Palmer's Journal of Travels Over the Rocky Mountains, 1845-1846

by Joel Palmer

On the morning of the 17th October after our horses had filled themselves, we packed up and started. It was still raining. We followed up this bottom to the trail, and then pursued the trail over Mount Hood. Whilst going over this mountain the rain poured down in torrents, it was foggy, and very cold. We arrived at the deep ravine at about four P.M., {76} and before we ascended the opposite bank it was dark; but we felt our way over the ridge, and round the point to the grassy run. Here was grazing for our tired horses, and we dismounted. Upon the side of the mountain, where were a few scattering trees, we found some limbs and sticks, with which we succeeded in getting a little fire. We then found a few sticks and constructed a tent, covering it with blankets, which protected our baggage and the two women. Mr. Buffum and myself stood shivering in the rain around the fire, and when daylight appeared, it gave us an opportunity to look at each others' lank visages. Our horses were shivering with the cold, the rain had put out our fire, and it seemed as though every thing had combined to render us miserable. After driving our horses round awhile, they commenced eating; but we had very little to eat, and were not troubled much in cooking it.

October 18. As soon as our horses had satisfied themselves we packed up and ascended the mountain over the ridge, and for two miles winding around up and down over a rough surface covered with grass. The rain was falling in torrents, and it was so foggy that we could barely see the trail. We at length went down a ridge two miles, when we became bewildered in the thick bushes. The trail had entirely disappeared. We could go no farther. The two women sat upon their horses in the rain, whilst I went back to search for the right trail; Buffum endeavoring to make his way down the mountain. I rambled about two miles up the mountain, where I found the right trail, and immediately returned to inform them of it. Buffum had returned, and of course had not found the trail. We then ascended the mountain to the trail, when a breeze sprung up and cleared away the fog. We could then follow the trail.

We soon saw a large band of cattle coming up the mountain, and in a short time met a party of men following them. They had started from the Dalles about eight days before, and encamped that night four or five miles below, and as it was a barren spot, their cattle had strayed to the mountain to get grass. But what was very gratifying, they informed us that a party of men from Oregon city, with provisions for our company had encamped with them, and were then at their camp. We hastened down the mountain, and in a few hours arrived at the camp. But imagine our feelings when we learned that those having provisions for us, had despaired of finding us, and {77} having already been out longer than was expected, had returned to the settlement, carrying with them all the provisions, save what they had distributed to these men. We were wet, cold, and hungry, and would not be likely to overtake them. We prevailed upon one of the men whom we found at the camp, to mount one of our horses, and follow them. He was absent about ten minutes, when he returned and informed us that they were coming. They soon made their appearance. This revived us, and for awhile we forgot that we were wet and cold. They had gone about six miles back, when some good spirit induced them to return to camp, and make one more effort to find us. The camp was half a mile from the creek, and we had nothing but two small coffee-pots, and a few tin cups, to carry water in; but this was trifling, as the rain was still pouring down upon us. We speedily made a good fire, and set to work making a tent, which we soon accomplished, and the two women prepared us a good supper of bread and coffee. It was a rainy night, but we were as comfortable as the circumstances would admit.

October 19. After breakfast, the drovers left us; and as the party which had brought us provisions had been longer out than had been contemplated, Mr. Stewart and Mr. Gilmore wished to return. It was determined that Mr. Buffum, the two females, Mr. Stewart, and Mr. N. Gilmore, should go on to the settlement, and that Mr. C. Gilmore, and the Indian who had been sent along to assist in driving the horses, and myself, should hasten on with the provisions to the camp. We were soon on the way, and climbing up the mountain. The horses were heavily loaded, and in many places the mountain was very slippery, and of course we had great difficulty in getting along. It was still raining heavily, and the fog so thick that a person could not see more than fifteen feet around. We traveled about two miles up the mountain, when we found that whilst it had been raining in the valley it had been snowing on the mountain. The trail was so covered with snow that it was difficult to find it, and, to increase our difficulty, the Indian refused to go any farther. We showed him the whip, which increased his speed a little, but he soon forgot it, was very sulky, and would not assist in driving. We at length arrived at the deep ravine; here there was no snow, and we passed it without serious difficulty. Two of our packs coming off, and rolling down the hill, was the only serious trouble that we had. When we ascended the hill to {78} the eastern side of the gulf, we found the snow much deeper than upon the western side; besides, it had drifted, and rendered the passage over the strip of the old snow somewhat dangerous, as in many places the action of the water had melted the snow upon the under side, and left a thin shell over the surface, and in some places holes had melted through. We were in danger of falling into one of these pits. Coming to one of these ravines where the snow had drifted very much, I dismounted in order to pick a trail through, but before this was completed, our horses started down the bank. I had discovered two of these pits, and ran to head the horses and turn them; but my riding horse started to run, and went directly between the two pits; his weight jarred the crust loose, and it fell in, presenting a chasm of some twenty-five or thirty feet in depth, but the horse, being upon the run, made his way across the pit. The other horses, hearing the noise and seeing the pits before them, turned higher up, where the snow and ice were thicker, and all reached the opposite side in safety.

Our Indian friend now stopped, and endeavored to turn the horses back, but two to one was an uneven game, and it was played to his disadvantage. He wanted an additional blanket; this I promised him, and he consented to go on. We soon met two Indians, on their way from the Dalles to Oregon city; our Indian conversed with them awhile, and then informed us of his intention to return with them. Whilst parleying with him, a party of men from our camp came up the mountain with their cattle; they had driven their teams to the small branch of the De Shutes, twelve miles below the mountain, where they had left the families, and started out with their cattle before the stream should get too high to cross. Whilst we were conversing with these men, our Indian had succeeded in getting one loose horse, and the one which he was riding, so far from the band of pack-horses that, in the fog, we could not see him, and he returned to the settlement with the two Indians we had just met.

Our horses were very troublesome to drive, as they had ate nothing for thirty-six hours; but we succeeded in getting them over the snow, and down to the grassy ridge, where we stopped for the night. My friend Gilmore shouldered a bag of flour, carried it half a mile down the mountain to a running branch, opened the sack, poured in water, and mixed up bread. In the mean time, I had built a fire. We wrapped the dough around sticks and baked it before the fire, heated water in our {79} tin cups and made a good dish of tea, and passed a very comfortable night. It had ceased raining before sunset, and the morning was clear and pleasant; we forgot the past, and looked forward to a bright future.

October 20. At 8 o'clock we packed up, took the trail down the mountain to the gravelly bottom, and then down the creek to the wagon-camp, which we reached at 3 P. M.; and if we had not before forgotten our troubles, we certainly should have done so upon arriving at camp. Several families were entirely out of provisions, others were nearly so, and all were expecting to rely upon their poor famished cattle. True, this would have prevented starvation; but it would have been meagre diet, and there was no certainty of having cattle long, as there was but little grass. A happier set of beings I never saw, and the thanks bestowed upon us by these families would have compensated for no little toil and hardship. They were supplied with an amount of provisions sufficient to last them until they could reach the settlements. After waiting one day, Mr. Gilmore left the camp for the settlement, taking with him three families; others started about the same time, and in a few days all but three families had departed. These were Mr. Barlow's, Mr. Rector's, and Mr. Caplinger's,[117] all of whom had gone on to the settlement for horses. Ten men yet remained at camp, and, after selecting a suitable place for our wagon-yard, we erected a cabin for the use of those who were to remain through the winter, and to stow away such of our effects as we could not pack out. This being done, nothing remained but to await the return of those who had gone for pack horses. We improved the time in hunting and gathering berries, until the 25th, when four of us, loaded with heavy packs, started on foot for the valley of the Willamette.

But before entering upon this trip, I will state by what means the timely assistance afforded us in the way of provisions was effected. The first party starting for the settlement from the Dalles, after we had determined to take the mountain route, carried the news to Oregon city that we were attempting a passage across the Cascade mountains, and that we should need provisions. The good people of that place immediately raised by donation about eleven hundred pounds of flour, over one hundred pounds of sugar, some tea, &c., hired horses, and the Messrs. Gilmore and Mr. Stewart volunteered to bring these articles to us.[118] The only expense we were asked to defray was the hire of the horses. They {80} belonged to an Indian chief, and of course he had to be paid. The hire was about forty dollars, which brought the flour to about four dollars per hundred, as there were about one thousand pounds when they arrived. Those who had the means paid at once, and those who were unable to pay gave their due bills. Many of the families constructed packsaddles and put them on oxen, and, in one instance, a feather bed was rolled up and put upon an ox; but the animal did not seem to like his load, and ran into the woods, scattering the feathers in every direction: he was finally secured, but not until the bed was ruined. In most cases, the oxen performed well.

In the afternoon of the 25th October, accompanied by Messrs. Creighton, Farwell, and Buckley, I again started to the valley. We had traveled but a short distance when we met Barlow and Rector, who had been to the settlement. They had some horses, and expected others in a short time. They had induced a few families whom they met near Mount Hood to return with them, and try their chance back to the Dalles; but, after waiting one day, they concluded to try the mountain trip again. We traveled up the bottom to the trail, where we encamped; about this time, it commenced raining, which continued through the night.