Life of Kit Carson, the Great Western Hunter and GuideBurdett, Charles
History
Life of Kit Carson, the Great Western Hunter and Guide
Burdett, Charles
Carson Kit, 1809-1868; Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.)
"In the course of the morning we discovered that two of the cylinders
leaked so much as to require one man constantly at the bellows, to keep
them sufficiently full of air to support the boat. Although we had made
a very early start, we loitered so much on the way--stopping every now
and then, and floating silently along, to get a shot at a goose or a
duck--that it was late in the day when we reached the outlet. The river
here divided into several branches, filled with fluvials, and so very
shallow that it was with difficulty we could get the boat along, being
obliged to get out and wade. We encamped on a low point among rushes and
young willows, where there was a quantity of driftwood, which served for
our fires. The evening was mild and clear; we made a pleasant bed of the
young willows; and geese and ducks enough had been killed for an
abundant supper at night, and for breakfast next morning. The stillness
of the night was enlivened by millions of water-fowl.
"_Sept. 9._--The day was clear and calm; the thermometer at sunrise at
49°. As is usual with the trappers on the eve of any enterprise, our
people had made dreams, and theirs happened to be a bad one--one which
always preceded evil--and consequently they looked very gloomy this
morning; but we hurried through our breakfast, in order to make an early
start, and have all the day before us for our adventure. The channel in
a short distance became so shallow that our navigation was at an end,
being merely a sheet of soft mud, with a few inches of water, and
sometimes none at all, forming the low-water shore of the lake. All this
place was absolutely covered with flocks of screaming plover. We took
off our clothes, and, getting overboard, commenced dragging the
boat--making, by this operation, a very curious trail, and a very
disagreeable smell in stirring up the mud, as we sank above the knee at
every step. The water here was still fresh, with only an insipid and
disagreeable taste, probably derived from the bed of fetid mud. After
proceeding in this way about a mile, we came to a small black ridge on
the bottom, beyond which the water became suddenly salt, beginning
gradually to deepen, and the bottom was sandy and firm. It was a
remarkable division, separating the fresh water of the rivers from the
briny water of the lake, which was entirely _saturated_ with common
salt. Pushing our little vessel across the narrow boundary, we sprang
on board, and at length were afloat on the waters of the unknown sea.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account