At this place they encamped for the night, and made a sumptuous repast upon fish and a couple of dogs, procured from their Indian neighbors.  The next day they kept along the river, but came to a halt after ten miles’ march, on account of the rain.  Here they again got a supply of fish and dogs from the natives; and two of the men were fortunate enough each to get a horse in exchange for a buffalo robe.  One of these men was Pierre Dorion, the half-breed interpreter, to whose suffering family the horse was a timely acquisition.  And here we cannot but notice the wonderful patience, perseverance, and hardihood of the Indian women, as exemplified in the conduct of the poor squaw of the interpreter.  She was now far advanced in her pregnancy, and had two children to take care of; one four, and the other two years of age.  The latter of course she had frequently to carry on her back, in addition to the burden usually imposed upon the squaw, yet she had borne all her hardships without a murmur, and throughout this weary and painful journey had kept pace with the best of the pedestrians.  Indeed on various occasions in the course of this enterprise, she displayed a force of character that won the respect and applause of the white men.

Mr. Hunt endeavored to gather some information from these Indians concerning the country and the course of the rivers.  His communications with them had to be by signs, and a few words which he had learnt, and of course were extremely vague.  All that he could learn from them was that the great river, the Columbia, was still far distant, but he could ascertain nothing as to the route he ought to take to arrive at it.  For the two following days they continued westward upwards of forty miles along the little stream, until they crossed it just before its junction with Snake River, which they found still running to the north.  Before them was a wintry-looking mountain covered with snow on all sides.

In three days more they made about seventy miles; fording two small rivers, the waters of which were very cold.  Provisions were extremely scarce; their chief sustenance was portable soup; a meagre diet for weary pedestrians.

On the 27th of November the river led them into the mountains through a rocky defile where there was scarcely room to pass.  They were frequently obliged to unload the horses to get them by the narrow places; and sometimes to wade through the water in getting round rocks and butting cliffs.  All their food this day was a beaver which they had caught the night before; by evening, the cravings of hunger were so sharp, and the prospect of any supply among the mountains so faint, that they had to kill one of the horses.  “The men,” says Mr. Hunt in his journal, “find the meat very good, and, indeed, so should I, were it not for the attachment I have to the animal.”

Early the following day, after proceeding ten miles to the north, they came to two lodges of Shoshonies, who seemed in nearly as great extremity as themselves, having just killed two horses for food.  They had no other provisions excepting the seed of a weed which they gather in great quantities, and pound fine.  It resembles hemp-seed.  Mr. Hunt purchased a bag of it, and also some small pieces of horse flesh, which he began to relish, pronouncing them “fat and tender.”