'If we would follow the trail with him, he'd go right slick
in for her anyhow. If his rifle didn't shoot plum, he'd a
bowie as 'ud rise her hide, and no mistake. He'd be darn'd
if he didn't make meat of that bar in the morning.'
CHAPTER XXV
WE were now steering by compass. Our course was nearly
north-west. This we kept, as well as the formation of the
country and the watercourses would permit. After striking
the great Shoshone, or Snake River, which eventually becomes
the Columbia, we had to follow its banks in a southerly
direction. These are often supported by basaltic columns
several hundred feet in height. Where that was the case,
though close to water, we suffered most from want of it. And
cold as were the nights - it was the middle of September -
the sun was intensely hot. Every day, every mile, we were
hoping for a change - not merely for access to the water, but
that we might again pursue our westerly course. The scenery
was sometimes very striking. The river hereabouts varies
from one hundred to nearly three hundred yards in width;
sometimes rushing through narrow gorges, sometimes descending
in continuous rapids, sometimes spread out in smooth shallow
reaches. It was for one of these that we were in search, for
only at such points was the river passable.
It was night-time when we came to one of the great falls. We
were able here to get at water; and having halted through the
day, on account of the heat, kept on while our animals were
refreshed. We had to ascend the banks again, and wind along
the brink of the precipice. From this the view was
magnificent. The moon shone brightly upon the dancing waves
hundreds of feet below us, and upon the rapids which extended
as far as we could see. The deep shade of the high cliffs
contrasted in its impenetrable darkness with the brilliancy
of the silvery foam. The vast plain which we overlooked,
fading in the soft light, rose gradually into a low range of
distant hills. The incessant roar of the rapids, and the
desert stillness of all else around, though they lulled one's
senses, yet awed one with a feeling of insignificance and
impotence in the presence of such ruthless force, amid such
serene and cold indifference. Unbidden, the consciousness
was there, that for some of us the coming struggle with those
mighty waters was fraught with life or death.
At last we came upon a broad stretch of the river which
seemed to offer the possibilities we sought for. Rather late
in the afternoon we decided to cross here, notwithstanding
William's strong reluctance to make the venture. Part of his
unwillingness was, I knew, due to apprehension, part to his
love of fishing. Ever since we came down upon the Snake
River we had seen quantities of salmon. He persisted in the
belief that they were to be caught with the rod. The day
before, all three of us had waded into the river, and flogged
it patiently for a couple of hours, while heavy fish were
tumbling about above and below us. We caught plenty of
trout, but never pricked a salmon. Here the broad reach was
alive with them, and William begged hard to stop for the
afternoon and pursue the gentle sport. It was not to be.
The tactics were as usual. Samson led the way, holding the
lariat to which the two spare horses were attached. In
crossing streams the mules would always follow the horses.
They were accordingly let loose, and left to do so. William
and I brought up the rear, driving before us any mule that
lagged. My journal records the sequel:
'At about equal distances from each other and the main land
were two small islands. The first of these we reached
without trouble. The second was also gained; but the packs
were wetted, the current being exceedingly rapid. The space
remaining to be forded was at least two hundred yards; and
the stream so strong that I was obliged to turn my mare's
head up it to prevent her being carried off her legs. While
thus resting, William with difficulty, - the water being over
his knees, - sidled up to me. He wanted to know if I still
meant to cross. For all answer, I laughed at him. In truth
I had not the smallest misgiving. Strong as was the current,
the smooth rocky bottom gave a good foothold to the animals;
and, judging by the great width of the river, there was no
reason to suppose that its shallowness would not continue.
'We paused for a few minutes to observe Samson, who was now
within forty or fifty yards of the opposite bank; and, as I
concluded, past all danger. Suddenly, to the astonishment of
both of us, he and his horse and the led animals disappeared
under water; the next instant they were struggling and
swimming for the bank. Tied together as they were, there was
a deal of snorting and plunging; and Samson (with his
habitual ingenuity) had fastened the lariat either to himself
or his saddle; so that he was several times dragged under
before they all got to the bank in safety.
'These events were watched by William with intense anxiety.
With a pitiable look of terror he assured me he could not
swim a yard; it was useless for him to try to cross; he would
turn back, and find his way to Salt Lake City.
'"But," I remonstrated, "if you turn back, you will certainly
starve; everything we possess is over there with the mules;
your blanket, even your rifle, are with the packs.
