Shawn McFarland

John Colter

My name is John Colter, and I was a member of the Corps of Discovery. I went with Captain Lewis and Captain Clark when they crossed the continent from St. Louis to the Pacific Ocean and back again.

I was born near Staunton, Virginia around 1775. When I was about five years old, my family moved to Maysville, Kentucky. I was still living there when, on October 15, 1803, Captain Lewis recruited me to be a part of the Corps. Between Captain Lewis and Captain Clark, they recruited nine of us in all, the “nine young men of Kentucky.” George Shannon and I were the only two actually recruited by Captain Lewis. The others were recruited by Captain Clark.

After being recruited, we went to Camp Dubois, or Camp Wood, to get ready for traveling across to the Pacific. While we were there, I had a few discipline problems. The first happened around late February or early March, when both Captain Lewis and Captain Clark were out of camp. I, along with a few others, went to a local grog shop, something Sergeant John Ordway had ordered us not to do. When Captain Lewis came back from St. Louis, all four of us were confined to camp for ten days. He told us that when both he and Captain Clark were away, the sergeant they put in charge had as much authority as either of them.

The next incident happened about a month later. On March 29, 1804, we were getting pretty tired at being at Camp Dubois, and a bunch of fights broke out. During all of this, John Shields and I threatened Sergeant Ordway’s life. This got us both court-martialed, but we apologize and promised we’d do better. Two days after that, both Shields and I were asked to become permanent members of the Corps.

After that, my record stays pretty clean. I was described as being courageous and quick-witted. My skills as a hunter were well respected. And the captains trusted me. In August of 1804, I was helping Captain Clark to scout the trail before us. When it was clear the way we were going wouldn’t work for the Corps, Captain Clark trusted me to deliver a message to Captain Lewis. Not long after, they asked me to go try and find George Shannon after he got himself lost, though I didn’t find him. He actually found himself; he’d gotten ahead of the party and didn’t realize until he’d almost starved to death. I also had the honor of being one of the first to accompany Captain Clark to the shore of the Pacific Ocean.

When we were on the way home, just before hitting Fort Mandan, where we’d spent the winter of 1804-1805, we came across two fur trappers, Forest Hancock and Joseph Dickson, who were on their way up to trap along the Yellowstone River. They followed us to Mandan, where they convinced me to go with them. I asked Captain Lewis and Captain Clark for an early discharge, which they gave me so long as everyone else agreed to go all the way to St. Louis. I left with them in August of 1806, but our partnership lasted all of six weeks before we went our separate ways.

I was one of the first of the mountain men, and I’m actually more famous for my experiences as a trapper than I am for my time with the Corps. In 1807, I crossed paths with Manuel Lisa, who had supplied the Corps before we left St. Louis. He was heading up the Missouri while I was going down to St. Louis. I agreed to lead his party to the mouth of the Big Horn.

In 1809, I was trapping with John Potts, another member of the Corps. We were trapping in Blackfeet country, not the wisest thing to do, when we heard noises around the river bend. I said it was Black feet, but Potts was sure it was buffalo. Even though I was right, I didn’t feel very happy rounding the bend and seeing 500 or 600 Blackfeet on shore.

They motioned for us to come into shore, which was just about the only thing we could do. We landed and got out. One of them took Potts’ rifle, so I took it and gave it back. At this point, Potts made a big mistake. He pushed the canoe back out into the river. One of the Blackfeet shot him in the leg with an arrow, so he shot back. A few seconds later, Potts resembled a pin cushion, and the Blackfeet were trying to figure out what they were going to do with me.

I understood just enough to know they were debating between tying me up and using me for target practice, and letting me go and chasing me down. They took the second choice. They stripped me of everything I had, right down to my boots, and put me on the prairie. The chief asked me if I could run fast. I told him I was a very bad runner. This may have saved my life. They gave me a 400 yard head start, and by the time they realized I’d lied about my running skills, they were too far behind to do anything about it.

I didn’t have any clothes and I didn’t have any shoes. That last bit is more important because this prairie was covered with prickly pear. After five miles, only one of them had kept up, so I turned around and killed him with his own spear. After grabbing his blanket, I set off again. After another mile, I reached a river and dived into it. I hid myself under a pile of logs that had been washed downstream, absolutely terrified that the Blackfeet were going to find me, or set fire to my hiding place. They gave up around dark, but I stayed a few more hours to be safe. After I crawled out of the river, I headed for Manuel’s Fort. Seven days and 300 miles later, I made, but I was exhausted, starving, and sunburned.

While I was trapping in the northwest, I entered into a place unlike any I had ever seen before. It was filled with pools of mud that boiled, holes that shot water 100 feet into the air, and water that steamed. When I told people about it, they didn’t believe me, calling it “Colter’s Hell.” But it does exist, and today is located within Yellowstone National Park. I am credited with being the first white man to visit the park, to see Yellowstone Lake, and to make it through the area where Jackson’s Hole, Wyoming is.

I trapped until 1810, when I’d had enough. I moved to New Haven, Missouri, married a nice girl named Sallie, and we bought a farm. In 1812, when the United States declared war on Great Britain, I joined U.S. Volunteer Mounted Rangers and served under Nathan Boone. I died on May 7, 1812, of jaundice. My wife and I weren’t very rich and she couldn’t afford to bury me, so she just left me in the cabin, “lieing in state” as she called it. I stayed there for 114 years, when a steam shovel was clearing the land in 1926. They found my bones and a leather bag with my name stamped on it. I was buried on a bluff in New Haven that overlooked the Missouri River.

Bibliography

Anderson, Irving. “Private John Colter,” Lewis and Clark: The Journey of the Corps of Discovery, PBS, 1997. Available online from:  http://www.pbs.org/lewisandclark/inside/jcolt.html (Accessed 15 November 2005).

This is probably the most comprehensive source of information available on the Internet. It was created as a companion to the Ken Burns’ film “Lewis and Clark: The Journey of the Corps of Discovery” and is one of the best places to find information on the Corps of Discovery.

A website that contains information that few other sources widely publish, including the circumstances regarding Colter’s death. It also includes information about other members of the Corps.

Answers.com is a comprehensive on-line encyclopedia. The information that it contains is pulled from a variety of sites, including PBS.org. Not only does the site contain links for every other article that mentions the name John Colter, it also provides a link within the text to any other article where the subject is mentioned. Being a compendium of information, some of the results must be treated with some skepticism and should be verified elsewhere.