Their provisions were now exhausted, and they and their horses almost
ready to give out with fatigue and hunger; when one afternoon, just as
the sun was sinking behind a blue line of distant mountain, they came
to the brow of a height from which they beheld the smooth valley of the
Immahah stretched out in smiling verdure below them.
The sight inspired almost a frenzy of delight. Roused to new ardor,
they forgot, for a time, their fatigues, and hurried down the mountain,
dragging their jaded horses after them, and sometimes compelling them
to slide a distance of thirty or forty feet at a time. At length they
reached the banks of the Immahah. The young grass was just beginning to
sprout, and the whole valley wore an aspect of softness, verdure, and
repose, heightened by the contrast of the frightful region from which
they had just descended. To add to their joy, they observed Indian
trails along the margin of the stream, and other signs, which gave them
reason to believe that there was an encampment of the Lower Nez Perces
in the neighborhood, as it was within the accustomed range of that
pacific and hospitable tribe.
The prospect of a supply of food stimulated them to new exertion, and
they continued on as fast as the enfeebled state of themselves and their
steeds would permit. At length, one of the men, more exhausted than the
rest, threw himself upon the grass, and declared he could go no further.
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