river, opposite to the camp, and, having attracted their attention by
a discharge of rifles, ascertained to their joy that they were some of
their own people. From these men Captain Bonneville learned that the
whole party which he had left in the preceding month of December were
encamped on Blackfoot River, a tributary of Snake River, not very far
above the Portneuf. Thither he proceeded with all possible dispatch,
and in a little while had the pleasure of finding himself once more
surrounded by his people, who greeted his return among them in the
heartiest manner; for his long-protracted absence had convinced them
that he and his three companions had been cut off by some hostile tribe.
The party had suffered much during his absence. They had been pinched by
famine and almost starved, and had been forced to repair to the caches
at Salmon River. Here they fell in with the Blackfeet bands, and
considered themselves fortunate in being able to retreat from the
dangerous neighborhood without sustaining any loss.
Being thus reunited, a general treat from Captain Bonneville to his
men was a matter of course. Two days, therefore, were given up to such
feasting and merriment as their means and situation afforded. What was
wanting in good cheer was made up in good will; the free trappers in
particular, distinguished themselves on the occasion, and the saturnalia
was enjoyed with a hearty holiday spirit, that smacked of the game
flavor of the wilderness.
37.
Departure for the rendezvous--A war party of Blackfeet--A
mock bustle--Sham fires at night--Warlike precautions--
Dangers of a night attack--A panic among horses--Cautious
march--The Beer Springs--A mock carousel--Skirmishing with
buffaloes--A buffalo bait--Arrival at the rendezvous--
Meeting of various bands
AFTER THE TWO DAYS of festive indulgence, Captain Bonneville broke
up the encampment, and set out with his motley crew of hired and free
trappers, half-breeds, Indians, and squaws, for the main rendezvous in
Bear River valley. Directing his course up the Blackfoot River, he soon
reached the hills among which it takes its rise. Here, while on the
march, he descried from the brow of a hill, a war party of about
sixty Blackfeet, on the plain immediately below him. His situation was
perilous; for the greater part of his people were dispersed in various
directions. Still, to betray hesitation or fear would be to discover his
actual weakness, and to invite attack. He assumed, instantly, therefore,
a belligerent tone; ordered the squaws to lead the horses to a small
grove of ashen trees, and unload and tie them; and caused a great bustle
to be made by his scanty handful; the leaders riding hither and thither,
and vociferating with all their might, as if a numerous force was
getting under way for an attack.
To keep up the deception as to his force, he ordered, at night, a number
of extra fires to be made in his camp, and kept up a vigilant watch. His
men were all directed to keep themselves prepared for instant action. In
such cases the experienced trapper sleeps in his clothes, with his rifle
beside him, the shot-belt and powder-flask on the stock: so that, in
case of alarm, he can lay his hand upon the whole of his equipment at
once, and start up, completely armed.
Captain Bonneville was also especially careful to secure the horses,
and set a vigilant guard upon them; for there lies the great object and
principal danger of a night attack. The grand move of the lurking savage
is to cause a panic among the horses. In such cases one horse frightens
another, until all are alarmed, and struggle to break loose. In camps
where there are great numbers of Indians, with their horses, a night
alarm of the kind is tremendous. The running of the horses that have
broken loose; the snorting, stamping, and rearing of those which remain
fast; the howling of dogs; the yelling of Indians; the scampering of
white men, and red men, with their guns; the overturning of lodges, and
trampling of fires by the horses; the flashes of the fires, lighting up
forms of men and steeds dashing through the gloom, altogether make
up one of the wildest scenes of confusion imaginable. In this way,
sometimes, all the horses of a camp amounting to several hundred will be
frightened off in a single night.
The night passed off without any disturbance; but there was no
likelihood that a war party of Blackfeet, once on the track of a camp
where there was a chance for spoils, would fail to hover round it. The
captain, therefore, continued to maintain the most vigilant precautions;
throwing out scouts in the advance, and on every rising ground.
In the course of the day he arrived at the plain of white clay, already
mentioned, surrounded by the mineral springs, called Beer Springs, by
the trappers. Here the men all halted to have a regale. In a few moments
every spring had its jovial knot of hard drinkers, with tin cup in hand,
indulging in a mock carouse; quaffing, pledging, toasting, bandying
jokes, singing drinking songs, and uttering peals of laughter, until it
seemed as if their imaginations had given potency to the beverage, and
cheated them into a fit of intoxication. Indeed, in the excitement of
the moment, they were loud and extravagant in their commendations of
“the mountain tap”; elevating it above every beverage produced from hops
or malt. It was a singular and fantastic scene; suited to a region
where everything is strange and peculiar:--These groups of trappers, and
hunters, and Indians, with their wild costumes, and wilder countenances;
their boisterous gayety, and reckless air; quaffing, and making merry
round these sparkling fountains; while beside them lay their weapons,
ready to be snatched up for instant service. Painters are fond of
representing banditti at their rude and picturesque carousels; but here
were groups, still more rude and picturesque; and it needed but a sudden
onset of Blackfeet, and a quick transition from a fantastic revel to
a furious melee, to have rendered this picture of a trapper’s life
complete.
The beer frolic, however, passed off without any untoward circumstance;
and, unlike most drinking bouts, left neither headache nor heartache
behind. Captain Bonneville now directed his course up along Bear River;
amusing himself, occasionally, with hunting the buffalo, with which
the country was covered. Sometimes, when he saw a huge bull taking his
repose in a prairie, he would steal along a ravine, until close upon
him; then rouse him from his meditations with a pebble, and take a shot
at him as he started up. Such is the quickness with which this animal
springs upon his legs, that it is not easy to discover the muscular
process by which it is effected. The horse rises first upon his fore
legs; and the domestic cow, upon her hinder limbs; but the buffalo
bounds at once from a couchant to an erect position, with a celerity
that baffles the eye. Though from his bulk, and rolling gait, he does
not appear to run with much swiftness; yet, it takes a stanch horse to
overtake him, when at full speed on level ground; and a buffalo cow is
still fleeter in her motion.
Among the Indians and half-breeds of the party, were several admirable
horsemen and bold hunters; who amused themselves with a grotesque kind
of buffalo bait. Whenever they found a huge bull in the plains, they
prepared for their teasing and barbarous sport. Surrounding him on
horseback, they would discharge their arrows at him in quick succession,
goading him to make an attack; which, with a dexterous movement of the
horse, they would easily avoid. In this way, they hovered round him,
feathering him with arrows, as he reared and plunged about, until he was
bristled all over like a porcupine. When they perceived in him signs
of exhaustion, and he could no longer be provoked to make battle, they
would dismount from their horses, approach him in the rear, and seizing
him by the tail, jerk him from side to side, and drag him backward;
until the frantic animal, gathering fresh strength from fury, would
break from them, and rush, with flashing eyes and a hoarse bellowing,
upon any enemy in sight; but in a little while, his transient excitement
at an end, would pitch headlong on the ground, and expire. The arrows
were then plucked forth, the tongue cut out and preserved as a dainty,
and the carcass left a banquet for the wolves.
Pursuing his course up Bear River, Captain Bonneville arrived, on the
13th of June, at the Little Snake Lake; where he encamped for four or
five days, that he might examine its shores and outlets. The latter, he
found extremely muddy, and so surrounded by swamps and quagmires, that
he was obliged to construct canoes of rushes, with which to explore
them. The mouths of all the streams which fall into this lake from the
west, are marshy and inconsiderable; but on the east side, there is
a beautiful beach, broken, occasionally, by high and isolated bluffs,
which advance upon the lake, and heighten the character of the scenery.
The water is very shallow, but abounds with trout, and other small fish.
Having finished his survey of the lake, Captain Bonneville proceeded on
his journey, until on the banks of the Bear River, some distance higher
up, he came upon the party which he had detached a year before, to
circumambulate the Great Salt Lake, and ascertain its extent, and the
nature of its shores. They had been encamped here about twenty days;
and were greatly rejoiced at meeting once more with their comrades,
from whom they had so long been separated. The first inquiry of Captain
Bonneville was about the result of their journey, and the information
they had procured as to the Great Salt Lake; the object of his intense
curiosity and ambition. The substance of their report will be found in
the following chapter.
38.
Plan of the Salt Lake expedition--Great sandy deserts--
Sufferings from thirst--Ogden’s--River--Trails and smoke of
lurking savages--Thefts at night--A trapper’s revenge--
Alarms of a guilty conscience--A murderous victory--
Californian mountains--Plains along the--Pacific--Arrival
at--Monterey--Account of the place and neighborhood--Lower--
California--Its extent--The Peninsula--Soil--Climate--
Production--Its settlements by the Jesuits--Their sway over
the Indians--Their expulsion--Ruins of a missionary
establishment--Sublime scenery--Upper California Missions--
Their power and policy--Resources of the country--Designs of
foreign nations
IT WAS ON THE 24TH of July, in the preceding year (1833), that the
brigade of forty men set out from Green River valley, to explore the
Great Salt Lake. They were to make the complete circuit of it, trapping
on all the streams which should fall in their way, and to keep journals
and make charts, calculated to impart a knowledge of the lake and the
surrounding country. All the resources of Captain Bonneville had been
tasked to fit out this favorite expedition. The country lying to the
southwest of the mountains, and ranging down to California, was as yet
almost unknown; being out of the buffalo range, it was untraversed
by the trapper, who preferred those parts of the wilderness where
the roaming herds of that species of animal gave him comparatively an
abundant and luxurious life. Still it was said the deer, the elk, and
the bighorn were to be found there, so that, with a little diligence and
economy, there was no danger of lacking food. As a precaution, however,
the party halted on Bear River and hunted for a few days, until they had
laid in a supply of dried buffalo meat and venison; they then passed by
the head waters of the Cassie River, and soon found themselves launched
on an immense sandy desert. Southwardly, on their left, they beheld the
Great Salt Lake, spread out like a sea, but they found no stream running
into it. A desert extended around them, and stretched to the southwest,
as far as the eye could reach, rivalling the deserts of Asia and Africa
in sterility. There was neither tree, nor herbage, nor spring, nor pool,
nor running stream, nothing but parched wastes of sand, where horse and
rider were in danger of perishing.
Their sufferings, at length, became so great that they abandoned
their intended course, and made towards a range of snowy mountains,
brightening in the north, where they hoped to find water. After a time,
they came upon a small stream leading directly towards these mountains.
Having quenched their burning thirst, and refreshed themselves and their
weary horses for a time, they kept along this stream, which gradually
increased in size, being fed by numerous brooks. After approaching the
mountains, it took a sweep toward the southwest, and the travellers
still kept along it, trapping beaver as they went, on the flesh of which
they subsisted for the present, husbanding their dried meat for future
necessities.
The stream on which they had thus fallen is called by some, Mary River,
but is more generally known as Ogden’s River, from Mr. Peter Ogden, an
enterprising and intrepid leader of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who
first explored it. The wild and half-desert region through which the
travellers were passing, is wandered over by hordes of Shoshokoes, or
Root Diggers, the forlorn branch of the Snake tribe. They are a shy
people, prone to keep aloof from the stranger. The travellers frequently
met with their trails, and saw the smoke of their fires rising in
various parts of the vast landscape, so that they knew there were great
numbers in the neighborhood, but scarcely ever were any of them to be
met with.
After a time, they began to have vexatious proofs that, if the
Shoshokoes were quiet by day, they were busy at night. The camp was
dogged by these eavesdroppers; scarce a morning, but various articles
were missing, yet nothing could be seen of the marauders. What
particularly exasperated the hunters, was to have their traps stolen
from the streams. One morning, a trapper of a violent and savage
character, discovering that his traps had been carried off in the night,
took a horrid oath to kill the first Indian he should meet, innocent
or guilty. As he was returning with his comrades to camp, he beheld two
unfortunate Diggers, seated on the river bank, fishing. Advancing upon
them, he levelled his rifle, shot one upon the spot, and flung his
bleeding body into the stream. The other Indian fled and was suffered
to escape. Such is the indifference with which acts of violence are
regarded in the wilderness, and such the immunity an armed ruffian
enjoys beyond the barriers of the laws, that the only punishment this
desperado met with, was a rebuke from the leader of the party. The
trappers now left the scene of this infamous tragedy, and kept on
westward, down the course of the river, which wound along with a range
of mountains on the right hand, and a sandy, but somewhat fertile plain,
on the left. As they proceeded, they beheld columns of smoke rising,
as before, in various directions, which their guilty consciences now
converted into alarm signals, to arouse the country and collect the
scattered bands for vengeance.
After a time, the natives began to make their appearance, and sometimes
in considerable numbers, but always pacific; the trappers, however,
suspected them of deep-laid plans to draw them into ambuscades; to crowd
into and get possession of their camp, and various other crafty and
daring conspiracies, which, it is probable, never entered into the heads
of the poor savages. In fact, they are a simple, timid, inoffensive
race, unpractised in warfare, and scarce provided with any weapons,
excepting for the chase. Their lives are passed in the great sand plains
and along the adjacent rivers; they subsist sometimes on fish, at other
times on roots and the seeds of a plant, called the cat’s-tail. They
are of the same kind of people that Captain Bonneville found upon Snake
River, and whom he found so mild and inoffensive.
The trappers, however, had persuaded themselves that they were making
their way through a hostile country, and that implacable foes hung round
their camp or beset their path, watching for an opportunity to surprise
them. At length, one day they came to the banks of a stream emptying
into Ogden’s River, which they were obliged to ford. Here a great number
of Shoshokoes were posted on the opposite bank. Persuaded they were
there with hostile intent, they advanced upon them, levelled their
rifles, and killed twenty five of them upon the spot. The rest fled to
a short distance, then halted and turned about, howling and whining like
wolves, and uttering the most piteous wailings. The trappers chased them
in every direction; the poor wretches made no defence, but fled with
terror; neither does it appear from the accounts of the boasted victors,
that a weapon had been wielded or a weapon launched by the Indians
throughout the affair. We feel perfectly convinced that the poor savages
had no hostile intention, but had merely gathered together through
motives of curiosity, as others of their tribe had done when Captain
Bonneville and his companions passed along Snake River.
The trappers continued down Ogden’s River, until they ascertained that
it lost itself in a great swampy lake, to which there was no apparent
discharge. They then struck directly westward, across the great chain of
California mountains intervening between these interior plains and the
shores of the Pacific.
For three and twenty days they were entangled among these mountains,
the peaks and ridges of which are in many places covered with perpetual
snow. Their passes and defiles present the wildest scenery, partaking
of the sublime rather than the beautiful, and abounding with frightful
precipices. The sufferings of the travellers among these savage
mountains were extreme: for a part of the time they were nearly starved;
at length, they made their way through them, and came down upon the
plains of New California, a fertile region extending along the coast,
with magnificent forests, verdant savannas, and prairies that looked
like stately parks. Here they found deer and other game in abundance,
and indemnified themselves for past famine. They now turned toward the
south, and passing numerous small bands of natives, posted upon various
streams, arrived at the Spanish village and post of Monterey.
This is a small place, containing about two hundred houses, situated in
latitude 37 north. It has a capacious bay, with indifferent anchorage.
The surrounding country is extremely fertile, especially in the valleys;
the soil is richer, the further you penetrate into the interior, and
the climate is described as a perpetual spring. Indeed, all California,
extending along the Pacific Ocean from latitude 19 30’ to 42 north, is
represented as one of the most fertile and beautiful regions in North
America.
Lower California, in length about seven hundred miles, forms a great
peninsula, which crosses the tropics and terminates in the torrid zone.
It is separated from the mainland by the Gulf of California, sometimes
called the Vermilion Sea; into this gulf empties the Colorado of the
West, the Seeds-ke-dee, or Green River, as it is also sometimes called.
The peninsula is traversed by stern and barren mountains, and has many
sandy plains, where the only sign of vegetation is the cylindrical
cactus growing among the clefts of the rocks. Wherever there is water,
however, and vegetable mould, the ardent nature of the climate quickens
everything into astonishing fertility. There are valleys luxuriant with
the rich and beautiful productions of the tropics. There the sugar-cane
and indigo plant attain a perfection unequalled in any other part of
North America. There flourish the olive, the fig, the date, the
orange, the citron, the pomegranate, and other fruits belonging to the
voluptuous climates of the south; with grapes in abundance, that yield a
generous wine. In the interior are salt plains; silver mines and scanty
veins of gold are said, likewise, to exist; and pearls of a beautiful
water are to be fished upon the coast.
The peninsula of California was settled in 1698, by the Jesuits, who,
certainly, as far as the natives were concerned, have generally proved
the most beneficent of colonists. In the present instance, they gained
and maintained a footing in the country without the aid of military
force, but solely by religious influence. They formed a treaty,
and entered into the most amicable relations with the natives, then
numbering from twenty-five to thirty thousand souls, and gained a hold
upon their affections, and a control over their minds, that effected
a complete change in their condition. They built eleven missionary
establishments in the various valleys of the peninsula, which formed
rallying places for the surrounding savages, where they gathered
together as sheep into the fold, and surrendered themselves and their
consciences into the hands of these spiritual pastors. Nothing, we are
told, could exceed the implicit and affectionate devotion of the Indian
converts to the Jesuit fathers, and the Catholic faith was disseminated
widely through the wilderness. The growing power and influence of the
Jesuits in the New World at length excited the jealousy of the Spanish
government, and they were banished from the colonies. The governor, who
arrived at California to expel them, and to take charge of the country,
expected to find a rich and powerful fraternity, with immense treasures
hoarded in their missions, and an army of Indians ready to defend them.
On the contrary, he beheld a few venerable silver-haired priests coming
humbly forward to meet him, followed by a throng of weeping, but
submissive natives. The heart of the governor, it is said, was so
touched by this unexpected sight, that he shed tears; but he had to
execute his orders. The Jesuits were accompanied to the place of their
embarkation by their simple and affectionate parishioners, who took
leave of them with tears and sobs. Many of the latter abandoned their
hereditary abodes, and wandered off to join their southern brethren,
so that but a remnant remained in the peninsula. The Franciscans
immediately succeeded the Jesuits, and subsequently the Dominicans;
but the latter managed their affairs ill. But two of the missionary
establishments are at present occupied by priests; the rest are all in
ruins, excepting one, which remains a monument of the former power and
prosperity of the order. This is a noble edifice, once the seat of the
chief of the resident Jesuits. It is situated in a beautiful valley,
about half way between the Gulf of California and the broad ocean, the
peninsula being here about sixty miles wide. The edifice is of hewn
stone, one story high, two hundred and ten feet in front, and about
fifty-five feet deep. The walls are six feet thick, and sixteen feet
high, with a vaulted roof of stone, about two feet and a half in
thickness. It is now abandoned and desolate; the beautiful valley is
without an inhabitant--not a human being resides within thirty miles of
the place!
In approaching this deserted mission-house from the south, the traveller
passes over the mountain of San Juan, supposed to be the highest peak
in the Californias. From this lofty eminence, a vast and magnificent
prospect unfolds itself; the great Gulf of California, with the dark
blue sea beyond, studded with islands; and in another direction, the
immense lava plain of San Gabriel. The splendor of the climate gives an
Italian effect to the immense prospect. The sky is of a deep blue color,
and the sunsets are often magnificent beyond description. Such is a
slight and imperfect sketch of this remarkable peninsula.