With the Indians in the Rockies — Reading Notes

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In Category - Exploration Survival Adventure Tales

Authors: Schultz, James Willard, 1859-1947, Varian, George, 1865-1923 [Illustrator] Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2013 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Siksika Indians -- Juvenile fiction; Fox, Thomas, -1885? -- Juvenile fiction; Frontier and pioneer life -- Montana -- Juvenile fiction; Pitamakan -- Siksika Chief -- Juvenile fiction Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 43,724

Reading time 191 min

Text sections 4

This digital edition of With the Indians in the Rockies — Reading Notes is described by source-level measurements including 43,724 words, 3 hr 11 min estimated reading time, and 4 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 20.0 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Siksika Indians -- Juvenile fiction,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #42274

Schultz's editorial note examines how the opening, middle, and later excerpts of 'With the Indians in the Rockies' guide a first reading, focusing on the preface's framing, the bear-hunt scene's tension, and the narrative's reliance on memory and collaboration.

Editorial Edition Score 4.7/5

★★★★★ ★★★★★

Calculated from edition completeness, EPUB availability, text structure and catalogue metadata. Not a user rating.

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Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
EPUB file integrity20 pts

Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.

Edition quality

File: pg42274

Read the Text

That was all he said, but the reproof was enough. I took it to heart, and all my life I have not only profited by it, but preached to others against the wanton taking of life.

After passing St. Charles, Missouri, the ranches of the settlers were farther and farther apart, and in a few days we saw the last of them and were in the wild country. Game now became more and more frequent, especially white-tail deer, of which we soon had some for the table. The boat was always tied to an island or to the shore at sundown, and during the short remainder of daylight we would all scatter in the near timber to hunt. A number of wild turkeys were killed, which made us some fine feasts. On these occasions, however, I was only a follower of the hunters. My red-letter day was yet to come.

At Fort Pierre we saw a great number of Sioux Indians. Formerly a company post, it had been sold to the United States, and was now occupied by several companies of soldiers. Two days after leaving the fort, we sighted the first of the buffalo herds, a small band of bulls that splashed out of the river not far ahead of the boat, and took to the hills. About four o'clock that afternoon, the port engine breaking down, we had to make a long stop for repairs. As soon as we swung into the bank and learned that the boat would be tied there for the night, my uncle got out his rifle, and we went hunting.

The timber bordering the river was half a mile wide, with an undergrowth of willow- and rose-brush so thick that we never could have penetrated it but for the game trails crossing it in every direction. From the looks of them, I thought that thousands of animals must be living there. The trails were worn deep by their sharp hoofs.

In places the earth was moist but hard, and there the tracks were plainly outlined. My uncle pointed out the difference in them--how the tracks of the deer differed from those of elk, and how these differed again from the tracks of the buffalo. I was taught, too, that wolf tracks were longer than those of the mountain-lion, which were nearly circular. Finally, I was asked to prove my knowledge.

"What made those tracks?" I was asked.

I hesitated a moment, and replied that I thought buffalo had made them.

"Right," said my uncle. "They seem very fresh; we will follow them."

The myriad tracks of different game, the mystery of the deep woods, the thought that hostile Indians might be there hunting us, all combined to excite me. My heart thumped rapidly and I found it difficult to breathe. I was afraid, and kept looking intently in all directions--even behind me, for I expected every moment to see something come charging through the brush, either to rend us with sharp claws or to stick our bodies full of arrows.

But nothing could have induced me to admit that I felt so; gritting my teeth, I followed on uncertain legs, close at Uncle Wesley's heels. So close was I that when he suddenly stopped, I bumped into him, and then gave a little squeal of fright, for I thought that he had discovered something to justify my fears.

"_Sh-h-h-h!_" he cautioned, and reaching back and drawing me to his side, he pointed significantly ahead.

We were only a few yards from the outer edge of the timber; a hundred yards farther on were three buffalo bulls, standing motionless on the open, sparsely grassed bottom-land. How big they were! How majestic and yet uncouth they loomed before me! They had apparently no necks at all. Forgetting entirely our purpose in coming there, I stared at them with intense interest, until my uncle passed me the rifle and whispered, "Take that farthest one. He is young and in good condition. Aim low, close behind his shoulder."

My hands closed on the long-barreled, heavy weapon. Heretofore my boy strength had been sorely taxed to shoot with it, but now, in my tense excitement, it fairly leaped to my shoulder, and I was able to hold it steady. I pulled the trigger.

_Bang!_ A thick cloud of powder smoke drifted into my face, and then passed on, and I saw two of the bulls running across the bottom; the other was swaying, staggering round and round, with blood streaming from its mouth. Before I could reload, it toppled over with a crash and lay still.

Continue Reading →

The preface establishes a layered narrative: Schultz presents himself as the editor of Thomas Fox's unfinished memoir, a man he knew personally. The opening lines—"When in the seventies I turned my back on civilization"—immediately signal a departure from conventional society, a theme that recurs in the excerpts. The dedication to his wife and the mention of Fox's death from an old bullet wound add a somber, retrospective tone. Readers should note how the preface frames the story as a collaborative reconstruction, not a straightforward autobiography.

The Preface as a Frame

The preface is essential for understanding the book's structure. Schultz explains that Fox told his adventures "by the evening camp-fire" and that Schultz later took notes and urged Fox to write. The preface reveals that Fox's manuscript was incomplete—"some parts of it he wrote with infinite detail; other parts consisted only of dates and a few sentences." This admission warns readers that the narrative may be uneven. The closing image of Pitamakan, a Blackfeet chief, crying at Fox's grave and calling him "my brother" establishes a deep emotional bond that likely underpins the story. The preface thus functions as a key to the text's authenticity and emotional weight.

Tension and Strategy in the Bear Hunt

The bear-hunt excerpt showcases the story's vivid, dialogue-driven style. The two boys—the narrator and Pitamakan—plan to attack a bear with clubs, a risky strategy that the narrator questions: "I have always heard that any animal will fight when it is cornered." Pitamakan's response—"But we are not going to corner this bear"—reveals a pragmatic, almost reckless confidence. The scene escalates when they discover the bear has left its den, only to find a second trail. Pitamakan's sudden hesitation—"I am thinking that the bear there in the cave may be a grizzly"—introduces genuine danger. The narrator's admission, "Of course I was afraid, but I was also desperate," captures the mix of fear and necessity that drives the plot. The excerpt ends with the bear "right there in the dark hole," leaving the outcome uncertain.

Voice and Collaboration

The excerpts reveal a distinctive narrative voice: the narrator speaks in a direct, colloquial style, often using short sentences and interjections like "Yes?" and "Go on!" The dialogue feels natural, with interruptions and pauses that mimic real conversation. The relationship between the narrator and Pitamakan is central; they address each other as partners, and their decisions are made jointly. The narrator's internal thoughts—"I wondered whether, if we failed to stop the animal with our clubs, Pitamakan would venture to defy his dream"—show a reliance on Pitamakan's cultural beliefs. This collaboration extends to the book's creation: Schultz's preface emphasizes that the story is a joint effort between Fox and himself, a point that colors every episode.

Setting and Sensory Details

The excerpts ground the story in a specific landscape: the Rockies, with "the short, bare slope before the cave," snow-filled entrances, and "the big wide slope and the thick forest." The setting is not just backdrop but an active element—the trail "turned sharply to the left and went quartering back into the timber," forcing the characters to adapt. Sensory details are sparse but effective: the narrator's voice sounds "strangely hollow" to him, and Pitamakan "grinned, and danced a couple of steps" upon discovering the second trail. The preface's description of Fox's burial on a "high bluff overlooking the valley of the Two Medicine River" ties the landscape to memory and loss. Readers should attend to how the environment shapes the characters' choices and moods.

Narrative Gaps and Reader Engagement

The excerpts leave several questions unanswered: Does the bear attack? Do the boys succeed? How does the story connect to Fox's later life? The preface's admission of incomplete notes means readers must accept ambiguity. The bear-hunt scene ends mid-action, a technique that builds suspense but also reflects the fragmentary nature of the source material. Schultz's role as editor is not to fill every gap but to present Fox's voice as faithfully as possible. This approach invites readers to become active participants, piecing together the narrative from the clues provided. The emotional weight of the preface—Fox's death, Pitamakan's grief—adds a layer of poignancy to even the most adventurous episodes.

For a first reading, pay attention to the interplay between the preface's framing and the action scenes. The bear-hunt excerpt is a microcosm of the book's strengths: vivid dialogue, cultural tension, and a setting that feels both beautiful and threatening. The incomplete nature of the manuscript means that some episodes may feel abrupt or unresolved—this is intentional. Approach the text as a collaboration between Fox, Schultz, and the reader, and let the gaps spark curiosity rather than frustration.

Schultz’s note about memory and collaboration made me think of my grandfather’s bear stories—half-remembered, half-reshaped each telling. That same ache of trusting imperfect recollection surfaced when I read Ned Wilding's Disappearance; or, The Darewell Chums in the City — Reading Notes, where the city feels like a maze built from fragments. Both books lean on what’s half-glimpsed, and I find that gentler than certainty.