The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1902-09-19
I'sffsF'F Fs's''z'z
pARTII.
CHAPTER /.

lIuduJ a iOuS year bCAfCO 90 a beAAAANA /
against the advance Of civilization.
From the Sierra Nevada to Ne
braska, and from the Yellowstone riv-
er in the north to the Colorado upon
the south, is a region Of desolation and
silence.
Nor Is nature always in one mood
throughout this grim district. 1t COM
prises snow-capped and lofty noun
tains and dark gloomy valleys.
There are swiftly-flowing rivers
which dash through jagged canyons
and there are enormous plains, which
in winter are white with snow, and in
summer are gray with the saline alkali
dust. They all preserve, however, the
common characteristic OF barrenness,
inhospitality and misery.
There are no inhabitants of this land
OF despair.
| A band Of Pawnees or OF Blackfeet
may occasionally traverse It in order
to reach other hunting grounds, but the
hardest of the braves are glad to lose
sight OF those awesome plains and to
! find themselves once more upon their
prairies.
The coyote skulks among the scrub,
the buzzard flaps heavily through the
air, and the clumsy grizzly bear lum-
bers through the dark ravines, and
picks up such sustenance as 1t can
among the rocks. These are the sole
dwellers in the wilderness.
In the whole world there can be no
more dreary view than that from the
northern slope Of the Sierra Blanco.
/ g.. fTr ooY rpQqh cfrpfpn-
es the great fiat plainland, all busted
over with patches of alkali, and inter
sected by clumps of the dwarfish chap
arral bushes.
On the extreme verge of the horizon
lie a long chain of mountain peaks,
with their rugged SUBMITS f1ecked with
snow. In this great stretch of coun-
try there Is no sign of life, nor of any
thing appertaining to life.
There is no bird in the steel-blue
heaven, no movement upon the dull
gray earth-above all there is abso-
lutte silence. Listen as one may, there
Is no shadow of sound in all that
mighty wilderness; nothing but silence
complete and heart-subduing silence.
. 1t has been said there Is nothing ap-
| W ltAC 0PCh ShO bAOeed RAe~tAs
. That is hardly true.
Looking down from the Sierra Blan-
co, one sees a pathway traced out
, across the desert, which winds away
and Is lost in the extreme distance.
1t is rutted with wheels and trodden
down by the feet of many adventurers.
Here and there are scattered white
objects which glisten in the sun and
! ! stand out against the dull deposit Of
|, alkali.
Approach and examine them! They
are bones; some large and coarse,
Others smaller and more delicate. The
former have belonged to oxen, the
latter to men.
For fifteen hundred miles one may
trace this CHASTITY caravan route by
2 these scattered remains Of those who
: had fallen by the wayside.
Looking down on this very scene
, there stood upon the 4th of May, 1S47
2 solitary traveller.
t His appearance was such that he
: might have been the very genius OF
demon of the region. An observer
$ would have found it difficult to say
: whether he was nearer to forty or to
: sixty.
a His face was lean and haggard, and
: the brown, parchment-like skin was
a drawn tightly over the projecting
e bones; his long, brown hair and beard
+ were all flecked and dashed with
white; his eyes were sunken in his
- head. and burned with an unnatura
e luster, while the hand which graspeC
his rife was hardly more fieshy thar
!, that of skeleton.
Il AS he stood, he leaned upon hii
n weapon for support, and yet his tai
figure and the massive framework o
i his bones suggested wiry and vigor
t GUS constitution.
d His gaunt face, however, and hi
clothes, which hung so baggily owe
n his shriveled limbs, proclaimed wha
d it was that gave him that senile ant
decrepit appearance.
n The man was dying-dying from
hunger and from thirst.
He had toiled painfully down the ra
. vine, and on to this little elevation
2 IN the vain hope Of seeing some sign
of water.
a Now the great salt plain stretche,
: before his eyes, and the distant bel
- of savage mountains, without sig
anywhere of plant or tree which Nigh
= indicate the presence of moisture.
In all that broad landscape tlfer
!, was no gleam of hope. North, an
= east, and west he looked with wild
= questioning eyes, and then he realize
~ that his wanderings had come to a.
end, and that there, on that BARRE
cra0 he was ahOut TO die
~ why not here, as we'll as in featf
er bed, twenty years hence" he nut
q tered, as he seated himself in the she
> ter of bowlder.
le Before sitting down, he had depo:
le tied upon the ground mis- useless rifle
s. and also large bundle tied up In
&c gray shawl. which he had carried stun
over his right shoulder.
,e It appeared to be somewhat to
n heavy for his strength. for, in lowerin
s. 1t, it came down on the ground wit
m some little violence.
III Instantly there broke from the gra
parcel a little moaning cry, and frol
e. It there protruded small, scared fac
te with very bright, brown eyes, and tw
es little speckled, dimpled fists.
e. You've hurt mel" said a childis
voice. reproachfully.
n, Have /, thought" the man 81
It. swered, penitently; Il didn't go for
be do t."
'n As he spoke, he unwrapped the gra
We shawl and extricated a pretty litt
in girl of about five years Of age, who's
dainty shoes and smart pink froe
ly with its little linen apron, all bespoh
be a mothers care.
ct The child was pale and wan, but h
healthy arms and legs showed that 81
ed had suffered less than her companio
X How Is Il now?" he answered, an
We iously. for she was still rubbing u
es towsy-golden curls which covered Il
ge back of her head.
ed kiss II and make 1t WE'LL she sal
Iat with perfect gravity. showing the ]
IS jured part up to him. That's VIII
mother used to do. Where's mother
OK Mothers gone. l guess you'll 81
to her before long"
l." Gone. eh3" said the little gil
lie. Funny. she didn't say goodbye; 81
lie most always did II she was Just goi