"We soon discovered that the nearest route was on the right side, and therefore dropped down to the head of the rapid, unloaded the canoes, and took all the baggage over by land to the foot of the rapid. The distance is twelve hundred yards, part of it over loose sands, disagreeable to pass. The labor of crossing was lightened by the Indians, who carried some of the heavy articles for us on their horses. Having ascertained the best mode of bringing down the canoes, the operation was conducted by Capt. Clarke, by hauling the canoes over a point of land four hundred and fifty-seven yards to the water. One mile farther down, we reached a pitch of the river, which, being divided by two large rocks, descends with great rapidity over a fall eight feet in height. As the boats could not be navigated down this steep descent, we were obliged to land, and let them down as gently as possible by strong ropes of elk-skin, which we had prepared for the purpose. They all passed in safety, except one, which, being loosed by the breaking of the ropes, was driven down, but was recovered by the Indians below."
Our travellers had now reached what have since been called the Cascade Mountains; and we must interrupt their narrative to give some notices of this remarkable scenery from later explorers. We quote from Abbot's Report:—
"There is great similarity in the general topographical features of the whole Pacific slope. The Sierra Nevada in California, and the Cascade range in Oregon, form a continuous wall of mountains nearly parallel to the coast, and from one hundred to two hundred miles distant from it. The main crest of this range is rarely elevated less than six thousand feet above the level of the sea, and many of its peaks tower into the region of eternal snow."
Lieut. Abbot thus describes a view of these peaks and of the Columbia River:—
"At an elevation of five thousand feet above the sea, we stood upon the summit of the pass. For days we had been struggling blindly through dense forests; but now the surrounding country lay spread out before us for more than a hundred miles. The five grand snow-peaks, Mount St. Helens, Mount Ranier, Mount Adams, Mount Hood, and Mount Jefferson, rose majestically above a rolling sea of dark fir-covered ridges, some of which the approaching winter had already begun to mark with white. On every side, as far as the eye could reach, terrific convulsions of Nature had recorded their fury; and not even a thread of blue smoke from the camp-fire of a wandering savage disturbed the solitude of the scene."
The Columbia River.—"The Columbia River forces its way through the Cascade range by a pass, which, for wild and sublime natural scenery, equals the celebrated passage of the Hudson through the Highlands. For a distance of about fifty miles, mountains covered with clinging spruces, firs, and pines, where not too precipitous to afford even these a foothold, rise abruptly from the water's edge to heights varying from one thousand to three thousand feet. Vertical precipices of columnar basalt are occasionally seen, rising from fifty to a hundred feet above the river level. In other places, the long mountain-walls of the river are divided by lateral cañons (pronounced canyons), containing small tributaries, and occasionally little open spots of good land, liable to be overflowed at high water."
Cañons.—The plains east of the Cascade Mountains, through the whole extent of Oregon and California, are covered with a volcanic deposit composed of trap, basalt, and other rocks of the same class. This deposit is cleft by chasms often more than a thousand feet deep, at the bottom of which there usually flows a stream of clear, cold water. This is sometimes the only water to be procured for the distance of many miles; and the traveller may be perishing with thirst while he sees far below him a sparkling stream, from which he is separated by precipices of enormous height and perpendicular descent. To chasms of this nature the name of cañons has been applied, borrowed from the Spaniards of Mexico. We quote Lieut. Abbot's description of the cañon of Des Chutes River, a tributary of the Columbia:—
"Sept. 30.—As it was highly desirable to determine accurately the position and character of the cañon of Des Chutes River, I started this morning with one man to follow down the creek to its mouth, leaving the rest of the party in camp. Having yesterday experienced the inconveniences of travelling in the bottom of a cañon, I concluded to try to-day the northern bluff. It was a dry, barren plain, gravelly, and sometimes sandy, with a few bunches of grass scattered here and there. Tracks of antelopes or deer were numerous. After crossing one small ravine, and riding about five miles from camp, we found ourselves on the edge of the vast cañon of the river, which, far below us, was rushing through a narrow trough of basalt, resembling the Dalles of the Columbia. We estimated the depth of the cañon at a thousand feet. On each side, the precipices were very steep, and marked in many places by horizontal lines of vertical, basaltic columns, fifty or sixty feet in height. The man who was with me rolled a large rock, shaped like a grindstone, and weighing about two hundred pounds, from the summit. It thundered down for at least a quarter of a mile,—now over a vertical precipice, now over a steep mass of detritus, until at length it plunged into the river with a hollow roar, which echoed and re-echoed through the gorge for miles. By ascending a slight hill, I obtained a fine view of the surrounding country. The generally level character of the great basaltic table-land around us was very manifest from this point. Bounded on the west by the Cascade Mountains, the plain extends far towards the south,—a sterile, treeless waste."
The Cascades.—"About forty miles below the Dalles, all navigation is suspended by a series of rapids called the Cascades. The wild grandeur of this place surpasses description. The river rushes furiously over a narrow bed filled with bowlders, and bordered by mountains which echo back the roar of the waters. The descent at the principal rapids is thirty-four feet; and the total fall at the Cascades, sixty-one feet. Salmon pass up the river in great numbers; and the Cascades, at certain seasons of the year, are a favorite fishing resort with the Indians, who build slight stagings over the water's edge, and spear the fish, or catch them in rude dip-nets, as they slowly force their way up against the current."
We now return to our travellers.