CHAPTER XXX.
A Plentiful Hunting Camp.-Shoshonie Hunters - Hoback's River - Mad River-
Encampment Near the Pilot Knobs.- A Consultation. - Preparations for a Perilous
Voyage.
FIVE days were passed by Mr. Hunt and his companions in the fresh meadows watered
by the bright little mountain stream. The hunters made great havoc among the
buffaloes, and brought in quantities of meat; the voyageurs busied themselves about
the fires, roasting and stewing for present purposes, or drying provisions for the
journey; the pack-horses, eased of their burdens, rolled on the grass, or grazed at large
about the ample pasture; those of the party who had no call upon their services,
indulged in the luxury of perfect relaxation, and the camp presented a picture of rude
feasting and revelry, of mingled bustle and repose, characteristic of a halt in a fine
hunting country. In the course of one of their excursions, some of the men came in sight
of a small party of Indians, who instantly fled in great apparent consternation. They
immediately retreated to camp with the intelligence: upon which Mr. Hunt and four
others flung themselves upon their horses, and sallied forth to reconnoitre. After riding
for about eight miles, they came upon a wild mountain scene. A lonely green valley
stretched before them, surrounded by rugged heights. A herd of buffalo were careering
madly through it, with a troop of savage horsemen in full chase, plying them with their
bows and arrows. The appearance of Mr. Hunt and his companions put an abrupt end
to the hunt; the buffalo scuttled off in one direction, while the Indians plied their lashes
and galloped off in another, as fast as their steeds could carry them. Mr. Hunt gave
chase; there was a sharp scamper, though of short continuance. Two young Indians,
who were indifferently mounted, were soon overtaken. They were terribly frightened,
and evidently gave themselves up for lost. By degrees their fears were allayed by kind
treatment; but they continued to regard the strangers with a mixture of awe and wonder,
for it was the first time in their lives they had ever seen a white man.
They belonged to a party of Snakes who had come across the mountains on their
autumnal hunting excursion to provide buffalo meat for the winter. Being persuaded of
the peaceful intentions of Mr. Hunt and his companions, they willingly conducted them
to their camp. It was pitched in a narrow valley on the margin of a stream. The tents
were of dressed skins, some of them fantastically painted; with horses grazing about
them. The approach of the party caused a transient alarm in the camp, for these poor
Indians were ever on the look-out for cruel foes. No sooner, however, did they
recognize the garb and complexion of their visitors, than their apprehensions were
changed into Joy; for some of them had dealt with white men, and knew them to be
friendly, and to abound with articles of singular value. They welcomed them, therefore,
to their tents, set food before them; and entertained them to the best of their power.
They had been successful in their hunt, and their camp was full of jerked buffalo meat,
all of the choicest kind, and extremely fat. Mr. Hunt purchased enough of them, in
addition to what had been killed and cured by his own hunters, to load all the horses
excepting those reserved for the partners and the wife of Pierre Dorion. He found, also,
a few beaver skins in their camp, for which he paid liberally, as an inducement to them
to hunt for more; informing them that some of his party intended to live among the
mountains, and trade with the native hunters for their peltries. The poor Snakes soon
comprehended the advantages thus held out to them, and promised to exert
themselves to procure a quantity of beaver skins for future traffic. Being now well
supplied with provisions, Mr. Hunt broke up his encampment on the 24th of September,
and continued on to the west. A march of fifteen miles, over a mountain ridge, brought
them to a stream about fifty feet in width, which Hoback, one of their guides, who had
trapped about the neighborhood when in the service of Mr. Henry, recognized for one
of the head waters of the Columbia. The travellers hailed it with delight, as the first
stream they had encountered tending toward their point of destination. They kept along
it for two days, during which, from the contribution of many rills and brooks, it gradually
swelled into a small river. As it meandered among rocks and precipices, they were
frequently obliged to ford it, and such was its rapidity that the men were often in danger
of being swept away. Sometimes the banks advanced so close upon the river that they
were obliged to scramble up and down their rugged promontories, or to skirt along their
bases where there was scarce a foothold. Their horses had dangerous falls in some of
these passes. One of them rolled, with his load, nearly two hundred feet down hill into
the river, but without receiving any injury. At length they emerged from these
stupendous defiles, and continued for several miles along the bank of Hoback's River,
through one of the stern mountain valleys. Here it was joined by a river of greater
magnitude and swifter current, and their united waters swept off through the valley in
one impetuous stream, which, from its rapidity and turbulence, had received the name
of the Mad River. At the confluence of these streams the travellers encamped. An
important point in their arduous journey had been attained; a few miles from their camp
rose the three vast snowy peaks called the Tetons, or the Pilot Knobs , the great
landmarks of the Columbia, by which they had shaped their course through this
mountain wilderness. By their feet flowed the rapid current of Mad River, a stream
ample enough to admit of the navigation of canoes, and down which they might
possibly be able to steer their course to the main body of the Columbia. The Canadian
voyageurs rejoiced at the idea of once more launching themselves upon their favorite
element; of exchanging their horses for canoes, and of gliding down the bosoms of
rivers, instead of scrambling over the backs of mountains. Others of the party, also,
inexperienced in this kind of travelling, considered their toils and troubles as drawing to
a close. They had conquered the chief difficulties of this great rocky barrier, and now
flattered themselves with the hope of an easy downward course for the rest of their
journey. Little did they dream of the hardships and perils by land and water, which were
yet to be encountered in the frightful wilderness that intervened between them and the
shores of the Pacific!