Astoria

W >> Washington Irving >> Astoria


Mr. Stuart and his party found the passages of the mountain somewhat
difficult, on account of the snow, which in many places was of
considerable depth, though it was but the 1st of October. They crossed
the summit early in the afternoon, and beheld below them, a plain
about twenty miles wide, bounded on the opposite side by their old
acquaintances, the Pilot Knobs, those towering mountains which had
served Mr. Hunt as landmarks in part of his route of the preceding year.
Through the intermediate plain wandered a river about fifty yards wide,
sometimes gleaming in open day, but oftener running through willowed
banks, which marked its serpentine course.

Those of the party who had been across these mountains, pointed out much
of the bearings of the country to Mr. Stuart. They showed him in what
direction must lie the deserted post called Henry's Fort, where they
had abandoned their horses and embarked in canoes, and they informed him
that the stream which wandered through the plain below them, fell into
Henry River, half way between the fort and the mouth of Mad or Snake
River. The character of all this mountain region was decidedly volcanic;
and to the northwest, between Henry's Fort and the source of the
Missouri, Mr. Stuart observed several very high peaks covered with snow,
from two of which smoke ascended in considerable volumes, apparently
from craters in a state of eruption.

On their way down the mountain, when they had reached the skirts, they
descried M'Lellan at a distance, in the advance, traversing the plain.
Whether he saw them or not, he showed no disposition to rejoin them, but
pursued his sullen and solitary way.

After descending into the plain, they kept on about six miles, until
they reached the little river, which was here about knee deep, and
richly fringed with willow. Here they encamped for the night. At this
encampment the fever of Mr. Crooks increased to such a degree that it
was impossible for him to travel. Some of the men were strenuous for
Mr. Stuart to proceed without him, urging the imminent danger they were
exposed to by delay in that unknown and barren region, infested by the
most treacherous and inveterate foes. They represented that the season
was rapidly advancing; the weather for some days had been extremely
cold; the mountains were already almost impassable from snow, and would
soon present effectual barriers. Their provisions were exhausted; there
was no game to be seen, and they did not dare to use their rifles,
through fear of drawing upon them the Blackfeet.

The picture thus presented was too true to be contradicted, and made a
deep impression on the mind of Mr. Stuart; but the idea of abandoning
a fellow being, and a comrade, in such a forlorn situation, was too
repugnant to his feelings to be admitted for an instant. He represented
to the men that the malady of Mr. Crooks could not be of long duration,
and that, in all probability, he would be able to travel in the course
of a few days. It was with great difficulty, however, that he prevailed
upon them to abide the event.




CHAPTER XLVII.

Ben Jones and a Grizzly Bear.--Rocky Heights--Mountain
Torrents.--Traces of M'Lellan.--Volcanic Remains--Mineral
Earths.--Peculiar Clay for Pottery.--Dismal Plight of
M'Lellan.--Starvation.--Shocking Proposition of a Desperate
Man.--A Broken-Down Bull.--A Ravenous Meal.--Indian Graves--
Hospitable Snakes.-A Forlorn Alliance.

AS the travellers were now in a dangerous neighborhood, where the report
of a rifle might bring the savages upon them, they had to depend upon
their old beaver-trap for subsistence. The little river on which
they were encamped gave many "beaver signs," and Ben Jones set off at
daybreak, along the willowed banks, to find a proper trapping-place. As
he was making his way among the thickets, with his trap on his shoulder
and his rifle in his hand, he heard a crushing sound, and turning,
beheld a huge grizzly bear advancing upon him, with terrific growl. The
sturdy Kentuckian was not to be intimidated by man or monster. Leveling
his rifle, he pulled the trigger. The bear was wounded, but not
mortally: instead, however, of rushing upon his assailant, as is
generally the case with this kind of bear, he retreated into the bushes.
Jones followed him for some distance, but with suitable caution, and
Bruin effected his escape.

As there was every prospect of a detention of some days in this place,
and as the supplies of the beaver-trap were too precarious to be
depended upon, it became absolutely necessary to run some risk of
discovery by hunting in the neighborhood. Ben Jones, therefore, obtained
permission to range with his rifle some distance from the camp, and set
off to beat up the river banks, in defiance of bear or Blackfeet.

He returned in great spirits in the course of a few hours, having come
upon a gang of elk about six miles off, and killed five. This was
joyful news, and the party immediately moved forward to the place where
he had left the carcasses. They were obliged to support Mr. Crooks the
whole distance, for he was unable to walk. Here they remained for two
or three days, feasting heartily on elk meat, and drying as much as they
would be able to carry away with them.

By the 5th of October, some simple prescriptions, together with an
"Indian sweat," had so far benefited Mr. Crooks, that he was enabled
to move about; they therefore set forward slowly, dividing his pack and
accoutrements among them, and made a creeping day's progress of eight
miles south. Their route for the most part lay through swamps caused by
the industrious labors of the beaver; for this little animal had dammed
up numerous small streams, issuing from the Pilot Knob Mountains, so
that the low grounds on their borders were completely inundated. In the
course of their march they killed a grizzly bear, with fat on its flanks
upwards of three inches in thickness. This was an acceptable addition
to their stock of elk meat. The next day Mr. Crooks was sufficiently
recruited in strength to be able to carry his rifle and pistols, and
they made a march of seventeen miles along the borders of the plain.

Their journey daily became more toilsome, and their sufferings more
severe, as they advanced. Keeping up the channel of a river, they
traversed the rugged summit of the Pilot Knob Mountain, covered with
snow nine inches deep. For several days they continued, bending their
course as much as possible to the east, over a succession of rocky
heights, deep valleys, and rapid streams. Sometimes their dizzy path lay
along the margin of perpendicular precipices, several hundred feet in
height, where a single false step might precipitate them into the rocky
bed of a torrent which roared below. Not the least part of their weary
task was the fording of the numerous windings and branchings of the
mountain rivers, all boisterous in their currents, and icy cold.

Hunger was added to their other sufferings, and soon became the keenest.
The small supply of bear and elk meat which they had been able to carry,
in addition to their previous burdens, served but for a short time. In
their anxiety to struggle forward, they had but little time to hunt, and
scarce any game in their path. For three days they had nothing to eat
but a small duck, and a few poor trout. They occasionally saw numbers
of the antelopes, and tried every art to get within shot; but the timid
animals were more than commonly wild, and after tantalizing the hungry
hunters for a time, bounded away beyond all chance of pursuit. At length
they were fortunate enough to kill one: it was extremely meagre, and
yielded but a scanty supply; but on this they subsisted for several
days.

On the 11th, they encamped on a small stream, near the foot of the
Spanish River Mountain. Here they met with traces of that wayward and
solitary being, M'Lellan, who was still keeping on ahead of them through
these lonely mountains. He had encamped the night before on this stream;
they found the embers of the fire by which he had slept, and the remains
of a miserable wolf on which he had supped. It was evident he had
suffered, like themselves, the pangs of hunger, though he had fared
better at this encampment; for they had not a mouthful to eat.

The next day, they rose hungry and alert, and set out with the dawn to
climb the mountain, which was steep and difficult. Traces of volcanic
eruptions were to be seen in various directions. There was a species of
clay also to be met with, out of which the Indians manufactured pots and
jars, and dishes. It is very fine and light, of an agreeable smell,
and of a brown color spotted with yellow, and dissolves readily in the
mouth. Vessels manufactured of it are said to impart a pleasant smell
and flavor to any liquids. These mountains abound also with mineral
earths, or chalks of various colors; especially two kinds of ochre,
one a pale, the other a bright red, like vermilion; much used by the
Indians, in painting their bodies.

About noon, the travellers reached the "drains" and brooks that formed
the head waters of the river, and later in the day, descended to where
the main body, a shallow stream, about a hundred and sixty yards wide,
poured through its mountain valley.

Here the poor famishing wanderers had expected to find buffalo in
abundance, and had fed their hungry hopes during their scrambling toll,
with the thoughts of roasted ribs, juicy humps, and broiled marrow
bones. To their great disappointment, the river banks were deserted--a
few old tracks showed where a herd of bulls had some time before passed
along, but not a horn nor hump was to be seen in the sterile landscape.
A few antelopes looked down upon them from the brow of a crag, but
flitted away out of sight at the least approach of the hunter.

In the most starving mood they kept for several miles further along
the bank of the river, seeking for "beaver signs." Finding some, they
encamped in the vicinity, and Ben Jones immediately proceeded to set the
trap. They had scarce come to a halt, when they perceived a large smoke
at some distance to the southwest. The sight was hailed with joy, for
they trusted it might rise from some Indian camp, where they could
procure something to eat, and the dread of starvation had now overcome
even the terror of the Blackfeet. Le Clerc, one of the Canadians, was
instantly despatched by Mr. Stuart, to reconnoitre; and the travellers
sat up till a late hour, watching and listening for his return, hoping
he might bring them food. Midnight arrived, but Le Clerc did not make
his appearance, and they laid down once more supperless to sleep,
comforting themselves with the hopes that their old beaver trap might
furnish them with a breakfast.

At daybreak they hastened with famished eagerness to the trap. They
found in it the forepaw of a beaver, the sight of which tantalized their
hunger, and added to their dejection. They resumed their journey with
flagging spirits, but had not gone far when they perceived Le Clerc
approaching at a distance. They hastened to meet him, in hopes of
tidings of good cheer. He had none to give them; but news of that
strange wanderer, M'Lellan. The smoke had risen from his encampment
which took fire while he was at a little distance from it fishing. Le
Clerc found him in forlorn condition. His fishing had been unsuccessful.
During twelve days that he had been wandering alone through these
savage mountains, he had found scarce anything to eat. He had been ill,
wayworn, sick at heart, still he had kept forward; but now his strength
and his stubbornness were exhausted. He expressed his satisfaction at
hearing that Mr. Stuart and his party were near, and said he would wait
at his camp for their arrival, in hopes they would give him something to
eat, for without food he declared he should not be able to proceed much
further.

When the party reached the place, they found the poor fellow lying on
a parcel of withered grass, wasted to a perfect skeleton, and so feeble
that he could scarce raise his head or speak. The presence of his old
comrades seemed to revive him, but they had no food to give him,
for they themselves were almost starving. They urged him to rise and
accompany them, but he shook his head. It was all in vain, he said;
there was no prospect of their getting speedy relief, and without it
he should perish by the way; he might as well, therefore, stay and die
where he was. At length, after much persuasion, they got him upon his
legs; his rifle and other effects were shared among them, and he was
cheered and aided forward. In this way they proceeded for seventeen
miles, over a level plain of sand, until seeing a few antelopes in the
distance, they encamped on the margin of a small stream. All now that
were capable of the exertion, turned out to hunt for a meal. Their
efforts were fruitless, and after dark they returned to their camp,
famished almost to desperation.

As they were preparing for the third time to lay down to sleep without
a mouthful to eat, Le Clerc, one of the Canadians, gaunt and wild with
hunger, approached Mr. Stuart with his gun in his hand. "It was all in
vain," he said, "to attempt to proceed any further without food. They
had a barren plain before them, three or four days' journey in extent,
on which nothing was to be procured. They must all perish before they
could get to the end of it. It was better, therefore, that one should
die to save the rest." He proposed, therefore, that they should
cast lots; adding, as an inducement for Mr. Stuart to assent to the
proposition, that he, as leader of the party, should be exempted.

Mr. Stuart shuddered at the horrible proposition, and endeavored to
reason with the man, but his words were unavailing. At length, snatching
up his rifle, he threatened to shoot him on the spot if he persisted.
The famished wretch dropped on his knees, begged pardon in the most
abject terms, and promised never again to offend him with such a
suggestion.

Quiet being restored to the forlorn encampment, each one sought repose.
Mr. Stuart, however, was so exhausted by the agitation of the past
scene, acting upon his emaciated frame, that he could scarce crawl to
his miserable couch; where, notwithstanding his fatigues, he passed
a sleepless night, revolving upon their dreary situation, and the
desperate prospect before them.

Before daylight the next morning, they were up and on their way; they
had nothing to detain them; no breakfast to prepare, and to linger was
to perish. They proceeded, however, but slowly, for all were faint and
weak. Here and there they passed the skulls and bones of buffaloes,
which showed that these animals must have been hunted here during the
past season; the sight of these bones served only to mock their misery.
After travelling about nine miles along the plain, they ascended a range
of hills, and had scarcely gone two miles further, when, to their
great joy, they discovered "an old run-down buffalo bull;" the laggard
probably of some herd that had been hunted and harassed through the
mountains. They now all stretched themselves out to encompass and
make sure of this solitary animal, for their lives depended upon their
success. After considerable trouble and infinite anxiety, they at length
succeeded in killing him. He was instantly flayed and cut up, and so
ravenous was their hunger, that they devoured some of the flesh raw.
The residue they carried to a brook near by, where they encamped, lit a
fire, and began to cook.

Mr. Stuart was fearful that in their famished state they would eat to
excess and injure themselves. He caused a soup to be made of some of
the meat, and that each should take a quantity of it as a prelude to his
supper. This may have had a beneficial effect, for though they sat up
the greater part of the night, cooking and cramming, no one suffered any
inconvenience.

The next morning the feasting was resumed, and about midday, feeling
somewhat recruited and refreshed, they set out on their journey with
renovated spirits, shaping their course towards a mountain, the summit
of which they saw towering in the east, and near to which they expected
to find the head waters of the Missouri.

As they proceeded, they continued to see the skeletons of buffaloes
scattered about the plain in every direction, which showed that there
had been much hunting here by the Indians in the recent season. Further
on they crossed a large Indian trail forming a deep path, about fifteen
days old, which went in a north direction. They concluded it to have
been made by some numerous band of Crows, who had hunted in this country
for the greater part of the summer.

On the following day they forded a stream of considerable magnitude,
with banks clothed with pine trees. Among these they found the traces
of a large Indian camp, which had evidently been the headquarters of a
hunting expedition, from the great quantities of buffalo bones strewed
about the neighborhood. The camp had apparently been abandoned about a
month.

In the centre was a singular lodge one hundred and fifty feet in
circumference, supported by the trunks of twenty trees, about twelve
inches in diameter and forty-four feet long. Across these were laid
branches of pine and willow trees, so as to yield a tolerable shade.
At the west end, immediately opposite to the door, three bodies lay
interred with their feet towards the east. At the head of each was a
branch of red cedar firmly planted in the ground. At the foot was a
large buffalo's skull, painted black. Savage ornaments were suspended
in various parts of the edifice, and a great number of children's
moccasins. From the magnitude of this building, and the time and
labor that must have been expended in erecting it, the bodies which it
contained were probably those of noted warriors and hunters.

The next day, October 17th, they passed two large tributary streams of
the Spanish River. They took their rise in the Wind River Mountains,
which ranged along to the east, stupendously high and rugged, composed
of vast masses of black rock, almost destitute of wood, and covered in
many places with snow. This day they saw a few buffalo bulls, and some
antelopes, but could not kill any; and their stock of provisions began
to grow scanty as well as poor.

On the 18th, after crossing a mountain ridge, and traversing a plain,
they waded one of the branches of Spanish River, and on ascending its
bank, met with about a hundred and thirty Snake Indians. They were
friendly in their demeanor, and conducted them to their encampment,
which was about three miles distant. It consisted of about forty
wigwams, constructed principally of pine branches. The Snakes, like
most of their nation, were very poor; the marauding Crows, in their late
excursion through the country, had picked this unlucky band to the very
bone, carrying off their horses, several of their squaws, and most of
their effects. In spite of their poverty, they were hospitable in the
extreme, and made the hungry strangers welcome to their cabins. A few
trinkets procured from them a supply of buffalo meat, and of leather for
moccasins, of which the party were greatly in need. The most valuable
prize obtained from them, however, was a horse; it was a sorry old
animal in truth, but it was the only one that remained to the poor
fellows, after the fell swoop of the Crows; yet this they were prevailed
upon to part with to their guests for a pistol, an axe, a knife, and a
few other trifling articles.

They had doleful stories to tell of the Crows, who were encamped on a
river at no great distance to the east, and were in such force that they
dared not venture to seek any satisfaction for their outrages, or to
get back a horse or squaw. They endeavored to excite the indignation of
their visitors by accounts of robberies and murders committed on lonely
white hunters and trappers by Crows and Blackfeet. Some of these were
exaggerations of the outrages already mentioned, sustained by some
of the scattered members of Mr. Hunt's expedition; others were in all
probability sheer fabrications, to which the Snakes seem to have been a
little prone. Mr. Stuart assured them that the day was not far distant
when the whites would make their power to be felt throughout that
country, and take signal vengeance on the perpetrators of these
misdeeds. The Snakes expressed great joy at the intelligence, and
offered their services to aid the righteous cause, brightening at the
thoughts of taking the field with such potent allies, and doubtless
anticipating their turn at stealing horses and abducting squaws. Their
offers, of course, were accepted; the calumet of peace was produced, and
the two forlorn powers smoked eternal friendship between themselves, and
vengeance upon their common spoilers, the Crows.




CHAPTER XLVIII.

Spanish River Scenery.--Trail of Crow Indians.--A Snow-
Storm.--A Rousing Fire and a Buffalo Feast.--A Plain of
Salt.--Climbing a Mountain.--Volcanic Summit.--Extinguished
Crater.--Marine Shells.--Encampment on a Prairie.--
Successful Hunting.--Good Cheer.--Romantic Scenery--Rocky
Defile.--Foaming Rapids.--The Fiery Narrows.

BY sunrise on the following morning (October 19th), the travellers
had loaded their old horse with buffalo meat, sufficient for five
days' provisions, and, taking leave of their new allies, the poor, but
hospitable Snakes, set forth in somewhat better spirits, though the
increasing cold of the weather, and the sight of the snowy mountains
which they had yet to traverse, were enough to chill their very hearts.
The country along this branch of the Spanish River, as far as they could
see, was perfectly level, bounded by ranges of lofty mountains, both to
the east and west. They proceeded about three miles to the south, where
they came again upon the large trail of Crow Indians, which they had
crossed four days previously, made, no doubt, by the same marauding band
that had plundered the Snakes; and which, according to the account of
the latter, was now encamped on a stream to the eastward. The trail kept
on to the southeast, and was so well beaten by horse and foot, that they
supposed at least a hundred lodges had passed along it. As it formed,
therefore, a convenient highway, and ran in a proper direction, they
turned into it, and determined to keep along it as far as safety would
permit: as the Crow encampment must be some distance off, and it was
not likely those savages would return upon their steps. They travelled
forward, therefore, all that day, in the track of their dangerous
predecessors, which led them across mountain streams, and long ridges,
and through narrow valleys, all tending generally towards the southeast.
The wind blew coldly from the northeast, with occasional flurries of
snow, which made them encamp early, on the sheltered banks of a brook.
The two Canadians, Vallee and Le Clerc, killed a young buffalo bull in
the evening, which was in good condition, and afforded them a plentiful
supply of fresh beef. They loaded their spits, therefore, and crammed
their camp kettle with meat, and while the wind whistled, and the snow
whirled around them, huddled round a rousing fire, basked in its warmth,
and comforted both soul and body with a hearty and invigorating meal. No
enjoyments have greater zest than these, snatched in the very midst
of difficulty and danger; and it is probable the poor wayworn and
weather-beaten travellers relished these creature comforts the more
highly from the surrounding desolation, and the dangerous proximity of
the Crows.

The snow which had fallen in the night made it late in the morning
before the party loaded their solitary packhorse, and resumed their
march. They had not gone far before the Crow trace which they were
following changed its direction, and bore to the north of east. They had
already begun to feel themselves on dangerous ground in keeping along
it, as they might be descried by some scouts and spies of that race of
Ishmaelites, whose predatory life required them to be constantly on the
alert. On seeing the trace turn so much to the north, therefore, they
abandoned it, and kept on their course to the southeast for eighteen
miles, through a beautifully undulating country, having the main chain
of mountains on the left, and a considerably elevated ridge on the
right. Here the mountain ridge which divides Wind River from the head
waters of the Columbia and Spanish Rivers, ends abruptly, and winding to
the north of east, becomes the dividing barrier between a branch of the
Big Horn and Cheyenne Rivers, and those head waters which flow into the
Missouri below the Sioux country.

The ridge which lay on the right of the travellers having now become
very low, they passed over it, and came into a level plain, about ten
miles in circumference, and incrusted to the depth of a foot or eighteen
inches with salt as white as snow. This is furnished by numerous salt
springs of limpid water, which are continually welling up, overflowing
their borders, and forming beautiful crystallizations. The Indian tribes
of the interior are excessively fond of this salt, and repair to the
valley to collect it, but it is held in distaste by the tribes of the
sea-coast, who will eat nothing that has been cured or seasoned by it.