190 PICrrURE OF THE PLATTE. 





The gloomy reality of tliis sitaatioii may be thus briefly summed up ;— 

 we were fast agroiuid in the middle of a river, three-fourths of a mDe 

 from either shore, confined to the narrow hmits of a few feet, exposed to 

 the merciless peltings of a chill storm of r.iin and sleet, with only a thiir 

 lodge skin to shelter us, without fire to warm cr dry ourselves by, and, 

 worse tlian all, destitute of the means of appeasing the gnawings of hun- 

 ger. 



But, forbidding as the picture may seem, it proved only the commence- 

 ment of a long series of suffering and deprivation, more intensely dread- 

 ful in its nature, that was yet held in reserve for us. 



On the forenoon of the fourth day the storm abated, and, favored with a 

 slight rise of water, by dint of extraordinary efiTcrt we finally succeeded in 

 getting afloat, and gained the right shore after pulling our craft over sand- 

 bars for a distance of two miles. 



All hands now turned out in search of game, one ol whom returned, 

 towards night with an antelope, providing us with a needful supply of food 

 for the time being. 



The next day, forcing our craft onward for six or eight miles, we 

 brought to upon the left shore, where, after a short excursion among the 

 hills, two other antelope were brought in, v/hich furnished us with a fur- 

 ther supply of provisions. 



The day following we continued our voyage till towards noon, when a 

 high wind compelled us again to lay by under the lee of a small island. 



Here, towards night, having spread our robes near the camp fire, while 

 all hands were busy at the boat, a sudden gust of wind bore the sparks 

 among the dry grass, and in an instant the ^vhole island was one sheet of ^ 

 flame ! robes, bLmkets, and all. were almost entirely destroyed, notwitli- 

 standing our prompt efforts to save them. 



Continuing on, the next morning we forced our boat, or rather carried it, 

 down stream for about fifteen miles, — wading the river for nearly tho whole 

 distance. 



Our mode of voyaging was pretty much the same, each day of its con 

 tinuance. Sailing was out of the question. 



Not unfrequently we were obliged to unload five or six times in the 

 course of a few liours, in order to lift tlie boat over high sand-bars,— 

 carrying its cargo upon our backs through the water a half-mile or more, to 

 some dry place of deposit for the mean time ; then returning it in the hke 

 tiresome manner, — now in water up to our arm-pits, — ^then scarcely enough 

 to cover the sand of tlie river bed. 



As for a channel there was none, or rather, there were so many we were 

 at a continual loss which to choose. 



Now, gliding along merrily for a mile or two, we are brought to a halt 

 by the water scattering over a broad bed, and find ourselves snugly 

 * pocketed,'^ witii no otlier means of extrication than by backing out ; theii| 

 wading against a swift current, we retrace our steps for a like distance, 

 tuid try another chute, perhaps with no better success ; — then, again, con- 

 ▼eying our landing to the nearest point of land, by means of hand-spikei 

 afid levers, (requiring an exercise of the utmost streng^thj we force 9V 



