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.
CHAPTER XII
Eastward from Astoria—The War of 1812 on a Business Basis in Oregon—Astoria Becomes Fort George—The Pacific Fur Company Expires—Louisiana Delimited at Last—The Expedition of Major Long—A Steamboat on the Missouri—The First Man on Pike's Peak—The Elusive Red River Refuses to be Explored—Closing on the Inner Wilderness—The Spanish Sentinel Turns Mexican.