[From James G. Scrugham, Nevada: The Narrative of the Conquest of a Frontier Land (1935), vol. I, pp. 69-84]

IX

The fortunes of the fur-trade in the northwest, the stories of the returning trappers, and the accounts of the first emigrants to Oregon and California, all served to increase the widespread interest among the people of the United States in the vast territory west of the Rocky Mountains, nearly all of which in 1840 belonged to Mexico. Nowhere else was this interest so intense as in St. Louis, the center of the fur-trade and the outfitting point of emigration. As was natural the public men of the west were first to learn of and appreciate the wonderful resources awaiting development in this unmapped and little known empire. To the vision and the efforts of two of these men, Senators Benton and Linn of Missouri, is due in large degree the initiation of a course of action that ultimately resulted in extending the dominion of the United States from the valley of the Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean. This result was, to be sure, a part of "manifest destiny," but as always its realization lay in human hands. The first practical step toward its realization was to learn definitely of the extent, the character, the climate, and the possibilities for human and civilized use of this country then known only through the unscientific and often greatly exaggerated accounts given by traders and trappers.

Up to 1840 the government surveys in the west had been for the most part confined to the valleys of the Mississippi and its tributaries. Prominent because of his ability and energy in this work was a young, lieutenant of engineers, appointed from civil life, John C. Fremont, destined to become an important and interesting figure in American history. In 1842 Lieutenant Fremont was ordered to survey a portion of the country in northwestern Missouri. At his personal solicitation his orders were changed so that his work might embrace an expedition as far west as the Rocky Mountain divide. The result of this survey was the running of a reconnaissance line from the mouth of the Kansas River, through the South Pass, to the Wind River mountains, to the highest peak of which he gave his name. The publication of his report of this survey added greatly to Fremont's repute and to popular interest in the country of the far northwest. The next year, 1843, Fremont was ordered to continue his survey into the wilderness west of Fremont's Peak. Ostensibly, at least, the object of Fremont's second expedition to the west was to connect the surveys of his first reconnaissance with those of Commander Wilkes on the Columbia River. Wilkes had commanded a naval expedition to the California and Oregon coast in 1840, and had published a voluminous report of conditions there together with maps covering the coast and adjacent regions.

69

70        NEVADA

"I proceeded to the Great West early in the spring of 1843," says Fremont in his official report, "and arrived, on the 17th of May, at the little town of Kansas, on the Missouri frontier, near the junction of the Kansas river with the Missouri river, where I was detained near two weeks in completing the necessary preparations for the extended explorations which my instructions contemplated." At this point a force of forty men was organized, with Thomas Fitzpatrick, a noted hunter, as guide. "The party

[picture]

JOHN C. FREMONT

was armed generally with Hall's carbines, which, with a brass 12-lb. howitzer, had been furnished to me from the United States arsenal at St. Louis, agreeably to the orders of Colonel S. W. Kearney, commanding the third military division. Three men were especially detailed for the management of this piece. . . .The camp equipage and provisions were transported in twelve carts drawn each by two mules." The expedition left Kansas City on May 29, and two days later encamped at Elm Grove with an emigrant train under J. B. Chiles, a portion of whose party was to be the second band of emigrants to cross Nevada. The Fremont party followed for the most part the usual route up the Platte and through the South Pass to the valley of the Green River, where at the base of Fremont's Peak it took up its work of connecting the two surveys.

The great emigration from the valley of the Mississippi to the valley of the Willamette in Oregon had now begun, and Fremont

NEVADA        71

found emigrant parties at many camping places along the way. At St. Vrain's Fort Kit Carson joined the party as official hunter. He had been with Fremont on the first expedition; and from this time on was to share in the exciting adventures and trying vicissitudes which marked Fremont's career, retaining to the end the respect and friendship of his leader. He was born in Kentucky, and his life had been spent on the frontier where at an early age he had won renown for bravery and skill as a hunter and Indian fighter. His travels had taken him over most of the country which the expedition was to traverse. Dividing the party at Vrain's Fort, Fremont directed Fitzpatrick, with most of the men and the heavy wagons, to proceed along the emigrant road to Fort Hall on the Snake River where the smaller force would rejoin him after a detour to Great Salt Lake. With a pack train, and a light wagon for the astronomical instruments, and the much prized howitzer, Fremont with a picked force of thirteen men pushed on ahead leaving the emigrant road and following unbeaten paths in order to find, if possible, a more direct route for the increasing overland travel.

On August 25 Fremont arrived at the famous "Beer Springs, which on account of the effervescing gas and acid taste, had received their name from the voyagers and trappers of the country." A few miles below these springs the river turns abruptly from its northerly course to the west, and then to the south to its confluence

72        NEVADA

with Great Salt Lake. The Oregon trail, however, left the river at its westerly turn and continuing to the north crossed the low divide into the Columbia basin and followed down the Portneuf River to Fort Hall, about fifty miles distant. In order to examine Great Salt Lake Fremont followed the river to the west, having dispatched Kit Carson to Fort Hall, to secure much needed provisions, with which he was to rejoin the main party as soon as possible. Following the Indian trails along the course of the river Fremont went down to the lake, and explored its northern end.

[picture]

KIT CARSON

Leaving the lake he crossed the divide through Red Rock Creek and went down to Fort Hall on the Snake River. His official re-port contained a description of the valley of Great Salt Lake in the vicinity of the present site of Ogden which coming to the attention of Brigham Young led to the settlement of the Mormons in the valley in 1846, a matter of prime importance in the history of Utah and Nevada.

In pursuance of his official purpose Fremont continued his explorations going down the Snake and the Columbia Rivers to Fort Vancouver and so connecting his line of survey from the Mississippi River with that of Commander Wilkes at the Falls of the Columbia, and "thus presenting," as he reported, "a connected exploration from the Mississippi to the Pacific."

On November 24, 1843, the expedition left the Columbia River at the Falls and followed up the Deschutes River to the south on

NEVADA        73

its return journey. This journey, says Fremont, "contemplated a new route and a great circuit to the south and southeast and the exploration of the Great Basin between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada. Three principal objects were indicated by re-port or by maps, as being on this route; the character or existence of which I wished to ascertain, and which I assumed as landmarks, or leading points, on the projected line of return." The first of these points on Fremont's proposed route was Klamath Lake, the second was a reported lake, called Mary's at some days' journey to the southwest in the Great Basin; and the third was, "the reputed Buenaventura River, which has a place on so many maps, and countenanced the belief of the existence of a great river flowing from the Rocky Mountains to the Bay of San Francisco." The Buenaventura, which existed only on the maps, was shown as connecting Great Salt Lake with the Pacific. Its existence had been disproved by Smith and Walker, but the inaccurate maps persisted.

Crossing the divide at the headwaters of the Deschutes, Fremont turned to the southeast, passing Lakes Summer and Abert, which he named. The expedition at Lake Abert crossed Ogden's route of 1827. It was now "in a country where the scarcity of water and of grass makes traveling dangerous, and great caution was necessary." Fremont followed a "plainly beaten" Indian trail leading to the south. On December 26 astronomical observation showed that the expedition was "directly on the 42nd parallel," the present dividing line between Oregon and Nevada, and about eleven miles east of the California line, in Long Valley. Leaving this valley Fremont crossed over into High Rock Creek and down this stream to a basin (Soldier Meadows) where he camped on December 31. "Our New Year's eve," he says, "was rather a gloomy one. The result of our journey began to be very uncertain; the country was singularly unfavorable to travel; the grasses being frequently of a very unwholesome character, and the hoofs of our animals were so worn and cut by rocks that many of them were lame and could scarcely be got along."

For the next two days the party was out on the Black Rock desert, the ground "covered with snow." "We had reached and run over the position where, according to the best maps in my possession, we should have found Mary's Lake or River. We were evidently on the verge of the desert which had been reported to us, and the appearance of the country was so forbidding that I was afraid to enter it, and determined to bear away to the southward, keeping close to the mountains, in the full expectation of reaching the Buenaventura River." On January 10 Fremont and

Carson in advance of the main party went through a narrow valley, since known as Fremont's Pass. From the summit "a defile in the mountains descended rapidly about two thousand feet; and filling up all the lower space was a sheet of green water, some twenty miles broad. It broke upon our eyes like the ocean." On the eastern shore of this lake the expedition encamped "opposite a very remarkable rock in the lake which had attracted our attention for many miles. It rose, according to our estimate, about six hundred feet above the lake; and, from the point we viewed, presented a pretty exact outline of the great pyramid of Cheops. . . . This striking feature suggested a name for the lake; and I called it Pyramid Lake." Fremont found a few "poor looking

74        NEVADA

Indians" in this vicinity who spoke "a dialect of the Snake language." On the next day the expedition reached the mouth of the Truckee River where it found an Indian village, "a collection of straw huts," of considerable size. "An Indian brought in a large fish to trade, which we had the inexpressible satisfaction to find was a salmon trout; we gathered around him eagerly. The Indians were amused with our delight, and immediately brought in numbers, so that the camp was soon stocked. Their flavor was excellent. They were of extraordinary size—about as large as the

[picture]

PELICAN ISLAND, PYRAMID LAKE

Columbia River salmon—generally from two to four feet in length. . . . I remarked that one of them gave a fish to the Indian we had first seen, which he carried off to his family. To them it was probably a feast, being of the Digger tribe, and having no share in the fishery, living generally on seeds and roots. Although this was a time of the year when the fish had not yet become fat, they were excellent. . . .These Indians were very fat, and appeared to live a happy life. . . .We could obtain from them but little information respecting the country. They made on the ground a drawing of the river, which they represented as issuing from another lake in the mountains, three or four days distant, in a direction a little west of south; beyond which they drew a mountain; and further still, two rivers; on one of which they told us that people like ourselves travelled."

Considering the remarkable accuracy of this map on the sand and the fact that the Indians could communicate only in signs, Fremont obtained from them rather more than the "little information respecting the country," which he reports. The next morning the party travelled "along this beautiful stream," the Truckee, and camped that night near the present site of Wadsworth. Leaving the river at this point where its course turns west toward the mountains, Fremont held his course to the south. "With every

NEVADA        75

stream I now expected the great Buenaventura; and Carson hastened eagerly to search, on every one we reached, for beaver cuttings, which he always maintained we should find only on waters that ran to the Pacific; and the absence of such signs was, to him, a sure indication that the water had no outlet from the Great Basin. We followed the Indian trail through a tolerably level country, with small sage brushes, which brought us, after twenty miles' journey, to another large stream (the Carson River) timbered with cottonwood, and flowing also out of the mountains, but running more directly to the eastward. There were Indian lodges and fish-dams on the stream. There were no beaver cuttings on the river, but below it turned around to the right; and hoping that it would prove a branch of the Buenaventura, we followed it down about three hours and encamped. . . . This stream joined with the open valley of another to the eastward; but which way the main water ran it was impossible to tell."

The expedition reached the Carson River somewhere below the present site of Fort Churchill and followed down to the Carson Sink. It was now in the vicinity where Walker's party had battled with the Indians in 1833, and again in 1834, with such frightful results to the latter. Walker had also led the Chiles party this way the previous summer. Fremont found plenty of Indian lodges but all were deserted. The Indians, he says, "had evidently been alarmed by the news of our appearance. . . . Columns of smoke rose over the country at scattered intervals—signals by which the Indians, here as elsewhere, communicate to each other that enemies are in the country. . . . If they knew the whites, they would understand that their only object in coming among them was to trade, which .required peace and friendship; but they have nothing to trade, consequently nothing to attract the white men; hence their fear and flight." Fremont little realized how well these particular Indians "knew the whites," and with what good reason they fled from their approach. Fremont's mind was now thoroughly disabused of the notion that he would find a great river flowing out from the Great Basin, through the Sierras, down which his party could float to the Pacific. The dilemma which now con-fronted the expedition was one to test to the utmost the quality of the young commander's leadership and the mettle of his men. To the east between their camp and the outermost posts of civilization where supplies might be secured, lay six hundred miles of track-less, uninhabitable desert; to the west, between them and California, lay the snow-capped Sierras and winter. Even if the men could find sustenance in crossing the desert, the horses could not travel the long distance over the rocky ground, for even now their hoofs were worn to the quick, and there was no iron with which to renew their shoes. "I therefore determined," says Fremont, "to abandon my eastern course, and to cross the Sierra Nevada into the valley of the Sacramento, wherever a practicable pass could be found. My decision was heard with joy by the people, and diffused new life throughout the camp." The party retraced its steps up the Carson and encamped on January 20 near the present site of Fort Churchill. "We ascended a peak of the range, which commanded a view of this stream behind the first ridge, where it was winding its course through a somewhat open valley, and I sometimes regret that I did not make the trail to cross here;

76        NEVADA

but while we had fair weather below, the mountains were darkened with falling snow, and, feeling unwilling to encounter them, we turned again to the southward."

If Fremont had held his course to the west he would have followed Walker's route of 1833 up the Carson River, and would have saved a long and useless detour to the south; but he was entirely unfamiliar with the country and was seeking a low pass over the mountains. Leaving the Carson the party travelled about twenty-four miles and camped on the Walker River a few miles north of the present site of Yerington. Fremont gave names to both these streams, but not until a later date. Travelling up the Walker "about fourteen miles" they came to the forks of the river, and because it was still storming in the mountains they turned up the east fork; another mistake, for at this point they were within a day's march of the place where they camped on the west fork ten days later. Along the east fork the travelling was not difficult and there was plenty of grass until the high mountains were reached. Indians occasionally appeared and bartered pine-nuts with the men, who eagerly secured as many as possible. The only arms possessed by the Indians were "bows and flint pointed arrows." They had no horses. Securing one of them to act as guide they put him on a horse and "enjoyed the unusual sight of an Indian who could not ride." The party went into camp in the valley north of the present site of Bridgeport where it remained two days in order to recuperate the stock, and to allow Fremont to reconnoitre. Believing himself to be practically on the divide between the Great Basin and the Pacific, he was now looking for the headwaters of a stream that flowed to the west. Following up the northerly fork of the East Walker, on which he was camped, he came to the pass between the east and west forks, and from a peak which he climbed he saw the west fork bearing to the north-west, so he determined to follow it trusting that it would prove to be a tributary of some California river. On January 28 the expedition moved up through the pass, noting "several hot springs" (Fales) near the summit, and camping "on a high point where the snow had been blown off, and the exposed grass afforded a scanty pasture for the animals. Snow and broken country together made our travelling difficult; we were often compelled to make long circuits, and ascend the highest and most exposed ridges, in order to avoid snow, which in other places was banked up to a great depth." Owing to the rough nature of the country it was found impossible to carry the little howitzer any further, and on January 29 it was abandoned on the east side of the West Walker. "I reluctantly determined to leave it there for the time," says Fremont. "It was the kind invented by the French for the mountain part of their war in Algiers; and the distance it had come with us proved how well it was adapted for its purpose. We left it to the great sorrow of the whole party, who were grieved to part with a companion which had made the whole distance from St. Louis, and commanded respect for us on some critical occasions." Crossing to the west bank of the river in a small meadow a few miles below where the howitzer was left, the party, "after a few more miles of very difficult trail, issued into a larger prairie bottom" and encamped. Several Indians came into camp who "immediately made it clear that the waters, on which we were, also belonged to the Great Basin, in the edge of which we had been since the 17th

NEVADA        77

of December; and it became evident that we had still the great ridge on the left to cross before we could reach the Pacific waters." Explaining to the Indians his desire to cross the mountains Fremont offered them rewards to guide him. "They looked at the reward we offered, and conferred with each other, but pointed at the snow on the mountains, and drew their hands across their necks, and raised them above their heads to show the depth; and signified that it would be impossible to get through. . . . They appeared to have a confused idea, from report, of whites who lived on the other side of the mountain; and once, they told us, about two years ago, a party of twelve men like ourselves had ascended their river, and crossed to the other waters. They pointed out to us where they had crossed; but then, they said, it was summer time; but now it would be impossible." The Indians referred, of course, to the Bidwell party of 1841. The next day Fremont's party went down the stream and camped in Antelope Valley. On the following day, with a young Indian to guide them, they left the Walker and following a broad trail went over the low pass into the southern end of Carson Valley, and camped that night, January 31, on the east fork of the Carson. From the Indians who came to the camp it was learned that it was "six sleeps to the place where the whites lived," but that the journey could only be made in summer.

On February 1 Fremont called his men together and explained to them the desperate situation the expedition was in, with the long stretch of desert to the east and the snow-covered mountains to the west. He then announced his decision to attempt the pass-age of the mountains in the hope of soon reaching the warm and fertile valley of the Sacramento, seventy miles to the west. "The people received this decision with cheerful obedience,—and the day was immediately devoted to the preparations necessary to carry it into effect." A young Indian, who had been to the white settlement, was with great difficulty persuaded to go with them as guide. The course was now up the Carson, and thence up Markleville Creek to the hot springs (Grover's) where camp was made on February 3. The next twelve days were occupied in a desperate effort to move the expedition through the deep snow up the mountain sides and across the ridge to what is now known as Hope Valley. Fremont and Carson went ahead to reconnoitre and on February 6, "crossing the open basin, in a march of about ten miles we reached the top of one of the peaks to the left of the pass (Carson's) indicated by our guide. Far below us, dimmed by the distance, was a large snowless valley, bounded on the western side, at a distance of about a hundred miles, by a low range of mountains, which Carson recognized with delight as the mountains bordering the coast. `There,' said he, `is the little mountain—it is fifteen years since I saw it; but I am just as sure of it as if I had seen it yesterday'." Carson had been in California in 1829 with Ewing Young's party of trappers, going north from the Colorado River into the Sacramento Valley.

The actual sight of the Sacramento Valley, when reported to the party, greatly cheered the men. They were now in a most critical plight. Fitzpatrick, in charge of the main party, had found it impossible to move the baggage until a path had been beaten through the snow. Progress was extremely slow, and the party was continually delayed by furious storms. The food supply

78        NEVADA

After spending two weeks at Sutter's Fort, on March 22 the expedition started on its long journey back to the United States, "with an ample stock of provisions and a large cavalcade of animals, consisting of 130 horses and mules, and about 30 head of cattle, five of which were milch cows. . . . Our direct course home was east; but the Sierra would force us south about five hundred miles of travelling to a pass at the head of the San Joaquin River. This pass, reported to be good, was discovered by Mr. Joseph Walker, of whom I have already spoken, and whose name it might therefore appropriately bear. To reach it our course lay along the valley of the San Joaquin—the river on our right, and .the lofty wall of the impassable Sierra on the left. From that pass we were to move southeastwardly, having the Sierra then on our right, and reach the `Spanish trail,' deviously traced from one watering place to another, which constituted the route of the caravans from Pueblo de los Angeles, near the coast of the Pacific to Santa Fe of New Mexico. From the pass to this trail was 150 miles. Following that trail through a desert, relieved by some fertile plains indicated by the recurrence of the term vegas, until it turned to the right to cross the Colorado, our course would be

NEVADA        79

northeast until we regained the latitude we had lost in arriving at Eutah Lake, and thence to the Rocky Mountains at the head of the Arkansas." This apparent forecast of the homeward route was actually written after the journey was accomplished, and is a brief outline of the route followed. The route up the valley of the San Joaquin was along Indian roads several miles east of the river, the low land along the river being at this season of the year either marshy or covered by water. On April 13 the party entered Tehachapi Pass.

Leaving the pass, luxuriant with spring-time verdure, the party went down into the Mojave Desert, following for a time Garces' route of 1776, and is again in the desert of the Great Basin, with a friendly Indian to guide them to the Spanish trail. "It was in-deed dismal to look upon," says Fremont, "and hard to conceive so great a change in so short a distance. . . . Our cavalcade made a strange and grotesque appearance; and it was impossible to avoid reflecting upon our position and composition in this remote solitude. Within two degrees of the Pacific Ocean; already far south of the latitude of Monterey; and still forced on south by a desert on one hand, and a mountain range on the other; guided by a civilized Indian, attended by two wild ones from the Sierra; a Chinook from the Columbia; and our own mixture of American, French, German—all armed; four or five languages heard all at once; above a hundred horses and mules, half wild; American, Spanish, and Indian dresses and equipments intermingled—such was our composition. Our march was a sort of procession. Scouts ahead, and on the flanks; a front and rear division; the pack animals, baggage and horned cattle, in the center; and the whole stretching a quarter of a mile along our dreary path. In this form we journey, looking more like we belonged to Asia than to the United States of America."

The course now was generally southeast, skirting the eastern base of the San Bernardino mountains, and heading for the Spanish Trail which came up through El Cajon Pass from the mission at Los Angeles. Indian trails were followed from one watering place to another until, on April 19, the expedition reached a branch of the Spanish trail. Pointing to the east, along this trail, and saying to Fremont, "aqui, es camino, no se perde-va siempre," the Indian guide took leave of the party, and turned to the south on his way to the mission of Los Angeles. "Here we turned directly east-ward along the trail, which, from being seldom used, is almost imperceptible." At the close of a two days' march on this trail "a general shout announced that we had struck the great object of our search—the Spanish Trail—which here was running directly north. The road itself, and its course, were equally happy discoveries to us. . . . A road to travel on, and the right course to go, were joyful consolations to us, and our animals enjoyed the beaten track like ourselves . . . . Although in California we had met people who had passed over this trail, we had been able to obtain no correct information about it." This trail is of interest historically, but was never of great commercial importance. Its chief use was for driving mules and horses, many of them stolen from the California missions, to the market at Santa Fe. For this purpose it was admirably adapted, leading, as it did, from one watering place to another through a country where successful pursuit was well-nigh impossible. It was, as Dr. Peters points out

80        NEVADA

in his Life of Kit Carson, "nothing more than a mule-path leading from New Mexico to California." Fremont struck the main trail fifteen miles south of the Mojave River, on the banks of which he camped for a day to refresh the animals. His course for the next six days was down the right bank of the Mojave, which from "a clear bold stream, 60 feet wide, and several feet deep—gradually dwindled away as it was absorbed by the sand. . . . We were now careful to take the old camping places of the annual Santa Fe caravans, which, luckily for us, had not yet made their yearly passage. A drove of several thousand mules and horses would have entirely swept away the scanty grass at the watering places." From the Mojave to the valley of the Muddy, some two hundred miles to the northeast, the route of the expedition was approximately that now followed by the Los Angeles and Salt Lake Railroad.

Along the Spanish trail there was many a long stretch of sandy waste on which there was not a drop of water; and more than once a forced march of fifty or sixty miles was required between watering places. The trail near either end of these long marches was covered by the bones of animals that had perished from thirst and exhaustion; and the existence of these bones in profusion along the trail bore mute testimony to the distance between the springs, and the hardships to be endured in the crossing. At the last camp on the Mojave the party was visited by two Mexicans, a man named Fuentes and a boy named Pablo Hernandez. They were sole survivors of a party of six, including the father and mother of Pablo, who with a small band of horses had set out from Los Angeles ahead of the big caravan. At a point on the trail about eighty miles in advance of Fremont's camp the little party had been attacked by a large band of Indians. Fuentes and Pablo were in charge of the horses at the time of the attack, and man-aged to drive most of them back along the trail for sixty miles without stopping, and then, leaving the animals at a spring, had hastened on hoping to meet the caravan from Los Angeles, but fell in with the Fremont party instead, and turned east with it to secure their horses and, if possible, to rescue their friends. "We left the river abruptly," says the report, "and, turning to the north, regained in a few miles the main trail (which had left the river sooner than ourselves) and continued our way across a low ridge of the mountains, through a miserable waste of sand and gravel. We crossed at intervals the broad beds of dry gullies, where in the season of rains and melting snows there would be brooks or rivulets; and at one of these, where there was no indication of water, were several freshly dug holes, in which there was water at the depth of two feet. These holes had been dug by the wolves, whose keen sense of smell had scented the water under the dry sand. They were nice little wells, narrow, and dug straight down, and we got pleasant water from them." The camp this night was at the spring where Fuentes had left his horses; but they had disappeared, having been driven off by the Indians. Out of pity for the unfortunate Mexicans and doubtless more than ready for a little excitement, Carson and Godey volunteered to ac-company Fuentes in pursuit of the Indians. They started out, well armed and mounted, but Fuentes was obliged to return to camp, his horse having failed. The party remained at the spring for their return. "In the afternoon of the next day," says Fremont,

NEVADA        81

"a war whoop was heard, such as Indians make when returning from a victorious enterprise; and soon Carson and Godey arrived, driving before them a band of horses, recognized by Fuentes to be a part of those they had lost. Two bloody scalps from the end of Godey's gun, announced that they had overtaken the Indians as well as the horses." From Carson's account it appeared that they followed the trail of the Indians to a narrow ravine in the hills, and, waiting there during the night, had pushed on before day-

[picture]

"GREAT COLUMN," WHIPPLE CAVE

break the next morning and soon discovered an encampment of four lodges of Indians, and the horses scattered along the ravine. "Giving the war shout, they instantly charged into the camp, regardless of the number which the four lodges would imply. The Indians received them with a flight of arrows shot from their long bows, one of which passed through Godey's shirt collar, barely missing the neck; our men fired their rifles upon a steady aim, and rushed in." Two Indians were killed and the others fled to the hills. Carson and Godey collected the horses and returned with them to the camp, having travelled about one hundred miles in thirty hours. "The time, place, object, and numbers considered," says Fremont, "this expedition of Carson and Godey may be considered among the boldest and most disinterested which the annals of western adventure, so full of daring deeds, can present."

82        NEVADA

From this camp, which Fremont mapped as Augua de Tomaso, to the next watering place, Fuentes informed them, was forty or fifty miles across a waterless and sandy plain. To avoid the heat of the day the march across this stretch was made by night. "The line of our road was marked by the skeletons of horses—which had perished before they could reach the water." On this march they passed from California into the present state of Nevada and on April 29 reached the spring where Fuentes and his party had been attacked. Only the dead bodies of Pablo's father and another man were found; and little Pablo was inconsolable, calling constantly, "mi padre, mi madre." This spring was named Augua de Hernandez for Pablo's father; and here Fremont left in the cleft of a pole a written account of the fate of the Mexican party that the coming caravan might have knowledge of it. Following the Spanish trail from spring to spring, the party arrived on May 3 at a "camping ground called Las Vegas. . . . Two narrow streams of clear water, four or five feet deep, gush suddenly, with a quick current, from two singularly large springs." The next day was through the gap in the mountains northeast of Las Vegas to the Muddy River. "The appearance of the skeletons of horses very soon warned us that we were engaged in another dry journada, which proved the longest we had made in all our journey—between fifty and sixty miles without a drop of water. . . . Hourly expecting to find water, we continued to press on until toward midnight, when, after a hard and uninterrupted march of 16 hours, our wild mules began running ahead; and in a mile or two we came to a bold running stream—so keen is the sense of that animal, in the desert regions, in scenting at a distance this necessary of life." Camp was made on the banks of the Muddy, not far from the present site of Moapa, and here the party rested for a day. "Indians crowded around us in the morning; and we were obliged to keep arms in hand all day, to keep them out of the camp. . . . They were the same people who had murdered the Mexicans; and toward us their disposition was evidently hostile, nor were we well disposed toward them. They were barefooted, and nearly naked; their hair gathered up into a knot behind; and with his bow each man carried a quiver with thirty or forty arrows partially drawn out. Besides these, each held in his hand two or three arrows for instant service. Their arrows are barbed with a very clear translucent stone, nearly as hard as the diamond; and shot from their long bow, are almost as effective as a gunshot." These Indians proved not only numerous but troublesome, and finally succeeded in stealing several horses and mules. "Many of these Indians had long sticks, hooked at the end, which they used in hauling out lizards, and other small animals, from their holes. During the day they occasionally roasted and ate lizards at our fires."

Leaving this camp, a march of twenty miles brought them to the Virgin, "the most dreary river I have ever seen—a deep rapid stream, almost a torrent, passing swiftly by, and roaring against obstructions. . . . Crossing it we encamped on the left bank, where we found a little grass. . . . For several days we continued our journey up the river. . . . The sandy soil was absolutely covered with the tracks of Diggers, who followed us stealthily, like a band of wolves. . . . A horse or mule left behind was taken off in a moment. . . . On the morning of the 8th,

NEVADA        83

having travelled 28 miles up the river from our first encampment on it, we encamped at a little grass plat, where a spring of cool water issued from the bluff. On the opposite side was a grove of cottonwoods at the mouth of a fork (Beaver Dam Wash) which here enters the river." At this camp Tabeau, one of the most reliable men of the party, went back on the trail to recover a lost mule, and never returned. In the search for him the place where he had been murdered by the Indians was found, and where his body had been dragged to the banks of the river and thrown into the stream, the ground around being sprinkled with his blood. "Tabeau had been one of our best men, and his untimely death spread a gloom over our party. . . . We wished to avenge his death; but the condition of our horses, languishing for grass and repose, forbade an expedition into unknown mountains. We knew the tribe who had done the mischief—the same which had been insulting our camp. They knew what they deserved, and had the discretion to show themselves to us no more. . . . Our camp was in a basin below a deep canyon—a gap two thousand feet deep in a mountain—through which the Rio Virgin passes, and where no man or beast could follow it. The Spanish Trail, which we had lost in the sands of the basin, was on the opposite side of the river. We crossed over to it, and followed it northwardly to-wards a gap which was visible in the mountains." Crossing the divide the party followed down a ravine into the valley of the Santa Clara, a branch of the Virgin, and encamped. The route was now up the Santa Clara. On May 15 "the river forked; and we continued up the right hand branch, gradually ascending towards the summit of the mountain. . . . Our animals were somewhat repaid for their hard marches by an excellent camping ground on the summit of the ridge, which forms here the dividing chain between the waters of the Rio Virgin, which goes south to the Colorado, and those of the Sevier River, flowing northwardly, and belonging to the Great Basin. We considered ourselves as crossing the rim of the Basin; and entering it at this point, we found here an extensive mountain meadow, rich in bunch grass, and fresh with numerous springs of clear water."

The expedition had been for several days outside the Great Basin, on waters tributary to the Colorado and was within the present state of Utah. About this time Joseph Walker, who, as previously noted, had led a portion of the Chiles party from Fort Hall across to the Humboldt and thence to California by way of Walker's Pass, joined the Fremont expedition. He had set out with the spring caravan from Los Angeles bound for Santa Fe, but finding along the trail signs of a party ahead, and doubtless reading Fremont's note left at Hernandez' Spring, he had pushed on with eight men, all Americans, and by forced marches overtook the party here, and continued with it, acting as guide. Since his return from California, in 1833, he had trapped over the country through which Fremont was now travelling, and was familiar with the streams south of Great Salt Lake, within the Great Basin. Walker informed Fremont that "all the country to the left (west) was unknown to him, and that even the Digger tribes, which frequented Lake Sevier, could tell him nothing about it," even as their forefathers could tell Escalante nothing of it sixty years before. On May 23 the expedition arrived at the Sevier River at its most northerly point, where it bends to the south to enter the lake, and

84        NEVADA