FAMINE AND FROST
Many even of our Western-bred officers would have considered themselves
justified in lying about camp for at least a day after such a trip. Not
so Pike. Toward noon of the next day, which was the last of November,
our entire party marched on up the main stream, in the thick of a heavy
snowstorm.
We had at last come to the real hardships of our voyage. Within the week
two or three of the men suffered frosted feet. The temperature fell to
nearly twenty degrees below zero, so that even I felt the cold keenly
through my hunting clothes, while the Lieutenant and the others, clad
only in their cotton wear, suffered still more from the stinging frost.
Yet, despite all the troubles and hardships of ourselves and our
half-starved horses, we held to our explorations, day after day, killing
an occasional buffalo or deer, and gradually working our way into the
midst of the mighty mountains, northward and westward behind the Grand
Peak, along what we thought to be the Spanish trace. At last we came to
a large stream, which, to our astonishment, ran to the northeast. Though
against all our previous theories, we were forced to believe that this
must be the river La Platte. Ascending the stream in a northwesterly
direction, all alike suffering greatly from the cold of these high
valleys, we passed signs of an immense encampment of Indians. But we saw
no more of the Spanish trace, or rather of the Indian trace which we had
followed into the mountains, thinking it to be the Spanish.
Turning back upon our own trace some little distance, we crossed over a
pass in the mountains to the southwest, and descending a small stream,
came upon what we thought to be the upper waters of the Red River. Here,
while our wretched, famished beasts were recruiting themselves upon a
favorable bit of pasture land, the Lieutenant marched with a small party
to explore upstream. At the same time Baroney and I marched down the
river, our mission being to kill game for the others, who were to follow
us in a day or two.
It was not, however, until three days later, on Christmas Eve, that our
party found itself reunited in one camp. After two days of unsuccessful
hunting, Baroney and I had at last killed four buffaloes, and young
Sparks had shot four more. In view of the fact that we had all been for
two days without food, the meeting brought us great happiness.
Yet I cannot say that Christmas Day, which we spent in camp, smoking and
drying our meat, was as merry as it might have been. The contrast with
all our previous experiences of that holiday was far too sombre. Some of
the men even drew unfavorable comparisons between this and the past
year, when they were at the head of the Mississippi. Though then in a
still colder climate and among the fierce Chippewas, they had at least
enjoyed far better food and shelter. As for our present food, though now
for the first time in weeks we had an abundant supply, it was limited to
the one item of meat, which we must eat without so much as a pinch of
salt. Our summery clothes were rent and tattered; many of our blankets
torn up for stockings; our outer footwear reduced to clumsy moccasins of
raw buffalo hide.
To these physical privations was added the consciousness of the grim
fact that between us and the nearest of our far-distant frontier
settlements lay all the mountain wilderness we had traversed, and more
than seven hundred miles of desert plains. Yet, taken all in all, we
managed to spend the day in fairly good cheer, despite the snow which
came whirling down upon us.
On the afternoon of the next day we marched down to where the mountains
closed in on the river valley. From here on, each succeeding day until
the fifth of January found our way rougher and more difficult. The
valley became ever deeper and narrower, so that we had to cross and
recross the river repeatedly, our horses frequently falling upon the
ice. Even harder upon them were their no less frequent slips among the
rocks of the banks.
Much to my relief, I was not required to witness the sufferings of the
poor beasts coming down through the worst of that terrible canyon. On
New Year's Day Brown and I were sent ahead to hunt. Within the first few
hours we had the good fortune to bring down a huge-horned mountain ram.
Leaving this in our path for the others to skin and dress, we struggled
on down the ever-narrowing valley all that day and the next without
sighting any other game.
On the third of January we found ourselves fighting our way along in the
gloomy depths of a cleft that wound and twisted through the very bowels
of the mountains. The bottom of this tremendous gorge was almost filled
with the foaming, roaring torrent of the river, while on either side the
cliffs towered skyward in sheer, precipitous precipices, thousands of
feet high. Never before had I seen or heard of such a terrific chasm,
and may I never again be caught in its like!
Leaping and slipping over the icy rocks beside the furious rapids and
falls, and creeping along the narrow ledges of ice that here and there
rimmed the less torrential stretches of the stream, we at last gained a
spot where a little ravine ran up through the face of the precipice. We
saw that it was impossible for us to descend that gloomy gorge even a
few yards farther. The icy waters of the roaring cascades swept the bed
of the chasm from wall to wall.
Yet to ascend the side cleft seemed no less beyond our power. The water,
running down from above earlier in the season, had coated the rocky
surface from top to bottom with an unbroken slide of ice. It seemed
outright madness to attempt that dizzy ascent. However, a man never
knows what he can do until he has tried. We set to, I with my tomahawk
and Brown with his axe, and by cutting footholds, turn about, in the ice
of the ravine's bottom, we slowly worked our way up the giddy rise.
Again and again we came near to slipping and so plunging headlong down
that glassy slide. After the first hundred feet, we dared no longer look
back below, for fear of being overcome with dizziness. Yet at last we
came to easier climbing, and, scaling the side of the ravine, found
ourselves safe on the mountain ridge, far above the river and its
cavernous gorge.
Here we soon killed a deer, and leaving the greater part of the carcass
for our companions, pushed on another day across the mountains. We had
at last sighted the prairies from our lofty heights, when, pressed by
hunger, I was so ill advised as to eat some of the berries we found
hanging to the bushes. As a result I suffered such vertigo that I was
compelled to lie quiet in camp. But Brown put in the time very well by
killing no less than six deer.
Early in the forenoon of the sixth, as we hastened down out of the
mountains, we again came within earshot of the torrential river of the
gorge. Drawn by the sound, we scrambled around the point of an
out-jutting ridge, and found ourselves on the river bank where it flowed
from the gorge. It was not the first time I had stood on that selfsame
spot.
"Good God!" I groaned. "After all our toil, and only this!"
"You may well say it, John," echoed a melancholy voice from beneath the
cliff upstream.
"Montgomery!" I cried. "You here?"
He appeared from around a big rock, sad and dejected; but at sight of my
companion, instantly assumed a look of unbending resolve.
"We scattered," he explained, as I grasped his hand. "The others took
the horses up out of the gorge by the least difficult of the side
ravines. I followed your trace down into the midst of that awesome cleft
and up the icy ascent. But I lost the trace on the mountain top, and so
came on down here--"
"To find that, after all our toil and privation, it is not the Red
River!" I cried.
"Ah, well, it is something to have rounded the headwaters of the
Arkansas," he replied. He turned to Brown: "You will find two of your
fellows downstream at the old camp. Join them, and see what the three of
you can do toward killing meat against the coming of the others."
"Aye, sir!" responded Brown, with ready salute.
He was striding off when I interrupted: "Wait! Montgomery, he has six
deer already hung."
"Good! The more the better! Fetch the other lads, Brown, and bring in
your game. If you see more deer, do what you can to bring them in too."
Brown saluted the second time, and started off at a dogtrot.
I looked inquiringly into the Lieutenant's darkening face and thought I
read his purpose. "If any of the horses come through alive, they will
nevertheless be too outworn for farther travel within many weeks. You
propose to go into winter quarters?"
"No!" he answered almost angrily.
"Yet the horses?" I argued.
"Poor beasts!" he sighed. "Would that I might put them out of their
misery--such of their number as the men may bring alive out of that
rocky waste! Yet we cannot spare them, and the fewer the survivors, the
greater our need to cherish them. We will build a stockade, and leave
the beasts here in the charge of two or three of the men."
"Leave them! And what of ourselves?"
"We will go on in search of the Red River."
"Afoot? In midwinter?"
"Southward. There must be passes over the mountains to the
southwest,--passes leading over into the warmer valleys. All reports
agree that the Spanish settlements enjoy a mild climate."
"The Spanish settlements!" I cried. "You would head for the Spanish
settlements! Give the word, Montgomery; the sooner the better. Ho, for
Nuevo Mexico and my lady!"
He shook his head soberly. "It is well you are not in command, John,
else I fear you would have even less chance than now of winning your way
to your lady. It is a desperate move we are about to undertake."
I smiled. "Can anything be more desperate than our present situation?"
"We must leave the horses to recuperate," he replied. "With the horses
we must leave a guard. Two men will be as many as we can spare. They
must have a stockade for defence should they be attacked by Indians or
Spaniards."
"Come!" I exclaimed. "Only show me the place, an axe, and a grove of
pines. I will have your stockade well under way by nightfall."
He took me at my word, and at once led the way downstream to the site of
our last camp on the river before we struck off into the mountains
behind the Grand Peak. On the way we met Brown and his two companions,
going to fetch his deer. We borrowed from them two of their axes, and,
arriving at the camp, at once set about felling pines.
Before nightfall we were rejoined by Brown's party and two others, the
latter bringing in four sadly disabled horses. The least wearied of the
men were at once sent back in search of the remaining parties, carrying
a plentiful supply of deer meat to supply those who might be famished.
To make a long story short, the ninth of January saw the last member of
the expedition in camp, safe and sound, with a loss all told of only
four horses.
To hunt down a sufficient store of game and complete the blockhouse for
Baroney and Smith, the two men detailed to stay in charge of the bruised
and half-famished beasts, occupied the party a full five days. But
between times in helping and directing the others, Pike and I managed to
take several observations to determine the latitude and longitude of the
camp. I also spent much time copying the records of all our courses and
distances up to the time of our entry into the mountains, and in
elaborating my own notes on the mineralogy, etc., of the vast rocky
ranges traversed by us.
When finally we started on our next desperate venture, it was with
hearts far lighter than backs. I was overjoyed at the thought that I was
at last to march toward the Spanish settlements--and Alisanda! The
others had their own good reasons to be pleased. Ignorant of what lay
before us, we were alike happy in the thought that our faces were now
turned southward, and gladly shouldered our heavy packs for the march.
Each one of us carried a forty-five pound load, made up of Indian
presents, tools, ammunition, and scientific instruments. To this were
added our weapons and other necessary equipage and a small quantity of
half-dried meat, bringing our burdens up to an average weight of seventy
pounds. Some packed a few pounds more, some less, each according to his
strength. Our leader was among those who carried more. As for myself,
being the biggest man of the party, I found that I could make shift to
start off with a hundredweight.
Thus, as we thought, well provided for our trip, we struck out boldly
over a ridge and southwardly up a valley which lay behind the front, or
easternmost range of mountains. We had taken to calling these the Blue
Mountains, for though at this season they were where barren hardly less
snow-clad than the stupendous sierra to the westward of them, the
pine-clad ridges of their slopes, no matter how far distant, appeared
colored a clear dark blue, without a trace of haze.
At the beginning of our journey the White Sierra stood so far to the
westward, and our course lay up a winding stream through such hilly
country that we did not sight their towering peaks until the morning of
the fourth day. After this they remained always in view, for the range
trended to the east of south in such manner as gradually to approach the
front range, or Blue Mountains, which trended south and seemingly a
little to the west.
Meantime on the second day, the Lieutenant, Sparks and myself had the
good fortune each to bring down a deer. Deceived by this seeming
abundance of game, we added little of the fresh meat to our already
over-heavy loads, and some of the men even threw away what remained of
the dried meat in their packs. Far better had we cast away our Indian
trinkets, and even the greater part of our tools!
Within half a day the very last of our food was exhausted, and as no
more game was seen, we at once found ourselves face to face with famine.
To add to our distress, in crossing over the valley toward the White
Mountains two days later, to reach a belt of woods, we had to wade the
creek, and the cold coming on extreme, the feet of nine of the men were
severely frozen before we could get fuel and warm ourselves. We did what
we could to draw out the frost with snow-chafing, but in several
instances the injury had gone beyond that remedy.
Our camp that night was in truth a most miserable one. Not an ounce of
food had we eaten in nearly two days, and though we had an abundance of
pitch-pine for fuel, this meant only that we were free to crouch before
the fires, in our thin tatters, and roast one side, while the other was
pierced by the terrible frost. Hungry, exhausted, and shivering, we
huddled about the fires, even those who were suffering the least being
hardly able to obtain a few hours of broken sleep.
It was all too evident that we must soon find food, or perish of
starvation in this fearful mountain wilderness. At dawn Pike and I took
our rifles and set out, aware that the lives of all depended upon the
success of our hunt.
Spurred on though we were by this dreadful necessity, our wide circuits
through the pine groves and around the hills brought us no sight of any
game throughout that dreary day. At last, near nightfall, we came upon a
gaunt old buffalo bull, and stalked him with extreme care. But though we
succeeded in creeping within range and wounding him three times, our aim
was so unsteady that none of our balls reached a vital spot. He made off
and escaped us.
Bitterly disappointed, and weary from our long hunt, we sought shelter
in a group of rocks, and spent a sleepless night, without food or fire.
Neither of us had the heart to go into camp and tell our starving
companions of our failure.
The long hours of midwinter frost and darkness at last drew to an end,
and, half dead from cold and hunger, we set off again, in the first gray
light of dawn.
After hours of searching, we sighted a small drove of buffalo.
Immediately we circled about to get down the wind from them, and, by
creeping on all fours nearly a mile through the snow, stalked within
fair range of the nearest. By this time, however, we were both so faint
and quivering from starvation and over-exertion that neither of us could
hold his gun steady. Again and again we fired and reloaded, the stupid
beasts standing all unconcerned at the report of our guns, though we
repeatedly hit the nearer members of their band. With muskets we could
surely have soon brought down one or more, if only from their loss of
blood. But the tiny wound made by a rifle ball is of little effect
unless a vital part is pierced.
In the end we must have succeeded by a chance shot. But while we were
yet blazing away as fast as we could load and fire, one of the herd
chanced to drift around to where a flaw in the wind bore our scent to
his sensitive nostrils. In an instant he had alarmed the herd, and all
raced off, snorting with fear, the wounded running no less swiftly than
their fellows. To follow such a stampede was useless. Once started, the
animals would run for hours.
We staggered to our feet and gazed after the fleeing herd in utter
despair.
"It is the end!" I groaned--"the end! We have lost our last chance!"
"We are outspent!" murmured my companion. "We can do no more! My poor
lads! faithful ever to their rash leader! To think that I have led them
into this death-trap!"
"They are men!" I cried in bitter anger. "What is death to men?--even
this hideous agony of hunger? We can bear that. But to die now--my
God!--that I should die before seeing her!--my Alisanda!"
"No! not now!" He turned upon me with a flicker of feverish resolve in
his hollow, bloodshot eyes. "Not now, not here! We are not cowards to
give up the struggle while we can yet drag ourselves along."
"As well here as a few paces farther on," I muttered.
He dragged at my arm to rouse me from the black stupor of mind and body
into which I was fast sinking. "John! think of her!" he cried. "You'll
not give up! Keep fighting, for her sake, keep fighting, lad!"
"For her sake," I whispered. I caught at his clutching hand and sought
to rally from that benumbing stupor. "For her sake!"
"And I--for the sake of those--who await the return of husband and
father!" he panted. "Come! We'll fight--to the last!"
Death alone might conquer that indomitable spirit! We staggered on
through the bleak wild, our eyes inflamed and half blinded by the snow,
peering about in vain search for game. We did not turn back. To return
to camp empty-handed would have been the bitterest of mockeries,
supposing we could have found strength to go so far.... We staggered on,
but we were upon the verge; we had all but reached the utmost limit of
human endurance. For four days we had marched over broken ground and
through the snowdrifts in this midwinter cold--four days without food!
Even Pike's iron resolve could not force his wasted muscles to perform
miracles.
I found myself dulling even to the thought of Alisanda. The end was
close upon us. A darkness was gathering about me. We were upon the verge
of exhaustion. Several times Pike fell, half fainting, and presently I
also began to stumble and sink down at the slightest misstep. Certain
that we were about to perish, we bent every effort to reach the nearest
trees, reeling and staggering like drunken men, or crawling, between
times, when we found ourselves unable to stand.
Half stunned by one of my falls, I lay outstretched, gasping and
quivering, when I heard Pike utter a stifled cry. I strained my head
about, and to my astonishment saw that he was on his feet and running
forward. Staring beyond, over a snowdrift, I caught sight of a little
herd of buffaloes advancing at an angle to our course. For a little my
strength came back as had my friend's. Staggering up, I tottered after
him. By the most fortunate of chances, the wind was in our favor, so
that the dull-sighted beasts came on without heeding us.
Pike had already gained a clump of cedar trees. Resting the long barrel
of his rifle across one of the low branches, he took quick aim and
fired. The shot struck the young cow which was at the head of the herd.
She stopped short. The others, sighting us, wheeled and made off at
their lumbering gallop. But to our amazement and joy, the wounded animal
stood as if dazed. I rested my rifle across a limb, and managed to give
the beast a second wound. A moment later Pike flung out his ramrod and
fired his second shot. The cow wheeled half about, and moved slowly off
to the left.
I had already poured a double charge of powder down my rifle barrel.
Upon this I drove home a ball without stopping to patch it, and dashing
the pan full of priming, took hasty aim behind the animal's shoulder. By
good chance the ball struck her to the heart. Yet even when she fell we
kept our places, hastily reloading our rifles. Not until she had lain
for some moments with outstretched head did we venture to advance, for
even a desperately wounded beast is apt to leap up and make off at sight
of the hunters.
Our hunger and exhaustion were so great that, once beside our kill, we
could not even wait to devour the raw flesh, but slashed open a vein in
the neck and drank the warm blood. Nothing could have revived us more
quickly. Before many minutes we were strong enough to set about the
dressing of our game. As we worked, we devoured bits of meat, which
eased our famished stomachs and added yet more to our slowly returning
strength. By nightfall we had managed to butcher the carcass, and
loading ourselves with as much of the meat as we could carry, we
staggered off in search of the camp.
When at last we sighted the welcome blaze of the fires and dragged
ourselves into camp, it was past midnight. Neither of us could have gone
another furlong. As we threw off our loads and sank down beside the
fire, Pike was seized with so severe a vertigo that it was some time
before he could sense the joyful greetings of our camp-mates.
Even before they caught sight of the burdens we bore, the brave
sufferers had hailed our approach with heroic cheerfulness. Now, with
every mouthful of frozen meat, our leader recovered from his dizziness,
and generous strips of steak sizzling on the green-wood spits, the
spirits of all rose even to the pitch of merriment. Desperate as was
still our situation, it yet seemed like paradise after the anguish of
body and mind through which we had passed.
No men, I venture to say, ever bore pain and privation and hardship with
more heroic fortitude than was shown by these poor fellows. All but
three had been compelled to endure the agony of their frozen feet, in
addition to the pangs of starvation, and the sad truth that these
injuries went beyond a mere frosting was all too evident in the morning,
when, upon examining the men, I found that two of them, at the best,
would have to give up their packs and hobble along with the aid of
crutches. As for Dougherty and Sparks, both were too disabled to march
at all.