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CHAPTER 30
Temperature of the climate - Root Diggers on horseback - An Indian guide - Mountain prospects - The Grand Rond - Difficulties on Snake River - A scramble over the Blue Mountains - Sufferings from hunger - Prospect of the Immahah Valley - The exhausted traveller
THE TEMPERATURE of the regions west of the Rocky Mountains is
much milder than in the same latitudes on the Atlantic side; the
upper plains, however, which lie at a distance from the
sea-coast, are subject in winter to considerable vicissitude;
being traversed by lofty "sierras," crowned with perpetual snow,
which often produce flaws and streaks of intense cold This was
experienced by Captain Bonneville and his companions in their
progress westward. At the time when they left the Bannacks Snake
River was frozen hard: as they proceeded, the ice became broken
and floating; it gradually disappeared, and the weather became
warm and pleasant, as they approached a tributary stream called
the Little Wyer; and the soil, which was generally of a watery
clay, with occasional intervals of sand, was soft to the tread of
the horses. After a time, however, the mountains approached and
flanked the river; the snow lay deep in the valleys, and the
current was once more icebound.
Here they were visited by a party of Root Diggers, who were
apparently rising in the world, for they had "horse to ride and
weapon to wear," and were altogether better clad and equipped
than any of the tribe that Captain Bonneville had met with. They
were just from the plain of Boisee River, where they had left a
number of their tribe, all as well provided as themselves; having
guns, horses, and comfortable clothing. All these they obtained
from the Lower Nez Perces, with whom they were in habits [sic] of
frequent traffic. They appeared to have imbibed from that tribe
their noncombative principles, being mild and inoffensive in
their manners. Like them, also, they had something of religious
feelings; for Captain Bonneville observed that, before eating,
they washed their hands, and made a short prayer; which he
understood was their invariable custom. From these Indians, he
obtained a considerable supply of fish, and an excellent and
well-conditioned horse, to replace one which had become too weak
for the journey.
The travellers now moved forward with renovated spirits; the
snow, it is true, lay deeper and deeper as they advanced, but
they trudged on merrily, considering themselves well provided for
the journey, which could not be of much longer duration.
They had intended to proceed up the banks of Gun Creek, a stream
which flows into Snake River from the west; but were assured by
the natives that the route in that direction was impracticable.
The latter advised them to keep along Snake River, where they
would not be impeded by the snow. Taking one of the Diggers for a
guide, they set off along the river, and to their joy soon found
the country free from snow, as had been predicted, so that their
horses once more had the benefit of tolerable pasturage. Their
Digger proved an excellent guide, trudging cheerily in the
advance. He made an unsuccessful shot or two at a deer and a
beaver; but at night found a rabbit hole, whence he extracted the
occupant, upon which, with the addition of a fish given him by
the travellers, he made a hearty supper, and retired to rest,
filled with good cheer and good humor.
The next day the travellers came to where the hills closed upon
the river, leaving here and there intervals of undulating meadow
land. The river was sheeted with ice, broken into hills at long
intervals. The Digger kept on ahead of the party, crossing and
recrossing the river in pursuit of game, until, unluckily,
encountering a brother Digger, he stole off with him, without the
ceremony of leave-taking.
Being now left to themselves, they proceeded until they came to
some Indian huts, the inhabitants of which spoke a language
totally different from any they had yet heard. One, however,
understood the Nez Perce language, and through him they made
inquiries as to their route. These Indians were extremely kind
and honest, and furnished them with a small quantity of meat; but
none of them could be induced to act as guides.
Immediately in the route of the travellers lay a high mountain,
which they ascended with some difficulty. The prospect from the
summit was grand but disheartening. Directly before them towered
the loftiest peaks of Immahah, rising far higher than the
elevated ground on which they stood: on the other hand, they were
enabled to scan the course of the river, dashing along through
deep chasms, between rocks and precipices, until lost in a
distant wilderness of mountains, which closed the savage
landscape.
They remained for a long time contemplating, with perplexed and
anxious eye, this wild congregation of mountain barriers, and
seeking to discover some practicable passage. The approach of
evening obliged them to give up the task, and to seek some
camping ground for the night. Moving briskly forward, and
plunging and tossing through a succession of deep snow-drifts,
they at length reached a valley known among trappers as the
"Grand Rond," which they found entirely free from snow.
This is a beautiful and very fertile valley, about twenty miles
long and five or six broad; a bright cold stream called the
Fourche de Glace, or Ice River, runs through it. Its sheltered
situation, embosomed in mountains, renders it good pasturaging
ground in the winter time; when the elk come down to it in great
numbers, driven out of the mountains by the snow. The Indians
then resort to it to hunt. They likewise come to it in the summer
time to dig the camash root, of which it produces immense
quantities. When this plant is in blossom, the whole valley is
tinted by its blue flowers, and looks like the ocean when
overcast by a cloud.
After passing a night in this valley, the travellers in the
morning scaled the neighboring hills, to look out for a more
eligible route than that upon which they had unluckily fallen;
and, after much reconnoitring, determined to make their way once
more to the river, and to travel upon the ice when the banks
should prove impassable.
On the second day after this determination, they were again upon
Snake River, but, contrary to their expectations, it was nearly
free from ice. A narrow riband ran along the shore, and sometimes
there was a kind of bridge across the stream, formed of old ice
and snow. For a short time, they jogged along the bank, with
tolerable facility, but at length came to where the river forced
its way into the heart of the mountains, winding between
tremendous walls of basaltic rock, that rose perpendicularly from
the water's edge, frowning in bleak and gloomy grandeur. Here
difficulties of all kinds beset their path. The snow was from two
to three feet deep, but soft and yielding, so that the horses had
no foothold, but kept plunging forward, straining themselves by
perpetual efforts. Sometimes the crags and promontories forced
them upon the narrow riband of ice that bordered the shore;
sometimes they had to scramble over vast masses of rock which had
tumbled from the impending precipices; sometimes they had to
cross the stream upon the hazardous bridges of ice and snow,
sinking to the knee at every step; sometimes they had to scale
slippery acclivities, and to pass along narrow cornices, glazed
with ice and sleet, a shouldering wall of rock on one side, a
yawning precipice on the other, where a single false step would
have been fatal. In a lower and less dangerous pass, two of their
horses actually fell into the river; one was saved with much
difficulty, but the boldness of the shore prevented their
rescuing the other, and he was swept away by the rapid current.
In this way they struggled forward, manfully braving difficulties
and dangers, until they came to where the bed of the river was
narrowed to a mere chasm, with perpendicular walls of rock that
defied all further progress. Turning their faces now to the
mountain, they endeavored to cross directly over it; but, after
clambering nearly to the summit, found their path closed by
insurmountable barriers.
Nothing now remained but to retrace their steps. To descend a
cragged mountain, however, was more difficult and dangerous than
to ascend it. They had to lower themselves cautiously and slowly,
from steep to steep; and, while they managed with difficulty to
maintain their own footing, to aid their horses by holding on
firmly to the rope halters, as the poor animals stumbled among
slippery rocks, or slid down icy declivities. Thus, after a day
of intense cold, and severe and incessant toil, amidst the
wildest of scenery, they managed, about nightfall, to reach the
camping ground, from which they had started in the morning, and
for the first time in the course of their rugged and perilous
expedition, felt their hearts quailing under their multiplied
hardships.
A hearty supper, a tranquillizing pipe, and a sound night's
sleep, put them all in better mood, and in the morning they held
a consultation as to their future movements. About four miles
behind, they had remarked a small ridge of mountains approaching
closely to the river. It was determined to scale this ridge, and
seek a passage into the valley which must lie beyond. Should they
fail in this, but one alternative remained. To kill their horses,
dry the flesh for provisions, make boats of the hides, and, in
these, commit themselves to the stream--a measure hazardous in
the extreme.
A short march brought them to the foot of the mountain, but its
steep and cragged sides almost discouraged hope. The only chance
of scaling it was by broken masses of rock, piled one upon
another, which formed a succession of crags, reaching nearly to
the summit. Up these they wrought their way with indescribable
difficulty and peril, in a zigzag course, climbing from rock to
rock, and helping their horses up after them; which scrambled
among the crags like mountain goats; now and then dislodging some
huge stone, which, the moment they had left it, would roll down
the mountain, crashing and rebounding with terrific din. It was
some time after dark before they reached a kind of platform on
the summit of the mountain, where they could venture to encamp.
The winds, which swept this naked height, had whirled all the
snow into the valley beneath, so that the horses found tolerable
winter pasturage on the dry grass which remained exposed. The
travellers, though hungry in the extreme, were fain to make a
very frugal supper; for they saw their journey was likely to be
prolonged much beyond the anticipated term.
In fact, on the following day they discerned that, although
already at a great elevation, they were only as yet upon the
shoulder of the mountain. It proved to be a great sierra, or
ridge, of immense height, running parallel to the course of the
river, swelling by degrees to lofty peaks, but the outline gashed
by deep and precipitous ravines. This, in fact, was a part of the
chain of Blue Mountains, in which the first adventurers to
Astoria experienced such hardships.
We will not pretend to accompany the travellers step by step in
this tremendous mountain scramble, into which they had
unconsciously betrayed themselves. Day after day did their toil
continue; peak after peak had they to traverse, struggling with
difficulties and hardships known only to the mountain trapper. As
their course lay north, they had to ascend the southern faces of
the heights, where the sun had melted the snow, so as to render
the ascent wet and slippery, and to keep both men and horses
continually on the strain; while on the northern sides, the snow
lay in such heavy masses, that it was necessary to beat a track
down which the horses might be led. Every now and then, also,
their way was impeded by tall and numerous pines, some of which
had fallen, and lay in every direction.
In the midst of these toils and hardships, their provisions gave
out. For three days they were without food, and so reduced that
they could scarcely drag themselves along. At length one of the
mules, being about to give out from fatigue and famine, they
hastened to dispatch him. Husbanding this miserable supply, they
dried the flesh, and for three days subsisted upon the nutriment
extracted from the bones. As to the meat, it was packed and
preserved as long as they could do without it, not knowing how
long they might remain bewildered in these desolate regions.
One of the men was now dispatched ahead, to reconnoitre the
country, and to discover, if possible, some more practicable
route. In the meantime, the rest of the party moved on slowly.
After a lapse of three days, the scout rejoined them. He informed
them that Snake River ran immediately below the sierra or
mountainous ridge, upon which they were travelling; that it was
free from precipices, and was at no great distance from them in a
direct line; but that it would be impossible for them to reach it
without making a weary circuit. Their only course would be to
cross the mountain ridge to the left.
Up this mountain, therefore, the weary travellers directed their
steps; and the ascent, in their present weak and exhausted state,
was one of the severest parts of this most painful journey. For
two days were they toiling slowly from cliff to cliff, beating at
every step a path through the snow for their faltering horses. At
length they reached the summit, where the snow was blown off; but
in descending on the opposite side, they were often plunging
through deep drifts, piled in the hollows and ravines.
Their provisions were now exhausted, and they and their horses
almost ready to give out with fatigue and hunger; when one
afternoon, just as the sun was sinking behind a blue line of
distant mountain, they came to the brow of a height from which
they beheld the smooth valley of the Immahah stretched out in
smiling verdure below them.
The sight inspired almost a frenzy of delight. Roused to new
ardor, they forgot, for a time, their fatigues, and hurried down
the mountain, dragging their jaded horses after them, and
sometimes compelling them to slide a distance of thirty or forty
feet at a time. At length they reached the banks of the Immahah.
The young grass was just beginning to sprout, and the whole
valley wore an aspect of softness, verdure, and repose,
heightened by the contrast of the frightful region from which
they had just descended. To add to their joy, they observed
Indian trails along the margin of the stream, and other signs,
which gave them reason to believe that there was an encampment of
the Lower Nez Perces in the neighborhood, as it was within the
accustomed range of that pacific and hospitable tribe.
The prospect of a supply of food stimulated them to new exertion,
and they continued on as fast as the enfeebled state of
themselves and their steeds would permit. At length, one of the
men, more exhausted than the rest, threw himself upon the grass,
and declared he could go no further. It was in vain to attempt to
rouse him; his spirit had given out, and his replies only showed
the dogged apathy of despair. His companions, therefore, encamped
on the spot, kindled a blazing fire, and searched about for roots
with which to strengthen and revive him. They all then made a
starveling repast; but gathering round the fire, talked over past
dangers and troubles, soothed themselves with the persuasion that
all were now at an end, and went to sleep with the comforting
hope that the morrow would bring them into plentiful quarters.
Content of CHAPTER 30 [Washington Irving's book: The Adventures of Captain Bonneville]
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