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.
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