Chapter 53: Indians at Shoshone Falls

 

Friday, August 13th—Camped at Cauldron Linn. Mac took me to the falls, which are splendid. The dry air chaps my skin.

 

On Saturday they rode west, leaving the Snake as it curved north. They arrived at Rock Creek while the sun was still high, and Captain Pershing called the halt.

“What’s that roar?” Jenny asked Mac as they made camp.

“Shoshone Falls. Pershing says it’s bigger than Cauldron Linn. Higher than Niagara,” Mac said, “That’s the biggest falls I’ve ever seen.”

Cauldron Linn had been huge—Jenny couldn’t imagine anything larger. “Where’s Niagara?”

“Western New York. I saw it two years ago on a summer trip.” Mac smiled. “Magnificent.”

Zeke stopped by their wagon. “Pa says we’re taking a rest day tomorrow. Folks need more meat. Those who want can ride to Shoshone Falls.”

“Would you like to go?” Mac asked Jenny.

“We need meat,” Jenny said. She did want to see the falls, but she didn’t want to take Mac away from what he should be doing. And she was so sick of eating fish.

“I’ll hunt this afternoon. If I shoot something, we’ll ride there tomorrow. Maybe Esther and Daniel will come, too.”

“All right.” She smiled up at him.

Mac set off with the other hunters after the noon meal. Jenny found Esther at the Pershing wagons with Jonah and Rachel.

“Where are the other children?” Jenny asked.

“Fishing with Tanner and his boy. I hope they catch something.”

“I’m tired of fish,” Rachel complained.

“Me, too,” Jenny said. “First, all we had was buffalo, now it’s fish. What I’d dearly relish is some boiled greens.”

Esther shrugged. “Probably greens around, if we knew what to use.”

“Sage. That’s all there is.” Rachel sighed. “Sage and more sage.”

Jonah let out a wail.

“How’s he doing?” Jenny leaned over to touch the baby’s cheek. Would her child be as sweet as Jonah?

Esther laughed. “He’s getting fat. Cow’s milk surely agrees with him. I don’t bother Mrs. Dempsey at all now, and I even gave her little girl a cup of milk yesterday. I hope the cow stays fresh.”

“How are you feeling?” Jenny asked. If Jenny had counted the weeks right, Esther was far enough long in her pregnancy to start feeling queasy.

Esther gestured at Rachel and shook her head. “I’m fine,” she said.

So Esther had not told Rachel about her pregnancy yet. “Would you and Daniel like to ride to Shoshone Falls tomorrow?” Jenny asked.

Esther grimaced. “Depends on Mrs. Abercrombie. I said I’d help her tomorrow, if I could spend today with Jonah and the others.”

“If she’ll let you go, I’ll watch Jonah,” Rachel offered. “I don’t mind.”

Esther hugged her sister. “Rachel’s such a help, now she’s not afraid of the baby.”

“He was so little at first. And cried all the time,” Rachel said.

“Now he’s got milk, he’s the happiest baby.” Esther smiled at her brother, then looked up. “I swear he smiled back.”

“You’re like his mama to him,” Jenny said.

Tanner and the children soon returned with a string of fish. “Catfish!” Jenny exclaimed. “Just like in Missouri.”

“Yep. Also trout. Take your pick,” Tanner said.

Jenny and Esther chose what they wanted.

“You ladies be careful,” Tanner said. “Saw Indians fishin’ on the creek nearby.”

“Indians?” Jenny looked up in alarm. “What’d they do?”

“Didn’t bother us none,” Tanner said. “But stay near camp.”

“I won’t leave the wagon, if there’s Indians around,” Rachel said.

The hunters returned at sunset. Mac carried a gutted deer carcass slung across the back of his saddle. “This’ll feed us for a while,” he said as he dismounted. “We found a small herd. Shot several. Whole camp will eat well tonight.”

“And Tanner brought us catfish,” Jenny said. “I’ll smoke the fish tonight to eat tomorrow.”

They ate a quick supper. Later, while the fish smoked, Jenny sat beside the fire and wrote:

 

Saturday, August 14th—Camped at Rock Creek. Indians nearby. Fresh venison tonight. Tomorrow we ride to Shoshone Falls.

On Sunday morning Jenny made breakfast of smoked catfish on biscuits, then packed a picnic for their ride. After their Sunday prayers, Mac saddled the horses.

Esther and Daniel joined them, along with Zeke and Joel. As the six rode out of camp, Captain Pershing said, “Watch out for Indians. Doubt they trouble you, but don’t let yourselves be surprised.”

Shoshone Falls was an easy five-mile ride north of camp across the high sage-covered plateau. As they rode, Jenny heard the roar. “Must be close.”

Mac shook his head. “Still more than a mile away.”

“The water is that loud?” she asked.

Zeke laughed. “Pa says you can’t hear yourself talk when you’re right at the falls.”

They reached the black lava bluffs above the river and looked over the edge. “My heavens!” Jenny cried.

“Must be a thousand feet wide,” Mac said. “And two hundred feet down.”

The water fell like a veil over cliffs in the river. Several veils really, Jenny thought, gazing from one gushing torrent to the next.

“Shall we ride down?” Zeke asked.

“How?” Esther said.

“I see a way to the top of the falls.” Zeke pointed with his hat. “Not sure how to get down farther.”

“Let’s take our picnic to the top,” Daniel said.

They rode down the hill, their horses stepping solidly on steep switchbacks, until they stood by the water cascading into a crashing pool below.

The men tethered their mounts to sage bushes, while Jenny and Esther laid out biscuits, venison, and dried fish. They ate, but talked little, deafened by the roar of the falls.

Zeke pointed to a pool at the bottom. “Indians.”

Jenny grabbed Mac’s arm. “They have spears.”

“Fishing,” Joel said. “Fish can’t get any farther upriver, ’cause of the falls. Bet that pool is teeming with trout.”

“Shall we go see?” Zeke asked, jumping to his feet.

“I’m not going down there,” Jenny said.

“Me neither,” Esther said.

“I’ll stay with the women,” Daniel said. “You all go on.”

Mac stood. “You all right here?” he asked, looking down at Jenny.

“As long as you come back,” she said. She worried, but he should be safe with Zeke and Joel.

Mac grinned. “I’ll be back.” He and the Pershings saddled their horses and picked their way down the steep bank to the bottom.

Jenny saw when the Indians noticed the men approaching. Several braves stood up, facing the white men, spears no longer pointing at the water, but held ready to attack. Zeke raised his hand to the Indians. Jenny couldn’t hear, but saw gestures between Zeke and the natives. Mac took something out of his saddlebag and handed it to one of the braves. The brave nodded and handed Mac a parcel. The three white men waved and started back to the top of the falls.

When the men returned, Esther asked, “What did they want?”

Zeke laughed. “We bought fish from them. And told them we’d take all the dried fish they could bring us in camp tonight.”

“Was that wise?” Daniel asked. “How many will come?”

“Oh, I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” Zeke said. “I didn’t see any guns.”

“We’d better get back to camp before they do,” Mac said. “So the rest of our company isn’t surprised.”

As the group rode back, Jenny asked Mac, “What did you give the Indians?”

“A button,” Mac said. “Came off my shirt yesterday. Bought a fresh trout for a button.” He held out the parcel he’d received from the Indian brave.

More fish, Jenny thought.

That evening as the travelers fixed supper, ten Indian braves rode their horses to the edge of camp. Even though Jenny expected them, fear rose in her throat. Would the Indians trade and leave? Or would they bother the company?

Captain Pershing walked over to the Indians and raised his hand in greeting. Zeke and Mac joined him. Jenny watched as the men bartered with gestures and offerings of blankets and other goods to exchange for the fish.

Mac brought back an armload of dried salmon. “What’d you have to give for them?” Jenny asked.

“Your buffalo robe,” Mac said.

Jenny swallowed hard. The robe had been such a comfort on the trail. She started for the wagon to get it.

“Stop,” Mac said. “I was joking. I traded the rest of our venison for the salmon.”

“Why?” Jenny asked, almost as perturbed about losing the venison as the buffalo skin. “We had fish from Tanner. And more from the Indians at the falls. The deer was the first real meat we’ve had since Fort Hall.”

“Indians know how to keep the salmon from spoiling. We can eat it for days.” Mac piled the fish on a barrel. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

“I don’t like eating fish all the time.” Jenny knew she sounded petulant, but that’s how she felt. She didn’t want to eat the same thing every day. She didn’t want to be in this hot, dry land. She didn’t want to be with these people any longer. And she hated Indian food.

“Just find someplace to store it.” Mac slammed his hat on his head. “And pack up the wagon. We’re starting out at first light.” He turned to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“Peace pipe with the Indians. I’ll be back late.”

Jenny did as Mac ordered, but got angrier as she worked. What right did he have to tell her what to do?

She threw the last of the fish in the wagon, then took out her journal.

 

Sunday, August 15th—Indians at Shoshone Falls today. Mac traded fresh venison for dried salmon. I am so sick of fish. When will this journey end? The wonders we have seen do not make up for loss of comforts and home.