At This Critical Juncture, When Famine Stared Them In The Face,
M'Lellan Casting Up His Eyes, Beheld An Ahsahta, Or Bighorn,
Sheltering Itself Under A Shelving Rock On The Side Of The Hill
Above Them.
Being in a more active plight than any of his
comrades, and an excellent marksman, he set off to get within
shot of the animal.
His companions watched his movements with
breathless anxiety, for their lives depended upon his success. He
made a cautious circuit; scrambled up the hill with the utmost
silence, and at length arrived, unperceived, within a proper
distance. Here leveling his rifle he took so sure an aim, that
the bighorn fell dead on the spot; a fortunate circumstance, for,
to pursue it, if merely wounded, would have been impossible in
his emaciated state. The declivity of the hill enabled him to
roll the carcass down to his companions, who were too feeble to
climb the rocks. They fell to work to cut it up; yet exerted a
remarkable self-denial for men in their starving condition, for
they contented themselves for the present with a soup made from
the bones, reserving the flesh for future repasts. This
providential relief gave them strength to pursue their journey,
but they were frequently reduced to almost equal straits, and it
was only the smallness of their party, requiring a small supply
of provisions, that enabled them to get through this desolate
region with their lives.
At length, after twenty-one days of to 11 and suffering, they got
through these mountains, and arrived at a tributary stream of
that branch of the Columbia called Lewis River, of which Snake
River forms the southern fork.
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