To-day our horses were quickly saddled and packed,
and we started off in the faint grey of the morning.
It was chilly, but the sky was beautifully clear.
When the sun had fairly risen, however, we had no
more cold to complain of. The way was exceedingly
difficult. We toiled along precipitous ravines
and gullies, and climbed up steep and rocky ridges,
which cut and wounded the feet of the horses, and rendered
our progress very slow. The timber we passed
was principally pine trees, with sharp pointed leaves
and large cones, and occasionally we came upon a grove
of evergreen oaks, more stunted in shape than was the
case in the lower regions. About mid-day we passed
the source of the Rio de las Plumas, or Feather River,
and after a most severe and in some respects forced
march climbed the last rocky ridge which separated
us from the Bear Valley. The sun was near its
setting as we pushed down the mountain slopes towards
the river. We found it a small stream flowing
swiftly over a shingly bed to the westward, and encamped
within hearing of its murmur, well pleased to have
performed our toilsome journey.
CHAPTER XVI.
A rest
A solitude
No gold to be found
An exploring party
Good fortune
Food and security
More cradles
A fortified shanty in preparation
A dessert after dinner
Dejection
Thoughts about home
No other gold-finders to be seen
Mormon trail
Salt Plain and the Great Salt Lake
A weary day’s journey without water
Saline exhalations
The inland sea and its desolate shores
A terrible whirlpool
The shanty finished
The trapper’s services retained
The camp visited by an Indian tribe
A friendly sign
The pipe of peace
A “trade” with the Indians
declined
Some depart and some remain
Provisions run short
Hunting expeditions
Something about a bear.
Sunday, July 30th.—We rested somewhat
late upon Saturday morning to make up for the fatigues
of the journey from Weber’s Creek. On surveying
the country we found ourselves in a perfect solitude.
Not an Indian, far less a white man, was to be seen.
The fertile valley of the Bear River—with
its luxuriant grass, in which nestled coveys of the
Californian quail—seemed almost untrodden
by human foot, and sloped in great beauty between
the ridges of rocky hills and peaks of granite, with
dark ravines and canones between, which hemmed it in.
Our first care was of course to try the capabilities
of the country in the way of gold. We therefore
separated ourselves, and sought different points of
the channel of the stream, and different chasms, which
in the winter time conducted the mountain torrents
into it.
