After this mishap, the Sergeant and Warren, who had been traveling along the river bank, keeping in contact with the boat party, were sent at once on their way, while Doane and his men dried out and rested. The boatmen fought their way down the river for the next two days, but on December 14 the boat was hauled high on the bank in an apparently secure place. The last of the horse meat had been eaten for breakfast, no food was left.

The following morning the bedding was stored away in rolls with the valise, high up among the rocks, and Doane’s party started,

... unarmed, without food, and in an unknown wilderness to find settlements (previously described by the trapper, Pierce) seven miles up on a stream which we had no positive assurance of being able to recognize when we came to its mouth.

That day the men waded the Salt River (near the present site of Alpine) having spent 7 days in the gloomy depths of the “Mad River Canyon.”

On December 16, they were moving at the break of day in bitterly cold weather, and about noon reached an ice bound creek which showed signs of placer washings. They assumed, correctly as it developed, that the settlements described by Pierce were on this tributary stream. Due to crusted snow they could make only about 1 mile an hour, but upon reaching the creek they walked on the ice, and were thus able to make better progress. Some distance upstream the creek forked, and the men took the left hand branch. By dark they had determined they were in error. They sheltered by a huge fire that night.

We slept a little but only to dream of bountifully set tables loaded with viands, all of which were abounding in fats and oils. What conservation there was turned entirely to matters pertaining to food. Davis talked incessantly on such subjects, giving all the minutest details of preparing roast, gravies, meat pies, suet puddings, pork preparations, oil dressings, cream custards, and so on, until Starr finally choked him off with the Otter experience. None of us felt the pangs of hunger physically. Our stomachs were cold and numb. We suffered less than for two days before, but there was a mental appetite, more active than ever. It was an agony to sleep. All the party evidenced the same mental conditions excepting Davis who was hungry clear through, sleeping or waking. One feeling we had in common. It can be found explained in Eugene Sue’s description of the Wandering Jew. We were impatient of rest, and all felt a constant impulse to “go on, go on,” continually. The men did not seem to court slumber, and Starr had an inexhaustible fund of his most mirth provoking stories which he never tired of telling. We listened, laughed, and sang. Afterward we tried to catch a couple of Beaver which splashed within a few feet of us all night long. Had not a firearm in the party and here was the fattest of good meat almost under our hands, enough to have fed us for two days.

With the first gray streaks of dawn they were again on their way, working over the ridge to the other fork of the creek which they reached a few hours later.

A couple of miles farther on we stopped to build a fire and warm ourselves. Davis showed signs of undue restlessness. We had to call him back from climbing the hillsides several times. While we were gathering wood for the fire, I found a section of sawed off timber blocks such as they use for the bottoms of flumes. It had been recently cut on one side with an axe. This satisfied me without farther evidence that the mines above were not old placers, now deserted. The men were not so sanguine, but were cheerful, and we soon moved on again. In a couple of hours we came to an old flume. Shortly after, Applegate declared he smelled the smoke of burning pine. In half an hour more we reached a miner’s cabin and were safe. We arrived at 3 pm. having been 80 hours without food in a temperature from 10 degrees to 40 degrees below zero, and after previously enduring privations as before detailed. Two old miners occupied the cabin and they were both at home, having returned from a little town above with a fresh stock of provisions. They at once produced some dry bread and made some weak tea, knowing well what to do. We had to force those things down. None of us felt hungry for anything but grease. About this time, to our unspeakable delight, Sergeant Server and Warren also arrived. They had passed the mouth of the creek on the 13th and gone below to the next stream which they had followed up fourteen miles without finding anything, and returning to meet us had found our trail and followed it, knowing that we had nothing to eat, while they had two horses and a mule with them. Mr. Bailey and his partner now gave us a bountiful supper of hot rolls, roast beef, and other substantial fare, and we all ate heartily in spite of our previous resolutions not to do so. Cold, dry bread had no charms, but hot and fatty food roused our stomachs to a realization that the season of famine was over. The change affected us severely. I had an attack of inflammation of the stomach which lasted several hours. All of the men suffered more or less, excepting Starr who seemed to be unaffected.

The next day the party moved upstream to the little town, Keenan City, which consisted of a store, saloon, post office, blacksmith shop, stable, and “a lot of miners’ cabins.” Doane found that they had followed McCoy Creek, and that the settlements were collectively known as the Caribou mining district. The Lieutenant records that his weight was down to 126 from a normal 190, and the others were similarly reduced.

A “jerky stage line” operated between Keenan City and the Eagle Rock Bridge on the Snake above Fort Hall, and Lieutenant Doane accordingly prepared the following telegram to be forwarded by the Post Adjutant at Fort Hall:

Commanding Officer, Fort Ellis, Montana. Arrived here yesterday. All well. Write today. Send mail to Fort Hall. (Signed) Doane.

It was the Lieutenant’s plan at this time to construct small sleds for the rations and bedding rolls, these to be drawn by the 2 horses and the mule left to the expedition, and thus proceed downriver to Fort Hall. All was in readiness by December 23, and the party set out, proceeding some 20 miles through Christmas Day. While in camp on the evening of December 26, voices were heard in the river bottom nearby, where a party of troops had just gone into camp.

It was Lieutenant Joseph Hall, 14th Infantry, with four men and a good little pack train. I shall never forget the puzzled expression on the face of this officer when he first met me. He conversed in monosyllables for a couple of minutes and then told us that he had been sent to arrest a party of deserters, half a dozen in number, which had been advertised for in the Montana papers, as having left Fort Ellis and were supposed to have gone through the Park and down Snake River. Thirty dollars each for apprehension and capture. The stage driver had read the papers it seems and denounced us to the Post Commander at Fort Hall. We first had a hearty laugh over the joke and he then placed himself and party at my disposal. We sat by the fire and talked nearly all night. (He was Post Adjutant at Fort Hall, and evidently knew something more than he felt at liberty to tell me, but he denounced Major Jas. S. Brisbin, 2d Cavalry, my Post Commander, in unmeasured terms, and told me that I was being made a victim of infamous treachery. This was a revelation but not a surprise.)[4]

Next day Sergeant Server and 4 men were sent with fresh animals to recover the boat and the bedding cached upriver. They returned the day following, reporting that it was only “fifteen miles by the trail on the other side of the river.” They brought with them the equipment but not the boat, which had been crushed to splinters by an ice jam which had piled up in masses 20 feet high.

This was a bitter disappointment as they found the river open all the way down, and we so found it afterwards below. Here was another strange occurrence. In exploring as in hunting there is an element of chance which cannot be provided against. No foresight will avail, no calculations will detect, no energy will overcome. Caution might prevent, but with caution no results will be obtained. Risks must be taken, and there is such an element in human affairs as fortune, good or bad. I decided at once to make all possible speed to Fort Hall, there refit and returning bring lumber to rebuild the boat on the ground where it had been lost, and continue to Eagle Rock Bridge on the Snake River, previously going back far enough beyond Jackson’s Lake to take a renewal of the system of triangulation and notes, lost in the river when the boat capsized. At Eagle Rock Bridge it would be necessary to rebuild the boat again in a different form and much larger, to run the heavy rapids of the lower rivers to Astoria, at the mouth of the great Columbia. The hardships and greater dangers we had already passed. With food for one day more we could have made the passage of “Mad River Canyon” despite the loss of all our weapons, instruments, and tools. We had run all the rapids but two, and these were easier than many others safely passed above. All the party enthusiastically endorsed this plan.

Lieutenant Doane was indeed a persevering and meticulously thorough individual, so much so that he not only planned to return to run the river from the point where he had been obliged to leave off, but to retrace his route to a point above Jackson Lake in order to bring his notes to completion. It is difficult to follow his thinking when he indicates his intention of running the Columbia to Astoria, since his orders were to “make exploration of Snake River from Yellowstone Lake to Columbia River.” His statement that the “greater dangers” had already been passed seems incompatible with the Hell’s Canyon of the Snake below, a section of the river about which Doane must have had some knowledge. Here indeed were “risks to be taken” with “bad fortune” certain, quite probably occurring beyond a point of no return.

The party continued on December 29 toward Fort Hall, with Doane’s journal describing in detail the route followed, the nature of the terrain, and the course of the river. They arrived at Fort Hall on January 4, having been met about half way between Fort Hall and the Eagle Rock Bridge by ambulances sent to bring them.

Captain Bainbridge, Commanding Officer at Fort Hall,

... received us with the greatest kindness, and everything possible was done for the comfort of myself and party, by all at the post.

There followed an exchange of communications between the Lieutenant and the Commanding Officer at Fort Ellis, Major Brisbin, with no reference therein to the charge of desertion. In the meantime, Doane records,

We put in time at Fort Hall preparing to get together materials for another boat, intending to renew the expedition from “Mad River Canyon.” Meantime I had made one of my Centenial Tents for Captain Bainbridge. While so engaged on the 8th of January, the following telegram came.

Dated Chicago, Ill. January 6, 1877 Received at Fort Hall, Idaho, January 8, 1877

To Commanding Officer, Fort Hall, Idaho

You will direct Lieut. Doane, Second Cavalry, with his escort to rejoin his proper station Fort Ellis, as soon as practicable. Acknowledge receipt.

R. C. Drum A. A. G.

That Doane was very bitter at this turn of events is indicated by subsequent entries in his journal.

This was the result. I simply note here an extract from Sergeant Server’s journal. The only one left us when the boat capsized. “Lt. Doane was very mad in consequence of our having to return, and so were all the men, but we tried to make the best of it.”

Over a year afterward I received the key to this mystery. And here it is. It will be observed that there is some little truth in it, and much that is false. And bear in mind that my letter and telegram from Keenan City were received on the 28th December, and that I had not yet been heard from at Eagle Rock or Fort Hall.

Fort Ellis, January 2, 1877

Telegram

To Assistant Adjutant General

Saint Paul, Minn.

I hear Doane lost all his horses, seven and mules, three, his boat and camp equipage, even to blankets; lived three weeks on horse meat straight; the last three days, before reaching the settlement, his party being without food of any kind. I recommend that he be ordered to his post for duty with his company.

(Signed) Brisbin

Commanding Post

Accordingly Doane and 4 men were returned to Fort Ellis by stage, arriving on January 20. Sergeant Server and White, leaving Fort Hall on January 12, “with the expedition’s baggage and the extra horse” arrived at Fort Ellis on February 2, bringing to a close the final stage of the exploration.

One last entry in Lieutenant Doane’s journal is worthy of mention.

In December, 1878, I was told by my commanding officer, Major Jas. S. Brisbin, that he had disapproved of the expedition from the beginning, and had worked to have me ordered back because I had not applied for the detail through him. I make no comment.

A careful study of the journal reveals statements that can be questioned in the light of later knowledge. The mellifluous descriptions, the references to “hundreds of otter,” and some other observations, together with the general tone of the document, may to some readers appear overdrawn. It must be borne in mind, however, that the journal was obviously written some time after Doane’s return to Fort Ellis, and from Server’s notes, since the Lieutenant’s records had been lost when the boat capsized on December 12. Server’s notes were probably sketchy at best, much of the writing then was done from memory. That the account is colored by some imagination and a desire to make a “good yarn” of it is probably true, but forgivable, particularly when one considers the usual tenor adopted by writers of that day.

However critical the reader’s opinion may be, it cannot be denied that here is an odyssey which defies comparison with any other record of winter exploration of the region. It was fortunate, beyond any reasonable doubt, that Doane’s expedition did not continue. That his party could have survived ultimate disaster in the Hell’s Canyon of the Snake is incomprehensible. That Doane, stubborn and fearless as he was, would have been turned back by any terrors the river threw at him is equally so. Doane was an explorer in every sense of the word, he was determined to overcome all obstacles, he was, in truth, a man “to ride the river with.”

Bibliography

Chittenden, Hiram Martin: The Yellowstone National Park, J. E. Haynes, Saint Paul, 1927.

Doane, G. C.: Expedition of 1876-1877, 44 pp. typed from original manuscript, Library, Grand Teton National Park.