Here, therefore, during
the fishing season, the Snake Indians resort from far and near, to
lay in their stock of salmon, which, with esculent roots, forms the
principal food of the inhabitants of these barren regions.
On the bank of a small stream emptying into Snake River at this place,
Mr. Stuart found an encampment of Shoshonies. He made the usual inquiry
of them concerning the white man of whom he had received intelligence.
No such person was dwelling among them, but they said there were white
men residing with some of their nation on the opposite side of the
river. This was still more animating information. Mr. Crooks now hoped
that these might be the men of his party, who, disheartened by perils
and hardships, had preferred to remain among the Indians. Others thought
they might be Mr. Miller and the hunters who had left the main body at
Henry's Fort, to trap among the mountain streams. Mr. Stuart halted,
therefore, in the neighborhood of the Shoshonie lodges, and sent an
Indian across the river to seek out the white men in question, and bring
them to his camp.
The travellers passed a restless, miserable night. The place swarmed
with myriads of mosquitoes, which, with their stings and their music,
set all sleep at defiance. The morning dawn found them in a feverish,
irritable mood, and their spleen was completely aroused by the return
of the Indian without any intelligence of the white men.
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