John Colter’s Escape From the Indians

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John Colter’s Escape From the Indians

John Colter’s Escape From the Indians

By Addison Erwin Sheldon, 1913

The vast expanse of early Nebraska, a territory encompassing the lands from present-day Nebraska and Kansas northward to the Canadian border, once held within its boundaries a region now known as Montana. It was within this untamed wilderness that one of the most extraordinary tales of survival in American history unfolded: John Colter’s Escape From the Indians. This is the story of a man pushed to the very limits of human endurance, a testament to courage, resilience, and the will to live against seemingly insurmountable odds.

John Colter, a seasoned frontiersman, etched his name into the annals of American exploration as a member of the famed Lewis and Clark Expedition. Having traversed the continent to the Pacific Ocean, Colter’s westward journey concluded, but his adventurous spirit remained undimmed. As the expedition made its return eastward in 1806, Colter’s keen eye noted the abundant signs of beaver activity along the headwaters of the Missouri River. Seized by the prospect of lucrative trapping, he sought and obtained permission from Captain Meriwether Lewis to remain in the area and pursue his trade. This decision, however, placed him squarely in the heart of Blackfeet territory, a region fraught with peril.

The Blackfeet, a powerful and formidable Native American tribe, held a deep-seated animosity towards white men. An incident involving Captain Lewis killing a Blackfeet warrior during an attempted horse theft had fueled their hatred, leading them to deal with any white intruder with ruthless efficiency. Colter was well aware of the danger, but the allure of the rich beaver streams proved too strong to resist.

Undeterred by the looming threat, John Colter, accompanied by another hunter named John Potts, ventured into the Blackfeet hunting grounds. Their strategy was one of cautious stealth: setting traps under the cover of darkness, retrieving them before dawn, and remaining hidden during daylight hours. They understood the risks, and their survival depended on their vigilance and knowledge of the wilderness.

One fateful morning, as the two men silently paddled their canoe up a narrow creek, intent on collecting their traps, they were startled by a sudden trampling sound emanating from the bank. Colter, ever alert, immediately recognized the danger. "Indians," he whispered, urging retreat. Potts, however, mistook the sound for buffalo and pressed onward. Their disagreement proved disastrous. Rounding a bend in the creek, they found themselves surrounded by a large band of Blackfeet warriors, who signaled for them to come ashore. Escape was impossible.

Realizing their predicament, Colter reluctantly steered the canoe towards the bank. As they reached the shore, a Blackfeet warrior attempted to seize Potts’ rifle. Colter, a man of considerable strength, intervened, wrestling the weapon from the warrior’s grasp and returning it to Potts. In a desperate act of self-defense, Potts fired the rifle, killing one of the Indians, but he was immediately met with a hail of arrows. Potts fell, mortally wounded.

The remaining warriors seized John Colter, stripping him of his clothing and initiating a heated discussion about his fate. Initially, some proposed using him as a human target for their arrows. However, the chief, seeking a more elaborate form of entertainment, inquired if Colter was a fast runner. Colter, understanding enough of their language to grasp the question, cleverly downplayed his athletic abilities, claiming to be a poor runner, despite being known among his peers as exceptionally swift. This deception would prove crucial to his survival.

The chief then led Colter out onto the open prairie, a few hundred yards from the main group, and gave him a chilling instruction: run for his life. With a deafening war whoop, the Blackfeet warriors unleashed their pursuit. Colter, now naked and barefoot, sprinted across the unforgiving terrain. The prairie was covered with prickly cactus, and with each stride, the sharp thorns pierced his bare feet. Pain surged through his body, but the primal instinct for survival propelled him forward.

Colter ran as he had never run before, driven by the knowledge that his life hung in the balance. He surged across the open plain, his destination the distant Jefferson River, some six miles away. He dared not look back until he had covered a considerable distance. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that he had outdistanced most of his pursuers, save for one warrior who carried a spear and was closing in rapidly, now only a hundred yards behind.

A glimmer of hope flickered in Colter’s heart, but the exertion of the chase was taking its toll. Blood streamed from his nose, covering his body in a crimson sheen. He pressed on, the image of the river spurring him forward. As he neared the riverbank, less than a mile away, he heard the distinct footsteps of the pursuing warrior growing ever closer. Turning his head, he saw the spear-wielding Blackfeet only twenty yards behind, poised to strike.

In a moment of sheer desperation and quick thinking, John Colter executed a daring maneuver. He stopped abruptly, whirled around, and spread his arms wide, an unexpected act that startled his pursuer. The Indian, caught off guard and exhausted from the chase, attempted to halt his advance but stumbled and fell to the ground, breaking his spear in the process.

Seizing the opportunity, Colter sprang into action. He grabbed the broken spear point and, with a swift, decisive movement, pinned the warrior to the earth. Without hesitation, he resumed his flight towards the river, leaving behind the enraged cries of the other Indians who had arrived to find their comrade slain.

Reaching the safety of the trees lining the riverbank, Colter plunged into the cool water. He knew he was far from safe, but the river offered a chance for escape. He swam downstream until he spotted an island, at the upstream end of which was a large raft of driftwood. With considerable effort, he dove beneath the raft, surfacing between the massive logs, using them as a natural screen to conceal himself.

He had barely secured his hiding place when the Blackfeet warriors arrived at the riverbank, their yells echoing through the trees. They searched the shoreline meticulously, even venturing onto the raft of driftwood, pulling apart the logs and peering into the gaps, desperately seeking their quarry. At one point, Colter feared they would set the entire raft ablaze, but his luck held.

As darkness descended, the sounds of the Indians gradually faded away. Only when complete silence reigned did John Colter dare to emerge from his watery refuge. He swam further downstream before finally crawling onto the bank. He was alone, naked, unarmed, and his feet were lacerated by cactus thorns. He was hundreds of miles from the nearest trading post on the Yellowstone River, surrounded by hostile territory. Yet, he was alive.

His ordeal was far from over. He began the arduous journey back to civilization, relying on his knowledge of the wilderness and his unwavering will to survive. He walked for days, enduring hunger, thirst, and the constant threat of discovery. He foraged for food, sought shelter from the elements, and remained ever vigilant, knowing that the Blackfeet could still be lurking in the shadows.

A week later, a gaunt and emaciated figure stumbled into the trading post, sunburned, starving, and barely recognizable. It was John Colter, miraculously alive after his harrowing escape. His story of survival became an instant legend, a testament to the indomitable spirit of the American frontiersman.

The saga of John Colter’s Escape From the Indians is more than just an adventure story; it’s a reflection of the courage and tenacity that defined the early explorers and trappers who ventured into the unknown. His ability to outwit and outrun his pursuers, his resourcefulness in the face of extreme adversity, and his unwavering determination to survive serve as an inspiring example of human resilience.

John Colter’s subsequent encounters with the Blackfeet eventually led him to abandon trapping. Using the proceeds from his fur sales, he relocated to New Haven, Missouri, where he purchased a farm and married a woman named Sallie in 1810. His life as a farmer, however, was short-lived.

In 1812, when the United States declared war on Great Britain, Colter enlisted in the military, serving under Nathan Boone. Ironically, after surviving countless encounters with hostile Native Americans, Colter’s life came to an end not on the battlefield, but due to jaundice. His remains were returned to Missouri and buried on a bluff overlooking the Missouri River near New Haven.

John Colter’s Escape From the Indians remains a powerful and enduring narrative. It serves as a reminder of the dangers faced by those who explored the American West and the extraordinary feats of survival that became part of its rich history.