However, Oliver saw Kit Carson wink at the lieutenant and Lucien Maxwell, as the speech reached them, and it was evident that these three leaders did not believe the Indian tales. Consequently he himself decided that the reports of “evil spirits” awaiting were all bosh.
Kit Carson pointed through the little gulch.
“Thar’s our peak,” he said.
In the gulch defile dusk had gathered; but outside still lingered the twilight, and beyond the end of the gulch lifted, massy in the near distance, a snow summit.
There was space for only a few stars at a time to peer down into the narrow gulch; but the camp fires lighted redly the jumbled rocks and the crowded circle of pines like blanketed Indians of heroic size. Guarded by fires, and stars, and courage, and by One who was nearer than the fires, farther than the stars, and mightier than courage, here through the chill black night of the deepest wilds safely slept the camp.
In the morning start was made early. The ride onward, up a long valley which flowed with springs and bloomed with many flowers, promised success. And when they reached the head of the valley, they found themselves at a fair little lake, set about with asters, in a green lawn bordered by rocks and pines.
At the edge the park fell away into a wide cross-draw rippled by ridges; and across it, apparently not more than a mile, rose again the Wind River Range surmounted by the high peak.
The lieutenant and Kit Carson determined that now the mules and the baggage might be left and that the draw should be crossed and the climb beyond be made afoot. Accordingly, here in this beautiful little basin was stationed a “mule camp”; here were left the provisions and blankets and coats, with two or three men in charge. Afoot the others pushed on, in their flannel shirt-sleeves—for so near seemed the snowy range that they felt certain of climbing it and returning before dark! Lieutenant Frémont carried tucked inside his shirt an American flag, of special design showing amidst the stars an eagle clutching peace-pipe and arrows. Such a token the Indians could understand. This flag the lieutenant wished to plant on the loftiest spire of the West.
This proved a very deceptive valley. Those ridges which looked upon from above had appeared to be ripples, when inspected from below were gigantic breakers, 500 feet high, frequently separated by chasms. Therefore the pace was up, and down, and back and around, and each task achieved brought but another as hard or harder. Rocks fell, waters seen and unseen roared, the difficulties increased, and almost might the wayfarer believe, like Trapper William New, that the Wind River Mountains were held under the rule of evil spirits.
By four o’clock the line of bristling snow-seamed crests looked as far ahead as ever. Now torn and scarred and hungry and exhausted, the party came together upon the sandy beach of another little lake, amidst the innumerable ridges. Here upon a broad flat rock above the lake they camped for the night.