A Race for Life—Colter Wins—The Missouri Fur Company—The American Fur Company—The Pacific Fur Company—A Great Project Foredoomed—Disaster at the Columbia Bar—The Destruction of the Tonquin—Hunt Starts for the Columbia Overland—The Voyageurs Baulked—The Caldron Linn—Dog Steak at a Premium—Misery and Danger—Success at Last.

The fine profits obtained by the British fur companies, combined with the information of the enormous numbers of beaver existing in the Rocky Mountains, brought back by Lewis and Clark and the trappers who had followed at their heels, gave a sudden impetus to the movement of Americans into the new Louisiana acquisition. The expedition of Pike had marked the trail to Santa FÉ and indicated possibilities of profitable overland trade with New Mexico when the Spanish Government should modify its restrictions. Notwithstanding, therefore, that nobody knew just where Spanish territory began and where that of the United States ended, American hunters and trappers crossed into the Wilderness by scores. Even the sparsely settled districts of the Ohio valley proved irksome to them, and in the lead was the veteran Daniel Boone, who with fourscore years upon him turned his back upon the land he had done so much to win, and settled at La Charette, the French village beyond St. Louis.

And St. Louis, half Spanish, half French, had now become part American. Being the point of departure for all parts of the Wilderness, even the region of the upper Missouri, to which attention was now mainly directed, it began every day to increase in size and importance. Maxent, La Clede, and Company were operating from this point before the cession to the United States, and so was the artful and slippery Manuel Lisa, who was believed to have no liking for Americans, or for any other competitors, and who, justly or unjustly, was looked upon with suspicion by every trapper who ventured up the river. Lisa annually sent trading parties in that direction, and in 1807 he made the journey himself. Perhaps he was no worse than the other traders, every one of whom was striving to thwart the success of rivals. He was about thirty-five years old, and in cunning and business intrigue a match for the keenest. In these respects he was the opposite of another noted character of the time, Auguste Choteau, a French creole, whose integrity and agreeable personality made him as much liked as Lisa was mistrusted. On Lisa's trip up the river he seems to have had with him the trapper Potts, who had been one of the Lewis and Clark party; and later he employed another of that party, Colter, who had obtained his release from Lewis on the return trip when they met Dixon and Hancock.

Colter and Potts were sent trapping in the Blackfoot country. These people were in a revengeful mood because of the fatal encounter with Lewis on Maria's River, and Colter and Potts were on the alert to elude them, but they were discovered. As they pushed their canoe into the stream, an arrow struck Potts. He then fired and killed a man. Instantly he was riddled by arrows. Colter made no resistance. He was taken on shore and stripped. They thought of setting him up as a target, but the chief gave him a chance for his life, which indicates that they were not in so ferocious a temper as has been assumed, for had they been bent on blood atonement for the deaths on Maria's River they would have given Colter no chance at all. They were willing to make a game of it. The chance that was given was to lead the captive out on the prairie, about four hundred yards in advance of the band, and let him go to save himself if he could. They did not shoot at him. It was to be a pure test of speed. Colter ran fast, for he was a good runner and life was the prize. Only one pursuer gained. He drew nearer and nearer. Colter stopped, turned round, and threw up his hands. The blood, owing to his severe exertion, had flowed from his nostrils and covered his body, making a startling spectacle. The Blackfoot, surprised, tried to halt and throw his spear, but exhausted, he fell, breaking the spear as he went down. Colter thrust the sharp point into the man's heart, and rushed on for Jefferson River. This he reached while the Blackfeet stopped at their fallen comrade, and plunging in he swam to an island, dived under a large pile of driftwood, and raised his head above water amidst the sticks. The pursuers mounted the pile and ranged, the whole island all day long, but it did not occur to them to dive in the search. Night fell. All grew quiet. Colter swam gently down a long distance, and then started for Lisa's fort, where, after seven days' hard travel and exposure, he arrived.

Lisa went back to St. Louis the next year, 1808, but Colter remained till 1810. He passed through the geyser region of the Yellowstone, and is said to have been the first white man to go there. Inasmuch, however, as the Yellowstone was named before Lewis and Clark made their journey, and by Frenchmen, it seems probable that these same Frenchmen had visited the geyser region. They certainly were at the great canyon, for, as before noted, they would not otherwise have applied the name Yellowstone. Colter, therefore, more exactly may be said to have been the first American in the geyser basin. When he arrived at St. Louis again, he met there the English naturalist Bradbury, who printed the story of his race for life in the book he wrote, from which it has been transcribed many times. As it was a famous incident, I venture to give it again in a much condensed form.[75]

About this time Henry, one of Lisa's trappers, being obliged to abandon his post at the three forks, because of the hostility of the Blackfeet, passed over to the headwaters of the Snake and built a trading-post there, the very first establishment by an American on the Pacific slope, excepting Fort Clatsop, of Lewis and Clark, at the mouth of the Columbia. This fort of Henry's was built about three years later than the one Fraser founded for the North-west Company near latitude 54.

The shrewd Lisa perceived that power was necessary in the fur business to secure the greatest profit, and as this required combination, he established, in the winter of 1808-09, the Missouri Fur Company, with William Morrison as one of the partners. At almost the same moment, a keen business man of New York, John Jacob Astor, obtained a charter from the State of New York for the American Fur Company. Encountering the rivalry of the Mackinaw Company, he arranged with some of the members of the North-west Company to buy it out, and they obtained possession in 1811. Meanwhile, the possibilities of the North-west and the region traversed by Lewis and Clark appealed to Astor's business sense, and in 1810 he organised another company to operate from the mouth of the Columbia, called the Pacific Fur Company. His plan was to establish a line of trading-posts along the Missouri and Columbia to the Pacific, where, at the mouth of the Columbia, a chief station was to be maintained, to receive furs and distribute supplies. An annual ship was to keep this post in touch with New York. The scheme was entirely feasible, but in the execution of it every circumstance appeared to conspire for defeat. Some enterprises float easily across every obstacle, while others seem to create barriers which grow to enormous proportions.

When Fraser established his post west of the Rocky Mountains in 1806, it was intended that he should move down and explore all the country to the southward. Later another party was dispatched under David Thompson especially to forestall Astor's people at the mouth of the Columbia. Astor, himself, endeavoured to conciliate the British companies by offering them a third interest in his Pacific Company, but they declined. He next engaged a number of North-west men for his enterprise, to gain the advantage of their experience, but in this he seems to have made a mistake. As Great Britain and the United States were on the verge of war, it would have been better if the concern had been made purely American. In prominent positions there were only two citizens of the Republic: Wilson Price Hunt, of New Jersey, chief agent; and Jonathan Thorn, a lieutenant of the United States Navy, on leave to command the first supply ship, the Tonquin, a vessel doomed to strange destruction. The new company organised on June 23, 1810, Astor holding one half of the hundred shares, while the other half was distributed among the several partners. Hunt was to go overland and remain at the chief station five years.[76]

Some of the partners were to go by the Tonquin. These were all British subjects, Scotchmen. There were, besides, mechanics, and thirteen voyageurs, the latter coming down from Canada in a birch-bark canoe by way of Lake Champlain and the Hudson, singing gaily as they came. Could they have foreseen the future, the song would have died in their throats. Of all the expeditions ever set on foot, this one, perhaps, met with the most continuous disaster. Although well planned, the Fates appeared to be opposed in this direction to Astor's success. The British had an eye on it and intended to baulk it if they could. For one thing they meant to stop the Tonquin and impress the voyageurs, which they thought would cripple the enterprise. The Constitution, the ship soon to make its name forever famous, was sent for some distance as a convoy, but nothing happened except that the voyageurs became seasick, and the foreign partners and Captain Thorn failed to harmonise. Thorn looked upon them with suspicion, and did not conceal his opinion that they were working against the company's interests. He particularly disliked McDougall who was next to Hunt in authority.

Thorn was a capable officer on the high seas, and he sailed the Tonquin successfully from the starting day, September 10, 1810, to that on which he arrived at the mouth of the Columbia, March 22, 1811. Then he seems to have lost his caution. Instead of lying off to wait for favourable weather to run the breakers, he immediately ordered chief mate Fox, a seaman, John Martin, and three voyageurs, notwithstanding Fox's protest and that of the partners, to reconnoitre the entrance in a small boat. They were never seen again. The wind abating, two days later the ship anchored under Cape Disappointment. Search was made for the missing men, but with no result. The Tonquin then approached the bar, but the captain was afraid to run through, and sent the second mate in the pinnace to pilot the way. He was nearly lost. Another attempt was made, but the ship struck on the bar repeatedly, and the waves broke over her. The pinnace, which had again attempted to pilot, was swept away with five men on board, while the ship, in great danger of complete wreck, came to anchor in seven fathoms. At last they got under Cape Disappointment once more, and were safe. On searching the coast for the lost men of the pinnace, only two were found. Thus eight lives were sacrificed to the bull-headedness of this crusty captain. It was a full measure of what was in store for the ill-fated enterprise. Had Thorn used a small amount of common sense, he could have passed the bar without losing a man.

At length the Tonquin was inside, and after much wrangling between the captain and the foreign partners, a settlement was begun on what they called Point George. To this the name Astoria was given in honour of the head of the company. When the supplies had been landed, the Tonquin went up the coast to trade, with McKay to direct. Against the advice of the interpreter, a native from down the coast, they anchored in Neweetee Bay on the southern end of Vancouver Island. McKay went ashore and was well received, for six natives were held on board as hostages. The people of this bay had a bad reputation, which perhaps means that they saw through the game of the traders. Great numbers came the following morning to trade and as they sought high prices, doubtless one per cent. of real value, Thorn grew angry and threw the chief overboard. When McKay returned, the interpreter urged immediate departure, but Thorn scorned his advice. Astor had particularly instructed not to allow many natives on board at one time, but this was ignored. Next morning they came again with their furs; canoe after canoe arrived till the deck was thronged. The captain saw indications of trouble. He ordered men aloft to make sail while others weighed anchor. The natives were eager to trade, especially for knives, and they quickly obtained a great many, so that when the command was given to clear ship, they uttered a yell and fell upon the unprepared crew.

Thorn fought desperately, for he was no coward, and though he had only a clasp knife, he killed several before a blow from behind laid him low forever. Four of the men aloft succeeded in gaining the cabin alive and speedily cleared the deck with the muskets that were there. All the rest of the day the natives kept off. The ship's clerk, Lewis, was one of the first struck, and he had fallen down the hatchway with a serious wound. He recovered sufficiently to discuss the situation with the four other survivors. The latter would not attempt to sail the ship, as they thought they could not get her out of the bay, so they put off in the night in one of the boats. Lewis, it is said, declined to go on account of his wound, thinking he would die soon anyhow. He therefore made a plan for revenge. He arranged the powder so that he could instantly explode it, and when the fair morning sun again shone on the bay he stood on the deck and beckoned to some natives to come aboard. As he was the only one to be seen, they finally climbed up the Tonquin's sides. The decks were presently again thickly crowded, all eager to secure the rich prizes. At this moment Lewis executed his intention. The waters of the bay were strewn with wreckage intermingled with dead and dying. A hundred or more were annihilated and another grewsome tale was added to the long list describing the intercourse between the opposing factions for the mastery of the Wilderness. The four men were prevented from leaving the bay by stress of weather, and took refuge in a cove for shelter, where they were captured and taken back to the village. They were sacrificed with every cruelty known to the enraged natives. Thus ended the first trading venture of the Pacific Fur Company.

Before the Tonquin left Astoria, the party arrived from the upper Columbia under command of David Thompson of the North-west Company,—the expedition designed to forestall the American settlement at this point, but it was a little too late. Thompson had accomplished the first descent of the Columbia above Snake River. He was well received by his compatriots, especially by McDougall, who was in charge pending Hunt's arrival. McDougall did not conceal his devotion to the British Crown, and it was this which so exasperated Captain Thorn. Thompson finally left, returning by the road he had come. He was astronomer and geographer of the North-west Company, and made notes that are of great value.[77]

Meanwhile Hunt was bravely setting in motion a second train of disasters. With Donald McKenzie, another of the foreign partners, he went in June, 1810, to Montreal, the great fur-trading centre, and secured canoes and voyageurs for the overland journey. The party proceeded by way of the Ottawa River, Mackinaw, Green Bay, Fox River, the Wisconsin, and the Mississippi to St. Louis, the route that had been the first from the east into the Mississippi Wilderness, and which had been a highway ever since. Lisa's Missouri Fur Company was at this time fitting out an expedition to go in search of Henry, who, as already mentioned, had been driven from his station at the forks of the Missouri, and Lisa was in doubt as to his whereabouts. The Spaniard looked with disfavour on the new rival, but this was no more than all the fur traders were in the habit of doing. He did what he could to check the enterprise without open hostility, but Hunt's plans progressed, nevertheless, and he soon had his affairs in order. Bradbury, an English naturalist, had been for some time making St. Louis headquarters, and was desirous of going up the Missouri for specimens. Hunt at once cordially invited him and another English naturalist, Nuttall, to accompany him as far as they wished to go. Bradbury afterwards wrote the book which is now so well known, and which throws a valuable side-light on the starting of Hunt's party. He also tells much about the natives, of whom he remarks, "No people on earth discharge the duties of hospitality with more cordial good-will."

On the 21st of October, 1810, Hunt left St. Louis with the intention of wintering not far up the river, and in the spring following the trail of Lewis and Clark to the mouth of the Columbia. He had three boats, two being barges, and the third a "keel" boat. The winter camp was made at the mouth of the Nadowa, where several new men joined the ranks, notwithstanding that it was considered a rather desperate venture. About the end of April, 1811, all being ready, the party started up the muddy Missouri with four boats, one of which mounted a swivel and two howitzers. The number of persons in the company now amounted to sixty, almost too many for success. Forty of these were Canadian voyageurs, who, while exceedingly useful in their sphere of boatmen, were not so serviceable away from their craft, just as a good sailor is out of his element on horseback. But in those days no fur trader thought of travelling without them, and the North-west and Hudson Bay Companies employed them by hundreds. The rivers west of the Rocky Mountains, however, were entirely different from those flowing from the eastern slopes. Had Hunt been aware of this, he would have sent his forty voyageurs back, before crossing the mountains, where their peculiar abilities were of less advantage. Indeed, had it not been for the idea of utilising them, it is likely that the story of this traverse would have been less painful.

Little trouble was experienced from natives, although the latter had now been shot and cheated for a sufficient time to render them dangerous. Alexander Carson, now with Hunt, was the man who had shot a Sioux not long before, just to try his skill. Some tribes, too, wished to injure others by preventing traders from reaching them, thus compelling manufactured articles to pass through their own hands, whereby they made a profit. This was a cause of some difficulty. In addition, the rival fur companies used means, honourable and dishonourable, to injure each other, and they sometimes had serious battles. They would also incite against newcomers natives with whom they had traded, and this was a frequent source of disaster. Two men with Hunt, Ramsay Crooks and McClellan, believed that Lisa in this way had induced the Sioux a couple of years before, to thwart their plans, and McClellan was still incensed to such a degree that he declared he would shoot Lisa on sight. As the latter diplomatic gentleman was also bound up the river a few days behind Hunt, and had sent word that he would like to travel with him to strengthen both parties, the outlook was precarious. The whole party were suspicious of Lisa's motives, and Hunt endeavoured to keep in advance. His chief interpreter, Pierre Dorion, a son of the Dorion who had gone with Lewis and Clark for a time, had been in Lisa's employ, and there was a fierce disagreement between them as to certain large amounts of whiskey which Dorion had imbibed, and which Lisa had modestly charged against him at ten dollars a quart. The Spaniard had a barge manned by twenty expert boatmen, and he knew the river. It was therefore only a few days before he overtook the Hunt party. With him was Henry Brackenridge, who later wrote a valuable book, and this man with Bradbury and Nuttall laboured as peace preservers, and though Dorion and Lisa had a dramatic scene, with McClellan ever ready to exterminate the perfidious Lisa on the spot, there was no bloodshed. To make matters worse, Lisa used towards Hunt an expression that roused his ire, so that for a day or two the rival crews barely spoke. At last, however, the Hunt people decided that Lisa was bent on no immediate mischief, and amicable relations were established.

Arriving at an Arikara village, some distance below the Mandan towns, Hunt began preparations to leave the river and strike across the country, thus abandoning the trail of Lewis and Clark. He was induced to take this step by three trappers he had met and employed, Robinson, Hoback, and Rizner, who had been in the country at the head of the Missouri. The change was a good one, and had Hunt dispensed with the voyageurs at this point, he would have clung to his horses all the way, which would have saved much time and suffering, but he took the boatmen along, though he exchanged the boats with Lisa for horses, of which the latter had a supply at his fort at the Mandan towns. Thither Crooks and Bradbury went to bring them down. Meanwhile the voyageurs fraternised with the Arikaras and were particularly devoted to the women, whose temporary favours were readily purchased. Bradbury says: "Travellers who have been acquainted with savages have remarked that they are either very liberal of their women to strangers or extremely jealous. In this species of liberality no nation can be exceeded by the Arikaras, who flocked down every evening with their wives, sisters, and daughters, each anxious to meet with a market for them." And yet if a white man adopted regular relations they expected him to continue them, and not abandon his wife as was so often done. Their code was a peculiar one.

Bradbury and Nuttall here left the Hunt party and returned, while on the 18th of July, 1811, the Astorians, having also said good-bye to Lisa, who had been of more service than detriment, turned their faces toward the Backbone of the Continent. A man named Rose was engaged, with the expectation that he would be serviceable in the Crow country, as he had been a good deal with that tribe, but Hunt discovered indications of treachery, and was glad on reaching the Crows to pay Rose off and let him depart. Crossing the Black Hills, and the Bighorn Mountains, they kept up the Bighorn to Wind River, and on the 14th of September camped at a place where a large fork came down from the Wind River Mountains. It will be noticed that mountains and streams were already named, showing that white men had frequently been in this region. In fact, the trappers with Hunt knew it pretty well, and told him that if he followed up Wind River and crossed a single mountain range he would be on the headwaters of the Columbia, but game being scarce, he decided to go to another stream which they said flowed to the south of west beyond the Wind River range. This was Spanish River, now the Green, the upper continuation of the Colorado. They found a beaten trail leading that way and followed it over some very high ground whence the trappers pointed out the Three Tetons. These magnificent peaks Hunt called the Pilot Knobs! They were hailed with joy, for they marked the end of the first stage of the journey, but had the party been able to look ahead their joy would have collapsed in tears. Descending into Green River Valley, afterwards famous as the place of rendezvous for trappers, they found it delightful, with grassy glades and plenty of buffalo, as well as other game.

This was a crucial point for Hunt. Had he decided to stick to his horses till he was sure of the navigation, the party would have escaped much misery, but instead of camping here, amidst plenty of game, till the path could be reconnoitred, he stopped only five days to lay in a supply of buffalo meat and then went on. Winter with rapid strides was approaching, yet they would have gained time by tarrying here, with scouts thrown ahead. But they moved without knowing what to expect. Hoback had been on the headwaters of the Snake and he led them by way of a small stream they called Hoback's River to a large branch. This, because of its rapid and fierce current, was named Mad River. The voyageurs were tired enough of horses, and were eager to sail down on this impetuous tide, so, without even scouting beforehand, trees were felled to make canoes. Several men were then sent down the stream, but before they returned two Snakes came along and informed them that navigation was impossible. When the men came back they gave the same report. Here was a chance to find out much concerning the region before them, but no attempt seems to have been made. Robinson, Hoback, and Rizner, who had been with Henry, of the Missouri Company, now advised going to Henry's post, to which the Snakes were quite willing to guide them. After four days' travel they reached it amid a flurry of snow.

Henry had gone, but they were glad to occupy the deserted cabins. The stream they were now on was large and swift, probably the main Snake River, and the fatal canoe idea cropped up again.[78] Timber was felled and boats soon completed. One advantage of travelling with horses Hunt seems now to have lost sight of: they can always be consumed as food. But Hunt decided to leave them here, and to establish the first of the trading-posts. The two Snakes were hired to look after their welfare. Four trappers had been dropped to begin work on Mad River, and now five more were left at this place to go into the mountains.

Fifteen canoes having been completed, the expedition pushed off on October 16th, and swept rapidly down the stream all unknown. For some fifty miles affairs went well. Then the river began to plunge among rocks, two canoes were swamped, one of them smashed, and a large portion of the cargoes swept away. They continued with great labour, and on the 28th met with a sad disaster. The canoe of Ramsay Crooks struck a rock in one of the rapids and was capsized. Four men, including Crooks, managed to save themselves, but the fifth, Clappine, an expert voyageur, was dashed away in the torrent and lost. This was at the beginning of a very bad stretch of river, hemmed in for miles by high cliffs of several hundred feet, so foaming and torrential that they named it the Caldron Linn. The country was excessively barren. The provisions had dwindled to no more than five days' supply. The situation was desperate. In these straits it was decided to split up into small parties, which should set out in different directions, the idea being that it would be easier thus to obtain subsistence. One party went down the river, Crooks with five others started back toward Fort Henry to get the horses, and another under McKenzie went north.

With Hunt there remained thirty-four persons, three being Dorion's squaw and her two children, aged two and four. Like Sacajawea, on the Lewis and Clark expedition, she was a sturdy and uncomplaining traveller, resourceful and resolute. The goods were cached at Caldron Linn, which consumed three days, and then Crooks and his men came back discouraged about reaching the place where the horses had been left. Without these, and with no chance of using the river, progress toward the mouth of the Columbia would be slow. They were not only breaking the Wilderness, but they were doing it in the hardest possible way. Hunt followed the stream for a time and then on the advice of some natives he led the party across the desert country to the northward. As one to-day, even under favourable circumstances, rides over the wide waste of lava-covered plain lying north of the Snake, he cannot fail to be impressed by the sweep of giant snowy ranges that encircle the horizon. To Hunt, these gleaming barriers must have presented a deeply sinister aspect. His party was on the verge of starvation, when they arrived at a little river where there was a Shoshone camp. Here some fish and a couple of dogs were bought, enough to give them a supper. They also secured a couple of horses, and then went on. At last they tried to leave the river, but returned to it again after severe climbing through deep snow, and next day met Crooks and his men on the point of starvation coming up stream. Hunt had traded for a couple more horses with some Shoshones, and one of these he now killed, making a hasty canoe out of the skin with which to send Crooks some of the meat. Crooks came over in the boat, and reported that his party had been reduced to some soles of old moccasins for food. Hunt now decided to go back up the river in search of a Snake camp, where they might barter for more horses and dogs, but a new difficulty appeared. Crooks and one other were so feeble they could not travel. The party wished to leave them but Hunt refused to do this. Five stayed with him and the rest left. The stock of provisions finally dwindled to three beaver skins, and taking one of these Hunt at last pushed on to overtake those who had gone in order that he might persuade Dorion, who now had the only horse, a bony creature, to sacrifice it for the benefit of Crooks. But Dorion pleaded for the animal and they went ahead a little farther, when they surprised a Snake camp, where a number of horses were grazing. The natives ran, and the whites seized five of the horses and soon were devouring one, while a messenger was hurried back to Crooks with some of the meat on another.

Some of Crooks's party were across the river in a starving condition and could see and hear distinctly. When Crooks came he sent meat over to them, and one voyageur jumped wildly into the frail skin canoe to return. When he came near the shore, the sight of the roasting meat caused him to deliriously clap his hands and dance, which operation upset the canoe and the poor fellow disappeared in the furious current. The boatman was saved with difficulty. John Day, who had been one of the strongest, was now a mere skeleton, barely able to walk, and all were extremely emaciated. About December 15th, they arrived at a little creek which they had crossed on the 26th of November, and here discovered a dozen Shoshone lodges, and on up the stream were more. Hunt traded for a couple of horses, a dog, and some dried fish and roots. From these natives he tried to secure a guide, but they urged him to remain with them, though at last one consented to go for large pay.

On December 21st they went down the creek to Snake River, and down this a short distance in search of some rafts. These were not found and two horses were killed to make a canoe out of their skins. The river was full of floating ice, and the frail canoe gave them much trouble, but on December 23d, breaking the shore ice, they succeeded in crossing. Crooks's party were waiting for them, and they all moved forward together, under the guidance of the native and two of his companions. The voyageurs were happy to say farewell to this perilous stream, so unlike any they had ever seen before.

The ground was snow covered, the weather stormy, but fortified by a meal of horse meat once in twenty-four hours, they moved on toward the Blue Mountains, a superb range which one sees well from the railway now crossing the north-east corner of Oregon about on the trail that Hunt was following. On the 29th, Pierre Dorion was made a father, and his squaw had three children in place of the two she had thus far dragged through all the difficulties. Dorion's horse now came into full service for the transportation of this increased family. One of the voyageurs, La Bonte, here gave out, and had to take to another horse which had been packed, Hunt himself carrying the load. This La Bonte seems to be the same that Ruxton[79] afterwards wrote about. On the last day of the year they came to a wide valley without snow and here camped for New Year's Day, 1812, and as much revelry as possible was indulged in. Some Shoshone tipis being nearby, they did not lack for dog and horse steaks, and began to feel in better mood. They finally crossed the Blue Mountains and descended into the valley of the Umatilla, where there was no snow, and the weather was mild, for they were approaching sea level. Dorion's infant now died, but there was no halt on this account. All pressed on, encouraged by sights of deer and of horse tracks, till they came to a large camp of Sciatogas, or Tushepaws, where there was plenty of everything they needed, with at least two thousand horses grazing on the hills. Hunt was now but two days' march from the Columbia. Horses were cheap and the men ate their fill, though these Amerinds did not eat horses or dogs. Proceeding they came at last to the Columbia, having occupied six months in traversing the Wilderness from the Arikara village. Had they stuck to their horses, they might have done it in four. Part of this wide stretch had been entirely unknown to white men, and Hunt's expedition, therefore, as an American exploration, ranks second to that of Lewis and Clark, while in its bearing on the future of that great unclaimed region then known as Oregon, it stands on an equal footing. It was also the third traverse of the North American continent above Mexico; and it was the beginning of the Oregon Trail.

Keeping down the north bank they began to hear news of the Astoria establishment, and then of the loss of the Tonquin. The people by the way were well posted on these matters, although they had no newspaper. Purchasing canoes, the Hunt party ran down on the current, and on February 15, 1812, they came in sight of Astoria, the goal they had so long and so strenuously struggled to reach. McKenzie was already there, having beaten Hunt by a full month. All the chief men of the party, except Crooks, were now once more together. It therefore seemed that the Astoria enterprise was about to bloom into success, but more trouble was in store for it.