"Two Indians joined our party here; and one of them, an old man,
immediately began to harangue us, saying that ourselves and animals
would perish in the snow; and that, if we would go back, he would
show us another and a better way across the mountain. He spoke in
a very loud voice, and there was a singular repetition of phrases
and arrangement of words, which rendered his speech striking, and
not unmusical.

"We had now begun to understand some words, and, with the aid of
signs, easily comprehended the old man's simple ideas. 'Rock upon
rock -- rock upon rock -- snow upon snow -- snow upon snow,' said
he; 'even if you get over the snow, you will not be able to get
down from the mountains.' He made us the sign of precipices, and
showed us how the feet of the horses would slip, and throw them
off from the narrow trails led along their sides. Our Chinook, who
comprehended even more readily than ourselves, and believed our
situation hopeless, covered his head with his blanket, and began
to weep and lament. 'I wanted to see the whites,' said he; 'I came
away from my own people to see the whites, and I wouldn't care to
die among them; but here' -- and he looked around into the cold
night and gloomy forest, and, drawing his blanket over his head,
began again to lament.

"Seated around the tree, the fire illuminating the rocks and the
tall boils of the pines round about, and the old Indian haranguing,
we presented a group of very serious faces.

"February 5. -- The night had been too cold to sleep, and we were
up very early. Our guide was standing by the fire with all his finery
on; and seeing him shiver in the cold, I threw on his shoulders one