This Was An Acceptable
Addition To Their Stock Of Elk Meat.
The next day Mr. Crooks was
sufficiently recruited in strength to be able to carry his rifle
and pistols, and they made a march of seventeen miles along the
borders of the plain.
Their journey daily became more toilsome, and their sufferings
more severe, as they advanced. Keeping up the channel of a river,
they traversed the rugged summit of the Pilot Knob Mountain,
covered with snow nine inches deep. For several days they
continued, bending their course as much as possible to the east,
over a succession of rocky heights, deep valleys, and rapid
streams. Sometimes their dizzy path lay along the margin of
perpendicular precipices, several hundred feet in height, where a
single false step might precipitate them into the rocky bed of a
torrent which roared below. Not the least part of their weary
task was the fording of the numerous windings and branchings of
the mountain rivers, all boisterous in their currents, and icy
cold.
Hunger was added to their other sufferings, and soon became the
keenest. The small supply of bear and elk meat which they had
been able to carry, in addition to their previous burdens, served
but for a short time. In their anxiety to struggle forward, they
had but little time to hunt, and scarce any game in their path.
For three days they had nothing to eat but a small duck, and a
few poor trout. They occasionally saw numbers of the antelopes,
and tried every art to get within shot; but the timid animals
were more than commonly wild, and after tantalizing the hungry
hunters for a time, bounded away beyond all chance of pursuit. At
length they were fortunate enough to kill one: it was extremely
meagre, and yielded but a scanty supply; but on this they
subsisted for several days.
On the 11th, they encamped on a small stream, near the foot of
the Spanish River Mountain. Here they met with traces of that
wayward and solitary being, M'Lellan, who was still keeping on
ahead of them through these lonely mountains. He had encamped the
night before on this stream; they found the embers of the fire by
which he had slept, and the remains of a miserable wolf on which
he had supped. It was evident he had suffered, like themselves,
the pangs of hunger, though he had fared better at this
encampment; for they had not a mouthful to eat.
The next day, they rose hungry and alert, and set out with the
dawn to climb the mountain, which was steep and difficult. Traces
of volcanic eruptions were to be seen in various directions.
There was a species of clay also to be met with, out of which the
Indians manufactured pots and jars, and dishes. It is very fine
and light, of an agreeable smell, and of a brown color spotted
with yellow, and dissolves readily in the mouth. Vessels
manufactured of it are said to impart a pleasant smell and flavor
to any liquids. These mountains abound also with mineral earths,
or chalks of various colors; especially two kinds of ochre, one a
pale, the other a bright red, like vermilion; much used by the
Indians, in painting their bodies.
About noon, the travellers reached the "drains" and brooks that
formed the head waters of the river, and later in the day,
descended to where the main body, a shallow stream, about a
hundred and sixty yards wide, poured through its mountain valley.
Here the poor famishing wanderers had expected to find buffalo in
abundance, and had fed their hungry hopes during their scrambling
toll, with the thoughts of roasted ribs, juicy humps, and broiled
marrow bones. To their great disappointment, the river banks were
deserted - a few old tracks showed where a herd of bulls had some
time before passed along, but not a horn nor hump was to be seen
in the sterile landscape. A few antelopes looked down upon them
from the brow of a crag, but flitted away out of sight at the
least approach of the hunter.
In the most starving mood they kept for several miles further
along the bank of the river, seeking for "beaver signs." Finding
some, they encamped in the vicinity, and Ben Jones immediately
proceeded to set the trap. They had scarce come to a halt, when
they perceived a large smoke at some distance to the southwest.
The sight was hailed with joy, for they trusted it might rise
from some Indian camp, where they could procure something to eat,
and the dread of starvation had now overcome even the terror of
the Blackfeet. Le Clerc, one of the Canadians, was instantly
despatched by Mr. Stuart, to reconnoitre; and the travellers sat
up till a late hour, watching and listening for his return,
hoping he might bring them food. Midnight arrived, but Le Clerc
did not make his appearance, and they laid down once more
supperless to sleep, comforting themselves with the hopes that
their old beaver trap might furnish them with a breakfast.
At daybreak they hastened with famished eagerness to the trap.
They found in it the forepaw of a beaver, the sight of which
tantalized their hunger, and added to their dejection. They
resumed their journey with flagging spirits, but had not gone far
when they perceived Le Clerc approaching at a distance. They
hastened to meet him, in hopes of tidings of good cheer. He had
none to give them; but news of that strange wanderer, M'Lellan.
The smoke had risen from his encampment which took fire while he
was at a little distance from it fishing. Le Clerc found him in
forlorn condition. His fishing had been unsuccessful. During
twelve days that he had been wandering alone through these savage
mountains, he had found scarce anything to eat. He had been ill,
wayworn, sick at heart, still he had kept forward; but now his
strength and his stubbornness were exhausted.
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