossing points on the stage road forty miles north of the Nez Perce, who were leading their ponies and their people through the opening down near the Hole-in-the-Rock station.

This was the closest his soldiers had come to the Indians since the battle on the Clearwater. When he received confirmation from his scouts that the Nez Perce were only a short distance ahead, he knew that with a strong push he could overtake them and put an end to their flight. But it was a difficult decision. He had pushed his men hard. His infantry soldiers were now footsore and depressed. Many lacked socks and had been reduced to wrapping their feet in rags to protect against the sharp-edged volcanic rocks covering the landscape. The cavalrymen too were exhausted. Unlike the Nez Perce, they did not have extra horses to spell their own mounts, and many of their animals were too tired to do more than plod along with their heads down. Many of the men could not remember when they had last spent a night sleeping with their boots off.

Nonetheless, he pushed on, eventually closing to within eighteen miles of the escaping bands. But here the fatigue caught up with his men. Even the few volunteers that had managed to make it down from the north had been in the saddle for two days and a night, some almost falling off their horses as they had tried to stay awake during the ninety-mile forced march from the mining town of Virginia City.

The next day he tried to push them again. But the heat was overwhelming and the Indians' horses had trampled and eaten all the forage. By midafternoon he had reached the campsite the Nez Perce had just left, but his men were at the point of collapse.

A few miles ahead, the Nez Perce too were struggling with exhaustion. The trail had been hard, the weather hot. They had been forced to leave two more of their weary and wounded behind at the dry creek crossing. They had managed to have a good night camping at a low-lying oasis called Camas Meadows, where the sagebrush and volcanic rock gave way for a short time to an area of good grazing grasses and fish-filled streams. Now they were better rested and moving ahead again. But they were in no condition to move quickly. Their back scouts had discovered Howard's presence and were monitoring his movements from the low volcanic hills. It seemed like the battle they had tried to avoid was now inevitable.

But Howard had made his decision. Though his chief Bannock scout, Buffalo Horn, had reconnoitered the nearby Nez Perce camp and had tried to convince him that this was the moment to strike, he had decided not to do so. He was convinced the Nez Perce were heading down the wide valley toward Henry's Lake and the new Yellowstone National Park and had sent a group of forty men ahead by a different trail to hold off the Indians as they approached the pass that would give them entry. He was confident that this time he would trap the renegades in a pincer and be able to roll them up from behind. He wanted his troops to be rested and well fed and his animals as strong as possible for any mounted attack. So instead of pursuing an enemy that was only a half-day ahead, he instructed his men to make camp at the same Camas Meadows site the Nez Perce had left only that morning.

This mystified the three Nez Perce scouts who were watching from the nearby hillsides. They had been keeping an eye on the pursuing army through a telescope they had procured, and from the moment they had seen the large dust cloud in the distance, they had assumed that a major attack was about to be launched. One of the young men had even ridden ahead to camp to tell the warriors to prepare for battle. Now, while the warriors in the Nez Perce camp were readying for attack, General Howard and his men were setting up tents and tethering their horses. It was only midday. General Howard was impossible to understand.

When the news of General Howard's halt was relayed to the Nez Perce camp, the chiefs too were mystified. Howard was now only a short day behind. No one could understand why he would drive his troops so hard but be so afraid to fight. Yet he would not stop coming, would never give the people rest. They could keep running, but it was taking a devastating toll on their bodies and spirits. Perhaps it was time for them to take the offensive and bring on the decisive battle that Howard seemed so unwilling to undertake.

Black Hair, who had been wounded at the Big Hole, spoke up. Because of his wound, he could not sleep well. The previous night, while waiting for sleep, he had been given a vision by his
wayakin,
the great bird that lives in the clouds. With his bird's eyes he had seen Nez Perce warriors capturing soldiers' horses and other animals he could not identify. But he could identify the place. It was the same spot where the Nez Perce had stopped and the soldiers were now camped.

This gave many of the warriors hope. They had not heeded the visions at Clearwater, and they had lost much of what they had owned. They had not heeded the visions at the Big Hole, and many people had died. If Black Hair had seen them capturing horses in his vision, this time they would listen. They would attack the soldier camp and at least take the horses.

The men discussed the plan among themselves. It was a dangerous action. If they failed, the women and children would be left without protection, and all would fall into the hands of the soldiers and the their Indian scouts. But if they succeeded, the soldiers would be without horses and unable to follow. The time seemed right, and the young warriors needed the chance to fight or they would soon rage completely out of control. Eventually the decision was made. They would attack. They had to make this work.

They decided on a nighttime raid, when the soldiers were asleep. The men would ride back the eighteen miles on their horses, then gather together to make a final plan before attacking.

About thirty men were sent on the journey, including Looking Glass, Ollokot, Wottolen, Toohoolhoolzote, and all the good fighters, while the others remained in camp. The raiders made their way back through the sagebrush, traveling quietly in the moonless night. There was to be no loud talking, no smoking, nothing that would alert a sentinel or scout to their presence.

Moving slowly and carefully, they arrived above the soldier camp well after midnight. Here the older men, who had been in many battles, gathered everyone together to form a plan of attack.

Wottolen, whose daughter had died at the Big Hole, wanted to sneak into the camp on foot and kill Howard and the leaders. But Looking Glass said no, they should instead attack on horseback. The younger warriors concurred. They did not like to be far from their horses in battle.

Next came the question of whether to mount a full-scale attack or only steal the horses. Many liked the idea of attack. Everything was in their favor. They knew the land, having camped there only the night before. The soldiers were asleep, and it was a perfect avenging of the nighttime attack on the sleeping people at the Big Hole.

But others pointed to Black Hair's dream. In his vision, he had seen only the capture of animals. There had been no vision of battle. Though it would be good to stay and kill soldiers, it was better to follow the vision, to get the horses and leave the soldiers on foot, unable to follow. Then the warriors could get away without suffering more losses in battle. An army without horses in this country was as good as dead, anyway.

The discussion went back and forth as the night wore on. Finally, Ollokot became frustrated with the wrangling. Dawn was coming, he said, and if they waited until the sky lightened they would lose all advantage. He rode off toward the soldier encampment, announcing he was going after the horse herd. The others, acknowledging his wisdom, soon followed.

As they drew near, they slowed their horses to a walk so as to not alert the soldiers with the sounds of hoofs. Meanwhile, other warriors sneaked into the herd on foot to cut the tethers and bell harnesses from the pack animals.

It was a quiet night, and very dark, with stars but no moon. Howard had been so convinced of the safety of the location that he had not taken full battlefield precautions when setting up the camp. The Nez Perce had never yet attacked except in defense, and the open space with its surrounding emptiness and sight lines made an ambush almost impossible. So he had posted the minimal number of sentries and encouraged the rest of the men to bed down comfortably.

The troops had responded enthusiastically. For the first time since the Clearwater battle many of them would sleep with their boots and trousers off. Their few ragged clothes could air out, and they could get a good night's rest before pushing on after the fleeing Indians. The volunteer fighters from Virginia City were camped across the creek.

By two in the morning the camp was in restful silence. The quiet, dark, and chill night air was broken only by the howl of a distant coyote and the occasional shuffling and snorting of one of the tethered horses.

Suddenly, from just outside the camp, a shot rang out. The soldiers and volunteers leaped up and scrambled for their clothes and weapons. The Nez Perce too were taken by surprise. It was Otskai, the Nez Perce whose mind did not work right, firing his gun for no apparent reason.

All plans were now off. The Nez Perce, who were waiting in the darkness, rode screaming into the herd, cutting at the tethers and making war whoops and cries. They knew that soldier horses were afraid of Indians and would run if stampeded by shouting and gunshots. Other warriors rode among the soldiers' tents making as much noise and confusion as possible. The soldiers, unable to find their pants and boots, ran in all directions, and the civilian volunteers came splashing across the creek into the protection of the soldiers' camp carrying each other's boots, the wrong gun belts, and only half their clothing, shouting, “We are white men! Don't shoot!”

The Nez Perce drove the frenzied horses forward, gathering any animals they could as they passed. With gunshots and shouts they herded them toward the east, leaving a small group of warriors to hold off any pursuing troops.

The animals were slow and balky and difficult to drive, but the warriors pushed them hard through the dark. When they had finally outdistanced the soldiers and the sun was tracing the edges of the morning hills, the warriors slowed to examine the herd they had captured. To their disgust and astonishment, they discovered that they had captured mostly mules. Somehow, in the dark and confusion, they had missed the horses and gotten the pack animals.

The warriors were angry and embarrassed. How could such a thing have happened? What Nez Perce did not know mules from horses? Then they remembered Black Hair's vision. These were the animals the great
wayakin
bird could not identify. In the darkness, the warriors too had been blinded by the same power.

But there was no time for talk or recriminations. The soldiers were coming behind, some running, some on the horses that the warriors had failed to capture. The land now was almost all sagebrush and low hills, offering no cover and no identifying landmarks. Without some kind of rear-guard action, the soldiers would soon overtake the balky mule herd and reclaim their lost animals.