The Pioneer Boys of the Columbia; or, In the Wilderness of the Great NorthwestRathborne, St. George
General
The Pioneer Boys of the Columbia; or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest
Rathborne, St. George
Columbia River -- Juvenile fiction; Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction
It was evident to every one that the party was now approaching the
foothills of those great mountains of which so much had been heard.
Captain Lewis knew that, in order to cross them with as little hard
work as possible, they must head for a pass of which they had been told
by some of the Indians. Unless they could find this, their efforts
would be in vain, and they must turn back, defeated in their daring
plans.
Three days after leaving their comrades the advancing party came to a
good camping ground early in the afternoon, and, as the horses were
really in need of a rest, it was concluded to stop here for the night.
This was an opportunity the two boys had been waiting for, and they had
little difficulty in getting permission from the commander to indulge
themselves in a short hunt.
The camp was in need of fresh meat, though not desperately so; and
if only a deer could be taken it would afford them a few good meals.
Captain Lewis, knowing Roger's headstrong ways, took particular pains
to caution them before they set out.
"See that you take no unnecessary chances, my boys," was what he had
said. "We would be very sorry, indeed, to have to bear your parents
bad news when next we see St. Louis. But I feel that, so long as Dick
is along, you will be careful. And, if you can bring the carcass of a
young deer back with you, so much the better."
It was a fine afternoon in late summer. There did not seem to be any
sign of stormy weather in prospect, from which fact the boys felt sure
they would not be compelled to look for a hollow tree as before.
First of all they were wise enough to take their bearings, for they
certainly did not want to lose themselves in the vast wilderness, since
they could no longer depend on finding their friends by simply hunting
for the river.
Then the next thing was to hunt up into the wind. This was, of course,
done so that if they were approaching some keen-nosed game the animal
might not scent their presence, and depart before they could get a
chance to fire a single shot.
It was a wild section of country. They could see, beyond, the mighty
barrier of mountains that stood between them and their goal. The woods
were composed of scrub trees, with openings here and there; though in
most sections, east of the chain of mountains, prairie land existed.
From where they looked up to the dizzy heights, the sides of the
mountains seemed bleak and rocky. They had been told, however, that on
the western slope vegetation grew plentifully, as the winds from the
ocean brought much rain, though little of this crossed the divide.
The boys pursued their hunt for nearly an hour without coming upon any
game, although they saw plenty of signs of it, and were always counting
on making a discovery. Versed in forest lore, they knew how to creep
along without making any sound likely to give warning of their approach.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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