Jim, The Half-Breed Was Indian By Nature -
Idle, Silent, Treacherous, But A Crafty Hunter.
William
deserves special mention, not from any idiosyncrasy of the
man, but because he was concerned soon after he joined us in
the most disastrous of my adventures throughout the
expedition.
To look at, William Nelson might have sat for the portrait of
Leatherstocking. He was a tall gaunt man who had spent his
youth bringing rafts of timber down the Wabash river, from
Fort Wayne to Maumee, in Ohio. For the last six years (he
was three-and-thirty) he had been trapping musk rats and
beaver, and dealing in pelts generally. At the time of our
meeting he was engaged to a Miss Mary something - the
daughter of an English immigrant, who would not consent to
the marriage until William was better off. He was now bound
for California, where he hoped to make the required fortune.
The poor fellow was very sentimental about his Mary; but,
despite his weatherbeaten face, hardy-looking frame, and his
'longue carabine,' he was scarcely the hero which, no doubt,
Miss Mary took him for.
Yes, the novelty soon wore off. We had necessaries enough to
last to California. We also had enough unnecessaries to
bring us to grief in a couple of weeks. Our wagons were
loaded to the roof. And seeing there was no road nor so much
as a track, that there were frequent swamps and small rivers
to be crossed, that our Comanche mules were wilder than the
Indians who had owned them, it may easily be believed that
our rate of progress did not average more than six or seven
miles a day; sometimes it took from dawn to dusk to cross a
stream by ferrying our packages, and emptied wagons, on such
rafts as could be extemporised. Before the end of a
fortnight, both wagons were shattered, wheels smashed, and
axles irreparable. The men, who were as refractory as the
other animals, helped themselves to provisions, tobacco and
whisky, at their own sweet will, and treated our
remonstrances with resentment and contempt.
Heroic measures were exigent. The wagons were broken up and
converted into pack saddles. Both tents, masses of
provisions, 100 lbs. of lead for bullets, kegs of powder,
warm clothing, mackintoshes, waterproof sheeting, tarpaulins,
medicine chest, and bags of sugar, were flung aside to waste
their sweetness on the desert soil. Not one of us had ever
packed a saddle before; and certainly not one of the mules
had ever carried, or to all appearances, ever meant to carry,
a pack. It was a fight between man and beast every day -
twice a day indeed, for we halted to rest and feed, and had
to unpack and repack our remaining impedimenta in payment for
the indulgence.
Let me cite a page from my diary. It is a fair specimen of
scores of similar entries.
'JUNE 24TH. - My morning watch. Up at 1 A.M. Roused the men
at 3.30.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 82 of 208
Words from 41509 to 42010
of 106633
