others, John Potts, who has been mentioned in connection with the Lewis and Clark expedition. Potts was of course an experienced mountainman, knew the Indian character in detail, and was brave even to rashness. Colter and Potts being re-united naturally made their plans to trap together during the season of 1808. I take it that they were free trappers attaching themselves to Manuel Lisa's company. Colter evidently led the way and the two went up and trapped on the northern tributaries of the Missouri.

In Bradbury's "Sketches of the Northwest, (London, 1812), the writer claims that Colter came to St. Louis in May 1810, in a small canoe from the headwaters of the Missouri, a distance of three thousand miles which he traversed in thirty days. "I saw him on his arrival," says Bradbury, "and received from him an account of his adventures after he had separated from Lewis and Clark's party. One of these I shall relate. On the arrival of the party on the headwaters of the Missouri, Colter, observing that there appeared to be an abundance of beaver there, got permission to remain and hunt for some time, which he did in company with a man named Dixon, who had traversed alone the immense tract of country from St. Louis to the headwaters of the Missouri. Soon after, he separated from Dixon and trapped in company with a hunter named Potts; and, aware of the hostility of the Blackfeet Indians, one of whom had been killed by Capt. Lewis, they set their traps at night and took them up early in the morning, remaining concealed during the day. They were examining their traps early one morning on a creek about six miles from that branch of the Missouri called Jefferson's Fork, and were ascending in a canoe, when they suddenly heard a great noise resembling the tramping of animals, but they could not ascertain the fact, as the high perpendicular banks on each side of the river impeded their view. Colter immediately pronounced it to be occasioned by Indians, and advised an instant retreat, but was accused of cowardice by Potts who insisted that the noise was caused by buffaloes, and they proceeded on. In few moments their doubts were removed

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by a party of five or six hundred Indians presenting themselves, and beckoning them to come ashore. As retreat was now impossible, Colter turned the head of his canoe to the shore, and, at the moment of its touching, an Indian seized the rifle belonging to Potts, but Colter immediately retook it and handed it to Potts who remained in the canoe, and, on receiving it pushed off into the river. He had scarcely quitted the shore when an arrow was shot at him and he cried out, 'Colter, I am wounded!' Colter remonstrated with him on the folly of attempting to escape, and urged him to come ashore. Instead of complying, he instantly leveled his rifle at an Indian, and shot him dead on the spot. This conduct may appear to be an act of madness; but it was doubtless the effect of sudden and sound reasoning, for, if taken alive, he must have expected to be tortured to death, according to their custom. He was instantly pierced with arrows so numerous that, to use the language of Colter, 'he was made a riddle of.' They now seized Colter, stripped him entirely naked, and began to consult on the manner in which he should be put to death. They were first inclined to set him up as a mark to shoot at; but the chief interfered, and, seizing him by the shoulder, asked him if he could run fast. Colter, who had been some time among the Keekatsa or Crow Indians, had in a considerable degree acquired the Blackfeet language and was well acquainted with Indian customs. He knew that he now had to run for his life, with the dreadful odds of five hundred or six hundred against him—those armed Indians. Therefore he cunningly replied that he was a bad runner, although he was considered by the hunters as remarkably swift. The chief now commanded the party to remain stationary, and led Colter out upon the prairie three or four hundred yards and released him, bidding him to save himself if he could. At that instant the horrid war-whoop sounded in the ears of poor Colter, who, urged by hope, ran at a speed which surprised himself. He proceeded toward the Jefferson Fork, having to cross a plain over six miles in width abounding with the prickly pear, on which he was

every instant treading with his naked feet. He ran nearly half way across the plain before he ventured to look over his shoulder, when he perceived that the Indians were very much scattered and that he had gained ground to a considerable distance from the main body; but one Indian who carried a spear was much before all the rest, and not more than a hundred yards from him. A faint gleam of hope now cheered the heart of Colter. He derived confidence from the belief that escape was within the bounds of possibility; but that confidence was nearly proving fatal to him, for he exerted himself to such a degree that blood gushed from his nostrils and soon almost covered the fore part of his body. He had now arrived within a mile of the river, when he distinctly heard the appalling sound of footsteps behind him, and every instant expected to feel the spear of his pursuer. Again he turned his head and saw the savage not twenty yards from him. Determined, if possible, to avoid the expected blow, he suddenly stopped, turned round, and spread out his arms. The Indian, surprised at this sudden action, and perhaps at the bloody appearance of Colter, also attempted to stop; but, exhausted with running, he fell while endeavoring to throw his spear, which stuck in the ground and broke in his hand. Colter instantly snatched up the pointed part, with which he pinned him to the earth, and continued his flight. The foremost of the Indians, on arriving at the place, stopped till the others came up to join him, when they set up a hideous yell. Every moment of this time was improved by Colter, who, though fainting and exhausted, succeeded in gaining the skirting of the cottonwood trees on the borders of the Fork, through which he ran and plunged into the river. Fortunately for him, a little below this place was an island, against the upper point of which a raft of drift timber had lodged. He dived under the raft and after several efforts got his head above water among the trunks of the trees, covered over with smaller wood to the depth of several feet. Scarcely had he secured himself when the Indians arrived on the river, screeching and yelling, as Colter expressed it, like so many devils.'

They were frequently on the raft during the day, and were seen through the chinks by Colter, who was congratulating himself upon his escape until the idea arose that they might set the raft on fire. In horrible suspense he remained until night, when, hearing no more of the Indians, he dived from under the raft, swam silently down the river a long distance, when he landed and traveled all night. Although happy in having escaped from the Indians, his situation was still dreadful. He was completely naked under a burning sun. The soles of his feet were entirely filled with the thorns of the prickly pears. He was hungry and had no means of killing game, although he saw abundance around him, and was at least seven days from Lisa's Fort on the Big Horn branch of the Roche Juan river. Those were circumstances under which any man but an American hunter would have despaired. He arrived at the Fort in seven days, having subsisted upon a root much esteemed by the Indians of the Missouri, now known by naturalists as the Psoralea esculeuta.”

Irving, in "Astoria," also tells this story, yet makes no reference to Bradbury as the author, but as he wrote it many years before Irving published his Astoria, I prefer to place the credit where it belongs.

It is not necessary for my history to trace Colter's life further. I will only say that he remained another year in the mountains, but whether he trapped in Wyoming in 1809, or in some other locality, I do not know. Bradbury, it will be observed, says that he returned to St. Louis in May, 1810.

Washington Irving says that John Colter met the Astorians on their way up the Missouri in 1811 and kept with the party all one morning, and would have returned with them to the mountains had it not been for the fact that he had married since his return.

John Colter, from the most authentic accounts, was the first American to enter Wyoming, and is also the discoverer of the Yellowstone National Park. Other white men had been in Wyoming, but they were not Americans. Had Colter been employed by the government and provided with

a scientific outfit so as to have made an official record of his travels and discoveries, his name would have rung down the ages along with those of Lewis and Clark, Zebulon Pike, John C. Fremont and others equally famous in the annals of history. Unfortunately, he had to deal with people who were too narrow-minded to comprehend the wonders of the headwaters of the Yellowstone. His associates for the most part were ignorant trappers who heard his stories with derisive laughter and referred to the locality of the Park as "Colter's Hell." Why Bradbury, with his great enterprise and love of adventure, did not investigate for himself the locality, it is hard to say; or that the celebrated English traveler, Mr. Nuttall, who heard Colter's story, should think it unworthy of investigation, is strange indeed. H. M. Brackenride, who knew Colter well and talked with him. about his travels, seems to have imbibed the opinions of the ignorant trappers. He mentions Colter in his writings, and speaks of his discovery of a low pass through the mountains, but fails to give any account of our hero's discoveries at the head of the Yellowstone. Here were three men who went out in 1811 in convoy of fur traders, and each had an opportunity to make his name immortal by investigating Colter's discoveries, but they did not take advantage of the knowledge they possessed. Colter will, without their aid, be known and recognized as the discoverer of that wonderland which has been set apart by the American government for the use and benefit of the American people. Other men have done much in the way of exploring this worldrenowned Park and bringing it to the attention of the people, but John Colter is without doubt the first white man to behold the wonders of nature grouped together in that part of Wyoming. At some day a monument will be erected in the midst of this national pleasure ground, and on it will be inscribed the name of John Colter, the discoverer of the Yellowstone National Park, 1807.