CHAPTER XXIII.

"We had hard and doubtful labor yet before us, as the snow appeared to

be heavier where the timber began further down, with few open spots.

Ascending a height, we traced out the best line we could discover for

the next day's march, and had at least the consolation to see that the

mountain descended rapidly. The day had been one of April; gusty, with a

few occasional flakes of snow; which, in the afternoon, enveloped the

upper mountains in clouds. We watched them anxiously, as now we dreaded

a snow storm. Shortly afterwards we heard the roll of thunder, and

looking toward the valley, found it all enveloped in a thunder-storm.

For us, as connected with the idea of summer, it had a singular charm;

and we watched its progress with excited feelings until nearly sunset,

when the sky cleared off brightly, and we saw a shining line of water

directing its course towards another, a broader and larger sheet. We

knew that these could be no other than the Sacramento and the bay of San

Francisco; but, after our long wandering in rugged mountains, where so

frequently we had met with disappointments, and where the crossing of

every ridge displayed some unknown lake or river, we were yet almost

afraid to believe that we were at last to escape into the genial country

of which we have heard so many glowing descriptions, and dreaded again

to find some vast interior lake, whose bitter waters would bring us

disappointment. On the southern shore of what appeared to be the bay,

could be traced the gleaming line where entered another large stream;

and again the Buenaventura rose up in our mind.

"Carson had entered the valley along the southern side of the bay, but

the country then was so entirely covered with water from snow and rain,

that he had been able to form no correct impression of watercourses.

"We had the satisfaction to know that at least there were people below.

Fires were lit up in the valley just at night, appearing to be in answer

to ours; and these signs of life renewed, in some measure, the gayety of

the camp. They appeared so near, that we judged them to be among the

timber of some of the neighboring ridges; but, having them constantly

in view day after day, and night after night, we afterwards found them

to be fires that had been kindled by the Indians among the _tulares_, on

the shore of the bay, eighty miles distant.

"Axes and mauls were necessary to-day to make a road through the snow.

Going ahead with Carson to reconnoitre the road, we reached in the

afternoon the river which made the outlet of the lake. Carson sprang

over, clear across a place where the stream was compressed among rocks,

but the _parfleche_ sole of my moccasin glanced from the icy rock, and

precipitated me into the river. It was some few seconds before I could

recover myself in the current, and Carson, thinking me hurt, jumped in

after me, and we both had an icy bath. We tried to search a while for my

gun, which had been lost in the fall, but the cold drove us out; and

making a large fire on the bank, after we had partially dried ourselves

we went back to meet the camp. We afterwards found that the gun had been

slung under the ice which lined the banks of the creek.

"The sky was clear and pure, with a sharp wind from the northeast, and

the thermometer 2° below the freezing point.

"We continued down the south face of the mountain; our road leading over

dry ground, we were able to avoid the snow almost entirely. In the

course of the morning, we struck a foot path, which we were generally

able to keep; and the ground was soft to our animal's feet, being sandy

or covered with mould. Green grass began to make its appearance, and

occasionally we passed a hill scatteringly covered with it. The

character of the forest continued the same; and, among the trees, the

pine with sharp leaves and very large cones was abundant, some of them

being noble trees. We measured one that had ten feet diameter, though

the height was not more than one hundred and thirty feet. All along, the

river was a roaring torrent, its fall very great; and, descending with a

rapidity to which we had long been strangers, to our great pleasure oak

trees appeared on the ridge, and soon became very frequent; on these I

remarked unusually great quantities of misletoe.

[Illustration: "MY MOCCASIN GLANCED FROM THE ICY ROCK, AND PRECIPITATED

ME INTO THE RIVER."]

"The opposite mountain side was very steep and continuous--unbroken

by ravines, and covered with pines and snow; while on the side we

were traveling, innumerable rivulets poured down from the ridge.

Continuing on, we halted a moment at one of these rivulets, to admire

some beautiful evergreen trees, resembling live oak, which shaded the

little stream. They were forty to fifty feet high, and two in diameter,

with a uniform tufted top; and the summer green of their beautiful

foliage, with the singing birds, and the sweet summer wind which was

whirling about the dry oak leaves, nearly intoxicated us with delight;

and we hurried on, filled with excitement, to escape entirely from the

horrid region of inhospitable snow, to the perpetual spring of the

Sacramento.

"_February 25._--Believing that the difficulties of the road were

passed, and leaving Mr. Fitzpatrick to follow slowly, as the condition

of the animals required, I started ahead this morning with a party of

eight, consisting (with myself) of Mr. Preuss, and Mr. Talbot, Carson,

Derosier, Towns, Proue, and Jacob. We took with us some of the best

animals, and my intention was to proceed as rapidly as possible to the

house of Mr. Sutter, and return to meet the party with a supply of

provisions and fresh animals.

"Near nightfall we descended into the steep ravine of a handsome creek

thirty feet wide, and I was engaged in getting the horses up the

opposite hill, when I heard a shout from Carson, who had gone ahead a

few hundred yards--'Life yet,' said he, as he came up, 'life yet; I have

found a hill side sprinkled with grass enough for the night.' We drove

along our horses, and encamped at the place about dark, and there was

just room enough to make a place for shelter on the edge of the stream.

Three horses were lost to-day--Proveau; a fine young horse from the

Columbia, belonging to Charles Towns; and another Indian horse which

carried our cooking utensils; the two former gave out, and the latter

strayed off into the woods as we reached the camp: and Derosier, knowing

my attachment to Proveau, volunteered to go and bring him in.

"Carson and I climbed one of the nearest mountains; the forest land

still extended ahead, and the valley appeared as far as ever. The pack

horse was found near the camp, but Derosier did not get in.

"We began to be uneasy at Derosier's absence, fearing he might have been

bewildered in the woods. Charles Towns, who had not yet recovered his

mind, went to swim in the river, as if it was summer, and the stream

placid, when it was a cold mountain torrent foaming among the rocks. We

were happy to see Derosier appear in the evening. He came in, and

sitting down by the fire, began to tell us where he had been. He

imagined he had been gone several days, and thought we were still at the

camp where he had left us; and we were pained to see that his mind was

deranged. It appeared that he had been lost in the mountain, and hunger

and fatigue, joined to weakness of body, and fear of perishing in the

mountains had crazed him. The times were severe when stout men lost

their minds from extremity of suffering--when horses died--and when

mules and horses, ready to die of starvation, were killed for food. Yet

there was no murmuring or hesitation. In the mean time Mr. Preuss

continued on down the river, and unaware that we had encamped so early

in the day, was lost. When night arrived and he did not come in, we

began to understand what had happened to him; but it was too late to

make any search.

"_March 3._--We followed Mr. Preuss's trail for a considerable distance

along the river, until we reached a place where he had descended to the

stream below and encamped. Here we shouted and fired guns, but received

no answer; and we concluded that he had pushed on down the stream. I

determined to keep out from the river, along which it was nearly

impracticable to travel with animals, until it should form a valley. At

every step the country improved in beauty; the pines were rapidly

disappearing, and oaks became the principal trees of the forest. Among

these, the prevailing tree was the evergreen oak (which, by way of

distinction, we shall call the _live oak_); and with these, occurred

frequently a new species of oak, bearing a long, slender acorn, from an

inch to an inch and a half in length, which we now began to see formed

the principal vegetable food of the inhabitants of this region. In a

short distance we crossed a little rivulet, where were two old huts, and

near by were heaps of acorn hulls. The ground round about was very rich,

covered with an exuberant sward of grass; and we sat down for a while in

the shade of the oaks, to let the animals feed. We repeated our shouts

for Mr. Preuss; and this time we were gratified with an answer. The

voice grew rapidly nearer, ascending from the river, but when we

expected to see him emerge, it ceased entirely. We had called up some

straggling Indian--the first we had met, although for two days back we

had seen tracks--who, mistaking us for his fellows, had been only

undeceived by getting close up. It would have been pleasant to witness

his astonishment; he would not have been more frightened had some of the

old mountain spirits they are so much afraid of suddenly appeared in his

path. Ignorant of the character of these people, we had now additional

cause of uneasiness in regard to Mr. Preuss; he had no arms with him,

and we began to think his chance doubtful. Occasionally we met deer, but

had not the necessary time for hunting. At one of these orchard grounds,

we encamped about noon to make an effort for Mr. Preuss. One man took

his way along a spur leading into the river, in hope to cross his trail;

and another took our own back. Both were volunteers; and to the

successful man was promised a pair of pistols--not as a reward, but as a

token of gratitude for a service which would free us all from much

anxiety."

It was not until the 6th, and after a continuation of the most

incredible sufferings, already narrated, that the party reached Sutter's

Fort, where, it is needless to say, they were warmly and cordially

received by that gentleman,--and to close this stirring narrative, we

will only add as an evidence of the terrible sufferings to which they

had been subjected, that out of sixty-seven horses and mules with which

the expedition was commenced, only thirty-three reached the valley of

the Sacramento, and they had to be led. In quoting above from Fremont's

narrative, a continuous record has not been kept, as we have used only

such portions as contain the narrative of incidents directly connected

with the expedition, and of which, though scarcely mentioned throughout,

save in the most incidental manner, Carson might well say, and with

pride, _magna pars fui_.

In the course of this narrative we have frequently used the word

_cache_, and a brief interpretation of its meaning, we are sure will not

be uninteresting to the uninitiated.

A cache is a term common among traders and hunters, to designate a

hiding place for provisions and effects. It is derived from the French

word _cacher_, to conceal, and originated among the early colonists of

Canada and Louisiana; but the secret depository which it designates was

in use among the aboriginals long before the intrusion of the white men.

It is, in fact, the only mode that migratory hordes have of preserving

their valuables from robbery, during their long absences from their

villages or accustomed haunts on hunting expeditions, or during the

vicissitudes of war. The utmost skill and caution are required to render

these places of concealment invisible to the lynx eye of an Indian.

The first care is to seek out a proper situation, which is generally

some dry low bank of clay, on the margin of a water course. As soon as

the precise spot is pitched upon, blankets, saddle-cloths, and other

coverings are spread over the surrounding grass and bushes, to prevent

foot tracks, or any other derangement; and as few hands as possible are

employed. A circle of about two feet in diameter is then nicely cut in

the sod, which is carefully removed, with the loose soil immediately

beneath it, and laid aside in a place where it will be safe from any

thing that may change its appearance. The uncovered area is then digged

perpendicularly to the depth of about three feet, and is then gradually

widened so as to form a conical chamber six or seven feet deep.

The whole of the earth displaced by this process, being of a different

color from that on the surface, is handed up in a vessel, and heaped

into a skin or cloth, in which it is conveyed to the stream and thrown

into the midst of the current, that it may be entirely carried off.

Should the cache not be formed in the vicinity of a stream, the earth

thus thrown up is carried to a distance, and scattered in such a manner

as not to leave the minutest trace. The cave being formed, is well lined

with dry grass, bark, sticks, and poles, and occasionally a dried hide.

The property intended to be hidden is then laid in, after having been

well aired: a hide is spread over it, and dried grass, brush, and stones

thrown in, and trampled down until the pit is filled to the neck. The

loose soil which had been put aside is then brought, and rammed down

firmly, to prevent its caving in, and is frequently sprinkled with water

to destroy the scent, lest the wolves and bears should be attracted to

the place, and root up the concealed treasure.

When the neck of the cache is nearly level with the surrounding surface,

the sod is again fitted in with the utmost exactness, and any bushes,

stocks, or stones, that may have originally been about the spot, are

restored to their former places. The blankets and other coverings are

then removed from the surrounding herbage: all tracks are obliterated:

the grass is gently raised by the hand to its natural position, and the

minutest chip or straw is scrupulously gleaned up and thrown into the

stream. After all is done, the place is abandoned for the night, and,

if all be right next morning, is not visited again, until there be a

necessity for reopening the cache. Four men are sufficient in this way,

to conceal the amount of three tons weight of merchandize in the course

of two days.

Life of Kit Carson, the Great Western Hunter and Guide · 第 23 / 34 章