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Tracks of a Rolling Stone-Part26_Henry J.Coke(1827-1916)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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It was night-time when we came to one of the great falls. We

were able here to get at water; and having halted through the



day, on account of the heat, kept on while our animals were

refreshed. We had to ascend the banks again, and wind along



the brink of the precipice. From this the view was

magnificent. The moon shone brightly upon the dancing waves



hundreds of feet below us, and upon the rapids which extended

as far as we could see. The deep shade of the high cliffs



contrasted in its impenetrable darkness with the brilliancy

of the silvery foam. The vast plain which we overlooked,



fading in the soft light, rose gradually into a low range of

distant hills. The incessant roar of the rapids, and the



desert stillness of all else around, though they lulled one's

senses, yet awed one with a feeling of insignificance and



impotence in the presence of such ruthless force, amid such

serene and cold indifference. Unbidden, the consciousness



was there, that for some of us the coming struggle with those

mighty waters was fraught with life or death.



At last we came upon a broad stretch of the river which

seemed to offer the possibilities we sought for. Rather late



in the afternoon we decided to cross here, notwithstanding

William's strong reluctance to make the venture. Part of his



unwillingness was, I knew, due to apprehension, part to his

love of fishing. Ever since we came down upon the Snake



River we had seen quantities of salmon. He persisted in the

belief that they were to be caught with the rod. The day



before, all three of us had waded into the river, and flogged

it patiently for a couple of hours, while heavy fish were



tumbling about above and below us. We caught plenty of

trout, but never pricked a salmon. Here the broad reach was



alive with them, and William begged hard to stop for the

afternoon and pursue the gentle sport. It was not to be.



The tactics were as usual. Samson led the way, holding the

lariat to which the two spare horses were attached. In



crossing streams the mules would always follow the horses.

They were accordingly let loose, and left to do so. William



and I brought up the rear, driving before us any mule that

lagged. My journal records the sequel:



'At about equal distances from each other and the main land

were two small islands. The first of these we reached



without trouble. The second was also gained; but the packs

were wetted, the current being exceedingly rapid. The space



remaining to be forded was at least two hundred yards; and

the stream so strong that I was obliged to turn my mare's



head up it to prevent her being carried off her legs. While

thus resting, William with difficulty, - the water being over



his knees, - sidled up to me. He wanted to know if I still

meant to cross. For all answer, I laughed at him. In truth



I had not the smallest misgiving. Strong as was the current,

the smooth rocky bottom gave a good foothold to the animals;



and, judging by the great width of the river, there was no

reason to suppose that its shallowness would not continue.



'We paused for a few minutes to observe Samson, who was now

within forty or fifty yards of the opposite bank; and, as I



concluded, past all danger. Suddenly, to the astonishment of

both of us, he and his horse and the led animals disappeared



under water; the next instant they were struggling and

swimming for the bank. Tied together as they were, there was



a deal of snorting and plunging; and Samson (with his

habitual ingenuity) had fastened the lariat either to himself



or his saddle; so that he was several times dragged under

before they all got to the bank in safety.



'These events were watched by William with intense anxiety.

With a pitiable look of terror he assured me he could not



swim a yard; it was useless for him to try to cross; he would

turn back, and find his way to Salt Lake City.



'"But," I remonstrated, "if you turn back, you will certainly

starve; everything we possess is over there with the mules;



your blanket, even your rifle, are with the packs. It is

impossible to get the mules back again. Give little Cream



her head, sit still in your saddle, and she'll carry you




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