OUT OF PROVISIONS—LIVE ON HORSE FLESH— ARRIVAL AT CARSON—START BACK FOR HOME—DESCRIPTION OF THE JOURNEY —AIDED BY RED MEN—MEET WITH MORE INDIANS—OUR MANNER OF DEALING WITH THEM. Three days after leaving our newly-made friends, the Indians, we were on a hard desert, where in one place we crossed a field of crystallized mineral of some kind, which had the appearance of ice, and rode our horses safely over it. That night, on the same desert, one of the fattest horses in the company failed and was left just before we had crossed the desert, and it was nearly morning when we camped. At daylight I sent for the horse to eat, as we were then out of provisions. The uninvited increase of the company had very small rations at starting, and when their food was exhausted I fed them until there was nothing left to eat for any of us, then we killed the horse and lived on its flesh for one week. Two days after killing the horse we were on another desert and traveled until far into the night, for we could see no end to the desert; and since living on horseflesh for food we crowded the animals to make the best time possible to get where better food could be had, and more water, for we found water scarce and both men and beasts were in a suffering condition. About 2 o'clock in the morning a stop was made to rest the animals, for they had neither food nor water for over twenty-four hours. The saddles were removed and the animals were turned loose in the desert, where neither bush, stick nor grass could be seen. Being loosened, the animals all began feeding on something, though we could see nothing. We set out a guard, as usual. In the morning we found the horses feeding on a weed or grass of a wine color, about four inches high, covering in area about eight acres, and nowhere else did we ever see any more of that kind of feed. We reached Carson on the 15th of October. We could not start back until word could be got to and from San Francisco. It was getting late in the season and we soon began to feel uneasy about the Winter snows we might encounter, but I had thought of this all the way and took such notes of the route as would enable me to recognize the way again even if the mountains should be covered with snow. I kept what sailors would call a "log book," in which was written a regular description of every landscape— certain shaped mountains here, a grove of cedars there, etc.; and at every turn of the road, consulted the compass, noting the various directions, and had some certain land-marks at each turn, with estimates of distances between points. While not otherwise engaged in Genoa, as it is now called, I made a map of the road we had traveled, noting every watering-place, desert, mountain, grove of timber, plot of grass, etc., not forgetting to mark my distances as well as the points of compass. While at Genoa, Natsab, the Indian, left me one night and started home on foot and alone and made his way in safety. It was a week before I found which way he had gone, and feared much that the Indians there had killed him. I saw him after I arrived home and asked his reason for leaving me without notice. He said he was afraid we would have to stay all Winter; and that if I had known he was going to leave I would stop him and make him stay too, and that was too long to live among the whites; he would have got sick and perhaps died. At last the word came from San Francisco, and a man also to go with us to Salt Lake, which was very acceptable. Col. Reece resolved to fit up two men besides himself and accompany me one or two hundred miles, just to explore the country; for of the route we were to take nothing was known by white men, and we were all enthusiastic to search the unexplored regions. On November 2, 1854, I started for home, with five animals for my own outfit of myself and the interpreter. Our through friend and partner for the trip back, Mr. Kinsey, had two horses, thus making seven well-loaded animals for three men to take care of. One large mule carried a keg of water as a reserve for times of distress. We each carried a canteen of water on our saddles as we rode; and several times our riding horses would, when our canteens were only partly full so that the water would sound as the motion of their bodies shook them, turned and hunted for the water and whinnyed coaxingly for a little sup of the water they had carried so long. Carson River, at which point Mr. Davis overtook us, sinks or empties into a lake of its own, which is about twenty miles across. Around the lake is a very flat and large extent of country, wet and marshy, which affords great quantities of a grass known as "bayonet grass;" this yields tufts or bunches of black, rich seed that the Indians manage to cut and dry and then thresh or pound out the seed for their Winter's bread. We saw many large-sized stacks of the remains of their threshing at their threshing-floors, which were mostly inaccessible to horses, being on small, dry places in the midst of the sodded marshes that yield the grass. After passing around the south end of the lake we crossed a low divide and entered a new valley some thirty miles from the lake. Where we entered this new desert valley was among rolling hills of sand blown up by the wind, some perhaps twenty feet high and covering from a half to a full acre of ground. In passing among these hills and valleys I saw the heads of two Indians who had not yet seen us. I took in the whole situation at a glance: a large alkali desert was before us in which was no water, while that we had in store was small and poor. Those Indians were not there without water being near, and if we could get them we could perhaps induce them to find or show us water. Our horses in the sand made no noise traveling, so we started at our best speed and soon overtook those whom we wanted as guides. They took us to water, though very reluctantly, and indeed not until they understood that they must do so. We would never have found the water of ourselves; for the spring was in the top of a little elevation that covered perhaps five acres in the center of a valley. The spring was round and perhaps five feet across. It gave a rapid supply of water, but had no visible outlet. The Indians had fenced it with tall greasewood brush stuck in the ground as thick as they could put it, except at an opening about eight inches wide which would permit rabbits to enter, where they were trapped. A pit about two and one-half feet deep was dug in this opening and a strong, wiry sand-grass was fastened on either side of the hole so that the ends would overlap at the center of the hole or pit, making apparent smooth floor. When a rabbit jumped on it went down into the pit, which had no water in it. The grass readily sprang back to its place and was prepared for another rabbit. This continued until the pit was full, for it was so narrow and deep there was no chance to jump out. Three similar pits, at a distance from the spring, was prepared for antelope. We camped here, used the greasewood for cooking supper and refreshed our horses. We kept the Indians all night with us so they could not notify others, who would perhaps prove dangerous. It was the intention to take them a day on the journey, but they escaped when we were not watching them. We traveled, after getting a full supply of water, all that day, all night and until 2 o'clock in the afternoon of the next day without any rest, except that got by stopping to eat and drink and tend the animals. This long journey was necessary in order to find grass and water. About half or three-quarters of a mile before coming to the water our animals began to crowd ahead—pull on the bit—which surprised us all, as there were no signs of water, such as willows, trees or grass, in sight to attract our attention, nothing but the smooth desert of small, short desert brush, with occasional fields of sage brush. Suddenly our animals stopped at a little, swift-running brook not more than two or three feet wide. Here we rested, watered and prepared for our journey. Towards evening we moved about two miles to some low sand hills, which generally afford an excellent grass called sand-grass. The next day we spent in trying to get more easterly over the mountains, but failed. The second day after watering we would gladly have passed through the range of mountains by a canyon; but thinking it impossible, had started on north again nearly a mile, when someone called behind us. On looking around we saw two Indians running towards us. We waited until they came up. They then enquired where we were going, and on being told, said we would all die if we continued in that direction for it was three days' travel to water. They led us to water in the mountains and stayed with us that night and were well pleased with their newly-made friends, but not more so than we were; for they seemed more like kind old friends, and in the parting got their full share of presents. On that camp ground I set the compass, but to my surprise one end of the needle dropped down and remained thus. Move the needle where I would it did the same. We were on a mountain of iron and probably some magnetic ore was near. The next day was the 12th of November, 1854, and by favor of one of these good red men we got through the mountains to a fine, large spring creek, and there camped. Now, who can deny the hand of the Lord and His power in sending these natives with softened hearts to call us from certain death and kindly bring us through to these beautiful springs? None of us did; even the Gentiles with us acknowledged His hand in that act of the savage Indian. The next morning, Col. Reece, with his two men, left us and turned south to explore three or four days in that direction and then turn westward on their course home. During this journey he made the very important discovery of the Reece River and country now so profitable to the State of Nevada. We continued our course east one day and a half, and then struck the southern extremity of our outward route, which was a very plain trail at that place and was just at the foot of a long slope approaching a high, rocky, rugged mountain, over which we had to pass. Indians and snow-storms were alike a dread to us to encounter; and the former were now before us when within about half a mile of the mouth of a very narrow, rocky canyon. They had the advantage of us, for they were nearest the rocks that overhung the road and were on the run in a half bent posture when first seen on the side of the mountain, but they straightened and sprang to the race right manfully when once in sight, until they were safe among the rocks, where they took positions of safety, only exposing their heads. We approached slowly, all the while consulting as to what was the best policy to pursue. We did not want to go around the mountain to the south, for of the distance we knew nothing, and to fight we were afraid; for numbers and position were against us, there being only four of us and seven we could see of them. Speaking of four of us reminds me that when eighty miles from Genoa, a man by the name of Davis came to us from California, having heard of the exploring party going to Salt Lake. He had a very large herd of sheep en route for California, which was obliged to Winter in Utah, and being anxious to join it he was willing to take chances with us. The most feasible plan now was to make friends of them with presents. This being decided upon we concluded to try it, and if it failed we must try to force a passage. We consoled ourselves with the saying, "a coward cornered is the worst man in the world to fight." By some means, however, we expected, by the help of the Lord, to get through. After talking and preaching to the natives half an hour or more the interpreter allured them down near us—so near that presents, small articles we had on our persons, were given them by one of us while the other three guarded against any treacherous surprise. They were then told to go with us to the top of the mountain, where we would camp for the night and we would there give them more valuable articles which were on the horse. They finally consented and told us to go on ahead; but feeling safer with their backs to us than ours to them we succeeded in having them take the lead. They were strong, fierce, desperate-looking men, and we did not care to give them any advantage over us, so we kept our eyes on them and our hands on our guns, even after we had camped at a nice spring in a large opening in the top of the mountain. Our greatest safety against these and other Indians that might be lurking around, was to take their bows and arrows into our possession, which we did very quietly after giving the promised gifts. They looked rather sorry at seeing themselves entirely in our power. For our future safety I thought it best to teach our neighbors a lesson in gun tactics, for we felt sure their knowledge of guns was limited to hearsay, they were so very wild and unacquainted with white men. My plan was as follows: I went into a narrow ravine well out of sight, cut a couple of leaves out of my memorandum book, doubled them, shot a hole through the center and then cut them in two. One of these I secretly gave to Mr. Kinsey. The interpreter and I then got into high words. The Indians wanted to know what we were talking about. He told them that I thought I could beat him shooting. They manifested much interest in the matter. I took a leaf from my book, folded and cut it exactly like the first and put it in the split of a stick about three feet long, gave this to Mr. Kinsey, all in plain view of the natives, and he put it up about one third of a mile off, but exchanged papers on the way and substituted the one with a hole in the center. The interpreter shot with a dragoon revolver and sent an Indian for the mark. He came back on the run and talking as hard as he could. The Indians all joined in the talk but superstitiously avoided touching the paper. I could not, of course, shoot better than that and therefore did not try; besides, it was getting dark. The following morning, which was the 17th of November, one of the natives volunteered to go with us, saying that he "lived over that way." He ran on foot by the side of our horses all day and we rode most of the time on the gallop. That night, about 1 o'clock, the Indian ran away from the guard— one man with gun in hand—and got clear with his life and two blankets that were not his. In the morning we found his tracks in the trail ahead of us and we were satisfied that evil was designed against us. We were but a day-and-a-half's ride from the south end of Ruby Valley, and two and one-half days' ride from the north end, where most of the Indians were. That day, at noon, we came to water on a high ridge, from which I could see a canyon pass through the mountains at the north end of Ruby Valley, which lay north by north-east from us, and the south end nearly east, leaving a great angle or elbow for us to make, which was an object to save. From one place only on this high ridge could be seen this low place in the distant mountains; and as soon as my eyes rested on it the idea was given me that we could get through that pass and save a great distance, and what else it might save I did not know, unless it was our hair. I at once informed the men of the gap in the mountains and my idea that it was best to travel that way; they agreed with me. We turned our horses that way and every one of us felt right sure then that in the plan was our safety. We traveled that afternoon and until perhaps 12 o'clock in the night and camped on a creek at the foot of the gap, probably ten miles from the top, where we made neither light nor noise. |