Ross's Adventures of the first settlers on the Oregon or Columbia River, 1810-1813Ross, Alexander
History
Ross's Adventures of the first settlers on the Oregon or Columbia River, 1810-1813
Ross, Alexander
Mississippi River Valley -- Description and travel; United States -- Description and travel; West (U.S.) -- Description and travel
much ado I could stand on my legs. During the night one of the Indians
died in despair, and the other seemed to court death, for he lost all
heart, and would not utter a single word. When the tide began to flow I
was roused by the sense {65} of my danger, for the sound of the breakers
grew louder and louder, and I knew if I got entangled in them in my
exhausted state all was lost; I, therefore, set to with might and main,
as a last effort, to keep the boat out to sea, and at daylight I was
within a quarter of a mile of the breakers, and about double that
distance short of the Cape. I paused for a moment, ‘What is to be done?’
I said to myself; ‘death itself is preferable to this protracted
struggle.’ So, turning the head of my boat for shore, I determined to
reach the land or die in the attempt. Providence favoured my resolution,
the breakers seemed to aid in hurrying me out of the watery element; and
the sun had scarcely risen when the boat was thrown up high and dry on
the beach. I had much ado to extricate myself from her, and to drag my
benumbed limbs along. On seeing myself once more on dry land, I sat down
and felt a momentary relief; but this was followed by gloomy
reflections. I then got into the boat again, and seeing the poor
islander still alive, but insensible, I hauled him out of the boat, and
with much ado carried him to the border of the wood, when covering him
with leaves I left him to die. While gathering the leaves I happened to
come upon a beaten path, which brought me here.” Such was Weeks’s
melancholy story: himself and the Indian being the only survivors of the
last boat, it follows that eight men in all lost their lives in entering
this fatal river.
{66} In the evening the Sandwich Islander who died in the boat was
interred on the beach where the boat came ashore; the other poor fellow
was carried to the ship, and afterwards recovered.
On the 27th I was appointed to head a party to go in search of the boat
that was lost on the 22nd; but after examining the coast for upwards of
forty miles southwards, not a trace of our missing friends was
discovered, nor did we ever learn any tidings of them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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