A few hours' ride brought us to the western end of the pass; when,
rounding a spur of the mountain, a wide plain was suddenly displayed to
our view.
"_Mira_!" exclaimed the Mexican, "_el campamento de los Judios_!"
(Behold! the encampment of the Jews!)
The guide halted as he spoke. The rest of us followed his example--as
we did so, gazing in the direction to which he had pointed.
The plain that stretched before us was the grand _valle_ of San Luis;
but presenting none of those characteristics which we usually associate
with the word "valley." On the contrary, its surface was perfectly
level--having all the aspect of a sleeping sea; and with the white filmy
haze suspended over it, it might easily have been mistaken for an
expanse of ocean. At first sight, it appeared to be bounded only by the
horizon; but a keen eye could perceive its western rim--in the dim
outlines of the Sierra San Juan, backed by the brighter summits of the
"Silver" Mountains (_Sierra de la plata_). More conspicuous, on the
north, were the wooded slopes of the Sierras Mojada and Sawatch; while,
right and left, towered the snow-covered peaks of Pike and the Watoyah--
like giant sentinels guarding the approach to this fair mountain-girt
valley. These details were taken in at a single _coup d'oeil_; and in
the same glance the eye was attracted by the sheen of real water, that,
like a glittering cord, was seen sinuously extended through the centre
of the plain. Under the dancing sunbeams, it appeared in motion; and,
curving repeatedly over the bosom of the level land, it resembled some
grand serpent of sparkling coruscation that had just issued from the
mysterious mountains of the "Silver Sierra," and was slowly and gently
gliding on towards the distant sea. From the elevation on which we
stood, we could trace its tortuous windings, towards the distant Sierra
of San Juan; and in the concavity of one of these--almost upon the verge
of our vision--we beheld "el campamento de los Judios."
Unprepared for it, we should never have thought of taking what we saw
for an encampment of Mormons, or men of any kind. Under the white filmy
veil that floated over the plain, some half-dozen little, spots of a
more intensified white were barely visible. These the Mexican
pronounced to be "los carros" (the waggons). I had recovered my
pocket-glass, and this was now called into requisition. A glance
through it enabled me to confirm the trapper's statement. The white
spots were waggon-covers: they could be none other than those of the
Mormon train. I could make out only some half-dozen of them; but there
were others behind. The vehicles were clumped, or, more likely,
_corralled_ upon the plain. This, indeed, was evident from their
arrangement. Those seen were set in a regular row, with their sides
towards us--forming, no doubt, one quarter of the "corral."
I looked for living forms. These were also visible under the glass--men
and animals. Of the latter, a large drove of different kinds and
colours could be seen, mottling the plain to some distance from the
waggons. The men were moving about the vehicles. Women I could also
distinguish by their dresses; but the distance was too great for me to
note the occupations of either sex--even by the aid of the magnifying
lens. Lilliputians they looked--both men and women--while the horses
and cattle might have been mistaken for a pack of curs. It mattered not
to us to know their occupation; nor even what they might be doing when
we should arrive upon the ground. We had no intention of stealing upon
them. Confident in our complete _deguisement_, we intended to ride
boldly forward--if need be, into the very middle of their camp. It was
now the hour of noon; and we halted to bivouac. Although the distance
that separated us from the Mormon camp was still considerable, we were
in no hurry, about advancing. We had formed the resolution not to join
company with the Saints, until near sunset. We knew that there would be
curious eyes upon us; and in the hour of twilight we should be less
exposed to their scrutiny. True, we might have joined them in the
night, and passed off our counterfeit semblance with still greater
security. But the morning would bring fresh light, with curiosity
unsatisfied, and that would be more disadvantageous. Half an hour of
observation, and the novelty of our arrival would wear off. For this
the half hour of twilight would be the best time. No doubt, they had
met many parties of friendly Indians while crossing the great plains.
There had been some among their travelling companions. They would
scarce consider us a curiosity. We had a reason for reaching their
encampment a little before nightfall: we wanted a few minutes of light
to take the bearings of the _corral_, and get acquainted with the
_topography_ of the surrounding plain. Who could tell what chances
might turn up in our favour? An opportunity might occur that very
night--as likely as afterwards, and perhaps under more favourable
circumstances? We had no desire to enter upon our engagement as guide
and hunters. We should be too willing to abandon the _role_, even
before beginning it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The last rays of the setting sun were sparkling on the selenite of the
Silver Mountains, as we approached the encampment of the Saints. We had
got near enough to make out the dimensions of the caravan. We saw that
there were about a score of the large tilted waggons (Troy and
Conestoga), with several smaller vehicles (Dearborns and Jerseys). The
latter, with springs, were no doubt the more luxurious travelling
carriages of such Saints as may have been in easier circumstances at
home; while the ox-drawn "Conestogas" belonged to the common crowd.
With the larger waggons, a "corral" had been formed--as is the usual
custom of the prairie caravan.
In the following fashion is the enclosure constructed:--The two front
waggons are drawn side by side, and halted close together. The two that
follow next on the trail, are driven up outside of these--until their
front wheels respectively touch the hind ones of the pair that precede
them--when they also stop. The pair following in their turn double
their poles upon these; and so on, till half the train is expended. The
enclosure is not yet complete. It forms only a half-circle, or rather a
semi-ellipse; and the corresponding half is obtained, by a slight change
in the mode of bringing up the remaining vehicles. These are driven
forward to the ground, so that the rear of each is turned _inward_--the
reverse of what was observed in bringing the others into place--and the
double-curve which before was constantly diverging, now becomes
convergent. When all the waggons have got into their places, the
ellipse will be completed; but it is customary to leave an _open_ space
at the end--a sort of avenue by which the enclosure may be entered.
When horses and cattle require to be _corralled_, this entrance can be
closed, by simply stretching a rope across it. If danger be
apprehended, the travellers can keep within this enclosure--the bodies
of the waggons forming an excellent rampart of defence. The tilts serve
as tents; and under their capacious covering the female members of the
emigrant's family are accustomed to sleep in comfort and security.
Sentinels outside, and horse-guards picketed still further off, give
warning of the approach of an enemy.
As we drew near the camp, we could perceive that in this approved
fashion had the Mormons constructed their _corral_. Most of the lighter
vehicles were inside the enclosure; and there we could see the forms of
women and children moving about in an excited manner--as if they had
retreated thither on discovering our approach. The men still remained
outside; and the horses and horned cattle had been left undisturbed.
Our party was not large enough to have created an alarm--even had our
arrival been unexpected. It could scarcely have been so. No doubt they
took us for what we were: the emissaries of the Utah chief!
When within a few hundred yards of the camp, a party, already on
horseback, came trotting towards us. Archilete had hoisted a piece of
white fawn-skin on his gun-rod--the world-known symbol of peace, and so
understood by the red men of America. A towel or table-cloth, or
something of the sort, was held up in answer; and after the
demonstration the mounted men spurred forward to meet us. When we had
approached within a dozen lengths of each other, both parties reined up;
and the Mexican and Mormon leader, separating from their respective
followers, met midway between the two parties, shook hands, and entered
into conversation. What they said was simple enough. I could hear the
trapper declaring in broken English the nature of our errand--that he
had been sent by Wa-ka-ra to act as their guide; and that we his
_companeros_, were the Utah hunters, to provide game for the caravan.
Of the Mormons who rode up to us there were half-a-dozen in all; and I
was fain to hope that they were not a fair specimen of the emigrant
party. They were not--as I afterwards ascertained. They were the
_Danites_, or _Destroying Angels_, that accompanied the train.
"Destroying _devils_" would have been a more appropriate appellation:
for six more villainous-looking individuals I had never beheld. There
was no sign of the angelic, neither in their eyes nor features--not a
trace; but, on the contrary, each might have passed for an impersonation
of the opposite character--a very "devil incarnate!" Five of them I had
never seen before--at least to remember them. The sixth only on one
occasion. Him I remembered well. The man who had once looked in the
face of the ex-attorney's clerk, and _ci-devant_ schoolmaster of
Swampville, was not likely soon to cast that countenance from his
remembrance. It was Stebbins who was talking to the Mexican. The
dialogue was of brief duration. The tale told by the trapper was
scarcely news: it had been expected; and was therefore accepted without
suspicion. The interview ended by the Mormon leader pointing to a place
where we might pitch our tents--outside the waggon enclosure, and near
the bank of the river. This was just what we desired; and, proceeding
direct to the spot, we commenced unpacking our paraphernalia.