Chapter 29

Winter camp at the Portneuf Fine springs The Bannack

Indians Their honesty Captain Bonneville prepares for an

expedition Christmas The American Falls Wild scenery Fishing

Falls Snake Indians Scenery on the Bruneau View of volcanic

country from a mountain Powder River Shoshokoes, or Root

Diggers Their character, habits, habitations, dogs Vanity at its

last shift

IN ESTABLISHING his winter camp near the Portnenf, Captain

Bonneville had drawn off to some little distance from his Bannack

friends, to avoid all annoyance from their intimacy or

intrusions. In so doing, however, he had been obliged to take up

his quarters on the extreme edge of the flat land, where he was

encompassed with ice and snow, and had nothing better for his

horses to subsist on than wormwood. The Bannacks, on the

contrary, were encamped among fine springs of water, where there

was grass in abundance. Some of these springs gush out of the

earth in sufficient quantity to turn a mill; and furnish

beautiful streams, clear as crystal, and full of trout of a large

size, which may be seen darting about the transparent water.

Winter now set in regularly. The snow had fallen frequently, and

in large quantities, and covered the ground to a depth of a foot;

and the continued coldness of the weather prevented any thaw.

By degrees, a distrust which at first subsisted between the

Indians and the trappers, subsided, and gave way to mutual

confidence and good will. A few presents convinced the chiefs

that the white men were their friends; nor were the white men

wanting in proofs of the honesty and good faith of their savage

neighbors. Occasionally, the deep snow and the want of fodder

obliged them to turn their weakest horses out to roam in quest of

sustenance. If they at any time strayed to the camp of the

Bannacks, they were immediately brought back. It must be

confessed, however, that if the stray horse happened, by any

chance, to be in vigorous plight and good condition, though he

was equally sure to be returned by the honest Bannacks, yet it

was always after the lapse of several days, and in a very gaunt

and jaded state; and always with the remark that they had found

him a long way off. The uncharitable were apt to surmise that he

had, in the interim, been well used up in a buffalo hunt; but

those accustomed to Indian morality in the matter of horseflesh,

considered it a singular evidence of honesty that he should be

brought back at all.

Being convinced, therefore, from these, and other circumstances,

that his people were encamped in the neighborhood of a tribe as

honest as they were valiant, and satisfied that they would pass

their winter unmolested, Captain Bonneville prepared for a

reconnoitring expedition of great extent and peril. This was, to

penetrate to the Hudson's Bay establishments on the banks of the

Columbia, and to make himself acquainted with the country and the

Indian tribes; it being one part of his scheme to establish a

trading post somewhere on the lower part of the river, so as to

participate in the trade lost to the United States by the capture

of Astoria. This expedition would, of course, take him through

the Snake River country, and across the Blue Mountains, the

scenes of so much hardship and disaster to Hunt and Crooks, and

their Astorian bands, who first explored it, and he would have to

pass through it in the same frightful season, the depth of

winter.

The idea of risk and hardship, however, only served to stimulate

the adventurous spirit of the captain. He chose three companions

for his journey, put up a small stock of necessaries in the most

portable form, and selected five horses and mules for themselves

and their baggage. He proposed to rejoin his band in the early

part of March, at the winter encampment near the Portneuf. All

these arrangements being completed, he mounted his horse on

Christmas morning, and set off with his three comrades. They

halted a little beyond the Bannack camp, and made their Christmas

dinner, which, if not a very merry, was a very hearty one, after

which they resumed their journey.

They were obliged to travel slowly, to spare their horses; for

the snow had increased in depth to eighteen inches; and though

somewhat packed and frozen, was not sufficiently so to yield firm

footing. Their route lay to the west, down along the left side of

Snake River; and they were several days in reaching the first, or

American Falls. The banks of the river, for a considerable

distance, both above and below the falls, have a volcanic

character: masses of basaltic rock are piled one upon another;

the water makes its way through their broken chasms, boiling

through narrow channels, or pitching in beautiful cascades over

ridges of basaltic columns.

Beyond these falls, they came to a picturesque, but

inconsiderable stream, called the Cassie. It runs through a level

valley, about four miles wide, where the soil is good; but the

prevalent coldness and dryness of the climate is unfavorable to

vegetation. Near to this stream there is a small mountain of mica

slate, including garnets. Granite, in small blocks, is likewise

seen in this neighborhood, and white sandstone. From this river,

the travellers had a prospect of the snowy heights of the Salmon

River Mountains to the north; the nearest, at least fifty miles

distant.

In pursuing his course westward, Captain Bonneville generally

kept several miles from Snake River, crossing the heads of its

tributary streams; though he often found the open country so

encumbered by volcanic rocks, as to render travelling extremely

difficult. Whenever he approached Snake River, he found it

running through a broad chasm, with steep, perpendicular sides of

basaltic rock. After several days' travel across a level plain,

he came to a part of the river which filled him with astonishment

and admiration. As far as the eye could reach, the river was

walled in by perpendicular cliffs two hundred and fifty feet

high, beetling like dark and gloomy battlements, while blocks and

fragments lay in masses at their feet, in the midst of the

boiling and whirling current. Just above, the whole stream

pitched in one cascade above forty feet in height, with a

thundering sound, casting up a volume of spray that hung in the

air like a silver mist. These are called by some the Fishing

Falls, as the salmon are taken here in immense quantities. They

cannot get by these falls.

After encamping at this place all night, Captain Bonneville, at

sunrise, descended with his party through a narrow ravine, or

rather crevice, in the vast wall of basaltic rock which bordered

the river; this being the only mode, for many miles, of getting

to the margin of the stream.

The snow lay in a thin crust along the banks of the river, so

that their travelling was much more easy than it had been

hitherto. There were foot tracks, also, made by the natives,

which greatly facilitated their progress. Occasionally, they met

the inhabitants of this wild region; a timid race, and but

scantily provided with the necessaries of life. Their dress

consisted of a mantle about four feet square, formed of strips of

rabbit skins sewed together; this they hung over their shoulders,

in the ordinary Indian mode of wearing the blanket. Their weapons

were bows and arrows; the latter tipped with obsidian, which

abounds in the neighborhood. Their huts were shaped like

haystacks, and constructed of branches of willow covered with

long grass, so as to be warm and comfortable. Occasionally, they

were surrounded by small inclosures of wormwood, about three feet

high, which gave them a cottage-like appearance. Three or four of

these tenements were occasionally grouped together in some wild

and striking situation, and had a picturesque effect. Sometimes

they were in sufficient number to form a small hamlet. From these

people, Captain Bonneville's party frequently purchased salmon,

dried in an admirable manner, as were likewise the roes. This

seemed to be their prime article of food; but they were extremely

anxious to get buffalo meat in exchange.

The high walls and rocks, within which the travellers had been so

long inclosed, now occasionally presented openings, through which

they were enabled to ascend to the plain, and to cut off

considerable bends of the river.

Throughout the whole extent of this vast and singular chasm, the

scenery of the river is said to be of the most wild and romantic

character. The rocks present every variety of masses and

grouping. Numerous small streams come rushing and boiling through

narrow clefts and ravines: one of a considerable size issued from

the face of a precipice, within twenty-five feet of its summit;

and after running in nearly a horizontal line for about one

hundred feet, fell, by numerous small cascades, to the rocky bank

of the river.

In its career through this vast and singular defile, Snake River

is upward of three hundred yards wide, and as clear as spring

water. Sometimes it steals along with a tranquil and noiseless

course; at other times, for miles and miles, it dashes on in a

thousand rapids, wild and beautiful to the eye, and lulling the

ear with the soft tumult of plashing waters.

Many of the tributary streams of Snake River, rival it in the

wildness and picturesqueness of their scenery. That called the

Bruneau; is particularly cited. It runs through a tremendous

chasm, rather than a valley, extending upwards of a hundred and

fifty miles. You come upon it on a sudden, in traversing a level

plain. It seems as if you could throw a stone across from cliff

to cliff; yet, the valley is near two thousand feet deep: so that

the river looks like an inconsiderable stream. Basaltic rocks

rise perpendicularly, so that it is impossible to get from the

plain to the water, or from the river margin to the plain. The

current is bright and limpid. Hot springs are found on the

borders of this river. One bursts out of the cliffs forty feet

above the river, in a stream sufficient to turn a mill, and sends

up a cloud of vapor.

We find a characteristic picture of this volcanic region of

mountains and streams, furnished by the journal of Mr. Wyeth,

which lies before us; who ascended a peak in the neighborhood we

are describing. From this summit, the country, he says, appears

an indescribable chaos; the tops of the hills exhibit the same

strata as far as the eye can reach; and appear to have once

formed the level of the country; and the valleys to be formed by

the sinking of the earth, rather than the rising of the hills.

Through the deep cracks and chasms thus formed, the rivers and

brooks make their way, which renders it difficult to follow them.

All these basaltic channels are called cut rocks by the trappers.

Many of the mountain streams disappear in the plains; either

absorbed by their thirsty soil, and by the porous surface of the

lava, or swallowed up in gulfs and chasms.

On the 12th of January (1834), Captain Bonneville reached Powder

River; much the largest stream that he had seen since leaving the

Portneuf. He struck it about three miles above its entrance into

Snake River. Here he found himself above the lower narrows and

defiles of the latter river, and in an open and level country.

The natives now made their appearance in considerable numbers,

and evinced the most insatiable curiosity respecting the white

men; sitting in groups for hours together, exposed to the

bleakest winds, merely for the pleasure of gazing upon the

strangers, and watching every movement. These are of that branch

of the great Snake tribe called Shoshokoes, or Root Diggers, from

their subsisting, in a great measure, on the roots of the earth;

though they likewise take fish in great quantities, and hunt, in

a small way. They are, in general, very poor; destitute of most

of the comforts of life, and extremely indolent: but a mild,

inoffensive race. They differ, in many respects, from the other

branch of the Snake tribe, the Shoshonies; who possess horses,

are more roving and adventurous, and hunt the buffalo.

On the following day, as Captain Bonneville approached the mouth

of Powder River, he discovered at least a hundred families of

these Diggers, as they are familiarly called, assembled in one

place. The women and children kept at a distance, perched among

the rocks and cliffs; their eager curiosity being somewhat dashed

with fear. From their elevated posts, they scrutinized the

strangers with the most intense earnestness; regarding them with

almost as much awe as if they had been beings of a supernatural

order.

The men, however, were by no means so shy and reserved; but

importuned Captain Bonneville and his companions excessively by

their curiosity. Nothing escaped their notice; and any thing they

could lay their hands on underwent the most minute examination.

To get rid of such inquisitive neighbors, the travellers kept on

for a considerable distance, before they encamped for the night.

The country, hereabout, was generally level and sandy; producing

very little grass, but a considerable quantity of sage or

wormwood. The plains were diversified by isolated hills, all cut

off, as it were, about the same height, so as to have tabular

summits. In this they resembled the isolated hills of the great

prairies, east of the Rocky Mountains; especially those found on

the plains of the Arkansas.

The high precipices which had hitherto walled in the channel of

Snake River had now disappeared; and the banks were of the

ordinary height. It should be observed, that the great valleys or

plains, through which the Snake River wound its course, were

generally of great breadth, extending on each side from thirty to

forty miles; where the view was bounded by unbroken ridges of

mountains.

The travellers found but little snow in the neighborhood of

Powder River, though the weather continued intensely cold. They

learned a lesson, however, from their forlorn friends, the Root

Diggers, which they subsequently found of great service in their

wintry wanderings. They frequently observed them to be furnished

with long ropes, twisted from the bark of the wormwood. This they

used as a slow match, carrying it always lighted. Whenever they

wished to warm themselves, they would gather together a little

dry wormwood, apply the match, and in an instant produce a

cheering blaze.

Captain Bonneville gives a cheerless account of a village of

these Diggers, which he saw in crossing the plain below Powder

River. "They live," says he, "without any further protection from

the inclemency of the season, than a sort of break-weather, about

three feet high, composed of sage (or wormwood), and erected

around them in the shape of a half moon." Whenever he met with

them, however, they had always a large suite of half-starved

dogs: for these animals, in savage as well as in civilized life,

seem to be the concomitants of beggary.

These dogs, it must be allowed, were of more use than the beggary

curs of cities. The Indian children used them in hunting the

small game of the neighborhood, such as rabbits and prairie dogs;

in which mongrel kind of chase they acquitted themselves with

some credit.

Sometimes the Diggers aspire to nobler game, and succeed in

entrapping the antelope, the fleetest animal of the prairies. The

process by which this is effected is somewhat singular. When the

snow has disappeared, says Captain Bonneville, and the ground

become soft, the women go into the thickest fields of wormwood,

and pulling it up in great quantities, construct with it a hedge,

about three feet high, inclosing about a hundred acres. A single

opening is left for the admission of the game. This done, the

women conceal themselves behind the wormwood, and wait patiently

for the coming of the antelopes; which sometimes enter this

spacious trap in considerable numbers. As soon as they are in,

the women give the signal, and the men hasten to play their part.

But one of them enters the pen at a time; and, after chasing the

terrified animals round the inclosure, is relieved by one of his

companions. In this way the hunters take their turns, relieving

each other, and keeping up a continued pursuit by relays, without

fatigue to themselves. The poor antelopes, in the end, are so

wearied down, that the whole party of men enter and dispatch them

with clubs; not one escaping that has entered the inclosure. The

most curious circumstance in this chase is, that an animal so

fleet and agile as the antelope, and straining for its life,

should range round and round this fated inclosure, without

attempting to overleap the low barrier which surrounds it. Such,

however, is said to be the fact; and such their only mode of

hunting the antelope.

Notwithstanding the absence of all comfort and convenience in

their habitations, and the general squalidness of their

appearance, the Shoshokoes do not appear to be destitute of

ingenuity. They manufacture good ropes, and even a tolerably fine

thread, from a sort of weed found in their neighborhood; and

construct bowls and jugs out of a kind of basket-work formed from

small strips of wood plaited: these, by the aid of a little wax,

they render perfectly water tight. Beside the roots on which they

mainly depend for subsistence, they collect great quantities of

seed, of various kinds, beaten with one hand out of the tops of

the plants into wooden bowls held for that purpose. The seed thus

collected is winnowed and parched, and ground between two stones

into a kind of meal or flour; which, when mixed with water, forms

a very palatable paste or gruel.

Some of these people, more provident and industrious than the

rest, lay up a stock of dried salmon, and other fish, for winter:

with these, they were ready to traffic with the travellers for

any objects of utility in Indian life; giving a large quantity in

exchange for an awl, a knife, or a fish-hook. Others were in the

most abject state of want and starvation; and would even gather

up the fish-bones which the travellers threw away after a repast,

warm them over again at the fire, and pick them with the greatest

avidity.

The farther Captain Bonneville advanced into the country of these

Root Diggers, the more evidence he perceived of their rude and

forlorn condition. "They were destitute," says he, "of the

necessary covering to protect them from the weather; and seemed

to be in the most unsophisticated ignorance of any other

propriety or advantage in the use of clothing. One old dame had

absolutely nothing on her person but a thread round her neck,

from which was pendant a solitary bead."

What stage of human destitution, however, is too destitute for

vanity! Though these naked and forlorn-looking beings had neither

toilet to arrange, nor beauty to contemplate, their greatest

passion was for a mirror. It was a "great medicine," in their

eyes. The sight of one was sufficient, at any time, to throw them

into a paroxysm of eagerness and delight; and they were ready to

give anything they had for the smallest fragment in which they

might behold their squalid features. With this simple instance of

vanity, in its primitive but vigorous state, we shall close our

remarks on the Root Diggers.