art, and the passage expanded into a
plain, where again we found traces of an Indian encampment. There were
trees and bushes just before us, and we stopped here for an hour's rest
and refreshment. When we had finished our meal Raymond struck fire, and
lighting his pipe, sat down at the foot of a tree to smoke. For some
time I observed him puffing away with a face of unusual solemnity. Then
slowly taking the pipe from his lips, he looked up and remarked that we
had better not go any farther.
"Why not?" asked I.
He said that the country was becoming very dangerous, that we were
entering the range of the Snakes, Arapahoes and Grosventre Blackfeet,
and that if any of their wandering parties should meet us, it would cost
us our lives; but he added, with a blunt fidelity that nearly reconciled
me to his stupidity, that he would go anywhere I wished. I told him to
bring up the animals, and mounting them we proceeded again. I confess
that, as we moved forward, the prospect seemed but a dreary and doubtful
one. I would have given the world for my ordinary elasticity of body
and mind, and for a horse of such strength and spirit as the journey
required.
Closer and closer the rocks gathered round us, growing taller and
steeper, and pressing more and more upon our path. We entered at length
a defile which I never had seen rivaled. The mountain was cracked from
top to bottom, and we were creeping along the bottom of the fissure, in
dampness and gloom, with the clink of hoofs on the loose shingly rocks,
and the hoarse murmuring of a petulant brook which kept us company.
Sometimes the water, foaming among the stones, overspread the whole
narrow passage; sometimes, withdrawing to one side, it gave us room to
pass dry-shod. Looking up, we could see a narrow ribbon of bright blue
sky between the dark edges of the opposing cliffs. This did not last
long. The passage soon widened, and sunbeams found their way down,
flashing upon the black waters. The defile would spread out to many rods
in width; bushes, trees, and flowers would spring by the side of the
brook; the cliffs would be feathered with shrubbery, that clung in every
crevice, and fringed with trees, that grew along their sunny edges. Then
we would be moving again in the darkness. The passage seemed about four
miles long, and before we reached the end of it, the unshod hoofs of our
animals were lamentably broken, and their legs cut by the sharp stones.
Issuing from the mountai
|