Opening of the caches -- Detachments of Cerre and Hodgkiss -- Salmon River Mountains --Superstition of an Indian trapper -- Godin's River -- Preparations for trapping -- An alarm -- Aninterruption -- A rival band -- Phenomena of Snake River Plain -- Vast clefts and chasms --Ingulfed
streams -- Sublime scenery -- A grand buffalo hunt.
CAPTAIN BONNEVILLE found his caches perfectly secure, and having secretly openedthem he
selected such articles as were necessary to equip the free trappers and to supply theinconsiderable
trade with the Indians, after which he closed them again. The free trappers, being newly riggedout
and supplied, were in high spirits, and swaggered gayly about the camp. To compensate all handsfor past sufferings, and to give a cheerful spur to further operations, Captain Bonneville nowgave
the men what, in frontier phrase, is termed "a regular blow-out." It was a day of uncouthgambols
and frolics and rude feasting. The Indians joined in the sports and games, and all was mirth andgood-fellowship.
It was now the middle of March, and Captain Bonneville made preparations to open thespring
campaign. He had pitched upon Malade River for his main trapping ground for the season. Thisis
a stream which rises among the great bed of mountains north of the Lava Plain, and after awinding
course falls into Snake River. Previous to his departure the captain dispatched Mr. Cerre, with afew
men, to visit the Indian villages and purchase horses; he furnished his clerk, Mr. Hodgkiss, also,with
a small stock of goods, to keep up a trade with the Indians during the spring, for such peltries asthey
might collect, appointing the caches on Salmon River as the point of rendezvous, where theywere
to rejoin him on the 15th of June following.
This done he set out for Malade River, with a band of twenty-eight men composed of hiredand free
trappers and Indian hunters, together with eight squaws. Their route lay up along the right fork ofSalmon River, as it passes through the deep defile of the mountains. They travelled very slowly,not
above five miles a day, for many of the horses were so weak that they faltered and staggered asthey
walked. Pasturage, however, was now growing plentiful. There was abundance of fresh grass,which in some places had attained such height as to wave in the wind. The native flocks of thewilderness, the mountain sheep, as they are called by the trappers, were continually to be seenupon
the hills between which they passed, and a good supply of mutton was provided by the hunters,as
they were advancing toward a region of scarcity.
In the course of his journey Captain Bonneville had occasion to remark an instance of themany
notions, and almost superstitions, which prevail among the Indians, and among some of the whitemen, with respect to the sagacity of the beaver. The Indian hunters of his party were in the habitof
exploring all the streams along which they passed, in search of "beaver lodges," and occasionallyset their traps with some success. One of them, however, though an experienced and skilfultrapper,
was invariably unsuccessful. Astonished and mortified at such unusual bad luck, he at lengthconceived the idea that there was some odor about his person of which the beaver got scent andretreated at his approach. He immediately set about a thorough purification. Making a rudesweating-house on the banks of the river, he would shut himself up until in a reekingperspiration, and then
suddenly emerging, would plunge into the river. A number of these sweatings and plungingshaving,
as he supposed, rendered his person perfectly "inodorous," he resumed his trapping withrenovated
hope.
About the beginning of April they encamped upon Godin's River, where they found theswamp full
of "musk-rat houses." Here, therefore, Captain Bonneville determined to remain a few days andmake his first regular attempt at trapping. That his maiden campaign might open with spirit, hepromised the Indians and free trappers an extra price for every musk-rat they should take. Allnow
set to work for the next day's sport. The utmost animation and gayety prevailed throughout thecamp.
Everything looked auspicious for their spring campaign. The abundance of musk-rats in theswamp
was but an earnest of the nobler game they were to find when they should reach the MaladeRiver,
and have a capital beaver country all to themselves, where they might trap at their leisure withoutmolestation.
In the midst of their gayety a hunter came galloping into the camp, shouting, or ratheryelling, "A
trail! a trail! -- lodge poles! lodge poles!"These were words full of meaning to a trapper's ear. They intimated that there was someband in the
neighborhood, and probably a hunting party, as they had lodge poles for an encampment. Thehunter
came up and told his story. He had discovered a fresh trail, in which the traces made by thedragging
of lodge poles were distinctly visible. The buffalo, too, had just been driven out of theneighborhood,
which showed that the hunters had already been on the range.
The gayety of the camp was at an end; all preparations for musk-rat trapping weresuspended, and
all hands sallied forth to examine the trail. Their worst fears were soon confirmed. Infalliblesigns
showed the unknown party in the advance to be white men; doubtless, some rival band oftrappers!
Here was competition when least expected; and that too by a party already in the advance, whowere
driving the game before them. Captain Bonneville had now a taste of the sudden transitions towhich
a trapper's life is subject. The buoyant confidence in an uninterrupted hunt was at an end; everycountenance lowered with gloom and disappointment.
Captain Bonneville immediately dispatched two spies to over-take the rival party, andendeavor to
learn their plans; in the meantime, he turned his back upon the swamp and its musk-rat housesand
