rn caste
called the Shuckers, or Diggers, made his appearance at the camp. He
came from some lurking-place among the rocks and cliffs, and presented
a picture of that famishing wretchedness to which these lonely fugitives
among the mountains are sometimes reduced. Having received wherewithal
to allay his hunger, he disappeared, but in the course of a day or two
returned to the camp, bringing with him his son, a miserable boy,
still more naked and forlorn than himself. Food was given to both;
they skulked about the camp like hungry hounds, seeking what they might
devour, and having gathered up the feet and entrails of some beavers
that were lying about, slunk off with them to their den among the rocks.

By the 18th of October, fifteen canoes were completed, and on the
following day the party embarked with their effects; leaving their
horses grazing about the banks, and trusting to the honesty of the two
Snakes, and some special turn of good luck for their future recovery.

The current bore them along at a rapid rate; the light spirits of the
Canadian voyageurs, which had occasionally flagged upon land, rose to
their accustomed buoyancy on finding themselves again upon the water.
They wielded their paddles with their wonted dexterity, and for the
first time made the mountains echo with their favorite boat songs.

In the course of the day the little squadron arrived at the confluence
of Henry and Mad Rivers, which, thus united, swelled into a beautiful
stream of a light pea-green color, navigable for boats of any size,
and which, from the place of junction, took the name of Snake River, a
stream doomed to be the scene of much disaster to the travellers.
The banks were here and there fringed with willow thickets and small
cotton-wood trees. The weather was cold, and it snowed all day, and
great flocks of ducks and geese, sporting in the water or streaming
through the air, gave token that winter was at hand; yet the hearts of
the travellers were light, and, as they glided down the little river,
they flattered themselves with the hope of soon reaching the Columbia.
After making thirty miles in a southerly direction, they encamped for
the night in a neighborhood which required some little vigilance, as
there were recent traces of grizzly bears among the thickets.

On the following day the river increased in width and beauty; flowing
parallel to a range of mountains on the left, which at times were finely
reflected in its li