Volume 44 - No. 37
September 18, 2014
by lyle e davis
Editor’s Note: This is a continuation of a series that was first republished in our July 31st edition. Excerpts from a journal detailing Mr. Beckwourth’s life make for fascinating reading and a return to our pioneer roots and life.
The journal was dictated by Mr. Beckwourth to a T. D. Bonner, who obviously used the flowery language of that day to tell the tale. Odds are that Mr. Beckwourth was rather rough in his language. Mr Bonner “flowered it up.” Originally published in New York by Harper & Brothers, Publishers,1856:
Severe Sufferings in the Camp.— Grand Island.—Platte River.—Up the South Fork of the Platte.— The Dog, the Wolf, and the first Buffalo.
On our arrival at the upper camp, related in the preceding chapter, we found the men, twenty-six in number, reduced to short rations, in weakly condition, and in a discouraged state of mind. They had been expecting the arrival of a large company with abundant supplies, and when we rejoined them without any provisions, they were greatly disappointed. General Ashley exerted himself to infuse fresh courage into their disconsolate breasts, well knowing himself, however, that, unless we could find game, the chances were hard against us.
We remained in camp three or four days, until we were well refreshed, and then deliberated upon our next proceeding. Knowing there must be game farther up the river, we moved forward. Our allowance was half a pint of flour a day per man, which we made into a kind of gruel; if we happened to kill a duck or a goose, it was shared as fairly as possible. The third evening we made a halt for a few days. We had seen no game worth a charge of powder during our whole march, and our rations were confined to the half pint of flour per day.
We numbered thirty-four men, all told, and a duller encampment, I suppose, never was The Paper - 760.747.7119
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witnessed. No jokes, no fireside stories, no fun; each man rose in the morning with the gloom of the preceding night filling his mind; we built our fires and partook of our scanty repast without saying a word. At last our general gave orders for the best hunters to sally out and try their fortune. I seized my rifle and issued from the camp alone, feeling so reduced
in strength that my mind involuntarily reverted to the extremity I had been reduced to with Harris. About three hundred yards from camp I saw two teal ducks; I leveled my rifle, and handsomely decapitated one. This was a temptation to my constancy; and appetite and conscientiousness had a long strife as to the disposal of the booty. I reflected that it would be but
an inconsiderable trifle in my mess of four hungry men, while to roast and eat him myself would give me strength to hunt for more. A strong inward feeling remonstrated against such an invasion of the rights of my starving messmates; but if, by fortifying myself, I gained ability to procure something more substantial than a teal duck, my dereliction would be sufficiently atoned, and my overrul-
The Further Adventures . . . Continued on Page 2