thick mists and dark clouds, with which they were enveloped. We pitied
our horses and mules, that were continually sliding and falling, by
which their limbs were strained, and their bodies bruised. To our great
joy, we were not long, before we came upon the ravine of a branch,
that wound its way through the vast masses of crags and mountains.
We were disappointed, however, in our purpose to follow it to the
Helay. Before it mingled with that stream, it ingulfed itself so deep
between the cliffs, that though we heard the dash of the waters in
their narrow bed, we could hardly see them. We were obliged to thread
our way, as we might, along the precipice, that constituted the banks
of the creek. We were often obliged to unpack our mules and horses,
and transport their loads by hand from one precipice to another. We
continued wandering among the mountains in this way, until the 23d. Our
provisions were at this time exhausted, and our horses and {62} mules
so worn out, that they were utterly unable to proceed further. Thus we
were absolutely obliged to lie by two days. During this time, Allen and
myself commenced climbing towards the highest peak of the mountains in
our vicinity. It was night-fall, before we gained it. But from it we
could distinctly trace the winding path of the river in several places;
and what was still more cheering, could see smokes arising from several
Indian camps. To meet even enemies, was more tolerable, than thus
miserably to perish with hunger and cold in the mountains. Our report
on our return animated the despair of our companions. On the morning
of the 25th we resumed our painful efforts to reach the river. On the
28th, to our great joy, we once more found ourselves on its banks. A
party of Indians, encamped there, fled at our approach. But fortunately
they left a little mush prepared from the seeds of grass. Without
scruple we devoured it with appetites truly ravenous. In the morning
we took ten beavers in our traps, and Allen was detached with me to
clear away a path, through which the pack horses might pass. We were
obliged to cross the river twelve times in the course of a single day.
We still discovered the fresh footprints of Indians, who had deserted
their camps, and fled before us. We were continually apprehensive,
that they would fire their arrows upon us, or overwhelm us with rocks,
let loose upon us from the summits of the high cliffs, directly under
which we were obliged to pass. The third day, after we had left our
company, I shot a wild goose in the river. The report of my gun raised
the screams of women and children. Too much alarmed to stop for my
game, I mounted my horse, and rode toward them, with a view to convince
them, or in some way, to show them, that we intended them no harm. We
discovered them ahead of us, climbing the mountains, the men in advance
of the women, and all fleeing at the top of their speed. As soon as
they saw us, they turned, and let fly a few arrows at us, one of which
would have despatched my companion, had he not been infinitely dextrous
in dodging. Hungry and fatigued and by no means in the best humor, my
companion returned {63} them abundance of curses for their arrows. From
words he was proceeding to deeds, and would undoubtedly have shot one
of them, had I not caught his gun, and made him sensible of the madness
of such a deed. It was clearly our wisdom to convince them, that we
had no inclination to injure them. Some of them were clad in robes of
rabbit skins, part of which they shed, in their hurry to clamber over
the rocks.
Finding ourselves unable to overtake them, we returned to their camp,
to discover if they had left any thing that we could eat. At no great
distance from their camp, we observed a mound of fresh earth, in
appearance like one of our coal kilns. Considering it improbable, that
the Indians would be engaged in burning coal, we opened the mound,
and found it to contain a sort of vegetable that had the appearance
of herbage, which seemed to be baking in the ground, to prepare it
for eating. I afterwards ascertained, that it was a vegetable, called
by the Spanish, mascal, (probably maguey.)[57] The Indians prepare
it in this way, so as to make a kind of whiskey of it, tasting like
crab-apple cider. The vegetable grows in great abundance on these
mountains.
Next day we came to the point, where the river discharges its waters
from the mountains on to the plains. We thence returned, and rejoined
our company, that had been making their way onward behind us. March
3d, we trapped along down a small stream, that empties into the Helay
on the south side, having its head in a south west direction. It being
very remarkable for the number of its beavers, we gave it the name of
Beaver river. At this place we collected 200 skins; and on the 10th
continued to descend the Helay, until the 20th, when we turned back
with as much fur, as our beasts could pack. As yet we had experienced
no molestation from the Indians, although they were frequently descried
skulking after us, and gathering up the pieces of meat, we had thrown
away. On the morning of the 20th we were all prepared for an early
start, and my father, by way of precaution, bade us all discharge our
guns at the word of command, and then re-load them afresh, {64} that
we might, in case of emergency, be sure of our fire. We were directed
to form in a line, take aim, and at the word, fire at a tree. We gave
sufficient proofs, that we were no strangers to the rifle, for every
ball had lodged close to the centre of our mark. But the report of
our guns was answered by the yell of more than an hundred savages,
above us on the mountains. We immediately marched out from under the
mountains on to the plains, and beckoned them to come down, by every
demonstration of friendship in our power. Nothing seemed to offer
stronger enticement, than to hold out to them our red cloth. This we
did, but without effect, for they either understood us not, or were
reluctant to try our friendship. Leaving one of our number to watch
their deportment, and to note if they followed us, we resumed our
march. It would have been a great object to us to have been able to
banish their suspicions, and make a treaty with them. But we could
draw from them no demonstrations, but those of fear and surprize. On
the 25th we returned to Beaver river, and dug up the furs that we had
buried, or cashed,[58] as the phrase is, and concluded to ascend it,
trapping towards its head, whence we purposed to cross over to the
Helay above the mountains, where we had suffered so much in crossing.
About six miles up the stream, we stopped to set our traps, three being
selected to remain behind in the camp to dry the skins, my father to
make a pen for the horses, and I to guard them, while they were turned
loose to feed in the grass. We had pitched our camp near the bank of
the river, in a thick grove of timber, extending about a hundred yards
in width. Behind the timber was a narrow plain of about the same width,
and still further on was a high hill, to which I repaired, to watch my
horses, and descry whatever might pass in the distance. Immediately
back of the hill I discovered a small lake, by the noise made by the
ducks and geese in it. Looking more attentively, I remarked what gave
me much more satisfaction, that is to say, three beaver lodges. I
returned, and made my father acquainted with my discovery. The party
despatched to set traps had returned. My father informed {65} them of
my discovery, and told them to set traps in the little lake. As we
passed towards the lake, we observed the horses and mules all crowded
together. At first we concluded that they collected together in this
way, because they had fed enough. We soon discovered, that it was owing
to another cause. I had put down my gun, and stepped into the water,
to prepare a bed for my trap, while the others were busy in preparing
theirs. Instantly the Indians raised a yell, and the quick report of
guns ensued. This noise was almost drowned in the fierce shouts that
followed, succeeded by a shower of arrows falling among us like hail.
As we ran for the camp leaving all the horses in their power, we
saw six Indians stealthily following our trail, as though they were
tracking a deer. They occasionally stopped, raised themselves, and
surveyed every thing around them. We concealed ourselves behind a large
cotton-wood tree, and waited until they came within a hundred yards of
us. Each of us selected a separate Indian for a mark, and our signal
to fire together was to be a whistle. The sign was given, and we fired
together. My mark fell dead, and my companions' severely wounded. The
other Indians seized their dead and wounded companions, and fled.
We now rejoined our company, who were busily occupied in dodging the
arrows, that came in a shower from the summit of the hill, where I had
stationed myself to watch our horses. Discovering that they were too
far from us, to be reached by our bullets, we retreated to the timber,
in hopes to draw them down to the plain. But they had had too ample
proofs of our being marksmen, to think of returning down to our level,
and were satisfied to remain yelling, and letting fly their arrows at
random. We found cause both for regret and joy; regret, that our horses
were in their power, and joy, that their unprovoked attack had been
defeated with loss to themselves, and none to us.
At length they ceased yelling, and disappeared. We, on our part, set
ourselves busily to work to fortify our camp for the night. Meanwhile
our savage enemy devised a plan, which, but for the circumspection
of my father, would have enabled {66} them to destroy us. They
divided themselves into two parties, the one party mounted on horses,
stolen from us, and so arranged as to induce the belief, that they
constituted the whole party. They expected that we would pursue them,
to recover our horses. As soon as we should be drawn out from behind
our fortification, they had a reserve party, on foot, who were to rush
in, between us and our camp, and thus, between two fires, cut us all
off together. It so happened, that I had retired a little distance from
the camp, in the direction of the ambush party on foot. I met them, and
they raised a general yell. My father, supposing me surrounded, ran in
the direction of the yell, to aid me. He, too, came in direct contact
with the foot party, who let fly a shower of arrows at him, from which
nothing but good providence preserved him. He returned the fire with
his gun and pistols, by which he killed two of them, and the report
of which immediately brought his companions to his side. The contest
was a warm one for a few minutes, when the Indians fled. This affair
commenced about three in the afternoon; and the Indians made their
final retreat at five; and the succeeding night passed without further
molestation from them.
In the morning of the 26th, we despatched two of our men to bring
our traps and furs. We had no longer any way of conveying them with
us, for the Indians had taken all our horses. We, however, in the
late contest, had taken four of theirs, left behind in the haste of
their retreat. As our companions were returning to camp with the
traps, which they had taken up to bury, they discovered the Indians,
sliding along insidiously towards our camp. We were all engaged in
eating our breakfast in entire confidence. Our men cried out to us,
that the enemy was close upon us. We sprang to our arms. The Indians
instantly fled to the top of the hill, which we had named Battle-hill.
In a few minutes they were all paraded on the horses and mules stolen
from us. They instantly began to banter us in Spanish to come up to
them. One of our number who could speak Spanish, asked them to what
nation they belonged? They answered, _Eiotaro_. In return, they asked
us, who we were? We answered _Americans_. Hearing this, they stood in
apparent {67} surprise and astonishment for some moments. They then
replied, that they had thought us too brave and too good marksmen, to
be Spaniards; that they were sorry for what they had done, under the
mistake of supposing us Spaniards. They declared themselves ready to
make a treaty with us, provided that we would return the four horses,
we had taken from them, and bring them up the hill, where they promised
us they would restore us our own horses in exchange. We were at once
impressed, that the proposal was a mere trick, to induce us to place
ourselves in their power. We therefore answered their proposal by
another, which was, that they should bring down our horses, and leave
them by the pen, where they had taken them, and we in return would
let their horses loose, and make friendship with them. They treated
our proposal with laughter, which would have convinced us, had we
doubted it before, that their only purpose had been to ensnare us. We
accordingly faced them, and fired upon them, which induced them to
clear themselves most expeditiously.
We proceeded to bury our furs; and having packed our four horses with
provisions and two traps, we commenced our march. Having travelled
about ten miles, we encamped in a thicket without kindling a fire, and
kept a strict guard all night. Next morning we made an early march,
still along the banks of the river. Its banks are still plentifully
timbered with cotton-wood and willow. The bottoms on each side afford
a fine soil for cultivation. From these bottoms the hills rise to an
enormous height, and their summits are covered with perpetual snow. In
these bottoms are great numbers of wild hogs, of a species entirely
different from our domestic swine. They are fox-colored, with their
navel on their back, towards the back part of their bodies. The hoof of
their hind feet has but one dew-claw, and they yield an odor not less
offensive than our polecat. Their figure and head are not unlike our
swine, except that their tail resembles that of a bear. We measured
one of their tusks, of a size so enormous, that I am afraid to commit
my credibility, by giving the dimensions. They remain undisturbed {68}
by man and other animals, whether through fear or on account of their
offensive odor, I am unable to say. That they have no fear of man,
and that they are exceedingly ferocious, I can bear testimony myself.
I have many times been obliged to climb trees to escape their tusks.
We killed a great many, but could never bring ourselves to eat them.
The country presents the aspect of having been once settled at some
remote period of the past. Great quantities of broken pottery are
scattered over the ground, and there are distinct traces of ditches
and stone walls, some of them as high as a man's breast, with very
broad foundations. A species of tree, which I had never seen before,
here arrested my attention.[59] It grows to the height of forty or
fifty feet. The top is cone shaped, and almost without foliage. The
bark resembles that of the prickly pear; and the body is covered with
thorns. I have seen some three feet in diameter at the root, and
throwing up twelve distinct shafts.
On the 29th, we made our last encampment on this river, intending to
return to it no more, except for our furs. We set our two traps for the
last time, and caught a beaver in each.--We skinned the animals, and
prepared the skins to hold water, through fear, that we might find
none on our unknown route through the mountains to the Helay, from
which we judged ourselves distant two hundred miles. Our provisions
were all spoiled. We had nothing to carry with us to satisfy hunger,
but the bodies of the two beavers which we had caught, the night
before. We had nothing to sustain us in this disconsolate march, but
our trust in providence; for we could not but foresee hunger, fatigue
and pain, as the inevitable attendants upon our journey. To increase
the depression of our spirits, our moccasins were worn out, our feet
sore and tender, and the route full of sharp rocks.
On the 31st, we reached the top of the mountain, and fed upon the last
meat of our beavers. We met with no traces of game. What distressed
me most of all was, to perceive my father, who had already passed the
meridian of his days, sinking with fatigue and weakness. On the morning
of the first of April, {69} we commenced descending the mountain, from
the side of which we could discern a plain before us, which, however,
it required two severe days travel to reach. During these two days
we had nothing either to eat or drink. In descending from these icy
mountains, we were surprised to find how warm it was on the plains. On
reaching them I killed an antelope, of which we drank the warm blood;
and however revolting the recital may be, to us it was refreshing,
tasting like fresh milk. The meat we put upon our horses, and travelled
on until twelve o'clock, before we found water.
Here we encamped the remainder of the day, to rest, and refresh
ourselves. The signs of antelopes were abundant, and the appearances
were, that they came to the water to drink; from which we inferred,
that there was no other drinking place in the vicinity. Some of our
hunters went out in pursuit of the antelopes. From the numbers of these
animals, we called the place _Antelope Plain_. The land lies very
handsomely, and is a rich, black soil, with heavily timbered groves in
the vicinity.
On the morning of the 3d, though exceedingly stiff and sore, we resumed
our march, and reaching the opposite side of the plain, encamped at a
spring, that ran from the mountain. Next day we ascended this mountain
to its summit, which we found covered with iron ore. At a distance we
saw a smoke on our course. We were aware that it was the smoke of an
Indian camp, and we pushed on towards it. In the evening we reached
the smoke, but found it deserted of Indians. All this day's march was
along a country abundant in minerals. In several places we saw lead
and copper ore. I picked up a small parcel of ore, which I put in my
shot-pouch, which was proved afterward to be an ore of silver. The
misfortune of this region is, that there is no water near these mineral
hills. We commenced our morning march half dead with thirst, and pushed
on with the eagerness inspired by that tormenting appetite. Late in the
evening we found a little water, for our own drinking, in the bottom
of a rock. Not a drop remained for our four horses, that evidently
showed a thirst no less devouring than ours. {70} Their feet were
all bleeding, and the moment we paused to rest ourselves, the weary
companions of our journey instantly laid down. It went still more to
my heart, to see my two faithful dogs, which had followed me all the
way from my father's house, where there was always _bread enough and to
spare_, looking to me with an expression, which a hunter in the desert
only can understand, as though begging food and water. Full gladly
would I have explained to them, that the sterile wilderness gave me no
means of supplying their wants.
We had scarcely commenced the next morning's march, when, at a little
distance from our course, we saw a smoke. Supposing it an Indian camp,
we immediately concluded to attack it. Adopting their own policy, we
slipped onward in silence and concealment, until we were close by it.
We found the persons women and children. Having no disposition to harm
them, we fired a gun over their heads, which caused them instantly to
fly at the extent of their speed. Hunger knows no laws; and we availed
ourselves of their provision, which proved to be mascal, and grass
seed, of which we made mush. Scanty as this nutriment was, it was
sufficient to sustain life.
We commenced an early march on the 6th, and were obliged to move
slowly, as we were bare-footed, and the mountains rough and steep.
We found them either wholly barren, or only covered with a stinted
growth of pine and cedar, live oak and barbary bushes. On the 8th, our
provisions were entirely exhausted, and so having nothing to eat, we
felt the less need of water. Our destitute and forlorn condition goaded
us on, so that we reached the Helay on the 12th. We immediately began
to search for traces of beavers, where to set our traps, but found
none. On the morning of the 13th, we killed a raven, which we cooked
for seven men. It was unsavory flesh in itself, and would hardly have
afforded a meal for one hungry man. The miserable condition of our
company may be imagined, when seven hungry men, who had not eaten a
full meal for ten days, were all obliged to breakfast on this nauseous
bird. We were all weak and emaciated. But I was young {71} and able to
bear hardships. My heart only ached for my poor father who was reduced
to a mere skeleton. We moved on slowly and painfully, until evening,
when we encamped. On my return from setting our two traps, I killed a
buzzard, which, disagreeable as it was, we cooked for supper. In the
morning of the 18th, I found one of the traps had caught an otter.
This served for breakfast and supper. It seemed the means of our
present salvation, for my father had become so weak, that he could no
longer travel. We therefore encamped early, and three of us went out
to hunt deer among the hills. But in this sad emergency we could find
none. When we returned, my father had prepared lots, that we should
draw, to determine who of us should kill one of the dogs. I refused
through fear that the lot would fall to me. These faithful companions
of our sufferings were so dear to me, that I felt as though I could not
allow them to be killed to save my own life; though to save my father,
I was aware that it was a duty to allow it to be done.
We lay here until the 18th, my father finding the flesh of the dog
both sweet, nutritive and strengthening. On the 18th, he was again
able to travel; and on the 20th, we arrived at Bear creek, where we
hid the bears oil, which we found unmolested. We lay here two days,
during which time we killed four deer and some turkies. The venison we
dried, and cased the skin of one of the deer, in which to carry our
oil. We commenced an early march on the 23d, and on the 25th reached
the river San Francisco, where we found our buried furs all safe. I
suffered exceedingly from the soreness of my feet, giving me great pain
and fever at night. We made from our raw deer skins a very tolerable
substitute for shoes. The adoption of this important expedient enabled
us to push on, so that we reached the Copper mines on the 29th.
The Spaniards seemed exceedingly rejoiced, and welcomed us home,
as though we were of their own nation, religion and kindred. They
assured us, that they had no expectation ever to see us again. The
superintendent of the mines, especially, who appeared to me a gentleman
of the highest order, received {72} us with particular kindness, and
supplied all our pressing wants. Here we remained, to rest and recruit
ourselves, until the 2d of May. My father then advised me to travel
to Santa Fe, to get some of our goods, and purchase a new supply of
horses, with which to return, and bring in our furs. I had a horse,
which we had taken from the Indians, shod with copper shoes, and in
company with four of my companions, and the superintendent of the
mines, I started for Santa Fe. The superintendent assured us, that he
would gladly have furnished us horses; but the Appache Indians[60]
had recently made an incursion upon his establishment, stealing all
his horses, and killing three men, that were herding them. This
circumstance had suspended the working of the mines. Besides he was
unable to procure the necessary coal, with which to work them, because
the Appaches way-laid the colliers, and killed them, as often as they
attempted to make coal.
We arrived at the house of the governor on the 12th. Jacova, his
daughter, received us with the utmost affection; and shed tears on
observing me so ill; as I was in fact reduced by starvation and
fatigue, to skin and bone. Beings in a more wretched plight she could
not often have an opportunity to see. My hair hung matted and uncombed.
My head was surmounted with an old straw hat. My legs were fitted with
leather leggins, and my body arrayed in a leather hunting shirt, and
no want of dirt about any part of the whole. My companions did not
shame me, in comparison, by being better clad. But all these repulsive
circumstances notwithstanding, we were welcomed by the governor and
Jacova, as kindly, as if we had been clad in a manner worthy of their
establishment.