Whenever the
travellers encamped in the afternoon, the horses retired to the gravelly
shores and remained there, without attempting to feed until the cool of
the evening. As to the travellers, they plunged into the clear and cool
current, to wash away the dust of the road and refresh themselves after
the heat of the day. The nights were always cool and pleasant.
At one place where they encamped for some time, the river was nearly
five hundred yards wide, and studded with grassy islands, adorned with
groves of willow and cotton-wood. Here the Indians were assembled in
great numbers, and had barricaded the channels between the islands, to
enable them to spear the salmon with greater facility. They were a timid
race, and seemed unaccustomed to the sight of white men. Entering one
of the huts, Captain Bonneville found the inhabitants just proceeding
to cook a fine salmon. It is put into a pot filled with cold water, and
hung over the fire. The moment the water begins to boil, the fish is
considered cooked.
Taking his seat unceremoniously, and lighting his pipe, the captain
awaited the cooking of the fish, intending to invite himself to the
repast. The owner of the hut seemed to take his intrusion in good part.
While conversing with him the captain felt something move behind him,
and turning round and removing a few skins and old buffalo robes,
discovered a young girl, about fourteen years of age, crouched beneath,
who directed her large black eyes full in his face, and continued to
gaze in mute surprise and terror.
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