Captain Bonneville
endeavored to reassure his men by representing the position of
their encampment, and its capability of defence. He then ordered
the horses to be driven in and picketed, and threw up a rough
breastwork of fallen trunks of trees and the vegetable rubbish of
the wilderness. Within this barrier was maintained a vigilant
watch throughout the night, which passed away without alarm. At
early dawn they scrutinized the surrounding plain, to discover
whether any enemies had been lurking about during the night; not
a foot-print, however, was to be discovered in the coarse gravel
with which the plain was covered.
Hunger now began to cause more uneasiness than the apprehensions
of surrounding enemies. After marching a few miles they encamped
at the foot of a mountain, in hopes of finding buffalo. It was
not until the next day that they discovered a pair of fine bulls
on the edge of the plain, among rocks and ravines. Having now
been two days and a half without a mouthful of food, they took
especial care that these animals should not escape them. While
some of the surest marksmen advanced cautiously with their rifles
into the rough ground, four of the best mounted horsemen took
their stations in the plain, to run the bulls down should they
only be maimed.
The buffalo were wounded and set off in headlong flight. The
half-famished horses were too weak to overtake them on the frozen
ground, but succeeded in driving them on the ice, where they
slipped and fell, and were easily dispatched. The hunters loaded
themselves with beef for present and future supply, and then
returned and encamped at the last nights's fire. Here they
passed the remainder of the day, cooking and eating with a
voracity proportioned to previous starvation, forgetting in the
hearty revel of the moment the certain dangers with which they
were environed.
The cravings of hunger being satisfied, they now began to debate
about their further progress. The men were much disheartened by
the hardships they had already endured. Indeed, two who had been
in the rear guard, taking advantage of their position, had
deserted and returned to the lodges of the Nez Perces. The
prospect ahead was enough to stagger the stoutest heart. They
were in the dead of winter. As far as the eye could reach the
wild landscape was wrapped in snow, which was evidently deepening
as they advanced. Over this they would have to toil, with the
icy wind blowing in their faces: their horses might give out
through want of pasturage, and they themselves must expect
intervals of horrible famine like that they had already
experienced.
With Captain Bonneville, however, perseverance was a matter of
pride; and, having undertaken this enterprise, nothing could turn
him back until it was accomplished: though he declares that, had
he anticipated the difficulties and sufferings which attended it,
he should have flinched from the undertaking.
Onward, therefore, the little band urged their way, keeping along
the course of a stream called John Day's Creek. The cold was so
intense that they had frequently to dismount and travel on foot,
lest they should freeze in their saddles. The days which at this
season are short enough even in the open prairies, were narrowed
to a few hours by the high mountains, which allowed the
travellers but a brief enjoyment of the cheering rays of the sun.
The snow was generally at least twenty inches in depth, and in
many places much more: those who dismounted had to beat their way
with toilsome steps. Eight miles were considered a good day's
journey. The horses were almost famished; for the herbage was
covered by the deep snow, so that they had nothing to subsist
upon but scanty wisps of the dry bunch grass which peered above
the surface, and the small branches and twigs of frozen willows
and wormwood.
In this way they urged their slow and painful course to the south
down John Day's Creek, until it lost itself in a swamp. Here they
encamped upon the ice among stiffened willows, where they were
obliged to beat down and clear away the snow to procure pasturage
for their horses.
Hence they toiled on to Godin River; so called after an Iroquois
hunter in the service of Sublette, who was murdered there by the
Blackfeet. Many of the features of this remote wilderness are
thus named after scenes of violence and bloodshed that occurred
to the early pioneers. It was an act of filial vengeance on the
part of Godin's son Antoine that, as the reader may recollect,
brought on the recent battle at Pierre's Hole.
From Godin's River, Captain Bonneville and his followers came out
upon the plain of the Three Butes, so called from three singular
and isolated hills that rise from the midst. It is a part of the
great desert of Snake River, one of the most remarkable tracts
beyond the mountains. Could they have experienced a respite from
their sufferings and anxieties, the immense landscape spread out
before them was calculated to inspire admiration. Winter has its
beauties and glories as well as summer; and Captain Bonneville
had the soul to appreciate them.
Far away, says he, over the vast plains, and up the steep sides
of the lofty mountains, the snow lay spread in dazzling
whiteness: and whenever the sun emerged in the morning above the
giant peaks, or burst forth from among clouds in his midday
course, mountain and dell, glazed rock and frosted tree, glowed
and sparkled with surpassing lustre. The tall pines seemed
sprinkled with a silver dust, and the willows, studded with
minute icicles reflecting the prismatic rays, brought to mind the
fairy trees conjured up by the caliph's story-teller to adorn his
vale of diamonds.
