The Camp Reached on February 4, 1844 Charity Valley Frémont, February 4, 1844: The
camp had been occupied all the day in endeavoring to ascend
the hill, but only the best horses had succeeded; the
animals, generally, not having sufficient strength to bring
themselves up without packs; and all the line of the road
between this and the springs was strewed with camp-stores
and equipage, and horses floundering in the snow. I therefor
immediately encamped on the ground with my own mess, which
was in advance, and directed Mr. Fitzpatrick to encamp at
the springs, and send all the animals, in charge of Tabeau,
with a strong guard, back to the place where they had been
pastured the night before. Frémont: To-night we had no shelter, but we made a large fire around one of the huge pines; and covering the snow with small boughs, on which we spread our blankets, soon made ourselves comfortable. The night was very bright and clear, though the thermometer was only at 10°. A strong wind, which sprang up at sundown, made it intensely cold; and this was one of the bitterest nights during the journey.
"Rock upon rock - rock upon rock - 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 that 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 bolls of the pines round about, we presented a group of very serious faces. Rock upon rock! Snow upon snow! The Battle of Carson Pass. The position of this place by GPS is N38° 40' 57"
W119° 53' 42".
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Here
was a small spot of level ground, protected on one side by
the mountain, and on the other by a little ridge of rock. It
was an open grove of pines, which assimilated the grandeur
of the mountain [Markleeville Peak], being
frequently six feet in diameter.
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 to cross 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 of the words [Washo
language], and, with the aid of signs, easily
comprehended the old man's ideas.
