Boss's ADVENTURES ON THE OREGON RIVER. * ALTHOUGH nearly forty years
have elapsed since Mr. Ross embarked in the service of John Jacob Astor to aid in establishing the " Pacific Fur Company," and underwent the experiences this volume narrates, a much earlier appearance might not have added greatly to its attractions. The disputes on the Oregon question have drawn a degree of notice to the country and its occupation, that would not have arisen from its natural features. Washington Irving's unrivalled compilation, Astoria, has made the general reader familiar with the large speculation of Mr. Astor, and the general adventures of the persons who embarked in it, so that there is a ready interest in the subject. Mr. Ross, indeed, is much more literal and prosaic than his predecessor; but we have the other side of the case, with greater freshness in some things than the most skilful compiler could attain to with a commercial correspondence as his main authority. Mr. Ross's narrative, too, has often an inherent interest, arising from the story of the formation of the settlement and the ad- ventures of the fur-traders, which exhibit the life of that hardy and not
very scrupulous race. Mr. Ross appears to have passed his life in the fur regions. His pre-
face, of August 1846, is dated from the Red River Settlement, the only pretence to a colony in the Hudson's Bay territory. Except for a rather nervous anxiety and needless suspicion about the Oregon Indians,—which, however, might have arisen from the novelty of the adventure and geo- graphical position,—we should infer that he may have had something to do with one of the British fur companies before he entered As- tor's service, and was tempted from it by the promise of a fu- ture " partnership." He was one of the party that reached the Oregon River by a sea passage round Cape Horn ; and he places the disputes between Captain Thorne and the partners or directors in a different light from Irving, who seems to have heightened with his humour the Cap- tain's story. We hear nothing of the full-dress visits in kilts and scar- let to the potentates of the Sandwich Islands, or of the marshalled pil- grimage to the spot of Cook's death : the attempts at the interference of the "directors " with the ship are incidentally denied ; though they did re- monstrate when severe discipline was screwed up into cruelty or disre- gard of life, or when the Captain persisted, at starting, in sending the "mechanics," who were also engaged to act as junior clerks, among the common sailors. This was the first ground of offence ; and out of re- venge the directors talked Gaelic, and the Canadians French, neither of which tongues the Captain understood. In return, he made them as uncomfortable as be could, and frightened them thoroughly at Falk- land's Islands. His making sail on the ship, when some of the civilians were disporting themselves on shore, if only a piece of mauvaise
plaisanterie, seems to have fully effected its author's purpose.
"While we were thus eagerly employed, little did we suspect what was going on in another quarter; for, about two o'clock in the afternoon, one of our party called out, The ship's off!'—when all of us, running to the top of a little emi- nence, beheld, to our infinite surprise and dismay, the Tonquin, under fuli sail, steering out of the bay. We knew too well the callous and headstrong passions of the wayward captain to hesitate a moment in determining what to do: with hearts, therefore, beating between anxious hope and despair, some made for the boat, whilst others kept running and firing over bill and dale to warn Messrs. M'Dongal and Stuart, who had not yet returned. In half an hour we were all at the waters edge; the ship by this time was three miles out at sea. We were now nine persons on shore, and we had to stow, squat, and squeeze ourselves into a trumpery little boat, scarcely capable of holding half our number. In this dreadful dilemma, we launched on a rough and tempestuous sea, and, against wind and tide, followed the ship. The wind blowing still fresher and fresher, every succeeding wave threatened our immediate destruction. Our boat already half full of water, and ourselves, as may be supposed, drenched with the surges passing over her, we gave up all hope of succeeding in the unequal struggle; and a momentary pause ensued, when we deliberated whether we should proceed in the perilous attempt or return to land. The ship was now at least two leagues ahead of us; and just at this time the man who was bailing out the water in the boat unfortunately let go and lost the pail, and one of our oars being broken in the struggle to recover it, our destiny seemed sealed beyond a doubt. A second de- liberation ended in the resolve to reach the ship or perish in the attempt. The weather now grew more violent; the wind increased; and, what was worst of all, the sun had just sunk under the horizon, and the fearful night began to spread its darkness over the turbulent deep. Every ray of hope now vanished: but so shortsighted is man, that the moment when he least expects it relief often comes from an unseen hand: and such was our case; for in an instant our hopeless anxiety was turned into joy, by the ship suddenly making down to our assistance. But here again we had a new danger to contend with; for, on coming alongside, we were several times like to be engulfed or dashed to pieces by the heavy seas and rolling of the ship. The night was dark, the weather stormy; • Adventures of the First Settlers on the Oregon or Columbia River: being a Nar- rative of the Expedition fitted out by John Jacob Astor, to establish the " resift Fur Gompany ”; with an Account of some Indian Tribes on the Coast of the Pacific. By Alexander Ross, one of the Adventurers. Published by Smith and Elder. and death in a thousand forms stared us in the face. At length, after many in- effectual attempts and much manteuvering, we succeeded in getting on board; hav- ing been in the boat upwards of six hours. That the captain's determination was to leave us all to our fate, there is not the least doubt; for he declared so afterwards, in a letter written to Mr. Astor from the Sandwich Islands; and he was only prevented from carrying his purposes into effect by the determined con- duct of Mr. Robert Stuart, who, seizing a brace of pistols, peremptorily told the captain to order about ship and save the boat; or, he added, 'Yon are a dead man this instant.' " When the vessel arrived at the Oregon River and had crossed the bar, the first thing to do was to build a "fort " or store-house, while waiting for the arrival of the overland expedition. As soon as matters were got a little to rights, parties were sent out to explore the country, with a view to form small posts, where the officers of the Company might re- side and trade with the Indians. At one of these stations our author was placed ; and of his adventures there, or in making excursions in its neighbourhood, as well as of his observations on the Oakinacken Indians, he gives an account drawn fresh from the originals. The general doings at Fort Astoria, and of the larger exploring enterprises, so long as he was present, may also be considered original ; together with his sketches of the characters of the principal partners, and his critical estimate of the causes that brought about the Company's failure. Accounts of Ore- gon expeditions, undertaken in other directions than the course followed by Mr. Ross himself, and the two overland journies from St. Louis out and home, are from the information of others ; and mostly brief. Ex- cept for the sake of completeness, the overland journies might have been omitted, after the full accounts in Astoria.
Mr. Ross has not much literary skill; and, when removed from the regular trading or travelling business, he has not so much readiness and daring as one looks for in a fur company's adventurer. Neither has he a very comprehensive mind, or a judgment to be depended upon. These traits, though they do not impart value, give a species of character to the book. His anxieties lest the Indians should rob or attack the party when evidently no idea of mischief was in their heads, his accounts of Astor's mismanagement, his complaint of the mischiefs arising from the skippers being made independent of the partners, and several passages where personal feeling predominates, have a racy character, which forms amusing reading. To those who gave any attention to the Oregon question, or are familiar with Astoria, Mr. Ross's volume will be cu- rious from the light it is continually throwing upon both subjects. To those who are not, it will be interesting for its sketches of the Indians, its narratives of adventure, and its pictures of life among the fur-traders. The following is a sample of what may occur to them in a ride home from a friendly visit. " In the evening of the 13th, not far from home, as we were ascending a very steep hill, at the top of which is a vast plain, I and my man had to walk, leaving our horses to shift for themselves and climb up as they could; and so steep and intricate were the windings, that I had to throw off my coat, which, together with my gun, I laid on one of the pack-horses. The moment we reached the top, and before we could gather our horses and look about us, we were overtaken by a tre- mendous cold snow-storm: the sun became instantly obscured, and the wind blew a hurricane. We were taken by surprise. I immediately called out to the men to shift for themselves, and let the horses do the same. Just at this moment I accidentally came in contact with one of the loaded horses, for such was the dark- ness that we could not see three feet ahead; but, unfortunately, it was not the horse on which I had laid my coat and gun. I instantly cut the tyiugs, threw off the load, and mounting on the pack-saddle, rode off at full speed through the deep snow, in the hopes of reaching a well-known place of shelter not far off: but in the darkness and confusion I missed the place, and at last got so benumbed with cold that I could ride no farther ; and besides, my horse was almost exhausted. In this plight 1 dismounted and took to walking, in order to warm myself. But no place of shelter was to be found. Night came on; the storm increased in vio- lence; my horse gave up; and I myself was so exhausted, wandering through the deep snow, that I could go no further. Here I halted, unable to decide what to do. My situation appeared desperate: without my coat, without my gun, with- out even a fire-steel. In such a situation I must perish. At last I resolved on digging a hole in the snow; but in trying to do so I was several times in danger of being suffocated with the drift and eddy. In this dilemma I unsaddled my horse, which stood motionless as a statue in the snow. I put the saddle under me, and the saddle-cloth, about the size of a handkerchief, round my shoulders, then squatted down in the dismal hole, more likely to prove my grave than a shelter. On entering the hole, I said to myself, ' Keep awake, and live: sleep, and die.' I had not been long, however, in this dismal burrow, before the cold, notwithstand- ing my utmost exertions to keep my feet warm, gained so fast upon me that I was obliged to take off my shoes, then pull my trousers, by little and little, over my feet, till at last I had the waistband round my toes; and all would not do. I was now reduced to the last shift, and tried to keep my feet warm at the risk of freezing my body. At last I had scarcely strength to move a limb; the cold was gaining fast upon me; and the inclination to sleep almost overcame me. In this condition I passed the whole night; nor did the morning promise me much re- lief; yet I thought it offered me a glimpse of hope, and that hope induced me to endeavour to break out of my snowy prison. I tried, but in vain, to put on my frozen shoes; I tried again and again before I could succeed. I then dug my saddle out of the snow, and after repeated efforts, reached the horse and put the saddle on ; but could not myself get into the saddle. Ten o'clock next day came before there was any abatement of the storm, and when it did clear up a little I knew not where I was: still it was cheering to see the storm abate. I tried again to get into the saddle; and when I at last succeeded, my half-frozen horse refused to carry me, for he could scarcely lift a leg. I then alighted and tried to walk; but the storm broke out again with redoubled violence. I saw no hope of saving myself but to kill the horse, open hint, and get into his body; and I drew my hunt- ing-knife for the purpose; but then it occurred to me that the body would freeze, and that I could not in that case extricate myself. I therefore abandoned the ides, laid my knife by, and tried again to walk, and again got into the saddle. The storm now abating a little, my horse began to move; and I kept wandering about through the snow till three o'clock in the afternoon, when the storm abated alto- gether; and the sun coming out, I recognized my position. I was then not two miles from my own house; where I arrived at dusk: and it was high time, for I could not have gone much farther; and after all, it was my poor horse that saved me; for had I set out on foot, I should never in my exhausted condition have reached the house."
The management and causes of failure in Astor's gigantic speculation of endeavouring to grasp the whole fur trade of the prairies and of the country beyond the Rocky Mountains, so as to rival the great British companies, and carry a chain of posts for trade, discovery, and colonization head-quarters, across the continent, is continually introduced; and no small blame is attached to Astor and the officer in charge of Fort Astoria. Astor might not allow sufficient discretion to his lieutenants, and might give too much power to his sea-captains : the North-west Company might be unscrupulous in their rivalry, and too sharp for their old friends in the new employ ; and, in despite of his efforts, Astor seems not to have secured men of sufficient resources and comprehension for the foundation of a new trade : they could manage a routine business, but they could not adapt themselves to a new state of things, still less fore- see emergencies and guard against them. The true cause of failure, how- ever, was the British navy. Had the undertaking succeeded in a com- mercial point of view, it would have come to the same untimely end when the Racoon crossed the bar of the Oregon.
Previous page
