The attachments formed between men, where the privileges and enjoyments of social life are confined to the monotonous round of a mining camp, are necessarily strong. The surroundings, which dictate great prudence in the choice of friends, where confidence is once established, are continually strengthening the ties that bind men to each other. Self-preservation and self-interest will furnish apologies for incompatibilities of temper in the mountains, which would sever friendships formed in less exposed communities. The sterling qualities of truth, honor, integrity, and kindness are sooner ascertained and more highly prized among miners than any other class. We have seen the operation of these principles in the instance of Beachy and Magruder, a very strong but not an exceptional case; this is another narrative of similar import.

Rudolph Dorsett arrived at Bannack with a party of miners from Colorado, in April, 1863. During the following Summer, he, in company with John White, the discoverer of the Bannack mines, and a few others, left for the interior on a prospecting tour. The Winter of 1863–64 found the little party near the head of Big Boulder Creek, where they had made some promising discoveries. Being nearly out of provisions, White and Dorsett started on horseback for Deer Lodge, to obtain a fresh supply. At the head of Boulder, they came upon one Kelley and a comrade, who had made a camp there, and been detained several days by deep snows. They were literally “snowed in”; and, their food being exhausted, they had killed and were feeding upon one of their horses.

After supplying their immediate wants, White and Dorsett, discouraged by the gathering snows from any further effort to cross the main ridge, changed their course, and, taking the two men with them, started for Virginia City, where they arrived after three days of perilous travel. Kelley and his partner were entirely destitute. Their kind benefactors made known their condition to Henry Thompson and William Rumsey, and they paid their bills at a restaurant the two days succeeding their arrival; and other citizens of Virginia City, at Dorsett’s solicitation, provided them with clothing. An arrangement was made for Kelley and his comrade to return with White and Dorsett to their camp; but, when the time came to leave, Kelley said that he had been promised a horse the next day, which he would get and overtake them. The three men departed without him, and, after a cold ride of several days, found their party camped on the upper waters of Prickly Pear Creek. They were all in excellent spirits, and supposed they had found a very prolific placer. Dorsett, true to the confidence reposed in him by his friends, Thompson and Rumsey, returned immediately to Virginia City, to apprise them of his good fortune, so that they might improve the earliest indications of a stampede, and secure a good interest in the placer mine. This is one of the rigid requirements of friendship in a mining region. No matter how distant the discovery may be, nor how difficult the journey, when a mine is found of any value, it is the duty of the discoverer, before disclosing it to the public, to notify his friends, that they may make sure of the best location. Indeed, in the early days of Montana, there were hundreds of old miners, experts in the business of prospecting, who, being unable to purchase “grub,” were fully supplied with horses, food, and tools, upon the distinct understanding that they were to share with those who “outfitted” them in all their discoveries. Woe to the man who was base enough to violate this agreement! If he escaped lynching he never failed being driven from the country by the hisses and execrations of every “honest miner” in it. There was held

During the night following the departure of White, Dorsett, and Kelley’s partner from Virginia City, a mule belonging to William Hunt, and a horse owned by another citizen of Virginia City, were stolen. Dorsett was informed of this on his return, and, not having seen Kelley since his promise to overtake his party, he at once suspected him of the theft. The mule was a very fine animal, which Hunt had purchased of Dorsett in Colorado.

“If I find him,” said Dorsett, as he mounted his horse to return to the mine, “I will recover and send him back to you.”

The second day after this promise was made, while crossing the divide between White Tail and Boulder, Dorsett met Kelley in possession of the stolen animals. After a brief conversation, Dorsett asked,

“Where did you get that fine mule, Kelley?”

“The man at Nevada, who promised me the horse I told you about, could not find him, and gave me the mule instead.”

Not wishing to arouse Kelley’s suspicion, Dorsett asked no more questions, but, with a friendly “good-bye,” rode on as rapidly as possible to his camp. He was informed that Kelley had been there, and had told the miners that some friend in Deer Lodge had sent him a written offer to furnish provisions and a good outfit for prospecting. He was going there immediately to accept it, and had bought both horse and mule for that purpose. When they were informed that the animals were stolen, White agreed to join Dorsett, and they started immediately in pursuit of the thief, thus furnishing another instance of the strength of that friendship which neither the freezing weather and mountain snows, nor long days of travel and long nights of exposure, could overcome. The single thought of serving a friend put to flight every consideration of personal comfort or convenience. They did not expect to be absent longer than three days at the most.

A week passed and nothing was heard from them. Dorsett had promised Thompson and Rumsey, when he left, that he would return to Virginia City in five or six days. Ten days expired without bringing any intelligence. Rumsey’s fears were aroused for the safety of his friends. Being at Nevada on business, he mentioned incidentally this strange disappearance, and Stephen Holmes, a bystander, observed that, four days before, while at Deer Lodge, he had met Kelley with Dorsett’s horse, revolver, Henry rifle, and cantinas, and that Kelley had told him he traded for them with a man at Boulder. With characteristic promptness, Rumsey replied to Holmes,

“The men have been murdered by the scoundrel, and he is fleeing with their property.”

To think, with such men as Thompson and Rumsey, was to act. No time was to be lost. Thoroughly equipped for a long pursuit, Thompson and a friend named Coburn started immediately upon the track of Kelley, and at the same time James Dorsett, brother of Rudolph, organized a party with which he went as rapidly as possible to the Boulder, in search of the missing men. This little party passed the first night at Coppock’s ranche on the Jefferson. The next day, while passing through a hollow on the Boulder range, called Basin, they found tracks diverging from the road in the direction of White Tail Deer Creek. They followed that stream nearly to the forks, when suddenly they saw, some distance before them, two men emerge from the thin forest of pines. They spurred their horses into a sharp run. The men turned at the sound and raised their guns, and stood upon the defensive. The approaching party, rifles in hand, drew nearer, and a conflict at long range seemed inevitable. Fortunately, at this moment, one of the two men recognized James Dorsett, and dropped his gun, and with friendly gestures rode toward him. Offensive demonstrations were soon followed by hearty greetings. The two men proved to be John Heffner and a comrade, who had just been searching in the willows for a suitable camping ground for the night.

“I have found,” said he, in a mournful tone, “what you are searching for. Rudolph Dorsett and John White have both been murdered, and their bodies are in the willows.”

“My God!” exclaimed James, “my brother murdered!” and, bursting into tears, he followed Heffner into the clump.

“I came in here,” said Heffner, “to pick up some wood for a camp-fire. This heap of coals and burned sticks attracted my attention. Thinks I, there’s been campers here before. I looked around and caught a glance at the saddle. It startled me, for it seemed a very good one, and I thought it strange that any one would leave it here. I examined it narrowly, and, lifting it up, I beheld the dead face of John White. You may well believe I was frightened. On turning to call my partner, I almost stumbled over the corpse of your brother, which was covered with an overcoat. We had just completed our survey of the camp, and stepped out of the bushes to look up another camping place, when we heard your horses.”

On a close examination of the spot, appearances indicated that White and Dorsett, with Kelley as a prisoner, had arrived there either at a late hour, or without any provisions, as there was no evidence of cooking. They had tied their prisoner with twisted strips of blanket, pieces of which were found near, and, as they doubtless supposed, secured him for the night. A few fagots had been heaped up for a morning fire; and the theory of the murder advanced by the searching party was that, while White was on his knees kindling the fire, Kelley freed himself from his bonds, picked up White’s revolver, and shot him twice in the back of the neck; then seizing his rifle, turned and shot Dorsett, who was gathering wood a little distance away, through the heart. An armful of wood lay scattered where he had fallen. His skull was beaten in pieces, a bowlder lying near, bespattered with blood and brains, bearing gloomy testimony to the manner in which it was done. After this his body had been dragged some twenty steps from the spot where he fell, and stripped of its clothing, which the murderer had taken away with him, and wore the day that Holmes met him at Deer Lodge. White’s body had also been removed, and the saddle placed over the face. The bodies were taken to Coppock’s ranche, and thence to Virginia City for burial.

This was one of the earliest and most brutal tragedies in the newly discovered gold region; and, happening when they were populated mostly by Eastern people, and before Plummer and his band of ruffians had been arrested in their grand scheme of wholesale slaughter, it produced a profound sensation throughout the country. The desire to capture and make a public example of the ruffian who had committed the shocking crime was universal. All eyes were turned to the pursuit of Kelley by Thompson and Coburn, and all ears open to catch the first tidings of its success. These men were beyond the reach of information of the discovery of the bodies at the time it was made, but they had found evidence by the way, which convinced them that their friends had been assassinated. At Deer Lodge a pistol which Kelley had sold was identified by Thompson as the property of Dorsett, and his initials, R. R. D., were graven on the handle. They pushed the pursuit to Hell Gate, procuring two relays in Deer Lodge Valley. Finding that the deep snows rendered the Coeur D’Alene Mountains impassable, they turned back to take the route into Oregon, by Jocko and Pend d’Oreille lakes. Between Frenchtown and Hell Gate they met an Indian with Dorsett’s saddle, which Thompson took from him. Forty miles below Jocko, they reclaimed the horse from a little band of Indians who had traded for it with Kelley. Proceeding on towards the Pacific, they met a company of miners, who had met Kelley fifteen days before, on his way to Lewiston.

The men pursued their journey, following the devious windings of Clark’s Fork to its junction with the Snake River, and thence on to Lewiston,—a tract of country at that time more disastrous for winter travel than perhaps any other equal portion of the continent. There were no roads, and the solitary Indian trail leading over the mountains, through caÑons, and across large rivers, for much of the distance was obscured by snow, and in many places difficult and dangerous of passage. Had their object been anything less than to avenge the death of their friend, they would have turned back, and consoled themselves with the reflection that it was not worth the risk and exposure needful to win it; but, with that in view, they welcomed privation and danger while a single hope remained of its accomplishment.

At Lewiston, Coburn remained on the lookout, while Thompson continued the pursuit farther west. At the hotel in Walla Walla, Thompson found Kelley’s name upon the register. He learned, on inquiring of the clerk, that he had told him he came from the Beaverhead mines. The barber who shaved him remembered him, because he paid him an extra price for the service. Kelley had purchased a new suit of clothes, of which Thompson procured a sample. With these clews Thompson hastened to Portland, and ascertained that Kelley had spent nine days there, and left by steamer for San Francisco. In fact, on the day that Thompson arrived at Portland, Kelley entered the harbor of San Francisco. Thompson telegraphed the chief of police to arrest and detain him until he arrived. He had taken the precaution to obtain requisitions from the Governor of Idaho on the Governors of Oregon, California, and Washington, and a commission as special deputy United States marshal.

Chief Burke, on receipt of the telegram, called at the hotel where Kelley had taken quarters, and, not finding him, gave no further attention to the matter. Learning on his return that he had been inquired after, Kelley, suspicious of the object, left the city at once, taking with him an overcoat and pistol belonging to a fellow boarder. Thompson found, on his arrival at San Francisco, that the bird had flown, but in what direction he was unable to ascertain. After spending some time in fruitless inquiry, he returned home with nothing better than his labor for his pains. It was a sore disappointment, but none the less demonstrative as an illustration of personal devotion and attachment.

Kelley returned to Portland, and soon disappeared from public view. Thompson was constantly on the lookout for him, and in 1864 heard of him as a participant in a robbery committed in Port-Neuf CaÑon. It was ascertained that after the robbery Kelley went to Denver, where he was known by the name of Childs. He remained there several months. Thompson heard of his being there, and sent a man to identify him. Kelley took the alarm, and left immediately by the Oregon route for Mexico. Thompson wrote to a friend in Prescott to arrest him en route, but the letter arrived too late, as the rascal had passed through the town several days before. If living, he is still at large; but there is no corner of the globe where Thompson would not follow him, were he certain that the journey would effect his arrest.