An Unexpected Meeting.--Navigation in a Skin Canoe.-Strange
Fears of Suffering Men.-Hardships of Mr. Crooks and His
Comrades.--Tidings of M’Lellan.--A Retrograde March.--A Willow
Raft.--Extreme Suffering of Some of the Party--Illness of
Mr. Crooks.--Impatience of Some of the Men.--Necessity of
Leaving the Laggards Behind.
THE wanderers had now accomplished four hundred and seventy-two miles
of their dreary journey since leaving the Caldron Linn; how much further
they had yet to travel, and what hardships to encounter, no one knew.
On the morning of the 6th of December, they left their dismal
encampment, but had scarcely begun their march when, to their surprise,
they beheld a party of white men coming up along the opposite bank of
the river. As they drew nearer, they were recognized for Mr. Crooks and
his companions. When they came opposite, and could make themselves heard
across the murmuring of the river, their first cry was for food; in
fact, they were almost starved. Mr. Hunt immediately returned to the
camp, and had a kind of canoe made out of the skin of the horse killed
on the preceding night. This was done after the Indian fashion, by
drawing up the edges of the skin with thongs, and keeping them distended
by sticks or thwart pieces. In this frail bark, Sardepie, one of the
Canadians, carried over a portion of the flesh of the horse to the
famishing party on the opposite side of the river, and brought back with
him Mr. Crooks and the Canadian, Le Clerc. 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. As the companions of Reed and
M’Kenzie were picked men, and had found provisions more abundant on
their side of the river, they were in better condition, and more fitted
to contend with the difficulties of the country, than those of Mr.
Crooks, and when he lost sight of them, were pushing onward, down the
course of the river.
Mr. Hunt took a night to revolve over his critical situation, and to
determine what was to be done. No time was to be lost; he had twenty men
and more in his own party, to provide for, and Mr. Crooks and his men to
relieve. To linger would be to starve. The idea of retracing his steps
was intolerable, and, notwithstanding all the discouraging accounts of
the ruggedness of the mountains lower down the river, he would have been
disposed to attempt them, but the depth of the snow with which they were
covered deterred him; having already experienced the impossibility of
forcing his way against such an impediment.
The only alternative, therefore, appeared to be, return and seek the
Indian bands scattered along the small rivers above the mountains.
Perhaps, from some of these he might procure horses enough to support
him until he could reach the Columbia; for he still cherished the hope
of arriving at that river in the course of the winter, though he was
apprehensive that few of Mr. Crooks’s party would be sufficiently strong
to follow him. Even in adopting this course, he had to make up his mind
to the certainty of several days of famine at the outset, for it would
take that time to reach the last Indian lodges from which he had parted,
and until they should arrive there, his people would have nothing to
subsist upon but haws and wild berries, excepting one miserable horse,
which was little better than skin and bone.
After a night of sleepless cogitation, Mr. Hunt announced to his men the
dreary alternative he had adopted, and preparations were made to take
Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc across the river, with the remainder of the
meat, as the other party were to keep up along the opposite bank.
The skin canoe had unfortunately been lost in the night; a raft was
constructed therefore, after the manner of the natives, of bundles of
willows, but it could not be floated across the impetuous current.
The men were directed, in consequence, to keep on along the river by
themselves, while Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc would proceed with Mr. Hunt.
They all, then, took up their retrograde march with drooping spirits.
In a little while, it was found that Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc were so
feeble as to walk with difficulty, so that Mr. Hunt was obliged
to retard his pace, that they might keep up with him. His men grew
impatient at the delay. They murmured that they had a long and desolate
region to traverse, before they could arrive at the point where they
might expect to find horses; that it was impossible for Crooks and Le
Clerc, in their feeble condition, to get over it; that to remain with
them would only be to starve in their company. They importuned Mr. Hunt,
therefore, to leave these unfortunate men to their fate, and think only
of the safety of himself and his party. Finding him not to be moved
either by entreaties or their clamors, they began to proceed without
him, singly and in parties. Among those who thus went off was Pierre
Dorion, the interpreter. Pierre owned the only remaining horse; which
was now a mere skeleton. Mr. Hunt had suggested, in their present
extremity, that it should be killed for food; to which the half-breed
flatly refused his assent, and cudgeling the miserable animal forward,
pushed on sullenly, with the air of a man doggedly determined to quarrel
for his right. In this way Mr. Hunt saw his men, one after another,
break away, until but five remained to bear him company.
On the following morning another raft was made, on which Mr. Crooks and
Le Clerc again attempted to ferry themselves across the river, but after
repeated trials had to give up in despair. This caused additional delay;
after which they continued to crawl forward at a snail’s pace. Some of
the men who had remained with Mr. Hunt now became impatient of these
incumbrances, and urged him clamorously to push forward, crying out that
they should all starve. The night which succeeded was intensely cold,
so that one of the men was severely frost-bitten. In the course of
the night, Mr. Crooks was taken ill, and in the morning was still more
incompetent to travel. Their situation was now desperate, for their
stock of provisions was reduced to three beaver skins. Mr. Hunt,
therefore, resolved to push on, overtake his people, and insist upon
having the horse of Pierre Dorion sacrificed for the relief of all
hands. Accordingly, he left two of his men to help Crooks and Le Clerc
on their way, giving them two of the beaver skins for their support; the
remaining skin he retained, as provision for himself and the three other
men who struck forward with him.