and whence another voyage had to be undertaken in such
poor craft as could be constructed or hired, taking weeks
to complete this portion of the long journey from the
states, in the late and rainy months of the year ; the oxen
and herds being driven down to Vancouver on the north
side of the river, or being left in the upper country to be
herded by the Indians. The rear of the immigration of
1844 remained at Whitman s mission over winter, and
several families at The Dalles. The larger body of 1845
divided, some coming down the river, and others crossing
the Cascade mountains by two routes, but each enduring
the extreme of misery. John Minto, then a young man,
says of 1844: "I found men in the prime of life lying
among the rocks (at the Cascades), seeming ready to die.
I found there mothers with their families, whose hus
bands were snowbound in the Cascade mountains, with
out provisions, and obliged to kill and eat their game
dogs. * * There was scarcely a dry day, and the
snow line was nearly down to the river." These scenes were repeated in 1845 with a greater number of sufferers, one wing of the long column taking a cut-off by follow ing which they became lost, and had all but perished in a desert country. "Despair settled upon the people; old men and children wept together, and the strongest could not speak hopefully." "Only the women," says one nar rator, " continued to show firmness and courage."
The perils and pains of the Plymouth Rock pilgrims were not greater than those of the pioneers of Oregon, and there are few incidents in history more profoundly sad than the narratives of hardships undergone in the settle ment of this country. The names of the men who pioneered the wagon rpad around the base of Mount Hood are worthy of all remembrance. They were Joel Palmer, Henry M. Knighton, W. H. Rector, and Samuel K. Barlow in partic ular; but there were many others, even women, who crossed the mountains late in the year of 1845 on pack horses, barely escaping starvation through the exertions
