Page:Portland, Oregon, its History and Builders volume 1.djvu/545

Rh sunken spot a few steps ahead and led his horse to it, and with much difficulty got him raised to the saddle. I then told him to hold fast to the horse's mane and I would lead by the bridle. Two miles ahead was another mountain to climb over. As we reached the foot of it he was able to take the bridle in his own hands and we passed over safely into a large valley, a wide, solitary place, but no wagons in sight.

"The sun was now setting, the wind was blowing, and the rain was drifting upon the sides of the distant mountains. Poor me! I crossed the plains to where three mountains spurs met. Here the shades of night were gathering fast, and I could see the wagon tracks no further. Alighting from my horse, I flung off saddle and saddle-pack and tied the horse fast to a tree with a lasso rope. The captain asked me what I was going to do. My answer was, T am going to camp for the night.' He gave a groan and fell to the ground. I gathered my wagon sheet, which I had put under my saddle, flung it over a projecting limb of a tree, and made me a fine tent. I then stripped the captain's horse, and tied him, placed saddlle, blankets, and bridles under the tent, then helped up the bewildered old gentleman and introduced him to his new lodgings upon the bare ground. His senses were gone. Covering him as well as I could with blankets, I seated myself upon my feet behind him, expecting he would be a corpse before morning.

"Pause for a moment and consider the situation. Worse than alone, in a savage wilderness, without food, without fire, cold and shivering, wolves fighting and howling all around me. Dark clouds hid the stars. All as sohtary as death. But that same kind providence that I had always known was watching over me still. I committed all to Him- and felt no fear. As soon as light dawned, I pulled down my tent, saddled' my horse, found the captain able to stand on his feet. ' Just at this moment one of the emigrants whom I was trying to overtake came up. He was in search of venison. Half a mile ahead were the wagons I hoped to overtake, and we were soon there and ate plentifully of fresh meat. Within eight feet of where my tent had been set fresh tracks of two Indians were to be seen, but I did not know that they were there. They killed and robbed Mr. Newton, only a short distance off, but would not kill his wife because she was a woman. They killed another man on our cut-off, but the rest of the emigrants escaped with their lives. We traveled on for a few days and came to the foot of the Calipooia mountains. Here my children and my grand-children came up with us, a joyful meeting. They had been near starving. Mr. Pringle tried to shoot a wolf, but he was too weak and trembling to hold the rifle steady. They all cried because they had nothing to eat; but just at this time their own son came to them with a supply, and all cried again. Winter had now set in. We were many days crossing the Calipooia mountains, able to go ahead only a mile or two each day. The road had to be cut and opened for us, and the mountain was covered with snow. Provisions gave out and Mr. Pringle set off on horseback to the settlements for relief, not knowing how long he would be away, or whether he would ever get through. In a week or so our scanty provisions were all gone and we were again in a state of starvation. Many tears were shed through the day, by all save one. She had passed through many trials sufficient to convince her that tears would avail nothing in our extremities. Through all my sufferings in crossing the plains, I not once sought relief by the shedding of tears, nor thought we should not live to reach the settlement. The same faith that I ever had in the blessings of kind providence strengthened in proportion to the trials I had to endure. As the only alternative, or last resort, for the present time, Mr. Pringle's oldest son, Clark, shot down one of his father's best working oxen and dressed it. It