P a g e 3 G h o s t T o w n s a n d H i s t o r y o f M o n t a n a N e w s l e t t e r Joe Culbertson “Boy Scout” Joseph Culberston had the lineage of a true frontiersman. His father, Alexander Culberston was a manger for John Jacob Astor’s American Fur Company. Headquartered at Fort Union at the confluence of the Yellowstone and Missouri Rivers, the elder Culberston was instrumental in the construction of Fort Benton in 1833. Alexander Culbertson married a beautiful Blackfoot princess described as a graceful and confident swimmer and excellent horsewoman. They were the 19th century power couple of the Northwest. Joseph Culbertson came on the scene in 1858 and was thoroughly trained by his father and learned the ways of his mother’s people. Young Joe was sent east for a fine education but the wild freedom of the west called him home in 1876 when he became a U.S Army scout shortly after Custer’s defeat at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. He remained an army scout for twenty years. In his later years he lived on the Fort Peck Indian Reservation and reminisced about his life and some hair-raising adventures including a dance at which Joe provided fiddle music… I will never forget as long as I live, on one Christmas day I was called to go and play for a dance with my friend up to the famous N-N Ranch on the Elk Prairie Creek, thirty-five miles from Poplar. The N-N Ranch was the only ranch in that part of the country in those days, and I must say that the cowboys on that ranch were wild and wooly. My best girl and my friend and I started for the ranch at about eight o’clock in the morning. The weather was very cold and the snow was deep. I was driving a fine team hitched to a fine cutter made out of cottonwood. We arrived at the ranch at about seven o’clock in the evening and everything was in full bloom. The boys were all glad to see us. My team was unhitched and cared for. My girl went in to see where all the noble red ladies were. I was invited into the mess house. On the table sat a big bucket of eggnog. One of the boys handed me a cup and said, “Old boy, help yourself, and be happy.” After we all had a few snorts and began to feel good, we started for the dance hall. Some of the boys said to me, “Joe, do you think the ladies would like to put a little hot eggnog under their belts?” I said, “Sure, they would like it better than milk.” The girls all took a few snorts and their Indian blood began to get hot and all ready for a good time. My old friend Dick said to me on the quiet, “Joe, duz you really think we are safe?” I said, “Sure we are.” We then went to the dance hall. When we entered, the dance started. The boys had danced for four or five times and were having the time of their lives. I was playing my favorite piece, “The Devil’s Dream”, when suddenly three or four shots rang out from a 45 Colt. The girls and boys paid not attention to the shooting, but kept on dancing. The door flew open and in rode a wild cowboy mounted on a wild horse. He rode to the center of the floor and fired two or three shots into the wall and said, “Boys, I am Wild Hank, the best rider in Montana. Joe, make yourself at home and we will have the time of our lives tonight!” My old friend Dick, said to me, “Joe, dis is no place for dis old man, and I does not want to make myself at home in dis wild place.” Shortly after this all took place, Hank came back and danced the rest of the night. The dance lasted until sunup in the morning. After breakfast we told the boys
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