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"The Adventures of Captain Bonneville, U. S. A., in the Rocky Mountains and the Far West"

About four miles behind, they had remarked
a small ridge of mountains approaching closely to the river. It was
determined to scale this ridge, and seek a passage into the valley which
must lie beyond. Should they fail in this, but one alternative remained.
To kill their horses, dry the flesh for provisions, make boats of
the hides, and, in these, commit themselves to the stream--a measure
hazardous in the extreme.
A short march brought them to the foot of the mountain, but its steep
and cragged sides almost discouraged hope. The only chance of scaling
it was by broken masses of rock, piled one upon another, which formed
a succession of crags, reaching nearly to the summit. Up these they
wrought their way with indescribable difficulty and peril, in a zigzag
course, climbing from rock to rock, and helping their horses up after
them; which scrambled among the crags like mountain goats; now and then
dislodging some huge stone, which, the moment they had left it, would
roll down the mountain, crashing and rebounding with terrific din. It
was some time after dark before they reached a kind of platform on the
summit of the mountain, where they could venture to encamp. The winds,
which swept this naked height, had whirled all the snow into the valley
beneath, so that the horses found tolerable winter pasturage on the
dry grass which remained exposed. The travellers, though hungry in the
extreme, were fain to make a very frugal supper; for they saw their
journey was likely to be prolonged much beyond the anticipated term.


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