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An Unexpected Meeting
An Unexpected Meeting.—Navigation in a Skin
Canoe.-Strange Fears of Suffering Men.-Hardships of Mr. Crooks and
His Comrades.—Tidings of M'Lellan.—A Retrograde March.—A Willow
Raft.—Extreme Suffering of Some of the Party—Illness of Mr.
Crooks.—Impatience of Some of the Men.—Necessity of Leaving the
Laggards Behind.
THE wanderers had now accomplished four hundred and
seventy-two miles of their dreary journey since leaving the Caldron
Linn; how much further they had yet to travel, and what hardships to
encounter, no one knew.
On the morning of the 6th of December, they left their dismal
encampment, but had scarcely begun their march when, to their
surprise, they beheld a party of white men coming up along the
opposite bank of the river. As they drew nearer, they were
recognized for Mr. Crooks and his companions. When they came
opposite, and could make themselves heard across the murmuring of
the river, their first cry was for food; in fact, they were almost
starved. Mr. Hunt immediately returned to the camp, and had a kind
of canoe made out of the skin of the horse killed on the preceding
night. This was done after the Indian fashion, by drawing up the
edges of the skin with thongs, and keeping them distended by sticks
or thwart pieces. In this frail bark, Sardepie, one of the
Canadians, carried over a portion of the flesh of the horse to the
famishing party on the opposite side of the river, and brought back
with him Mr. Crooks and the Canadian, Le Clerc. The forlorn and
wasted looks and starving condition of these two men struck dismay
to the hearts of Mr. Hunt's followers. They had been accustomed to
each other's appearance, and to the gradual operation of hunger and
hardship upon their frames, but the change in the looks of these
men, since last they parted, was a type of the famine and desolation
of the land; and they now began to indulge the horrible presentiment
that they would all starve together, or be reduced to the direful
alternative of casting lots!
When Mr. Crooks had appeased his hunger, he gave Mr. Hunt some
account of his wayfaring. On the side of the river along which he
had kept, he had met with but few Indians, and those were too
miserably poor to yield much assistance. For the first eighteen days
after leaving the Caldron Linn, he and his men had been confined to
half a meal in twenty-four hours; for three days following, they had
subsisted on a single beaver, a few wild cherries, and the soles of
old moccasins; and for the last six days their only animal food had
been the carcass of a dog. They had been three days' journey further
down the river than Mr. Hunt, always keeping as near to its banks as
possible, and frequently climbing over sharp and rocky ridges that
projected into the stream. At length they had arrived to where the
mountains increased in height, and came closer to the river, with
perpendicular precipices, which rendered it impossible to keep along
the stream. The river here rushed with incredible velocity through a
defile not more than thirty yards wide, where cascades and rapids
succeeded each other almost without intermission. Even had the
opposite banks, therefore, been such as to permit a continuance of
their journey, it would have been madness to attempt to pass the
tumultuous current either on rafts or otherwise. Still bent,
however, on pushing forward, they attempted to climb the opposing
mountains; and struggled on through the snow for half a day until,
coming to where they could command a prospect, they found that they
were not half way to the summit, and that mountain upon mountain lay
piled beyond them, in wintry desolation. Famished and emaciated as
they were, to continue forward would be to perish; their only chance
seemed to be to regain the river, and retrace their steps up its
banks. It was in this forlorn and retrograde march that they had met
Mr. Hunt and his party.
Mr. Crooks also gave information of some others of their fellow
adventurers. He had spoken several days previously with Mr. Reed and
Mr. M'Kenzie, who with their men were on the opposite side of the
river, where it was impossible to get over to them. They informed
him that Mr. M'Lellan had struck across from the little river above
the mountains, in the hope of falling in with some of the tribe of
Flatheads, who inhabit the western skirts of the Rocky range. As the
companions of Reed and M'Kenzie were picked men, and had found
provisions more abundant on their side of the river, they were in
better condition, and more fitted to contend with the difficulties
of the country, than those of Mr. Crooks, and when he lost sight of
them, were pushing onward, down the course of the river.
Mr. Hunt took a night to revolve over his critical situation, and to
determine what was to be done. No time was to be lost; he had twenty
men and more in his own party, to provide for, and Mr. Crooks and
his men to relieve. To linger would be to starve. The idea of
retracing his steps was intolerable, and, notwithstanding all the
discouraging accounts of the ruggedness of the mountains lower down
the river, he would have been disposed to attempt them, but the
depth of the snow with which they were covered deterred him; having
already experienced the impossibility of forcing his way against
such an impediment.
The only alternative, therefore, appeared to be, return and seek the
Indian bands scattered along the small rivers above the mountains.
Perhaps, from some of these he might procure horses enough to
support him until he could reach the Columbia; for he still
cherished the hope of arriving at that river in the course of the
winter, though he was apprehensive that few of Mr. Crooks's party
would be sufficiently strong to follow him. Even in adopting this
course, he had to make up his mind to the certainty of several days
of famine at the outset, for it would take that time to reach the
last Indian lodges from which he had parted, and until they should
arrive there, his people would have nothing to subsist upon but haws
and wild berries, excepting one miserable horse, which was little
better than skin and bone.
After a night of sleepless cogitation, Mr. Hunt announced to his men
the dreary alternative he had adopted, and preparations were made to
take Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc across the river, with the remainder of
the meat, as the other party were to keep up along the opposite
bank. The skin canoe had unfortunately been lost in the night; a
raft was constructed therefore, after the manner of the natives, of
bundles of willows, but it could not be floated across the impetuous
current. The men were directed, in consequence, to keep on along the
river by themselves, while Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc would proceed
with Mr. Hunt. They all, then, took up their retrograde march with
drooping spirits.
In a little while, it was found that Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc were so
feeble as to walk with difficulty, so that Mr. Hunt was obliged to
retard his pace, that they might keep up with him. His men grew
impatient at the delay. They murmured that they had a long and
desolate region to traverse, before they could arrive at the point
where they might expect to find horses; that it was impossible for
Crooks and Le Clerc, in their feeble condition, to get over it; that
to remain with them would only be to starve in their company. They
importuned Mr. Hunt, therefore, to leave these unfortunate men to
their fate, and think only of the safety of himself and his party.
Finding him not to be moved either by entreaties or their clamors,
they began to proceed without him, singly and in parties. Among
those who thus went off was Pierre Dorion, the interpreter. Pierre
owned the only remaining horse; which was now a mere skeleton. Mr.
Hunt had suggested, in their present extremity, that it should be
killed for food; to which the half-breed flatly refused his assent,
and cudgeling the miserable animal forward, pushed on sullenly, with
the air of a man doggedly determined to quarrel for his right. In
this way Mr. Hunt saw his men, one after another, break away, until
but five remained to bear him company.
On the following morning another raft was made, on which Mr. Crooks
and Le Clerc again attempted to ferry themselves across the river,
but after repeated trials had to give up in despair. This caused
additional delay; after which they continued to crawl forward at a
snail's pace. Some of the men who had remained with Mr. Hunt now
became impatient of these incumbrances, and urged him clamorously to
push forward, crying out that they should all starve. The night
which succeeded was intensely cold, so that one of the men was
severely frost-bitten. In the course of the night, Mr. Crooks was
taken ill, and in the morning was still more incompetent to travel.
Their situation was now desperate, for their stock of provisions was
reduced to three beaver skins. Mr. Hunt, therefore, resolved to push
on, overtake his people, and insist upon having the horse of Pierre
Dorion sacrificed for the relief of all hands. Accordingly, he left
two of his men to help Crooks and Le Clerc on their way, giving them
two of the beaver skins for their support; the remaining skin he
retained, as provision for himself and the three other men who
struck forward with him.
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Astoria; Or Anecdotes Of An Enterprise Beyond The
Rocky Mountains
Astoria |