Reader beware! This is not your typical story of holiday cheer and good will towards men. The tale I’m about to unfold is not for the squeamish, nor the faint of heart. Furthermore, the harsh realities reported herein might serve to dislodge any romantic notions that certain readers may have concerning the idyllic lifestyles of our native brothers, especially as they are often portrayed in various forms of fiction. Contrary to popular belief, all was not calm and peaceful on the western front before the coming of the white man. In fact, tribal warfare was generally accepted as a way of life in the West, and many of the indigenous people were locked in a constant and unforgiving struggle for dominance over their neighboring tribes.

Fierce wars were waged in order to retain hunting rights on land that was widely contested, and vengeful animosities ran deep, sometimes spanning countless generations. In this endless battle fought for tribal dominance, unspeakable acts of cruelty were often perpetrated against lifelong foes. The following story will demonstrate the imbedded hatred and mistrust that existed between two of these rival tribes at the time. Of course, similar stories of conflict and strife can be found throughout all societies of man, regardless of race, creed, or color, and there are seemingly no limits to the unimaginable horrors that men will subject their fellow men to. However, as this particular story reveals, all men do have the opportunity to redeem themselves, especially when they are presented with the proper incentives.

The year is 1813, and a young man by the name of Ross Cox has been sent from Fort Astoria, near the mouth of the Columbia, to conduct trade with the Salish and Kootenai Indians of western Montana. Cox had entered the fur trade at the age of 18, and within a year had helped to establish a trading post on the Clark Fork of the Columbia while serving as an employee of the Pacific Fur Company. When Fort Astoria was sold to the NorthWest Company in 1813, Cox signed on as a clerk with the new owners, and was soon ordered by the company to return upriver to take command of an outpost known as Saleesh House. Cox was already familiar with the region, and the post he had helped to establish the year before was situated just forty miles west of Saleesh House. David Thompson, cartographer and explorer for the NorthWest Company, had built Saleesh House in 1809, and the crude log structures were the first permanent buildings constructed in Montana west of the Continental Divide. The fort was located near the confluence of the Thompson’s and Clark Fork rivers, in the vicinity of present day Thompson Falls.

Ross Cox arrived at the outpost on the 24th of December 1813, and the supplies and trade goods he brought with him were a welcome sight to both the men who were stationed at Saleesh House, and the Indians who were eager to trade their valuable furs for tobacco and ammunition. In his daily journal Cox reported that a “large band of the Flathead warriors were encamped about the fort. They had recently returned from the buffalo country, and had revenged their defeat of the proceeding year by a signal victory over their enemies the Blackfeet, several of whose warriors, with their women, they had taken prisoners.”

In anticipation of the Christmas Eve festivities, Cox brought along a bag of flour, a bag of rice, plenty of tea and coffee, and a generous supply of prime rum. The traders spent a relatively happy evening together gathered around a blazing fire in a warm room, but Cox noted that there was “a great drawback from the pleasure we should have otherwise enjoyed. I allude to the unfortunate Blackfeet who had been captured by the Flatheads. Having been informed that they were about putting one of their prisoners to death, I went to their camp to witness the spectacle.” When he arrived at the scene Cox saw that the Flatheads had tied the enemy combatant to a tree, “after which they heated an old barrel of a gun until it became red-hot, with which they burned him on the legs, thighs, neck, cheeks, and belly. They then commenced cutting the flesh from about his nails, which they pulled out, and next separated the fingers from the hand, joint by joint.”

Cox says that during the torture the prisoner never winced or cried for mercy, instead he lashed out with demeaning verbal reproaches, further spurring on the barbarous ingenuity of his tormentors. “My heart is strong,” said the fearless enemy. “You do not hurt me. You can’t hurt me. You are fools. You do not know how to torture. Try it again. I don’t feel any pain yet. We torture your relations a great deal better because we make them cry out loud like little children. You are not brave, you have small hearts and you are afraid to fight.”

Boldly facing his tormentors, the prisoner noticed a particular foe and taunted him with a personal affront. “It was by my arrow you lost your eye.” The angry Flathead quickly lunged at him with a vengeful rage, scooping out one of his eyes with his knife, and cutting the bridge of his nose nearly in two. The captive was unfazed. He looked at another brave with his remaining eye and said, “I killed your brother, and I scalped your old fool of a father.” The enraged warrior sprang upon him, viciously removing his scalp from his head, and was about to plunge his knife into his heart, when the Salish chief stopped him. The captive stared at the chief with defiant contempt and said to him, “It was I that made your wife a prisoner last fall. We put out her eyes. We tore out her tongue. We treated her like a dog. Forty of our young warriors…” Infuriated by the mention of his wife, the Salish chief angrily took up his gun, and before the desperate captive could finish his sentence, the chief shot him through the heart.

Cox reported that “Shocking as this dreadful exhibition was, it was far exceeded by the atrocious cruelties practiced on the female prisoners, in which, I am sorry to say, the Flathead women assisted with more savage fury than the men. I only witnessed part of what one wretched young woman suffered, a detail of which would be too revolting for publicity.” Cox protested vigorously against the unspeakable cruelties committed upon the Blackfeet captives. He was in turn informed that the Blackfeet treated them in the same manner, and that it was the custom of all warriors to exact this type of revenge upon their enemies.

After the Salish had explained their position, Cox says that a young female was led forth, “apparently not more than fourteen or fifteen years of age, surrounded by some old women, who were conducting her to one end of the village, whither they were followed by a number of young men. Having learned the infamous intentions of her conquerors, and feeling interested for the unfortunate victim, we renewed our remonstrance’s, but received nearly the same answer as before.” Finding the Indians still inflexible to their demands, Cox and his men attempted to adopt a different tact. “We ordered our interpreter to acquaint them that, highly as we valued their friendship, and much as we esteemed their furs, we would quit their country forever unless they discontinued their unmanly and disgraceful cruelties to their prisoners. This had the desired effect, and the miserable captive was led back to her sorrowing group of friends.” The traders told the Salish that their redeeming act of self-denial was admirable, and that as a result they had insured a permanent residence among them, and in return for their furs, they would always be furnished with guns and ammunition to repel their enemies.

With these incentives in hand, the Salish chief faithfully avowed that no more tortures would be inflicted on the prisoners, and Cox believed that the promise was rigidly adhered to, at least for the remainder of the winter. Cox had promised the chief that if he sent the captives home uninjured, he would ask his fellow traders on the east side of the mountains to exert their influence over the Blackfeet, and induce them to follow the chief’s example. He stressed the fact that ultimately this might be the means of bringing the two rival nations closer to a lasting peace. Eventually, all of the Salish chiefs consented to the plan, and at the end of the winter the prisoners were furnished with enough horses and dried venison to get them back home amongst their loved ones.

The rivalry between these two tribes had been going on for many generations, and up until the Canadian traders started providing the Blackfeet with guns, the Salish usually enjoyed the upper hand in most of the battles. By the time modern weapons reached the Salish people, nearly two decades later, their population had been considerably decimated by an unrelenting war with the Blackfeet. The Salish had taken refuge in the western-most part of Montana, and only ventured east of the divide for their seasonal buffalo hunts. The temporary peace that was affected by Ross Cox and his fellow traders on that Christmas Eve so many years ago was not enough to completely wash away the immeasurable pain and suffering these ancient enemies had inflicted on one another. It wasn’t until forty years later when a peace treaty known as the Blackfoot Council finally brought an end to their persistent aggression and the constant sorrow born of it.