Captured by the Blackfeet: Part 2

Howdy folks and greetings from the Great Plains of North Texas! I'm continuing with my short series about an incident that happened to one of our most famous Mountain Men, Sam Minard.

To recap yesterday's introduction post: the time is the early 1800's, the place is in the Rocky Mountains of Wyoming, in the winter time. Sam's decision to free a pair of large Elk who were trapped by their own horns interlocking had taken his attention and alertness to his surroundings away and he had been surprised by a war party of Blackfeet who he was forced to surrender to.

The Blackfeet and Sam were mortal enemies as he had scalped and killed a number of them in previous fights.

Sam was filled with rage and regret but was helpless to act without certain death so he reluctantly raised his hands while a group of Blackfeet warriors trained their rifles on him.

A large, well muscled brave, fierce looking, standing over 6 feet tall with the headress of a subchief lowered his rifle and walked toward him. The chief stared at Sam, coming a foot from his face, his dark eyes glaring under the black war paint. Sam stared back with cold blue-gray eyes.

This is probably similar to the war paint that the Blackfeet wore, this is one example of Blackfeet paint:

The Chief gathered spit and spat full on into Sam's face. Sam felt a rage run through him from head to foot. He could easily grab the Chief and break his neck but then he would be felled by the rifles.

Chief unsheathed Sam's knife and unbuckled his gun belt and threw them behind him. The other braves came forward and began shouting and dancing around Sam.

This was a great victory for them, they had captured the mightiest of the Mountain Men and enemy of their people so they danced and shouted with much glee and gloating while Sam stood with his arms crossed, motionless...and began to think.

Sam assesses his situation

He reckoned there were almost 60 braves. He knew from previous incidents what was likely to happen to him. The Blackfeet were very good traders and negotiators and enjoyed getting a large ransom from the Crow for captives.

They would demand guns, ammunition and other supplies. The Crow would take captives like Sam or native enemies and extract revenge on them by torturing them to death over a period of several days.

But he didn't think he would be seriously wounded or harmed by the Blackfeet because that would lesson his value to the Crow.

The braves continued to dance for some time, individually coming up to him gesturing with their knives or tomahawks but the Chief kept them in check.

The party prepares to leave

They bound his hands in front of him with thick leather thongs and attached a 30 foot leather rope to the thongs and tied that to the horn of a saddle.

He didn't see any of them even glance at the Elk. When they were mounting up and getting ready to leave Sam yelled at them and motioned to them to free the Elk.

The Chief walked over and examined the interlocking horns and gestured that they had enough meat, that they would leave them to the wolves. This infuriated Sam as he couldn't stand the thought of leaving such noble animals to a slow and agonizing death.

Sam shouted and cursed and gestured. The Chief then summoned a pair of warriors to the Elk who put them out of their misery by shooting them in the base of their skulls.

The march begins

The group then mounted up, except Sam who walked behind the horse whose leather rope he was tied to. The snow was knee deep. He knew they would keep him alive but aimed to weaken him by marching him all day.

Whenever he would attempt to bend down to scoop up some snow to quench his thirst the big brave leading him on the horse would violently jerk the rope and prevent him from getting any. Sam was enraged but convinced himself to stay calm.

He studied the brave's features as well as the Chief's. He committed them to memory and swore to kill them after he escaped.

He was hoping they would stop to eat but they didn't stop all day. Occasionally one would leave his spot in line, break off a branch and ride up to Sam, striking him in the face with a cutting, stinging blow. Blood trickled down his forehead and beard.

First night encampment

Sam had a 5 gallon jug of Rum on his pack horse and he was praying that they'd get into that Rum but the Chief was smarter than that. They didn't stop until midnight that first night.

They tied the rope to a tree and allowed Sam to sit down with one guard watching him. He was soaking wet and sitting in snow. The party still didn't touch the Rum which was Sam's only hope at this point, for them all to get drunk. But the Chief was disciplined and wasn't allowing any drinking.

He could easily take out the guard in front of him, especially if the guard fell asleep, but that wouldn't do him any good unless the rest were drunk.

Oh good, dinner!

While the party had a fire going and were eating, one of them brought Sam a cup of steaming..something..some type of soup. It looked nasty but Sam needed every bit of nourishment he could get. He thought it had bits of owl or crow meat in it. He gulped it down as fast as he could.

Some tribes enjoyed giving their white captives nasty food with hair, crickets, beetles, ants and such in it and to watch their reactions to the gross stuff. (there were also tribes that were kind and helpful and worked with the Mountain Men and white traders.)

It was a form of entertainment to them but Sam determined that no matter what it looked or smelled like he was going to down it and give no expression.

With no chance of escape on this night he laid down. He had to get some sleep and conserve as much strength as he could. He needs to attempt an escape in the next 24 hours, whether it's suicidal or not, while he still has some energy.

Sam's story continues on the next post.

Thanks for reading folks, God bless you all!
-jonboy Texas
the gentleman redneck

PS- ya know....you might just be a redneck if your preacher at church asks for Bubba to help take up the offering and 5 men and 2 women stand up!