CHAPTER XXXV.
An Unexpected Meeting.-Navigation in a Skin Canoe.-Strange Fears of Suffering Men.-Hardships of Mr. Crooks and His Comrades.-Tidings of MLellan.- A Retrograde March.-
A Willow Raft.- Extreme Suffering of Some of the Party - Illness of Mr. Crooks.-
Impatience of Some of the Men.- Necessity of Leaving the Laggards Behind.
THE wanderers had now accomplished four hundred and seventy-two miles of their
dreary journey since leaving the Caldron Linn; how much further they had yet to travel,
and what hardships to encounter, no one knew.
On the morning of the 6th of December, they left their dismal encampment, but had
scarcely begun their march when, to their surprise, they beheld a party of white men
coming up along the opposite bank of the river. As they drew nearer, they were
recognized for Mr. Crooks and his companions. When they came opposite, and could
make themselves heard across the murmuring of the river, their first cry was for food; in
fact, they were almost starved. Mr. Hunt immediately returned to the camp, and had a
kind of canoe made out of the skin of the horse killed on the preceding night. This was
done after the Indian fashion, by drawing up the edges of the skin with thongs, and
keeping them distended by sticks or thwart pieces. In this frail bark, Sardepie, one of
the Canadians, carried over a portion of the flesh of the horse to the famishing party on
the opposite side of the river, and brought back with him Mr. Crooks and the Canadian,
Le Clerc. The forlorn and wasted looks and starving condition of these two men struck
dismay to the hearts of Mr. Hunt's followers. They had been accustomed to each
other's appearance, and to the gradual operation of hunger and hardship upon their
frames, but the change in the looks of these men, since last they parted, was a type of
the famine and desolation of the land; and they now began to indulge the horrible
presentiment that they would all starve together, or be reduced to the direful alternative
of casting lots!
When Mr. Crooks had appeased his hunger, he gave Mr. Hunt some account of his
wayfaring. On the side of the river along which he had kept, he had met with but few
Indians, and those were too miserably poor to yield much assistance. For the first
eighteen days after leaving the Caldron Linn, he and his men had been confined to half
a meal in twenty-four hours; for three days following, they had subsisted on a single
beaver, a few wild cherries, and the soles of old moccasins; and for the last six days
their only animal food had been the carcass of a dog. They had been three days'
journey further down the river than Mr. Hunt, always keeping as near to its banks as
possible, and frequently climbing over sharp and rocky ridges that projected into the
stream. At length they had arrived to where the mountains increased in height, and
came closer to the river, with perpendicular precipices, which rendered it impossible to
keep along the stream. The river here rushed with incredible velocity through a defile
not more than thirty yards wide, where cascades and rapids succeeded each other
almost without intermission. Even had the opposite banks, therefore, been such as to
permit a continuance of their journey, it would have been madness to attempt to pass
the tumultuous current either on rafts or otherwise. Still bent, however, on pushing
forward, they attempted to climb the opposing mountains; and struggled on through the
snow for half a day until, coming to where they could command a prospect, they found
that they were not half way to the summit, and that mountain upon mountain lay piled
beyond them, in wintry desolation. Famished and emaciated as they were, to continue
forward would be to perish; their only chance seemed to be to regain the river, and
retrace their steps up its banks. It was in this forlorn and retrograde march that they
had met Mr. Hunt and his party.
Mr. Crooks also gave information of some others of their fellow adventurers. He had
spoken several days previously with Mr. Reed and Mr. M'Kenzie, who with their men
were on the opposite side of the river, where it was impossible to get over to them.
They informed him that Mr. M'Lellan had struck across from the little river above the
mountains, in the hope of falling in with some of the tribe of Flatheads, who inhabit the
western skirts of the Rocky range. As the companions of Reed and M'Kenzie were
picked men, and had found provisions more abundant on their side of the river, they
were in better condition, and more fitted to contend with the difficulties of the country,
than those of Mr. Crooks, and when he lost sight of them, were pushing onward, down
the course of the river.
Mr. Hunt took a night to revolve over his critical situation, and to determine what was to
be done. No time was to be lost; he had twenty men and more in his own party, to
provide for, and Mr. Crooks and his men to relieve. To linger would be to starve. The
idea of retracing his steps was intolerable, and, notwithstanding all the discouraging
accounts of the ruggedness of the mountains lower down the river, he would have been
disposed to attempt them, but the depth of the snow with which they were covered
deterred him; having already experienced the impossibility of forcing his way against
such an impediment.
The only alternative, therefore, appeared to be, return and seek the Indian bands
scattered along the small rivers above the mountains. Perhaps, from some of these he
might procure horses enough to support him until he could reach the Columbia; for he
still cherished the hope of arriving at that river in the course of the winter, though he
was apprehensive that few of Mr. Crooks's party would be sufficiently strong to follow
him. Even in adopting this course, he had to make up his mind to the certainty of
several days of famine at the outset, for it would take that time to reach the last Indian
lodges from which he had parted, and until they should arrive there, his people would
have nothing to subsist upon but haws and wild berries, excepting one miserable
horse, which was little better than skin and bone.
After a night of sleepless cogitation, Mr. Hunt announced to his men the dreary
alternative he had adopted, and preparations were made to take Mr. Crooks and Le
Clerc across the river, with the remainder of the meat, as the other party were to keep
up along the opposite bank. The skin canoe had unfortunately been lost in the night; a
raft was constructed therefore, after the manner of the natives, of bundles of willows,
but it could not be floated across the impetuous current. The men were directed, in
consequence, to keep on along the river by themselves, while Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc
would proceed with Mr. Hunt. They all, then, took up their retrograde march with
drooping spirits.
In a little while, it was found that Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc were so feeble as to walk
with difficulty, so that Mr. Hunt was obliged to retard his pace, that they might keep up
with him. His men grew impatient at the delay. They murmured that they had a long and
desolate region to traverse, before they could arrive at the point where they might
expect to find horses; that it was impossible for Crooks and Le Clerc, in their feeble
condition, to get over it; that to remain with them would only be to starve in their
company. They importuned Mr. Hunt, therefore, to leave these unfortunate men to their
fate, and think only of the safety of himself and his party. Finding him not to be moved
either by entreaties or their clamors, they began to proceed without him, singly and in
parties. Among those who thus went off was Pierre Dorion, the interpreter. Pierre
owned the only remaining horse; which was now a mere skeleton. Mr. Hunt had
suggested, in their present extremity, that it should be killed for food; to which the half-breed flatly refused his assent, and cudgeling the miserable animal forward, pushed on
sullenly, with the air of a man doggedly determined to quarrel for his right. In this way
Mr. Hunt saw his men, one after another, break away, until but five remained to bear
him company.
On the following morning another raft was made, on which Mr. Crooks and Le Clerc
again attempted to ferry themselves across the river, but after repeated trials had to
give up in despair. This caused additional delay; after which they continued to crawl
forward at a snail's pace. Some of the men who had remained with Mr. Hunt now
became impatient of these incumbrances, and urged him clamorously to push forward,
crying out that they should all starve. The night which succeeded was intensely cold, so
that one of the men was severely frost-bitten. In the course of the night, Mr. Crooks was
taken ill, and in the morning was still more incompetent to travel. Their situation was
now desperate, for their stock of provisions was reduced to three beaver skins. Mr.
Hunt, therefore, resolved to push on, overtake his people, and insist upon having the
horse of Pierre Dorion sacrificed for the relief of all hands. Accordingly, he left two of
his men to help Crooks and Le Clerc on their way, giving them two of the beaver skins
for their support; the remaining skin he retained, as provision for himself and the three
other men who struck forward with him.