builders. The greatest deficiency we felt was the lack of good tools. Old rusty axes and saws, young and tender muscles, and big trees were quite incompatible. But pluck and necessity compelled action, so we hacked away and went on. The east side of the Cascades is but slightly timbered; our teams passed around and under the pine and hemlock trees with ease, but on the west side the trees were thick and the underbrush made every yard or foot even an impassable barrier to our wagons, till ax, saw, or fire demolished or burned the barriers away.
Days and weeks passed and no tidings of the road hunters came. Our men had cut to the head or source of the Little Des Chutes River, close to Mount Hood. The wagons had advanced but twelve miles. We stopped at the long but not very steep hill and waited for the road hunters to return to give us hopeful prospects, for we did not wish to descend it for fear we might have to ascend it again if the fiat were to be, "Thus far and no farther."
The spot where we waited and rested was most beautiful. But for our anxiety for the absent pathfinders, our fears of the winter snows coming on, and the fast diminishing supply ofwhat we considered our ample supply of provisions, we should have enjoyed the panorama like a Mazama. Our anxiety was of short duration, however, for about dark a few days after our halt rifle shots heralded the approach of those whom we awaited. The return salute from half a dozen rifles made the woods ring for miles around. "Tallows" were lighted and men, women, and children went with a rush to meet the stalwart pioneers and learn the fate of future movements. Greetings over, the first thing the old gent said was, "Don't give us much to eat; a little coffee must be food and stimulant too." Mr. Rector said: "Speak for yourself, Barlow; I am going to eat whatever my
