When on maneuvers the Quartermaster would pack up what was needed for the days activities such as ammunition, some medical supplies and whatever else might be useful and join the company on their march.
HIs usual position in the troops lineup was towards the rear of company where he was somewhat protected and could set up to dispense his wares as needed. HIs favorite mode of transport were his reliable mules who were steady and reliable under fire.
Being mobile and adaptable the Quartermaster was one of the most important members of the troop, bringing necessary supplies to wherever they were needed.
It was around mid-June, maybe the 14th or 15th of 1876 and General Alfred Terry of the United States Army had led one of the three Columns of troops heading toward the meadow known as the Greasy Grass where the Little Big Horn river flowed gently though the valley. The 7th cavalry was a part of this column under the command of General George Armstrong Custer. A large camp of Lakota and Cheyenne were known to be in the area and a huge battle was imminent.
After one of the three columns were met and turned back by the Indians General Terry halted his column and made camp. He then sent General George Armstrong Custer out with the 7th to gather intelligence on where the Indians might be camped. While Custer was gone time was spent getting the troops and their gear ready for the forthcoming battle. The Quartermaster was in charge of a sort mobile general store filled with military items and it was his job to hand out whatever was needed to keep the troops ready for action. Missing gear was reissued, repairs were made to what ever was broken or damaged, saddle straps mended, rifle slings replaced if necessary, bullet pouches filled, all the necessary small items soldiers carried with them that needed to be ready and in good condition were reconditioned and made ready for the events to come.
The Quartermaster was the person to see for any extra parts and other sundries that might be needed. Since it wasn’t known when they might see action the Quartermaster’s tent was kept open late so everyone could get what they needed. At this time there had been no word back from Custer and the troops took the opportunity to rest and make sure they were as squared away as possible before they moved out. It was a chance to get a little rest, eat some food and get ready for what ever was next. As a result the Quartermaster kept his store open late.
It’d been a rough couple three days at the rendezvous. The whiskey ran out just when things were going strong and the boys faced a dry spell until the next wagon got there with a fresh supply. The trader, who went into hiding shortly after he found out the whiskey was gone in fear of his hair being lifted by his customers or worse, frantically sent his assistant out to see where the incoming wagon was. The Mountain men only had one chance to drink this season and their supply was gone. The boys were getting perturbed. Things could get real dicey if they didn’t replenish the supply before somebody brought out the Hawkins.
Turned out the wagon was near but unfortunately it was upside down in Little Cowfoot creek due to the inattentiveness of the driver and the whiskey barrels were halfway down to the Green river bobbing along without a care in the world. A rescue team was sent out immediately with strict instructions to save the inventory and bring it back to camp forthwith without breaching a single one of the barrels. However Mountain men being Mountain men those instructions only lasted until they got the first barrel located and then those instructions were immediately modified due to the prevailing theory that water may have infiltrated the kegs and ruined the whiskey by diluting it. There was nothing for it but to crack the keg and check it.
A second team including the trader himself was dispatched and they found the first team in need of rescue due to incapacitation. Some were laying half in and out of the creek, some just sitting there mumbling in tongues and some just lost. Finally amid much gnashing of teeth, and threats of great harm to those rescuers if they had busted into the barrels by those left in camp, the whiskey reached the trader’s tent amid great cries of huzzah, and jubilation rang in the air. Everyone rushed to the make shift bar set up in the trader’s tent and with only a small amount of disorderly shoving and knuckle busting and an infrequent bite to the ear or back of the neck if a line jumper dared to try and improve his chances of getting his drink first, their thirst was finally satisfied.
The herd had moved back into the low rolling hills surrounding the shallow water hole keeping just below the ridgeline and bunching up with the foals inside the outer ring for safety. They didn’t have many enemies but once in awhile a grey wolf down out of the McCullough Peaks range just to the North would take a run at a new foal so they were constantly on the alert. The wolves were over from the Yellowstone area to the West and although the pickings were good there once in a while an outcast or a young male looking for a mate would find his way over and young horse flesh was a real treat if he could manage it.
The herd stallions and there were three with this bunch were nervous, constantly checking the sky and smelling the air. Their ears forward, nostrils flared, seeking any sign of danger, constantly shifting and circling the mares who were bunched as tight as they could be, keeping them as centered as they could in case they had to be moved suddenly.
The skies had that leaden gray look, the clouds filled to the brim with water and pent up energy. Dry lightning had been flashing off in the distance and that made the herd nervous and skittish. Prairie fires racing along ahead of the wind had caught an unwary horse or colt before and the mares were concerned for the new foals who didn’t have the stamina to keep up if they had to run.
The storm had held off throughout the afternoon but suddenly broke with a furious violence right after darkness had set in. A lightning strike in the center of the herd was all it took for the herd to ignite into movement and scatter to the four corners, mares racing off into the darkness in all directions with their foals in tow, the stallions frantically trying to keep the group together, but it was a lost cause for the moment. Total fear and self preservation taking over all thoughts of herd discipline were gone. In its place was only the thought of getting away from the nearest dangers, a reaction to the night terrors that were a constant part of their lives on the open plains.
Caution is the best word to describe how to travel through hostile country. Any hasty wrong move on your part could be your last so the old adage “Hurry ahead slowly.” comes into play as you round every corner or crest every rise.
Having a traveling companion that was sure footed, intelligent, and aware of the dangers of the trail was paramount if you wanted to avoid trouble, or at least be ready for it if it was unavoidable. Here Pete the mule spotted something in the shadows down below that didn’t feel right or smell right and he’s alerted his rider with pitched forward ears and a steady stare. Always ready to err on the side of caution this mule and its rider won’t be moving until they’re sure it’s safe.
Fort Uncompahgre was a trading fort. it was built to handle the fur trade by being a way station of sorts, hence it’s lack of fortification. The walls were upright logs stuck in the ground and housed the necessary buildings inside to handle the business of trade. The traders store, the saddlery shop, an early version of a Starbucks, all the things the folks gathered around the fort needed were inside its walls. If there was danger of some sort you could get in there quick and shoot out from between the logs, but it was never built to stand up to any type of attack.
It was more of a mini-transportation hub where goods such as beaver hides, other types of furs and trade goods were temporarily stored before being sent on to the larger forts, or dispersed to customers further down the trail. Due to the fact that the internal combustion engine would not be invented for at least another hundred years, the primary form of drayage, the hauling of freight by other that humans carrying it on their backs, was by donkey and mule. Since there were few roads in the area and travel was primarily by trails which were often just rocky steep paths, donkeys and mules were the most efficient forms of haulage at your disposal, if you will.
Normally loading the donkey was pretty straightforward. You needed three guys for the task. One big guy to press down on the donkey’s back to keep it from unexpectedly leaping into the air ruining the plans to load it, another guy to lift the heavy bales of pressed furs to go on the donkeys back, and a third smaller guy to watch and take notes. And the donkey of course. Bales weighing tons of pounds were placed on the donkeys back until its legs just began to bow then tied tightly (the bales not the donkey’s legs) so they wouldn’t slip off if the donkey managed to be able to do anything but shuffle forward. That’s why the big guy was needed as some donkeys would be aware of this whole loading and walking thing and would try to avoid it by hiding, playing dead, disguising itself as a large neighborhood dog, or the tried and true method of leaping into the air unexpectedly until the traders gave up in disgust and went to storehouse for some whiskey.
The donkey above is a new donkey and hasn’t learned any of those tricks yet, but the men are taking no chances anyway. Once the bales are loaded on its back there’s none of this leaping up in the air and so on. It’ll be lucky its legs stay on or don’t sink into the ground. These were considered the short haul vehicles of the day as they were easily maneuvered thru tight canyons, up rocky ledges, down boulder strewn paths and able to take very tight turns with ease. All in all the best choice for this type of freighting.
Around about the first Week in June the cow elk head up into the high brush to drop their calves. They leave the protection of the herd to individually find that spot they picked out for this years birthing. Many births results in twins and the cow stays up in her protected place until the calves are big enough and are ready to head down and rejoin the herd.
As this is a favorite time for the grizzlies and wolves to seek out the newborn calves, hiding means saving many of the calves from becoming dinner for the hungry predators. Nature in its own inscrutable way provides many checks and balances. Replenishing the herds on one hand and on the other side providing sustenance for the predators. All designed to keep things on an even keel.
Today however, it’s a new day and the family heads on down into the valley and meadows to join the other new additions to seek safety in the herd by adding to its numbers, thereby raising the odds of keeping the newborns safe. Her strategy worked this time by keeping her calves well hidden from danger and now it’s up to luck and the caprice of nature as to what happens next.
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