Continuation of Fremont's Account of the Passage Through the Mountains.
"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 thunderstorm. 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 today 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 20 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 animals 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 mistletoe.
"The opposite mountain side was very steep and continuous--unbroken
by ravines, and covered with pines and snow; while on the side we were
travelling, 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 night fall 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 hillside 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 today--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 meantime 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."
At the end of four days, Mr. Preuss surprised and delighted his friends
by walking into camp. He had lived on roots and acorns and was in the
last stages of exhaustion.
Shortly the advance party reached Sutter's Fort where they received the
most hospitable treatment. All their wants were abundantly supplied, and
provisions were sent back to Fitzpatrick and his party.