William Johnstone - Butchery of the Mountain Man

The trappers, most of whom had lived in total isolation for many months previous, very much looked forward to the rendezvous. It was here that the trappers and mountain men could mingle with other human beings, renew old friendships, and make new friends. The gatherings were known to be lively, joyous places, where all were allowed: trappers, Indians, Native trapper wives and children, travelers, and later on, even tourists who would venture from as far as Europe to observe the festivities. As Smoke Jensen described, there was “mirth, songs, dancing, shouting, trading, running, jumping, singing, racing, target shooting, yarns, frolic, that entertained and delighted white men and Indian alike.”—ED. ]

Rendezvous, Montana Territory—Spring 1870

The smoke of scores of campfires could be seen from some distance away. Then, as John and Smoke got closer, they were also aware of smells, and sounds of Rendezvous, aromas of roasting meat from the many cooking fires, but also odors that were considerably less pleasant, being the stench of scores of mountain men who had neither bathed, nor changed clothes for the entire winter.

In addition to the mountain men, there were also merchants, photographers, painters, writers, and more than a hundred Indians. The air was alive with the sound of drums, Indian flutes, Indian chants, as well as guitars, and even a bagpiper.

And of course, there was the fur trader. Only one fur trader.

There was a time, in the early days of trapping, back before the war and the western migration, when Rendezvous would be the biggest city between the Pacific Ocean and St. Louis. And though those days were over now, and Rendezvous was no longer the mountain men’s only contact with civilization, Rendezvous were still big and important events, still attended by everyone who called himself a trapper.

This rendezvous in 1870 would be Smoke’s third but it was John Jackson’s first and he was very much looking forward to it. The two men rode in to the rendezvous leading mules that were laden with both beaver and marten skins. They were greeted by a representative of only one fur-trading company, which meant there was no haggling for the best price. You took what the fur company offered, or you would have to take your furs to someplace like St. Louis and try and sell them there.

“ Ahch,” one old mountain man said in disgust. “In the old days there were many dealers who came, and we could find the best price.”

“Well, there you go, old-timer. This isn’t the old days. Now the price we’re paying this year is seventy-five cents for a beaver plew and a dollar and a half for marten fur. Beavers aren’t that much in demand anymore. The beaver hats have gone out of style, and the womenfolk think the marten fur is prettier. Are you going to take my offer, or not?”

“What choice do I have?” the trapper complained. “Yes, I will take your unfair offer.”

“Hell, Seth, what does it matter to you, anyway?” one of the trappers said. “You’ll be spendin’ it all on whores and trinkets and such while you are here, anyway. By the time you leave, you won’t have two coins to jangle in your pocket.”

The others laughed.

“I might want one or two extra whores, and an extra trinket or two,” Seth replied, and again, there was laughter.

After John sold his plews, he had money in hand for the first time in almost a year.

“Look at this,” he said, displaying his new wealth. “I’ve got twelve hundred and thirty-five dollars. Why, I’m practically rich.”

“I didn’t do bad myself,” Smoke said. “I’ve got a little over a thousand dollars.”

“You’ve actually got more than that. I feel like at least half of my money is rightly yours for coming along with me, and teaching me the ropes. To say nothing of the liquor and food and pack mule you bought me whenever we were able to get into town.”

“Nonsense. I learned everything from Preacher. It’s only right I should pass along what I know to you. The liquor and food is nothing, you were my and Preacher’s guest. You can pay for the mule, but it only cost forty dollars.”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t seem right to me.” John smiled as he counted out forty dollars. “But who am I to argue? If you say this money is rightly mine, I have no compunctions about keeping it.”

“What are you going to do with all your money?” Smoke asked.

“First off, I’ve got to buy a few of the necessaries,” he said. “Some more ammunition, maybe a rubber slicker, never knew how much one would come in handy. And a knife, boy, do I need a good knife. I want you to help me pick one out.”

“Nothing to it,” Smoke said. “We’ll find you a Bowie knife with a good handle. That’s all you’ll need.”

“You stay right there until I come get you. Do you understand that, you ignorant bitch? You don’t move, you don’t say nothin’ to nobody, you don’t do nothin’ till I come back.”

The speaker was a wiry-looking man with a hawk-like nose and pockmarked skin. His hair was long and stringy. The person he was talking to was a young Indian woman, probably in her early twenties. She was pretty, but there was a cowed look about her, obviously the result of being browbeaten by the man who was yelling at her. John looked at her and smiled in an attempt to cheer her up, but she looked down at the ground, as if frightened to be caught returning his smile, or even his glance.

“Who is that most unpleasant gentleman?” John asked.

“I don’t know who he is, but I know who he isn’t. He isn’t a gentleman.”

“You certainly have that right.”

“Let’s pick you out a knife,” Smoke suggested.

“All right. I need some ammo too, some more .50 calibers, some .44s for the carbine and pistol.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Are you going to stock up for the next season?” John asked.

Smoke shook his head. “No, this is it for me. After Rendezvous, I’ll be going my own way. I’ve taught you about as much as can be taught. The rest of it you’re going to have to learn on your own. But I expect that you have acquired enough skills that you can move around without getting yourself killed.”

“I would certainly hope so,” John said.

“Mister, if you ain’t plannin’ on a-buyin’ one of them blankets, move on out of the way so the others can have a look at them,” a harsh voice said, and looking around toward the speaker, John and Smoke saw that it was the same man who had been yelling at the young Indian girl a few minutes earlier.

“I’m sorry about that,” John said. “I didn’t know I was blocking your merchandise.”

“You dumb-assed mountain men are so damn stupid that it’s a wonder you can even find your way here ever’ year.”

John said nothing but he did move away. He was smiling as he did so. “Did you hear that, Smoke? He called me a mountain man. All right, it was a dumb-assed mountain man but a mountain man nevertheless.”

Smoke chuckled. “You are a mountain man, John, and there is absolutely nothing dumb assed about it. Like I said, you have acquired all the skills you need.”

John reached out to take Smoke’s hand, and he covered it with his other hand.

“Skills aren’t the only thing I’ve acquired, Smoke. I’ve acquired a friend, a good friend. And I’m telling you now that if there is ever anything I can do for you, all you have to do is let me know. If I have to, I’ll soak my britches in kerosene and walk into hell to kick the devil in the ass for you.”

Smoke laughed. “Well, I haven’t been that much into churchgoing since I came out here. But I sort of have a hope that I won’t ever be needing someone to go into hell on my part. I’d just as soon not be there, if it’s all the same to you.”