The Western Echo / A Description of the Western State and Territories of the United States. As Gathered in a Tour by Wagon

by George W. Romspert

In one of these big drives we came to a little stream called Bitter Creek, that flowed noiselessly down a ravine; and the first impulse was joy. But when we got to the bank we found a notice stuck up warning us to not let stock drink for the water was poisonous. It was as white as milk with alkali; and we wondered if we had not struck the land that flows with milk and honey—however, we saw no honey around. The horses wanted to drink, but we carefully kept them from it. Taking a cup, I resolved to taste the stuff, poison or no poison. I took but a little sip, and was satisfied; for it was so strong that the skin came off my lips and tongue wherever the water touched.

We came to the mountains at dark, and following a road that branched off down a deep gulch to the right we traveled about two miles and opened into a little basin covered with rich, green grass, and where the pure, cool water bubbled from the foot of the mountain and ran off down the hollow, glittering in the bright moonlight. Having just come out of the scorching sands, and not having had a drink of good water for several days, the camp was to us delightful; and the ponies, after quenching their thirst from the crystal stream, rolled themselves upon the soft lawn and went to grazing the tender grass as though well contented.

There were several other outfits there also; and by one of the wagons a splendid, large, dark-bay stallion lay dead. The horse was very dry when he came to Bitter Creek, and in spite of all warning his owner let him drink; and though he took but a few swallows of the ugly water it did the work.

We stayed here the next day to recruit our team, and killed a fine large deer that came to drink at the water below; and the following morning we took our last draught from the cool waters, and rather reluctantly left the beautiful Antelope Springs to climb up the side of the mighty mountain to the west. We wound slowly up the steep side, and it was nearly night before we reached the top. When once there we could see for miles around over the rugged, barren peaks and the dry, sandy plains of Bitter Creek. The timber was but dwarfy bushes; the air was light and cool, and the clouds swept by our feet along the crest of the mountain, being sometimes so thick as to hide objects but a few yards away. We looked down the other side, and it appeared to be miles to the bottom; for the pines in the valley below looked like little twigs on a hazel-brush. We descended but a short way when we came to a pretty spring and stopped for the night; for our horses were very tired. The next day at noon we reached the bottom; and as we looked back it seemed as though we had come directly down from the heavens.

Here stood what is called Quakenasp Mountain; and from a cliff away up in its side sprung a stream of clear water which came tumbling down over the rocks like a cataract. We had heard this mountain spoken of as being a great place for game; so, being remarkably fond of hunting, we concluded to stop and try our hand. There were great chasms in the mountain-side, and these were filled with thick growths of quakenasp-trees and bushes, down among which the water flowed and where the game harbored.

Leaving the Goodrich brothers in camp, Doc. and myself each strapped a blanket upon his back, and, taking our big rifles, we started up the mountain. We saw some sign, but no game until we reached the top. Looking down the other side we saw a little branch running down a deep hollow, and we descended. Here the banks were all cut up with the sharp hoofs of the deer and elk, and the print of a single Indian moccasin could be seen in the soft sand at the brink. The slopes were all covered with sage-brush as thick as a man’s leg and as high as his breast, with here and there a little pine-tree. I often think of it to-day as the wildest-looking place I saw in all my travels.

Our camp lay just over the mountain, about four miles away; and as the darkness was already gathering we concluded to stay here till morning and shoot the game as it came to the water. So, wrapping ourselves in our blankets, we lay down among the sage-brush at the roots of a little pine sapling that stood on the bank of the stream and were dozing sweetly when the piercing howl of a wolf, that appeared to be trailing us down the mountain-side, broke the deep silence and roused us from our slumbers. Almost instantly howling began in every glen and on every hill-side; and the shrill notes echoed down the valley in which we lay. We had always kept a fire when in bad wolf-countries before; but thinking that there was no danger here we had avoided fire on account of the game. And it was even dangerous to start a fire here among the dry sage-brush without first carefully clearing a place; for, should the fire break out, we would surely perish in the flames. What was to be done must be done quickly, for the brush was crashing at our very sides and the deafening cries rang in our ears. Fire-arms against such numbers was a feeble defense; and there being no other tree that could be reached in time, we both sprung into the slender sapling that we knew was too weak to bear us up, just getting out of the way when several large wolves reached the tree. Doc. being the lightest went up first, and I stayed as close to the bottom as I could to take off as much weight as possible. But, just as we had anticipated, the tree was too weak; and, bending over, Doc. was left within six feet of the ground, so that we were both almost within reach of our hungry foes. Thicker and thicker they came and louder and louder they howled until they looked like a large flock of sheep, and we could not hear each other speak. They became so ravenous that they would spring up and clash their foaming jaws together, sometimes within a few inches of us, and now and then catching parts of our clothing, and blowing their warm breath in our faces. It was a critical moment; and had that tree been high enough I would have climbed up to the moon. But it was the best we could do; and with our knives in our hands we struck them in the head as they jumped up. The prey was so near that they lost themselves in anxiety and rage, and would spring at the tree and gnaw like mad maniacs. This I was careful to stop with a shot or two from my six-shooter; for should the tree be weakened in the least we knew very well that it would make but little difference to us who got to be president of the United States. We fought them off in this way for several hours, and until there were many killed and great numbers wounded. All of a sudden—as though their attention had been attracted by something else—they ran off, howling, down the stream. This was our opportunity; and leaping quickly to the ground we grabbed our rifles and ran for another and larger tree that stood two hundred yards away. We got about half way when we found that they were coming back; and then there was a race for life. We thought that the sage-brush were thicker than we had ever seen them; and it appeared as though the tree were a mile off. On we went, lunging, leaping, and falling, and the howling became too near to sound nice. The tree is but a few yards away, yet the brush are rattling at our very heels and the angry growl is plain to our ears.

The tree is reached, and we each spring for a limb and draw ourselves up out of the very mouths of our enemies. For a moment we are safe. But, great horror! Just at that moment Doc.’s limb broke, and he fell back among the enraged throng. He alighted upon his feet, however, and leaving his rifle fall and throwing his blanket from his shoulder the attention of the wolves was slightly diverted, and, quick as a cat, he sprung for another limb; but before he could draw himself out of the way several large fellows firmly fastened their fangs in the legs of his pants, and I thought the show was about over with him. They howled and raged and tore, with their game in their very jaws; but Doc. held to the limb with a death-grip, until I shot the wolves that held him down, and, drawing himself safely up, he heaved a long sigh of relief and appeared to be surprised to find that his legs and feet were all there, with but a few light scars.

We were now safe; but the wind turning cold about midnight, our couch in the tree was very unpleasant, indeed. The pack appeared to be bound to have meat, and stayed round the tree, howling and gnawing, until near daylight, when they began to disperse, and the noise died away among the rifts and gorges. When all was quiet and the night was done we stepped to the ground much relieved. The tree was terribly torn, and the ground and brush all around were smeared with blood and foam. We found twenty large wolves lying dead among the sage-brush, with wounds from knife and bullet. Great pools of blood stood here and there, and the blankets were hanging in shreds on the brush. We had had wolf-calls several times; but that was the most disagreeable call we had ever experienced.

We did not think it worth our while to look for game in that part after such a night of carousing, so taking our rifles we started up over the mountain for camp. We got near the top, when hearing a racket among the crags and bushes near by, we dodged behind a large rock and prepared for the oncome. Soon a large elk dashed from a deep gorge, and started off down the mountain-side, closely pursued by several great wolves. Quickly resting our rifles against the rock, we sent our lead upon the elk; and with a jerk of the head and a high leap in the air, he fell dead among the rocks, and the wolves ran off in fright. It was the largest of the species that I had ever seen, and the tips of its great horns were five feet apart. Taking the tongue and saddle, we went down into camp and found everything all right. We then had breakfast; and the soft flesh was delicious. I shall never forget that night, and shall ever feel thankful that our new comrades were left at camp; for otherwise, with their inexperience, the result would certainly have been bitter to our little camp.