I presume it was between two and three o'clock in the afternoon when
Col. Freemont called out to Carson, "How far are you going tonight?"
Carson studied a minute and answered, "I think, in seven or eight miles we will find good water and a plenty of grass."
A few minutes after this Freemont said, "Say, Carson, why not go to that lake there and camp? There is plenty of grass and water," at the same time pointing to the south. Carson raised his head and looked at the point indicated. Then he said, "Col. there is no water or grass there." Freemont replied, "Damn it, look. Can't you see it?" at the same time pointing in the direction of what he supposed to be the lake. Carson checked his horse until Freemont came up near him and then said, "Col., spot this place by these little Juniper trees, and we will come back here tomorrow morning, and if you can see a lake there then I will admit that I don't know anything about this country."
Freemont was out of humor all the evening. He had nothing to say to any person.
The next morning after breakfast was over and the herder had driven in the horses Carson said, "Now Colonel, let's go and see that lake."
Under the circumstances Freemont could not say "no." I think five of us besides Carson and Freemont went back. When we came to the place where the little Juniper trees were, Freemont's face showed that he was badly whipped, for sure enough there was no lake there; he had seen what is called a mirage.
I have seen almost everything in mirage form, but what causes this Atmospheric optical illusion has never been explained to my satisfaction. Some men say it is imagination, but I do not think it is so.
On our way back to camp a man by name of Cummings was riding by my side.
He made the remark in an undertone, "I am sorry this thing happened."
I asked him, "Why?" In reply he said, "Colonel Freemont won't get over
this in many a day, for Carson has shown him that he can be mistaken."
We laid over at this camp until the next day as this was good water and exceptionally good grass. Nothing interfered with us until we struck the Colorado river. Here we met quite a band of Umer Indians. Without any exception they were the worst-looking human beings that I have ever seen in my life. A large majority of them were as naked as they were when they were born. Their hair in many instances looked as if it never had been straightened out. They lived mostly on pine nuts. The nuts grow on a low, scrubby tree, a species of Pine, and in gathering the nuts they covered their hands with gum which is as sticky as tar and rubbed it on their bodies and in their hair. The reader may imagine the effect; I am satisfied that many of these Indians had never seen a white man before they saw us. Very few of them had bows and arrows; they caught fish. How they caught them I never knew, but I often saw the squaws carrying fish.
When we reached the Colorado river we stayed two days making rafts to cross the river on. The last day we were there, laying on the bank of the river, I presume there came five hundred of these Indians within fifty yards of our camp. Most of them laid down under the trees. One of our men shot a bird that was in a tree close by, and I never heard such shouting or saw such running as these Indians did when the gun cracked. This convinced me that we were the first white men they had ever seen, and this the first time they had heard the report of a gun. This incident occurred in forty-eight, which was fifty-eight years ago. I have seen more or less of these Indians from that time until now, and these Indians as a tribe have made less progress than any other Indians in the west. Even after the railroad was put through that part of the country, they had to be forced to cover themselves with clothes.