In the Rocky MountainsKingston, William Henry Giles
General
In the Rocky Mountains
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Rocky Mountains -- Fiction
Scarcely had I got under shelter when down came the snow, and the whole
face of the country was speedily covered with a sheet of white. How
long the storm might last, I could not tell; it might blow over in one
or two hours, or days might elapse before it ceased. It was too early
in the year, however, to fear the setting in of winter weather, even in
that elevated region, or my condition would indeed have been deplorable.
I had kept an opening through which I could look over the valley, in
case my friends might pass that way. But night came on, and they did
not appear; so, closing up my window, I coiled myself away to sleep, as
the size of my hut would not allow me to stretch myself at full length.
I had little fear that a panther would break into my bower; but I was
not so confident that, should a grizzly scent me out, he might not poke
in his nose. Still I could trust to Him who had hitherto protected me.
I had my knife and my long stick, and, at all events, I might give
Master Bruin an unpleasant scratch on the snout, should he come within
my reach.
Notwithstanding my uncomfortable position, I was soon asleep, and did
not awake until daybreak. Had I possessed any means of cooking my
roots, I might have made a tolerably satisfactory breakfast. Indeed,
although they assisted to sustain life, they were far from wholesome
raw; still, to quell the cravings of hunger, I ate them.
The storm continued to blow with as much violence as on the previous
evening, and, lightly clad as I was, I felt that it would be rash to
continue my course till it was over. I sincerely hoped that Manley and
the sergeant had found suitable shelter. However, as they could light a
fire, and had abundance of food, I was pleased to think that they were
better off than I was.
To employ the time, I tried to manufacture some traps of such materials
as I possessed. I then bethought me that I had a fish-hook in my
pocket; but when I came to search for a line I could find none. I had,
however, a silk neckerchief; and having unravelled this, I twisted it
with the greatest care into a strong thread. It occupied a good deal of
time, but I succeeded in three or four hours in forming a line of
sufficient length for my purpose. I had plenty of loose shot, too,
which I split for weights. I then carefully rolled up the line round a
piece of wood, ready for use as soon as I should reach a lake or stream
likely to contain trout.
The storm lasted upwards of two days. Although my journey was thus
delayed, I felt sure my friends would likewise have been prevented from
travelling, and thus I was none the less likely to meet them. At length
the wind subsided, the clouds dispersed, and the sun shone forth with
dazzling brightness on the snow, which began quickly to disappear
beneath his rays.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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