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The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Exploring Expedition to the Rocky
Mountains, Oregon and California, by Brevet Col. J.C. Fremont

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Title: The Exploring Expedition to the Rocky Mountains, Oregon and California
       To Which Is Added a Description of the Physical Geography of California,
       with Recent Notices of the Gold Region from the Latest and Most Authentic
       Sources

Author: Brevet Col. J.C. Fremont

Release Date: November, 2005 [EBook #9294]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on September 16, 2003]

Edition: 10

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EXPLORING EXPEDITION TO THE ROCKIES***




Produced by Larry Mittell and PG Distributed Proofreaders




FIFTEENTH THOUSAND.

THE
EXPLORING EXPEDITION
TO THE
ROCKY MOUNTAINS,
OREGON AND CALIFORNIA,


BY BREVET COL. J.C. FREMONT.


TO WHICH IS ADDED A DESCRIPTION OF THE
PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY OF CALIFORNIA.

WITH RECENT NOTICES OF
THE GOLD REGION
FROM THE LATEST AND MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES.

1852


*       *       *       *       *


PREFACE.

No work has appeared from the American press within the past few years
better calculated to interest the community at large than Colonel J.C.
Fremont's Narrative of his Exploring Expedition to the Rocky Mountains,
Oregon, and North California, undertaken by the orders of the United
States government.

Eminently qualified for the task assigned him, Colonel Fremont entered
upon his duties with alacrity, and has embodied in the following pages the
results of his observations. The country thus explored is daily making
deeper and more abiding impressions upon the minds of the people, and
information is eagerly sought in regard to its natural resources, its
climate, inhabitants, productions, and adaptation for supplying the wants
and providing the comforts for a dense population. The day is not far
distant when that territory, hitherto so little known, will be intersected
by railroads, its waters navigated, and its fertile portions peopled by an
active and intelligent population.

To all persons interested in the successful extension of our free
institutions over this now wilderness portion of our land, this work of
Fremont commends itself as a faithful and accurate statement of the
present state of affairs in that country.

Since the preparation of this report, Colonel Fremont has been engaged in
still farther explorations by order of the government, the results of
which will probably be presented to the country as soon as he shall be
relieved from his present arduous and responsible station. He is now
engaged in active military service in New Mexico, and has won imperishable
renown by his rapid and successful subjugation of that country.

The map accompanying this edition is not the one prepared by the order of
government, but it is one that can be relied upon for its accuracy.

July, 1847.



*       *       *       *       *


ADVERTISEMENT TO THE NEW EDITION.

The dreams of the visionary have "come to pass!" the unseen El Dorado of
the "fathers" looms, in all its virgin freshness and beauty, before the
eyes of their children! The "set time" for the Golden age, the advent of
which has been looked for and longed for during many centuries of iron
wrongs and hardships, has fully come. In the sunny clime of the south
west--in Upper California--may be found the modern Canaan, a land "flowing
with milk and honey," its mountains studded and its rivers lined and
choked, with gold!

He who would know more of this rich and rare land before commencing his
pilgrimage to its golden bosom, will find, in the last part of this new
edition of a most deservedly popular work, a succinct yet comprehensive
account of its inexhaustible riches and its transcendent loveliness, and a
fund of much needed information in regard to the several routes which lead
to its inviting borders.

January 1849.




*       *       *       *       *


A REPORT

ON

AN EXPLORATION OF THE COUNTRY
LYING BETWEEN THE
MISSOURI RIVER AND THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS,

ON THE LINE OF THE
KANSAS AND GREAT PLATTE RIVERS.



*       *       *       *       *


Washington, March 1, 1843.

To Colonel J.J. Abert, _Chief of the Corps of Top. Eng._

Sir: Agreeably to your orders to explore and report upon the country
between the frontiers of Missouri and the South Pass in the Rocky
Mountains, and on the line of the Kansas and Great Platte rivers, I set
out from Washington city on the 2d day of May, 1842, and arrived at St.
Louis by way of New York, the 22d of May, where the necessary preparations
were completed, and the expedition commenced. I proceeded in a steamboat
to Chouteau's landing, about four hundred miles by water from St. Louis,
and near the mouth of the Kansas river, whence we proceeded twelve miles
to Mr. Cyprian Chouteau's trading-house, where we completed our final
arrangements for the expedition.

Bad weather, which interfered with astronomical observations, delayed us
several days in the early part of June at this post, which is on the right
bank of the Kansas river, about ten miles above the mouth, and six beyond
the western boundary of Missouri. The sky cleared off at length and we
were enabled to determine our position, in longitude 90 deg. 25' 46", and
latitude 39 deg. 5' 57". The elevation above the sea is about 700 feet. Our
camp, in the mean time, presented an animated and bustling scene. All were
busily engaged in completing the necessary arrangements for our campaign
in the wilderness, and profiting by this short stay on the verge of
civilization, to provide ourselves with all the little essentials to
comfort in the nomadic life we were to lead for the ensuing summer months.
Gradually, however, every thing--the _materiel_ of the camp--men,
horses, and even mules--settled into its place; and by the 10th we were
ready to depart; but, before we mount our horses, I will give a short
description of the party with which I performed the service.

I had collected in the neighborhood of St. Louis twenty-one men,
principally Creole and Canadian _voyageurs_, who had become familiar
with prairie life in the service of the fur companies in the Indian
country. Mr. Charles Preuss, native of Germany, was my assistant in the
topographical part of the survey; L. Maxwell, of Kaskaskia, had been
engaged as hunter, and Christopher Carson (more familiarly known, for his
exploits in the mountains, as Kit Carson) was our guide. The persons
engaged in St. Louis were:

Clement Lambert, J.B. L'Esperance, J.B. Lefevre, Benjamin Potra, Louis
Gouin, J.B. Dumes, Basil Lajeunesse, Francois Tessier, Benjamin Cadotte,
Joseph Clement, Daniel Simonds, Leonard Benoit, Michel Morly, Baptiste
Bernier, Honore Ayot, Francois La Tulipe, Francis Badeau, Louis Menard,
Joseph Ruelle, Moise Chardonnais, Auguste Janisse, Raphael Proue.

In addition to these, Henry Brant, son of Col. J.B. Brant, of St. Louis, a
young man of nineteen years of age, and Randolph, a lively boy of twelve,
son of the Hon. Thomas H. Benton, accompanied me, for the development of
mind and body such an expedition would give. We were well armed and
mounted, with the exception of eight men, who conducted as many carts, in
which were packed our stores, with the baggage and instruments, and which
were drawn by two mules. A few loose horses, and four oxen, which had been
added to our stock of provisions, completed the train. We set out on the
morning of the 10th, which happened to be Friday, a circumstance which our
men did not fail to remember and recall during the hardships and vexations
of the ensuing journey. Mr. Cyprian Chouteau, to whose kindness, during
our stay at his house, we were much indebted, accompanied us several miles
on our way, until we met an Indian, whom he had engaged to conduct us on
the first thirty or forty miles, where he was to consign us to the ocean
of prairie, which, we were told, stretched without interruption almost to
the base of the Rocky Mountains.

From the belt of wood which borders the Kansas, in which we had passed
several good-looking Indian farms, we suddenly emerged on the prairies,
which received us at the outset with some of their striking
characteristics; for here and there rode an Indian, and but a few miles
distant heavy clouds of smoke were rolling before the fire. In about ten
miles we reached the Santa Fe road, along which we continued for a short
time, and encamped early on a small stream--having traveled about eleven
miles. During our journey, it was the customary practice to encamp an hour
or two before sunset, when the carts were disposed so as to form a sort of
barricade around a circle some eighty yards in diameter. The tents were
pitched, and the horses hobbled and turned loose to graze; and but a few
minutes elapsed before the cooks of the messes, of which there were four,
were busily engaged in preparing the evening meal. At nightfall, the
horses, mules, and oxen were driven in and picketed,--that is, secured by
a halter, of which one end was tied to a small steel-shod picket, and
driven into the ground; the halter being twenty or thirty feet long, which
enabled them to obtain a little food during the night. When we had reached
a part of the country where such a precaution became necessary, the carts
being regularly arranged for defending the camp, guard was mounted at
eight o'clock, consisting of three men, who were relieved every two hours
--the morning-watch being horse-guard for the day. At daybreak the camp was
roused, the animals turned loose to graze, and breakfast generally over
between six and seven o'clock, when we resumed our march, making regularly
a halt at noon for one or two hours. Such was usually the order of the
day, except when accident of country forced a variation; which, however,
happened but rarely. We traveled the next day along the Santa Fe road,
which we left in the afternoon, and encamped late in the evening on a
small creek, called by the Indians, Mishmagwi. Just as we arrived at camp,
one of the horses set off at full speed on his return, and was followed by
others. Several men were sent in pursuit, and returned with the fugitives
about midnight, with the exception of one man, who did not make his
appearance until morning. He had lost his way in the darkness of the
night, and slept on the prairie. Shortly after midnight it began to rain
heavily, and, as our tents were of light and thin cloth, they offered but
little obstruction to the rain: we were all well soaked, and glad when
morning came. We had a rainy march on the 12th, but the weather grew fine
as the day advanced. We encamped in a remarkably beautiful situation on
the Kansas bluffs, which commanded a fine view of the river valley, here
from four to five miles wide. The central portion was occupied by a broad
belt of heavy timber, and nearer the hills the prairies were of the
richest verdure. One of the oxen was killed here for food.

We reached the ford of the Kansas late in the afternoon of the 14th, where
the river was two hundred and thirty yards wide, and commenced,
immediately, preparations for crossing. I had expected to find the river
fordable; but it had swollen by the late rains, and was sweeping by with
an angry current, yellow and turbid as the Missouri. Up to this point the
road we had traveled was a remarkably fine one, well beaten, and level--
the usual road of a prairie country. By our route, the ford was one
hundred miles from the mouth of the Kansas river. Several mounted men led
the way into the stream to swim across. The animals were driven in after
them, and in a few minutes all had reached the opposite bank in safety,
with the exception of the oxen, which swam some distance down the river,
and, returning to the right bank, were not got over till the next morning.
In the mean time, the carts had been unloaded and dismantled, and an
India-rubber boat, which I had brought with me for the survey of the
Platte river, placed in the water. The boat was twenty feet long and five
broad, and on it were placed the body and wheels of a cart, with the load
belonging to it, and three men with paddles.

The velocity of the current, and the inconvenient freight, rendering it
difficult to be managed, Basil Lajeunesse, one of our best swimmers, took
in his teeth a line attached to the boat, and swam ahead in order to reach
a footing as soon as possible, and assist in drawing her over. In this
manner six passages had been successfully made, and as many carts with
their contents, and a greater portion of the party, deposited on the left
bank; but night was drawing near, and, in our anxiety to have all over
before the darkness closed in, I put upon the boat the remaining two
carts, with their accompanying load. The man at the helm was timid on
water, and in his alarm capsized the boat. Carts, barrels, boxes, and
bales, were in a moment floating down the current; but all the men who
were on the shore jumped into the water, without stopping to think if they
could swim, and almost every thing--even heavy articles, such as guns and
lead--was recovered.

Two of the men who could not swim came nigh being drowned, and all the
sugar belonging to one of the messes wasted its sweets on the muddy
waters; but our heaviest loss was a large bag of coffee, which contained
nearly all our provision. It was a loss which none but a traveler in a
strange and inhospitable country can appreciate; and often afterward, when
excessive toil and long marching had overcome us with fatigue and
weariness, we remembered and mourned over our loss in the Kansas. Carson
and Maxwell had been much in the water yesterday, and both, in
consequence, were taken ill. The former continuing so, I remained in camp.
A number of Kansas Indians visited us to-day. Going up to one of the
groups who were scattered among the trees, I found one sitting on the
ground, among some of the men, gravely and fluently speaking French, with
as much facility and as little embarrassment as any of my own party, who
were nearly all of French origin.

On all sides was heard the strange language of his own people, wild, and
harmonizing well with their appearance. I listened to him for some time
with feelings of strange curiosity and interest. He was now apparently
thirty-five years of age; and, on inquiry, I learned that he had been at
St. Louis when a boy, and there had learned the French language. From one
of the Indian women I obtained a fine cow and calf in exchange for a yoke
of oxen. Several of them brought us vegetables, pumpkins, onions, beans,
and lettuce. One of them brought butter, and from a half-breed near the
river, I had the good fortune to obtain some twenty or thirty pounds of
coffee. The dense timber in which we had encamped interfered with
astronomical observations, and our wet and damaged stores required
exposure to the sun. Accordingly, the tents were struck early the next
morning, and, leaving camp at six o'clock, we moved about seven miles up
the river, to a handsome, open prairie, some twenty feet above the water,
where the fine grass afforded a luxurious repast to our horses.

During the day we occupied ourselves in making astronomical observations,
in order to lay down the country to this place; it being our custom to
keep up our map regularly in the field, which we found attended with many
advantages. The men were kept busy in drying the provisions, painting the
cart covers, and otherwise completing our equipage, until the afternoon,
when powder was distributed to them, and they spent some hours in firing
at a mark. We were now fairly in the Indian country, and it began to be
time to prepare for the chances of the wilderness.

17th.--The weather yesterday had not permitted us to make the observations
I was desirous to obtain here, and I therefore did not move to-day. The
people continued their target firing. In the steep bank of the river here,
were nests of innumerable swallows, into one of which a large prairie
snake had got about half his body, and was occupied in eating the young
birds. The old ones were flying about in great distress, darting at him,
and vainly endeavoring to drive him off. A shot wounded him, and, being
killed, he was cut open, and eighteen young swallows were found in his
body. A sudden storm, that burst upon us in the afternoon, cleared away in
a brilliant sunset, followed by a clear night, which enabled us to
determine our position in longitude 95 deg. 38' 05", and in latitude 39 deg. 06'
40".

A party of emigrants to the Columbia river, under the charge of Dr. White,
an agent of the government in Oregon Territory, were about three weeks in
advance of us. They consisted of men, women, and children. There were
sixty-four men, and sixteen or seventeen families. They had a considerable
number of cattle, and were transporting their household furniture in
large, heavy wagons. I understood that there had been much sickness among
them, and that they had lost several children. One of the party who had
lost his child, and whose wife was very ill, had left them about one
hundred miles hence on the prairies; and as a hunter, who had accompanied
them, visited our camp this evening, we availed ourselves of his return to
the States to write to our friends.

The morning of the 18th was very unpleasant. A fine rain was falling, with
cold wind from the north, and mists made the river hills look dark and
gloomy. We left our camp at seven, journeying along the foot of the hills
which border the Kansas valley, generally about three miles wide, and
extremely rich. We halted for dinner, after a march of about thirteen
miles, on the banks of one of the many little tributaries to the Kansas,
which look like trenches in the prairie, and are usually well timbered.
After crossing this stream, I rode off some miles to the left, attracted
by the appearance of a cluster of huts near the mouth of the Vermilion. It
was a large but deserted Kansas village, scattered in an open wood, along
the margin of the stream, chosen with the customary Indian fondness for
beauty of scenery. The Pawnees had attacked it in the early spring. Some
of the houses were burnt, and others blackened with smoke, and weeds were
already getting possession of the cleared places. Riding up the Vermilion
river, I reached the ford in time to meet the carts, and, crossing,
encamped on its western side. The weather continued cold, the thermometer
being this evening as low as 49 deg.; but the night was sufficiently clear for
astronomical observations, which placed us in longitude 96 deg. 04' 07", and
latitude 39 deg. 15' 19". At sunset, the barometer was at 28.845, thermometer
64 deg..

We breakfasted the next morning at half-past five, and left our encampment
early. The morning was cool, the thermometer being at 45 deg.. Quitting the
river bottom, the road ran along the uplands, over a rolling country,
generally in view of the Kansas from eight to twelve miles distant. Many
large boulders, of a very compact sandstone, of various shades of red,
some of them of four or five tons in weight, were scattered along the
hills; and many beautiful plants in flower, among which the _amorpha
canescens_ was a characteristic, enlivened the green of the prairie. At
the heads of the ravines I remarked, occasionally, thickets of _saix
longifolia_, the most common willow of the country. We traveled
nineteen miles and pitched our tents at evening on the head-waters of a
small creek, now nearly dry, but having in its bed several fine springs.
The barometer indicated a considerable rise in the country--here about
fourteen hundred feet above the sea--and the increased elevation appeared
already to have some slight influence upon vegetation. The night was cold,
with a heavy dew; the thermometer at 10 P.M. standing at 46 deg., barometer
28.483. Our position was in longitude 96 deg. 14' 49", and latitude 39 deg. 30'
40".

The morning of the 20th was fine, with a southerly breeze and a bright
sky; and at seven o'clock we were on the march. The country to-day was
rather more broken, rising still, and covered everywhere with fragments of
silicious limestone, particularly on the summits, where they were small,
and thickly strewed as pebbles on the shore of the sea. In these exposed
situations grew but few plants; though, whenever the soil was good and
protected from the winds, in the creek bottoms and ravines, and on the
slopes, they flourished abundantly; among them the _amorpha_, still
retaining its characteristic place. We crossed, at 10 A.M. the Big
Vermilion, which has a rich bottom of about one mile in breadth, one-third
of which is occupied by timber. Making our usual halt at noon, after a
day's march of twenty-four miles, we reached the Big Blue, and encamped on
the uplands of the western side, near a small creek, where was a fine
large spring of very cold water. This is a clear and handsome stream,
about one hundred and twenty feet wide, running with a rapid current,
through a well-timbered valley. To-day antelope were seen running over the
hills, and at evening Carson brought us a fine deer. Longitude of the camp
96 deg. 32' 35", latitude 39 deg. 45' 08". Thermometer at sunset 75 deg.. A pleasant
southerly breeze and fine morning had given place to a gale, with
indications of bad weather; when, after a march of ten miles, we halted to
noon on a small creek, where the water stood in deep pools. In the bank of
the creek limestone made its appearance in a stratum about one foot thick.
In the afternoon, the people seemed to suffer for want of water. The road
led along a high dry ridge; dark lines of timber indicated the heads of
streams in the plains below; but there was no water near, and the day was
oppressive, with a hot wind, and the thermometer at 90 deg.. Along our route
the _amorpha_ has been in very abundant but variable bloom--in some
places bending beneath the weight of purple clusters; in others without a
flower. It seemed to love best the sunny slopes, with a dark soil and
southern exposure. Everywhere the rose is met with, and reminds us of
cultivated gardens and civilization. It is scattered over the prairies in
small bouquets, and, when glittering in the dews and waving in the
pleasant breeze of the early morning, is the most beautiful of the prairie
flowers. The _artemisia_, absinthe, or prairie sage, as it is
variously called, is increasing in size, and glittering like silver, as
the southern breeze turns up its leaves to the sun. All these plants have
their insect inhabitants, variously colored--taking generally the hue of
the flower on which they live. The _artemisia_ has its small fly
accompanying it through every change of elevation and latitude; and
wherever I have seen the _asclepias tuberosa_, I have always
remarked, too, on the flower a large butterfly, so nearly resembling it in
color as to be distinguishable at a little distance only by the motion of
its wings. Traveling on, the fresh traces of the Oregon emigrants relieve
a little the loneliness of the road; and to-night, after a march of
twenty-two miles, we halted on a small creek which had been one of their
encampments. As we advanced westward, the soil appears to be getting more
sandy; and the surface rock, an erratic deposite of sand and gravel, rests
here on a bed of coarse yellow and gray and very friable sandstone.
Evening closed over with rain and its usual attendant hordes of
mosquitoes, with which we were annoyed for the first time.

22d.--We enjoyed at breakfast this morning a luxury, very unusual in this
country, in a cup of excellent coffee, with cream, from our cow. Being
milked at night, cream was thus had in the morning. Our mid-day halt was
at Wyeth's creek, in the bed of which were numerous boulders of dark,
ferruginous sandstone, mingled with others of the red sandstone already
mentioned. Here a pack of cards, lying loose on the grass, marked an
encampment of our Oregon emigrants; and it was at the close of the day
when we made our bivouac in the midst of some well-timbered ravines near
the Little Blue, twenty-four miles from our camp of the preceding night.
Crossing the next morning a number of handsome creeks, with water clear
and sandy beds we reached, at 10 A.M., a very beautiful wooded stream,
about thirty-five feet wide, called Sandy creek, and sometimes, as the
Ottoes frequently winter there, the Otto fork. The country has become very
sandy, and the plants less varied and abundant, with the exception of the
_amorpha_, which rivals the grass in quantity, though not so forward
as it has been found to the eastward.

At the Big Trees, where we had intended to noon, no water was to be found.
The bed of the little creek was perfectly dry, and, on the adjacent sandy
bottom, _cacti_, for the first time made their appearance. We made
here a short delay in search of water; and, after a hard day's march of
twenty-eight miles, encamped, at 5 o'clock, on the Little Blue, where our
arrival made a scene of the Arabian desert. As fast as they arrived men
and horses rushed into the stream, where they bathed and drank together in
common enjoyment. We were now in the range of the Pawnees, who were
accustomed to infest this part of the country, stealing horses from
companies on their way to the mountains; and, when in sufficient force,
openly attacking and plundering them, and subjecting them to various kinds
of insult. For the first time, therefore, guard was mounted to-night. Our
route the next morning lay up the valley, which, bordered by hills with
graceful slopes, looked uncommonly green and beautiful. The stream was
about fifty feet wide, and three or four deep, fringed by cotton-wood and
willow, with frequent groves of oak, tenanted by flocks of turkeys. Game
here, too, made its appearance in greater plenty. Elk were frequently seen
on the hills, and now and then an antelope bounded across our path, or a
deer broke from the groves. The road in the afternoon was over the upper
prairies, several miles from the river, and we encamped at sunset on one
of its small tributaries, where an abundance of prele (_equisetum_)
afforded fine forage to our tired animals. We had traveled thirty-one
miles. A heavy bank of black clouds in the west came on us in a storm
between nine and ten, preceded by a violent wind. The rain fell in such
torrents that it was difficult to breathe facing the wind; the thunder
rolled incessantly, and the whole sky was tremulous with lightning--now
and then illuminated by a blinding flash, succeeded by pitchy darkness.
Carson had the watch from ten to midnight, and to him had been assigned
our young _compagnons de voyage_, Messrs. Brant and R. Benton. This
was their first night on guard, and such an introduction did not augur
very auspiciously of the pleasures of the expedition. Many things
conspired to render their situation uncomfortable; stories of desperate
and bloody Indian fights were rife in the camp; our position was badly
chosen, surrounded on all sides by timbered hollows, and occupying an area
of several hundred feet, so that necessarily the guards were far apart;
and now and then I could hear Randolph, as if relieved by the sound of a
voice in the darkness, calling out to the sergeant of the guard, to direct
his attention to some imaginary alarm; but they stood it out, and took
their turn regularly afterwards.

The next morning we had a specimen of the false alarms to which all
parties in these wild regions are subject. Proceeding up the valley,
objects were seen on the opposite hills, which disappeared before a glass
could be brought to bear upon them. A man who was a short distance in the
rear, came springing up in great haste, shouting "Indians! Indians!" He
had been near enough to see and count them, according to his report, and
had made out twenty-seven. I immediately halted; arms were examined and
put in order; the usual preparations made; and Kit Carson, springing upon
one of the hunting horses, crossed the river, and galloped off into the
opposite prairies, to obtain some certain intelligence of their movements.

Mounted on a fine horse, without a saddle, and scouring bare-headed over
the prairies, Kit was one of the finest pictures of a horseman I have ever
seen. A short time enabled him to discover that the Indian war-party of
twenty-seven consisted of six elk, who had been gazing curiously at our
caravan as it passed by, and were now scampering off at full speed. This
was our first alarm, and its excitement broke agreeably on the monotony of
the day. At our noon halt, the men were exercised at a target; and in the
evening we pitched our tents at a Pawnee encampment of last July. They had
apparently killed buffalo here, as many bones were lying about, and the
frames where the hides had been stretched were yet standing. The road of
the day had kept the valley, which is sometimes rich and well timbered,
though the country generally is sandy. Mingled with the usual plants, a
thistle (_carduus leucographus_) had for the last day or two made its
appearance; and along the river bottom, _tradescantia_ (virginica)
and milk plant (_asclepias syriaca_) [Footnote: This plant is very
odoriferous, and in Canada charms the traveler, especially when passing
through woods in the evening. The French there eat the tender shoots in
the spring, as we do asparagus. The natives make a sugar of the flowers,
gathering them in the morning when they are covered with dew, and collect
the cotton from their pods to fill their beds. On account of the silkiness
of this cotton, Parkinson calls the plant Virginian silk.--_Loudon's
Encyclopaedia of Plants_.

The Sioux Indians of the Upper Platte eat the young pods of this plant,
boiling them with the meat of the buffalo.] in considerable quantities.

Our march to-day had been twenty-one miles, and the astronomical
observations gave us a chronometric longitude of 98 deg. 22' 12", and latitude
40 deg. 26' 50". We were moving forward at seven in the morning, and in about
five miles reached a fork of the Blue, where the road leaves that river,
and crosses over to the Platte. No water was to be found on the dividing
ridge, and the casks were filled, and the animals here allowed a short
repose. The road led across a high and level prairie ridge, where were but
few plants, and those principally thistle, (_carduus leucographus_,)
and a kind of dwarf artemisia. Antelope were seen frequently during the
morning, which was very stormy. Squalls of rain, with thunder and
lightning, were around us in every direction; and while we were enveloped
in one of them, a flash, which seemed to scorch our eyes as it passed,
struck in the prairie within a few hundred feet, sending up a column of
dust.

Crossing on the way several Pawnee roads to the Arkansas, we reached, in
about twenty-one miles from our halt on the Blue, what is called the coast
of the Nebraska, or Platte river. This had seemed in the distance a range
of high and broken hills; but on a nearer approach was found to be
elevations of forty to sixty feet into which the wind had worked the sand.
They were covered with the usual fine grasses of the country, and bordered
the eastern side of the ridge on a breadth of about two miles. Change of
soil and country appeared here to have produced some change in the
vegetation. _Cacti_ were numerous, and all the plants of the region
appeared to flourish among the warm hills. Among them the _amorpha_,
in full bloom, was remarkable for its large and luxuriant purple clusters.
From the foot of the coast, a distance of two miles across the level
bottom brought us to our encampment on the shore of the river, about
twenty miles below the head of Grand Island, which lay extended before us,
covered with dense and heavy woods. From the mouth of the Kansas,
according to our reckoning, we had traveled three hundred and twenty-eight
miles; and the geological formation of the country we had passed over
consisted of lime and sand stone, covered by the same erratic deposits of
sand and gravel which forms the surface rock of the prairies between the
Missouri and Mississippi rivers. Except in some occasional limestone
boulders, I had met with no fossils. The elevation of the Platte valley
above the sea is here about two thousand feet. The astronomical
observations of the night placed us in longitude 98 deg. 45' 49", latitude 40 deg.
41' 06".

27th.--The animals were somewhat fatigued by their march of yesterday,
and, after a short journey of eighteen miles along the river bottom, I
encamped near the head of Grand Island, in longitude, by observation, 99 deg.
05' 24", latitude 40 deg. 39' 32". The soil was here light but rich, though in
some places rather sandy; and, with the exception of scattered fringe
along the bank, the timber, consisting principally of poplar, (_populus
moniliefera_,) elm, and hackberry, (_celtis crassifolia_,) is
confined almost entirely to the islands.

28th.--We halted to noon at an open reach of the river, which occupies
rather more than a fourth of the valley, here only about four miles broad.
The camp had been disposed with the usual precaution, the horses grazing
at a little distance, attended by the guard, and we were all sitting
quietly at our dinner on the grass, when suddenly we heard the startling
cry, "Du monde!" In an instant, every man's weapon was in his hand, the
horses were driven in, hobbled and picketed, and horsemen were galloping
at full speed in the direction of the newcomers, screaming and yelling
with the wildest excitement. "Get ready, my lads!" said the leader of the
approaching party to his men, when our wild looking horsemen were
discovered bearing down upon them--"nous allons attraper des coups de
baguette." They proved to be a small party of fourteen, under the charge
of a man named John Lee, and, with their baggage and provisions strapped
to their backs, were making their way on foot to the frontier. A brief
account of their fortunes will give some idea of navigation in the
Nebraska. Sixty days since, they had left the mouth of Laramie's fork,
some three hundred miles above, in barges laden with the furs of the
American Fur Company. They started with the annual flood, and, drawing but
nine inches water, hoped to make a speedy and prosperous voyage to St.
Louis; but, after a lapse of forty days, found themselves only one hundred
and thirty miles from their point of departure. They came down rapidly as
far as Scott's bluffs, where their difficulties began. Sometimes they came
upon places where the water was spread over a great extent, and here they
toiled from morning until night, endeavoring to drag their boat through
the sands, making only two or three miles in as many days. Sometimes they
would enter an arm of the river, where there appeared a fine channel, and,
after descending prosperously for eight or ten miles, would come suddenly
upon dry sands, and be compelled to return, dragging their boat for days
against the rapid current; and at others, they came upon places where the
water lay in holes, and, getting out to float off their boat, would fall
into water up to their necks, and the next moment tumble over against a
sandbar. Discouraged at length, and finding the Platte growing every day
more shallow, they discharged the principal part of their cargoes one
hundred and thirty miles below Fort Laramie, which they secured as well as
possible, and, leaving a few men to guard them, attempted to continue
their voyage, laden with some light furs and their personal baggage. After
fifteen or twenty days more struggling in the sands, during which they
made but one hundred and forty miles, they sunk their barges, made a
_cache_ of their remaining furs and property in trees on the bank,
and, packing on his back what each man could carry, had commenced, the day
before we encountered them, their journey on foot to St. Louis. We laughed
then at their forlorn and vagabond appearance, and, in our turn, a month
or two afterwards, furnished the same occasion for merriment to others.
Even their stock of tobacco, that _sine qua non_ of a voyageur,
without which the night fire is gloomy, was entirely exhausted. However,
we shortened their homeward journey by a small supply from our own
provision. They gave us the welcome intelligence that the buffalo were
abundant some two days' march in advance, and made us a present of some
choice pieces, which were a very acceptable change from our salt pork. In
the interchange of news, and the renewal of old acquaintanceships, we
found wherewithal to fill a busy hour; then we mounted our horses and they
shouldered their packs, and we shook hands and parted. Among them, I had
found an old companion on the northern prairie, a hardened and hardly
served veteran of the mountains, who had been as much hacked and scarred
as an old moustache of Napoleon's "old guard."  He flourished in the
sobriquet of La Tulipe, and his real name I never knew. Finding that he
was going to the States only because his company was bound in that
direction, and that he was rather more willing to return with me, I took
him again into my service. We traveled this day but seventeen miles.

At our evening camp, about sunset, three figures were discovered
approaching, which our glasses made out to be Indians. They proved to be
Cheyennes--two men, and a boy of thirteen. About a month since, they had
left their people on the south fork of the river, some three hundred miles
to the westward, and a party of only four in number had been to the Pawnee
villages on a horse-stealing excursion, from which they were returning
unsuccessful. They were miserably mounted on wild horses from the Arkansas
plains, and had no other weapons than bows and long spears; and had they
been discovered by the Pawnees, could not, by any possibility, have
escaped. They were mortified by their ill-success, and said the Pawnees
were cowards, who shut up their horses in their lodges at night. I invited
them to supper with me, and Randolph and the young Cheyenne, who had been
eyeing each other suspiciously and curiously, soon became intimate
friends. After supper we sat down on the grass, and I placed a sheet of
paper between us, on which they traced, rudely, but with a certain degree
of relative truth, the water-courses of the country which lay between us
and their villages, and of which I desired to have some information. Their
companions, they told us, had taken a nearer route over the hills; but
they had mounted one of the summits to spy out the country, whence they
had caught a glimpse of our party, and, confident of good treatment at the
hands of the whites, hastened to join company. Latitude of the camp 40 deg.
39' 51".

We made the next morning sixteen miles. I remarked that the ground was
covered in many places with an efflorescence of salt, and the plants were
not numerous. In the bottoms were frequently seen tradescantia, and on the
dry lenches were carduus, cactus, and amorpha. A high wind during the
morning had increased to a violent gale from the northwest, which made our
afternoon ride cold and unpleasant. We had the welcome sight of two
buffaloes on one of the large islands, and encamped at a clump of timber
about seven miles from our noon halt, after a day's march of twenty-two
miles.

The air was keen the next morning at sunrise, the thermometer standing at
44 deg., and it was sufficiently cold to make overcoats very comfortable. A
few miles brought us into the midst of the buffalo, swarming in immense
numbers over the plains, where they had left scarcely a blade of grass
standing. Mr. Preuss, who was sketching at a little distance in the rear,
had at first noted them as large groves of timber. In the sight of such a
mass of life, the traveler feels a strange emotion of grandeur. We had
heard from a distance a dull and confused murmuring, and, when we came in
view of their dark masses, there was not one among us who did not feel his
heart beat quicker. It was the early part of the day, when the herds are
feeding; and everywhere they were in motion. Here and there a huge old
bull was rolling in the grass, and clouds of dust rose in the air from
various parts of the bands, each the scene of some obstinate fight.
Indians and buffalo make the poetry and life of the prairie, and our camp
was full of their exhilaration. In place of the quiet monotony of the
march, relieved only by the cracking of the whip, and an "avance donc!
enfant de garce!" shouts and songs resounded from every part of the line,
and our evening camp was always the commencement of a feast, which
terminated only with our departure on the following morning. At any time
of the night might be seen pieces of the most delicate and choicest meat,
roasting _en appolas_, on sticks around the fire, and the guard were
never without company. With pleasant weather and no enemy to fear, an
abundance of the most excellent meat, and no scarcity of bread or tobacco,
they were enjoying the oasis of a voyageur's life. Three cows were killed
to-day. Kit Carson had shot one, and was continuing the chase in the midst
of another herd, when his horse fell headlong, but sprang up and joined
the flying band. Though considerably hurt, he had the good fortune to
break no bones; and Maxwell, who was mounted on a fleet hunter, captured
the runaway after a hard chase. He was on the point of shooting him, to
avoid the loss of his bridle, (a handsomely mounted Spanish one,) when he
found that his horse was able to come up with him. Animals are frequently
lost in this way; and it is necessary to keep close watch over them, in
the vicinity of the buffalo, in the midst of which they scour off to the
plains, and are rarely retaken. One of our mules took a sudden freak into
his head, and joined a neighboring band to-day. As we were not in a
condition to lose horses, I sent several men in pursuit, and remained in
camp, in the hope of recovering him; but lost the afternoon to no purpose,
as we did not see him again. Astronomical observations placed us in
longitude 100 deg. 05' 47", latitude 40 deg. 49' 55"



JULY.


1st.--Along our road to-day the prairie bottom was more elevated and dry,
and the river hills which border the right side of the river higher, and
more broken and picturesque in the outline. The country, too, was better
timbered. As we were riding quietly along the bank, a grand herd of
buffalo, some seven or eight hundred in number, came crowding up from the
river, where they had been to drink, and commenced crossing the plain
slowly, eating as they went. The wind was favorable; the coolness of the
morning invited to exercise; the ground was apparently good, and the
distance across the prairie (two or three miles) gave us a fine
opportunity to charge them before they could get among the river hills. It
was too fine a prospect for a chase to be lost; and, halting for a few
moments, the hunters were brought up and saddled, and Kit Carson, Maxwell,
and I, started together. They were now somewhat less than half a mile
distant, and we rode easily along until within about three hundred yards,
when a sudden agitation, a wavering in the band, and a galloping to and
fro of some which were scattered along the skirts, gave us the intimation
that we were discovered. We started together at a hand gallop, riding
steadily abreast of each other; and here the interest of the chase became
so engrossingly intense, that we were sensible to nothing else. We were
now closing upon them rapidly, and the front of the mass was already in
rapid motion for the hills, and in a few seconds the movement had
communicated itself to the whole herd.

A crowd of bulls, as usual, brought up the rear, and every now and then
some of them faced about, and then dashed on after the band a short
distance, and turned and looked again, as if more than half inclined to
fight. In a few moments, however, during which we had been quickening our
pace, the rout was universal, and we were going over the ground like a
hurricane. When at about thirty yards, we gave the usual shout, (the
hunter's _pas de charge_,) and broke into the herd. We entered on the
side, the mass giving way in every direction in their heedless course.
Many of the bulls, less active and fleet than the cows, paying no
attention to the ground, and occupied solely with the hunter, were
precipitated to the earth with great force, rolling over and over with the
violence of the shock, and hardly distinguishable in the dust. We
separated on entering, each singling out his game.

My horse was a trained hunter, famous in the West under the name of
Proveau; and, with his eyes flashing and the foam flying from his mouth,
sprang on after the cow like a tiger. In a few moments he brought me
alongside of her, and rising in the stirrups, I fired at the distance of a
yard, the ball entering at the termination of the long hair, and passing
near the heart. She fell headlong at the report of the gun; and, checking
my horse, I looked around for my companions. At a little distance, Kit was
on the ground, engaged in tying his horse to the horns of a cow he was
preparing to cut up. Among the scattered bands, at some distance below, I
caught a glimpse of Maxwell; and while I was looking, a light wreath of
smoke curled away from his gun, from which I was too far to hear the
report. Nearer, and between me and the hills, towards which they were
directing their course, was the body of the herd; and, giving my horse the
rein, we dashed after them. A thick cloud of dust hung upon their rear,
which filled my mouth and eyes, and nearly smothered me. In the midst of
this I could see nothing, and the buffalo were not distinguishable until
within thirty feet. They crowded together more densely still as I came
upon them, and rushed along in such a compact body, that I could not
obtain an entrance--the horse almost leaping upon them. In a few moments
the mass divided to the right and left, the horns clattering with a noise
heard above every thing else, and my horse darted into the opening. Five
or six bulls charged on us as we dashed along the line, but were left far
behind; and, singling out a cow, I gave her my fire, but struck too high.
She gave a tremendous leap, and scoured on swifter than before. I reined
up my horse, and the band swept on like a torrent, and left the place
quiet and clear. Our chase had led us into dangerous ground. A prairie-dog
village, so thickly settled that there were three or four holes in every
twenty yards square, occupied the whole bottom for nearly two miles in
length. Looking around, I saw only one of the hunters, nearly out of
sight, and the long, dark line of our caravan crawling along, three or
four miles distant. After a march of twenty-four miles, we encamped at
nightfall, one mile and a half above the lower end of Brady's Island. The
breadth of this arm of the river was eight hundred and eighty yards, and
the water nowhere two feet in depth. The island bears the name of a man
killed on this spot some years ago. His party had encamped here, three in
company, and one of the number went off to hunt, leaving Brady and his
companion together. These two had frequently quarreled, and on the
hunter's return he found Brady dead, and was told that he had shot himself
accidentally. He was buried here on the bank; but, as usual, the wolves
tore him out, and some human bones that were lying on the ground we
supposed were his. Troops of wolves that were hanging on the skirts of the
buffalo, kept up an uninterrupted howling during the night, venturing
almost into camp. In the morning, they were sitting at a short distance,
barking, and impatiently waiting our departure, to fall upon the bones.

2d.--The morning was cool and smoky. Our road led closer to the hills,
which here increased in elevation, presenting an outline of conical peaks
three hundred to five hundred feet high. Some timber, apparently pine,
grows in the ravines, and streaks of clay or sand whiten their slopes. We
crossed, during the morning, a number of hollows, timbered principally
with box, elder, (_acer negundo_,) poplar, and elm. Brady's Island is
well wooded, and all the river along which our road led to-day, may, in
general, be called tolerably well timbered. We passed near the encampment
of the Oregon emigrants, where they appeared to have reposed several days.
A variety of household articles were scattered about, and they had
probably disburdened themselves here of many things not absolutely
necessary. I had left the usual road before the mid-day halt, and in the
afternoon, having sent several men in advance to reconnoitre, marched
directly for the mouth of the South fork. On our arrival, the horsemen
were sent in and scattered about the river to search for the best fording-
places, and the carts followed immediately. The stream is here divided by
an island into two channels. The southern is four hundred and fifty feet
wide, having eighteen or twenty inches water in the deepest places. With
the exception of a few dry bars, the bed of the river is generally
quicksands, in which the carts began to sink rapidly so soon as the mules
halted, so that it was necessary to keep them constantly in motion.

The northern channel, two thousand two hundred and fifty feet wide, was
somewhat deeper, having frequently three feet water in the numerous small
channels, with a bed of coarse gravel. The whole breadth of the Nebraska,
immediately below the junction, is five thousand three hundred and fifty
feet. All our equipage had reached the left bank safely at six o'clock,
having to-day made twenty miles. We encamped at the point of land
immediately at the junction of the North and South forks. Between the
streams is a low rich prairie extending from their confluence eighteen
miles westwardly to the bordering hills, where it is five and a half miles
wide. It is covered with a luxuriant growth of grass, and along the banks
is a slight and scattered fringe of cottonwood and willow. In the buffalo-
trails and wallows, I remarked saline efflorescences, to which a rapid
evaporation in the great heat of the sun probably contributes, as the soil
is entirely unprotected by timber. In the vicinity of these places there
was a bluish grass, which the cattle refuse to eat, called by the
voyageurs "herbe salee," (salt grass.) The latitude of the junction is 41 deg.
04' 47", and longitude, by chronometer and lunar distances, 100 deg. 49' 43".
The elevation above the sea is about two thousand seven hundred feet. The
hunters came in with a fat cow; and, as we had labored hard, we enjoyed
well a supper of roasted ribs and boudins, the chef d'oeuvre of a prairie
cook. Mosquitoes thronged about us this evening; but, by ten o'clock, when
the thermometer had fallen to 47 deg., they had all disappeared.

3d.--As this was to be a point in our homeward journey, I made a cache (a
term used in all this country for what is hidden in the ground) of a
barrel of pork. It was impossible to conceal such a proceeding from the
sharp eyes of our Cheyenne companions, and I therefore told them to go and
see what it was they were burying. They would otherwise have not failed to
return and destroy our cache in expectation of some rich booty; but pork
they dislike and never eat. We left our camp at nine, continuing up the
South fork, the prairie-bottom affording us a fair road; but in the long
grass we roused myriads of mosquitoes and flies, from which our horses
suffered severely. The day was smoky, with a pleasant breeze from the
south, and the plains on the opposite side were covered with buffalo.
Having traveled twenty-five miles, we encamped at six in the evening; and
the men were sent across the river for wood, as there is none here on the
left bank. Our fires were partially made of the _bois de vache_, the
dry excrement of the buffalo, which, like that of the camel in the Arabian
deserts, furnishes to the traveler a very good substitute for wood,
burning like turf. Wolves in great numbers surrounded us during the night,
crossing and recrossing from the opposite herds to our camp, and howling
and trotting about in the river until morning.

4th.--The morning was very smoky, the sun shining dimly and red, as in
thick fog. The camp was roused by a salute at daybreak, and from our
scanty store a portion of what our Indian friends called the "red fire-
water" served out to the men. While we were at breakfast, a buffalo-calf
broke through the camp, followed by a couple of wolves. In its fright, it
had probably mistaken us for a band of buffalo. The wolves were obliged to
make a circuit round the camp, so that the calf got a little the start,
and strained every nerve to reach a large herd at the foot of the hills,
about two miles distant; but first one and then another, and another wolf
joined in the chase, until his pursuers amounted to twenty or thirty, and
they ran him down before he could reach his friends. There were a few
bulls near the place, and one of them attacked the wolves and tried to
rescue him; but was driven off immediately, and the little animal fell an
easy prey, half devoured before he was dead. We watched the chase with the
interest always felt for the weak; and had there been a saddled horse at
hand, he would have fared better. Leaving camp, our road soon approached
the hills, in which strata of a marl like that of the Chimney rock,
hereafter described, made their appearance. It is probably of this rock
that the hills on the right bank of the Platte, a little below the
junction, are composed, and which are worked by the winds and rains into
sharp peaks and cones, giving them, in contrast to the surrounding level
region, something of a picturesque appearance. We crossed, this morning,
numerous beds of the small creeks which, in the time of rains and melting
snow, pour down from the ridge, bringing down with them, always, great
quantities of sand and gravel, which have gradually raised their beds four
to ten feet above the level of the prairie, which they cross, making each
one of them a miniature Po. Raised in this way above the surrounding
prairie, without any bank, the long yellow and winding line of their beds
resembles a causeway from the hills to the river. Many spots on the
prairie are yellow with sunflower, (_helianthus_.)

As we were riding slowly along this afternoon, clouds of dust in the
ravines, among the hills to the right, suddenly attracted our attention,
and in a few minutes column after column of buffalo came galloping down,
making directly to the river. By the time the leading herds had reached
the water, the prairie was darkened with the dense masses. Immediately
before us, when the bands first came down into the valley, stretched an
unbroken line, the head of which was lost among the river hills on the
opposite side; and still they poured down from the ridge on our right.
From hill to hill, the prairie bottom was certainly not less than two
miles wide; and, allowing the animals to be ten feet apart, and only ten
in a line, there were already eleven thousand in view. Some idea may thus
be formed of their number when they had occupied the whole plain. In a
short time they surrounded us on every side, extending for several miles
in the rear, and forward as far as the eye could reach; leaving around us,
as we advanced, an open space of only two or three hundred yards. This
movement of the buffalo indicated to us the presence of Indians on the
North fork.

I halted earlier than usual, about forty miles from the junction, and all
hands were soon busily engaged in preparing a feast to celebrate the day.
The kindness of our friends at St. Louis had provided us with a large
supply of excellent preserves and rich fruit-cake; and when these were
added to a macaroni soup, and variously prepared dishes of the choicest
buffalo-meat, crowned with a cup of coffee, and enjoyed with prairie
appetite, we felt, as we sat in barbaric luxury around our smoking supper
on the grass, a greater sensation of enjoyment than the Roman epicure at
his perfumed feast. But most of all it seemed to please our Indian
friends, who, in the unrestrained enjoyment of the moment, demanded to
know if our "medicine-days came often." No restraint was exercised at the
hospitable board, and, to the great delight of his elders, our young
Indian lad made himself extremely drunk.

Our encampment was within a few miles of the place where the road crosses
to the North fork, and various reasons led me to divide my party at this
point. The North fork was the principal object of my survey; but I was
desirous to ascend the South branch, with a view of obtaining some
astronomical positions, and determining the mouths of its tributaries as
far as St. Vrain's fort, estimated to be some two hundred miles farther up
the river, and near to Long's Peak. There I hoped to obtain some mules,
which I found would be necessary to relieve my horses. In a military point
of view, I was desirous to form some opinion of the country relative to
the establishment of posts on a line connecting the settlements with the
south pass of the Rocky Mountains, by way of the Arkansas and the South
and Laramie forks of the Platte. Crossing the country northwestwardly from
St. Vrain's fort, to the American Company's fort at the mouth of the
Laramie, would give me some acquaintance with the affluents which head-in
the mountain between the two; I therefore determined to set out the next
morning, accompanied by four men--Maxwell, Bernier, Ayot, and Basil
Lajeunesse. Our Cheyennes, whose village lay up this river, also decided
to accompany us. The party I left in charge of Clement Lambert, with
orders to cross to the North fork; and at some convenient place, near to
the _Coulee des Frenes_, make a cache of every thing not absolutely
necessary to the further progress of our expedition. From this point,
using the most guarded precaution in his march through the country, he was
to proceed to the American Company's fort at the mouth of the Laramie's
fork, and await my arrival, which would be prior to the 16th, as on that
and the following night would occur some occultations which I was desirous
to obtain at that place.

5th.--Before breakfast all was ready. We had one led horse in addition to
those we rode, and a pack-mule, destined to carry our instruments,
provisions, and baggage; the last two articles not being of great weight.
The instruments consisted of a sextant, artificial horizon, &c., a
barometer, spy-glass, and compass. The chronometer I of course kept on my
person. I had ordered the cook to put up for us some flour, coffee, and
sugar, and our rifles were to furnish the rest. One blanket, in addition
to his saddle and saddle blanket, furnished the materials for each man's
bed, and every one was provided with a change of linen. All were armed
with rifles or double-barrelled guns; and, in addition to these, Maxwell
and myself were furnished with excellent pistols. Thus accoutred, we took
a parting breakfast with our friends; and set forth.

Our journey the first day afforded nothing of any interest. We shot a
buffalo towards sunset, and having obtained some meat for our evening
meal, encamped where a little timber afforded us the means of making a
fire. Having disposed our meat on roasting-sticks, we proceeded to unpack
our bales in search of coffee and sugar, and flour for bread. With the
exception of a little parched coffee, unground, we found nothing. Our cook
had neglected to put it up, or it had been somehow forgotten. Tired and
hungry, with tough bull-meat without salt, (for we had not been able to
kill a cow,) and a little bitter coffee, we sat down in silence to our
miserable fare, a very disconsolate party; for yesterday's feast was yet
fresh in our memories, and this was our first brush with misfortune. Each
man took his blanket, and laid himself down silently; for the worst part
of these mishaps is, that they make people ill-humored. To-day we had
traveled about thirty-six miles.

6th.--Finding that our present excursion would be attended with
considerable hardship, and unwilling to expose more persons than
necessary, I determined to send Mr. Preuss back to the party. His horse,
too, appeared in no condition to support the journey; and accordingly,
after breakfast, he took the road across the hills, attended by one of my
most trusty men, Bernier. The ridge between the rivers is here about
fifteen miles broad, and I expected he would probably strike the fork near
their evening camp. At all events he would not fail to find their trail,
and rejoin them the next day.

We continued our journey, seven in number, including the three Cheyennes.
Our general course was southwest, up the valley of the river, which was
sandy, bordered on the northern side of the valley by a low ridge; and on
the south, after seven or eight miles, the river hills became higher. Six
miles from our resting-place we crossed the bed of a considerable stream,
now entirely dry--a bed of sand. In a grove of willows, near the mouth,
were the remains of a considerable fort, constructed of trunks of large
trees. It was apparently very old, and had probably been the scene of some
hostile encounter among the roving tribes. Its solitude formed an
impressive contrast to the picture which our imaginations involuntarily
drew of the busy scene which had been enacted here. The timber appeared to
have been much more extensive formerly than now. There were but few trees,
a kind of long-leaved willow, standing; and numerous trunks of large trees
were scattered about on the ground. In many similar places I had occasion
to remark an apparent progressive decay in the timber. Ten miles farther
we reached the mouth of Lodge Pole creek, a clear and handsome stream,
running through a broad valley. In its course through the bottom it has a
uniform breadth of twenty-two feet and six inches in depth. A few willows
on the banks strike pleasantly on the eye, by their greenness, in the
midst of hot and barren sands.

The _amorpha_ was frequent among the ravines, but the sunflower
(_helianthus_) was the characteristic; and flowers of deep warm
colors seem most to love the sandy soil. The impression of the country
traveled over to-day was one of dry and barren sands. We turned in towards
the river at noon, and gave our horses two hours for food and rest. I had
no other thermometer than the one attached to the barometer, which stood
at 89 deg., the height of the column in the barometer being 26.235 at
meridian. The sky was clear, with a high wind from the south. At 2 we
continued our journey; the wind had moderated, and it became almost
unendurably hot, and our animals suffered severely. In the course of the
afternoon, the wind rose suddenly, and blew hard from the southwest, with
thunder and lightning, and squalls of rain; these were blown against us
with violence by the wind; and, halting, we turned our backs to the storm
until it blew over. Antelope were tolerably frequent, with a large gray
hare; but the former were shy, and the latter hardly worth the delay of
stopping to shoot them; so, as the evening drew near, we again had
recourse to an old bull, and encamped at sunset on an island in the
Platte.

We ate our meat with a good relish this evening, for we were all in fine
health, and had ridden nearly all of a long summer's day, with a burning
sun reflected from the sands. My companions slept rolled up in their
blankets, and the Indians lay in the grass near the fire; but my sleeping-
place generally had an air of more pretension. Our rifles were tied
together near the muzzle, the butts resting on the ground, and a knife
laid on the rope, to cut away in case of an alarm. Over this, which made a
kind of frame, was thrown a large India-rubber cloth, which we used to
cover our packs. This made a tent sufficiently large to receive about half
of my bed, and was a place of shelter for my instruments; and as I was
careful always to put this part against the wind, I could lie here with a
sensation of satisfied enjoyment, and hear the wind blow, and the rain
patter close to my head, and know that I should be at least half dry.
Certainly I never slept more soundly. The barometer at sunset was 26.010,
thermometer at 81 deg., and cloudy; but a gale from the west sprang up with
the setting sun, and in a few minutes swept away every cloud from the sky.
The evening was very fine, and I remained up to take astronomical
observations, which made our position in latitude 40 deg. 51' 17", and
longitude 103 deg. 07' 00".

7th.--At our camp this morning, at six o'clock, the barometer was at
26.183, thermometer 69 deg., and clear, with a light wind from the southwest.
The past night had been squally, with high winds, and occasionally a few
drops of rain. Our cooking did not occupy much time, and we left camp
early. Nothing of interest occurred during the morning. The same dreary
barrenness, except that a hard marly clay had replaced the sandy soil.
Buffalo absolutely covered the plain, on both sides of the river, and
whenever we ascended the hills, scattered herds gave life to the view in
every direction. A small drove of wild horses made their appearance on the
low river bottoms, a mile or two to the left, and I sent off one of the
Indians (who seemed very eager to catch one) on my led horse, a spirited
and fleet animal. The savage manoeuvred a little to get the wind of the
horses, in which he succeeded--approaching within a hundred yards without
being discovered. The chase for a few minutes was interesting. My hunter
easily overtook and passed the hindmost of the wild drove, which the did
not attempt to _lasso_; all his efforts being directed to capture the
leader. But the strength of the horse, weakened by insufficient
nourishment of grass, failed in a race, and all the drove escaped. We
halted at noon on the bank of the river, the barometer at that time being
26.192, and thermometer 103 deg., with a light air from the south and clear
weather.

In the course of the afternoon, dust rising among the hills, at a
particular place, attracted our attention; and, riding up, we found a band
of eighteen or twenty buffalo bulls engaged in a desperate fight. Though
butting and goring were bestowed liberally, and without distinction, yet
their efforts were evidently directed against one--a huge, gaunt old bull,
very lean, while his adversaries were all fat and in good order. He
appeared very weak, and had already received some wounds; and, while we
were looking on, was several times knocked down and badly hurt, and a very
few moments would have put an end to him. Of course, we took the side of
the weaker party, and attacked the herd; but they were so blind with rage,
that they fought on, utterly regardless of our presence although on foot
and on horseback we were firing, in open view, within twenty yards of
them. But this did not last long. In a very few seconds, we created a
commotion among them. One or two, which were knocked over by the balls,
jumped up and ran off into the hills; and they began to retreat slowly
along a broad ravine to the river, fighting furiously as they went. By the
time they had reached the bottom, we had pretty well dispersed them, and
the old bull hobbled off to lie down somewhere. One of his enemies
remained on the ground where we had first fired upon them, and we stopped
there for a short time to cut from him some meat for our supper. We had
neglected to secure our horses, thinking it an unnecessary precaution in
their fatigued condition; but our mule took it into his head to start, and
away he went, followed at full speed by the pack-horse, with all the
baggage and instruments on his back. They were recovered and brought back,
after a chase of a mile. Fortunately, everything was well secured, so that
nothing, not even the barometer, was in the least injured.

The sun was getting low, and some narrow lines of timber, four or five
miles distant, promised us a pleasant camp, where, with plenty of wood for
fire, and comfortable shelter, and rich grass for our animals, we should
find clear cool springs, instead of the warm water of the Platte. On our
arrival, we found the bed of a stream fifty to one hundred feet wide, sunk
some thirty feet below the level of the prairie, with perpendicular banks,
bordered by a fringe of green cottonwood, but not a drop of water. There
were several small forks to the stream, all in the same condition. With
the exception of the Platte bottom, the country seemed to be of a clay
formation, dry, and perfectly devoid of any moisture, and baked hard by
the sun. Turning off towards the river, we reached the bank in about a
mile, and were delighted to find an old tree, with thick foliage and
spreading branches, where we encamped. At sunset, the barometer was at
25.950, thermometer 81 deg., with a strong wind from S. 20 deg. E., and the sky
partially covered with heavy masses of cloud, which settled a little
towards the horizon by ten o'clock, leaving it sufficiently clear for
astronomical observations, which placed us in latitude 40 deg. 33' 26", and
longitude 103 deg. 30' 37".

8th.--The morning was very pleasant. The breeze was fresh from S. 50 deg. E.,
with few clouds; the barometer at six o'clock standing at 25.970, and the
thermometer at 70 deg.. Since leaving the forks our route had passed over a
country alternately clay and sand, each presenting the same naked waste.
On leaving camp this morning, we struck again a sandy region, in which the
vegetation appeared somewhat more vigorous than that which we had observed
for the last few days; and on the opposite side of the river were some
tolerably large groves of timber.

Journeying along, we came suddenly upon a place where the ground was
covered with horses' tracks, which had been made since the rain, and
indicated the immediate presence of Indians in our neighborhood. The
buffalo, too, which the day before had been so numerous were nowhere in
sight--another sure indication that there were people near. Riding on, we
discovered the carcass of a buffalo recently killed--perhaps the day
before. We scanned the horizon carefully with the glass, but no living
object was to be seen. For the next mile or two, the ground was dotted
with buffalo carcasses, which showed that the Indians had made a surround
here, and were in considerable force. We went on quickly and cautiously,
keeping the river bottom, and carefully avoiding the hills; but we met
with no interruption, and began to grow careless again. We had already
lost one of our horses, and here Basil's mule showed symptoms of giving
out, and finally refused to advance, being what the Canadians call
_reste_. He therefore dismounted, and drove her along before him; but
this was a very slow way of traveling. We had inadvertently got about half
a mile in advance, but our Cheyennes, who were generally a mile or two in
the rear, remained with him. There were some dark-looking objects among
the hills, about two miles to the left, here low and undulating, which we
had seen for a little time, and supposed to be buffalo coming in to water;
but, happening to look behind, Maxwell saw the Cheyennes whipping up
furiously, and another glance at the dark objects showed them at once to
be Indians coming up at speed.

Had we been well mounted and disencumbered of instruments, we might have
set them at defiance; but as it was, we were fairly caught. It was too
late to rejoin our friends, and we endeavored to gain a clump of timber
about half a mile ahead; but the instruments and tired state of our horses
did not allow us to go faster than a steady canter, and they were gaining
on us fast. At first, they did not appear to be more than fifteen or
twenty in number, but group after group darted into view at the top of the
hills, until all the little eminences seemed in motion; and, in a few
minutes from the time they were first discovered, two or three hundred,
naked to the breechcloth, were sweeping across the prairie. In a few
hundred yards we discovered that the timber we were endeavoring to make
was on the opposite side of the river; and before we reach the bank, down
came the Indians upon us.

I am inclined to think that in a few seconds more the leading man, and
perhaps some of his companions, would have rolled in the dust; for we had
jerked the covers from our guns, and our fingers were on the triggers. Men
in such cases generally act from instinct, and a charge from three hundred
naked savages is a circumstance not well calculated to promote a cool
exercise of judgment. Just as he was about to fire, Maxwell recognised the
leading Indian, and shouted to him in the Indian language, "You're a fool,
G---- damn you--don't you know me?" The sound of his own language seemed
to shock the savage; and, swerving his horse a little, he passed us like
an arrow. He wheeled, as I rode out towards him, and gave me his hand,
striking his breast and exclaiming "Arapaho!" They proved to be a village
of that nation, among whom Maxwell had resided as a trader a year or two
previously, and recognised him accordingly. We were soon in the midst of
the band, answering as well as we could a multitude of questions; of which
the very first was, of what tribe were our Indian companions who were
coming in the rear? They seemed disappointed to know that they were
Cheyennes, for they had fully anticipated a grand dance around a Pawnee
scalp that night.

The chief showed us his village at a grove on the river six miles ahead,
and pointed out a band of buffalo on the other side of the Platte,
immediately opposite us, which he said they were going to surround. They
had seen the band early in the morning from their village, and had been
making a large circuit, to avoid giving them the wind, when they
discovered us. In a few minutes the women came galloping up, astride on
their horses, and naked from their knees down and the hips up. They
followed the men, to assist in cutting up and carrying off the meat.

The wind was blowing directly across the river, and the chief requested us
to halt where we were for awhile, in order to avoid raising the herd. We
therefore unsaddled our horses, and sat down on the bank to view the
scene; and our new acquaintances rode a few hundred yards lower down, and
began crossing the river. Scores of wild-looking dogs followed, looking
like troops of wolves, and having, in fact, but very little of the dog in
their composition. Some of them remained with us, and I checked one of the
men, whom I found aiming at one, which he was about to kill for a wolf.
The day had become very hot. The air was clear, with a very slight breeze;
and now, at 12 o'clock, while the barometer stood at 25.920, the attached
thermometer was at 108 deg.. Our Cheyennes had learned that with the Arapaho
village were about twenty lodges of their own, including their own
families; they therefore immediately commenced making their toilette.
After bathing in the river, they invested themselves in some handsome
calico shirts, which I afterwards learned they had stolen from my own men,
and spent some time in arranging their hair and painting themselves with
some vermilion I had given them. While they were engaged in this
satisfactory manner, one of their half-wild horses, to which the crowd of
prancing animals which had just passed had recalled the freedom of her
existence among the wild droves on the prairie, suddenly dashed into the
hills at the top of her speed. She was their pack-horse, and had on her
back all the worldly wealth of our poor Cheyennes, all their
accoutrements, and all the little articles which they had picked up among
us, with some few presents I had given them. The loss which they seemed to
regret most were their spears and shields, and some tobacco which they had
received from me. However, they bore it all with the philosophy of an
Indian, and laughingly continued their toilette. They appeared, however,
to be a little mortified at the thought of returning to the village in
such a sorry plight. "Our people will laugh at us," said one of them,
"returning to the village on foot, instead of driving back a drove of
Pawnee horses." He demanded to know if I loved my sorrel hunter very much;
to which I replied, he was the object of my most intense affection. Far
from being able to give, I was myself in want of horses; and any
suggestion of parting with the few I had valuable, was met with a
peremptory refusal. In the mean time, the slaughter was about to commence
on the other side. So soon as they reached it, Indians separated into two
bodies. One party proceeded across the prairie, towards the hills, in an
extended line, while the other went up the river; and instantly as they
had given the wind to the herd, the chase commenced. The buffalo started
for the hills, but were intercepted and driven back towards the river,
broken and running in every direction. The clouds of dust soon covered the
whole scene, preventing us from having any but an occasional view. It had
a very singular appearance to us at a distance, especially when looking
with the glass. We were too far to hear the report of the guns, or any
sound; and at every instant, through the clouds of dust, which the sun
made luminous, we could see for a moment two or three buffalo dashing
along, and close behind them an Indian with his long spear, or other
weapon, and instantly again they disappeared. The apparent silence, and
the dimly seen figures flitting by with such rapidity, gave it a kind of
dreamy effect, and seemed more like a picture than a scene of real life.
It had been a large herd when the _cerne_ commenced, probably three
or four hundred in number; but, though I watched them closely, I did not
see one emerge from the fatal cloud where the work of destruction was
going on. After remaining here about an hour, we resumed our journey in
the direction of the village.

Gradually, as we rode on, Indian after Indian came dropping along, laden
with meat; and by the time we had neared the lodges, the backward road was
covered with the returning horsemen. It was a pleasant contrast with the
desert road we had been traveling. Several had joined company with us, and
one of the chiefs invited us to his lodge. The village consisted of about
one hundred and twenty-five lodges, of which twenty were Cheyennes; the
latter pitched a little apart from the Arapahoes. They were disposed in a
scattering manner on both sides of a broad, irregular street, about one
hundred and fifty feet wide, and running along the river. As we rode
along, I remarked near some of the lodges a kind of tripod frame, formed
of three slender poles of birch, scraped very clean, to which were affixed
the shield and spear, with some other weapons of a chief. All were
scrupulously clean, the spear-head was burnished bright; and the shield
white and stainless. It reminded me of the days of feudal chivalry; and
when, as I rode by, I yielded to the passing impulse, and touched one of
the spotless shields with the muzzle of my gun, I almost expected a grim
warrior to start from the lodge and resent my challenge. The master of the
lodge spread out a robe for me to sit upon, and the squaws set before us a
large wooden dish of buffalo meat. He had lit his pipe in the mean while,
and when it had been passed around, we commenced our dinner while he
continued to smoke. Gradually, however, five or six other chiefs came in,
and took their seats in silence. When we had finished, our host asked a
number of questions relative to the object of our journey, of which I made
no concealment; telling him simply that I had made a visit to see the
country, preparatory to the establishment of military posts on the way to
the mountains. Although this was information of the highest interest to
them, and by no means calculated to please them, it excited no expression
of surprise, and in no way altered the grave courtesy of their demeanor.
The others listened and smoked. I remarked, that in taking the pipe for
the first time, each had turned the stem upward, with a rapid glance, as
in offering to the Great Spirit, before he put it in his mouth. A storm
had been gathering for the past hour, and some pattering drops in the
lodge warned us that we had some miles to our camp. An Indian had given
Maxwell a bundle of dried meat, which was very acceptable, as we had
nothing; and, springing upon our horses, we rode off at dusk in the face
of a cold shower and driving wind. We found our companions under some
densely foliaged old trees, about three miles up the river. Under one of
them lay the trunk of a large cottonwood, to leeward of which the men had
kindled a fire, and we sat here and roasted our meat in tolerable shelter.
Nearly opposite was the mouth of one of the most considerable affluents of
the South fork, _la Fourche aux Castors_, (Beaver fork,) heading off
in the ridge to the southeast.

9th.--This morning we caught the first faint glimpse of the Rocky
mountains, about sixty miles distant. Though a tolerably bright day, there
was a slight mist, and we were just able to discern the snowy summit of
"Long's peak," ("_les deux oreilles_" of the Canadians,)
showing like a cloud near the horizon. I found it easily distinguishable,
there being a perceptible difference in its appearance from the white
clouds that were floating about the sky. I was pleased to find that among
the traders the name of "Long's peak" had been adopted and become familiar
in the country. In the ravines near this place, a light brown sandstone
made its first appearance. About 8, we discerned several persons on
horseback a mile or two ahead, on the opposite side of the river. They
turned in towards the river, and we rode down to meet them. We found them
to be two white men, and a mulatto named Jim Beckwith, who had left St.
Louis when a boy, and gone to live with the Crow Indians. He had
distinguished himself among them by some acts of daring bravery, and had
risen to the rank of chief, but had now, for some years, left them. They
were in search of a band of horses that had gone off from a camp some
miles above, in charge of Mr. Chabonard. Two of them continued down the
river, in search of the horses, and the American turned back with us, and
we rode on towards the camp. About eight miles from our sleeping-place, we
reached Bijou's fork, an affluent of the right bank. Where we crossed it,
a short distance from the Platte, it has a sandy bed about four hundred
yards broad; the water in various small streams, a few inches deep. Seven
miles further brought us to the camp of some four or five whites, (New
Englanders, I believe,) who had accompanied Captain Wyeth to the Columbia
river, and were independent trappers. All had their squaws with them, and
I was really surprised at the number of little fat, buffalo-fed boys that
were tumbling about the camp, all apparently of the same age, about three
or four years old. They were encamped on a rich bottom, covered with a
profusion of rich grass, and had a large number of fine-looking horses and
mules. We rested with them a few minutes, and in about two miles arrived
at Chabonard's camp, on an island in the Platte. On the heights above, we
met the first Spaniard I had seen in the country. Mr. Chabonard was in the
service of Bent and St. Vrain's company, and had left their fort some
forty or fifty miles above, in the spring, with boats laden with the furs
of the last year's trade. He had met the same fortune as the voyageurs on
the North fork; and, finding it impossible to proceed, had taken up his
summer's residence on this island, which he had named St. Helena. The
river hills appeared to be composed entirely of sand, and the Platte had
lost the muddy character of its waters, and here was tolerably clear. From
the mouth of the South fork, I had found it occasionally broken up by
small islands; and at the time of our journey, which was at a season of
the year when the waters were at a favorable stage, it was not navigable
for any thing drawing six inches water. The current was very swift--the
bed of the stream a coarse gravel. From the place at which we had
encountered the Arapahoes, the Platte had been tolerably well fringed with
timber, and the island here had a fine grove of very large cottonwoods,
under whose broad shade the tents were pitched. There was a large drove of
horses in the opposite prairie bottom; smoke was rising from the scattered
fires, and the encampment had quite a patriarchal air. Mr. C. received us
hospitably. One of the people was sent to gather mint, with the aid of
which he concocted very good julep; and some boiled buffalo tongue, and
coffee with the luxury of sugar, were soon set before us. The people in
his employ were generally Spaniards, and among them I saw a young Spanish
woman from Taos, whom I found to be Beckwith's wife.

10th.--We parted with our hospitable host after breakfast the next
morning, and reached St. Vrain's fort, about forty-five miles from St.
Helena, late in the evening. This post is situated on the South fork of
the Platte, immediately under the mountains, about seventeen miles east of
Long's peak. It is on the right bank, on the verge of the upland prairie,
about forty feet above the river, of which the immediate valley is about
six hundred yards wide. The stream is divided into various branches by
small islands, among which it runs with a swift current. The bed of the
river is sand and gravel, the water very clear, and here may be called a
mountain-stream. This region appears to be entirely free from the
limestones and marls which give to the Lower Platte its yellow and dirty
color. The Black hills lie between the stream and the mountains, whose
snowy peaks glitter a few miles beyond. At the fort we found Mr. St.
Vrain, who received us with much kindness and hospitality. Maxwell had
spent the last two or three years between this post and the village of
Taos; and here he was at home, and among his friends. Spaniards frequently
came over in search of employment; and several came in shortly after our
arrival. They usually obtain about six dollars a month, generally paid to
them in goods. They are very useful in a camp, in taking care of horses
and mules; and I engaged one, who proved to be an active, laborious man,
and was of very considerable service to me. The elevation of the Platte
here is five thousand four hundred feet above the sea. The neighboring
mountains did not appear to enter far the region of perpetual snow, which
was generally confined to the northern side of the peaks. On the southern,
I remarked very little. Here it appeared, so far as I could judge in the
distance, to descend but a few hundred feet below the summits.

I regretted that time did not permit me to visit them; but the proper
object of my survey lay among the mountains farther north; and I looked
forward to an exploration of their snowy recesses with great pleasure. The
piney region of the mountains to the south was enveloped in smoke, and I
was informed had been on fire for several months. Pike's peak is said to
be visible from this place, about one hundred miles to the southward; but
the smoky state of the atmosphere prevented my seeing it. The weather
continued overcast during my stay here, so that I failed in determining
the latitude, but obtained good observations for the time on the mornings
of the 11th and 12th. An assumed latitude of 40 deg. 22' 30" from the evening
position of the 12th, enabled me to obtain for a tolerably correct
longitude, 105 deg. 12' 12".

12th.--The kindness of Mr. St. Vrain enabled me to obtain a couple of
horses and three good mules; and, with a further addition to our party of
the Spaniard whom I had hired, and two others, who were going to obtain
service at Laramie's fork, we resumed our journey at ten, on the morning
of the 12th. We had been able to procure nothing at the post in the way of
provision. An expected supply from Taos had not yet arrived, and a few
pounds of coffee was all that could be spared to us. In addition to this
we had dried meat enough for the first day; on the next, we expected to
find buffalo. From this post, according to the estimate of the country,
the fort at the mouth of Laramie's fork, which was our next point of
destination, was nearly due north, distant about one hundred and twenty-
five miles.

For a short distance our road lay down the valley of the Platte, which
resembled a garden in the splendor of fields of varied flowers, which
filled the air with fragrance. The only timber I noticed consisted of
poplar, birch, cottonwood, and willow. In something less than three miles
we crossed Thompson's creek, one of the affluents to the left bank of the
South fork--a fine stream about sixty-five feet wide, and three feet deep.
Journeying on, the low dark line of the Black hills lying between us and
the mountains to the left, in about ten miles from the fort, we reached
_Cache a la Poudre_, where we halted to noon. This is a very
beautiful mountain-stream, about one hundred feet wide, flowing with a
full swift current over a rocky bed. We halted under the shade of some
cottonwoods, with which the stream is wooded scatteringly. In the upper
part of its course, it runs amid the wildest mountain scenery, and,
breaking through the Black hills, falls into the Platte about ten miles
below this place. In the course of our late journey, I had managed to
become the possessor of a very untractable mule--a perfect vixen--and her
I had turned over to my Spaniard. It occupied us about half an hour to-day
to get saddle upon her; but, once on her back, Jose could not be
dismounted, realizing the accounts given of Mexican horses and
horsemanship; and we continued our route in the afternoon.

At evening, we encamped on Crow creek, having traveled about twenty-eight
miles. None of the party were well acquainted with the country, and I had
great difficulty in ascertaining what were the names of the streams we
crossed between the North and South forks of the Platte. This I supposed
to be Cow creek. It is what is called a salt stream, and the water stands
in pools, having no continuous course. A fine-grained sandstone made its
appearance in the banks. The observations of the night placed us in
latitude 40 deg. 42', longitude 104 deg. 57' 49". The barometer at sunset was
25.231; attached thermometer at 66 deg.. Sky clear, except in the east, with a
light wind from the north.

13th.--There being no wood here, we used last night the _bois de
vache_, which is very plentiful. At our camp this morning, the
barometer was at 25.235; the attached thermometer 60 deg.. A few clouds were
moving through a deep-blue sky, with a light wind from the west. After a
ride of twelve miles, in a northerly direction, over a plain covered with
innumerable quantities of _cacti_, we reached a small creek in which
there was water, and where several herds of buffalo were scattered about
among the ravines, which always afford good pasturage. We seem now to be
passing along the base of a plateau of the Black hills, in which the
formation consists of marls, some of them white and laminated; the country
to the left rising suddenly, and falling off gradually and uniformly to
the right. In five or six miles of a northeasterly course, we struck a
high ridge, broken into conical peaks, on whose summits large boulders
were gathered in heaps. The magnetic direction of the ridge is northwest
and southeast, the glittering white of its precipitous sides making it
visible for many miles to the south. It is composed of a soft earthy
limestone and marls, resembling that hereafter described in the
neighborhood of the Chimney rock, on the North fork of the Platte, easily
worked by the winds and rains, and sometimes moulded into very fantastic
shapes. At the foot of the northern slope was the bed of a creek, some
forty feet wide, coming, by frequent falls, from the bench above. It was
shut in by high, perpendicular banks, in which were strata of white
laminated marl. Its bed was perfectly dry, and the leading feature of the
whole region is one of remarkable aridity, and perfect freedom from
moisture. In about six miles we crossed the bed of another dry creek; and,
continuing our ride over high level prairie, a little before sundown we
came suddenly upon a beautiful creek, which revived us with a feeling of
delighted surprise by the pleasant contrast of the deep verdure of its
banks with the parched desert we had passed. We had suffered much to-day,
both men and horses, for want of water; having met with it but once in our
uninterrupted march of forty miles; and an exclusive meat diet creates
much thirst.

"_Les bestias tienen mucha hambre_," said the young Spaniard,
inquiringly: "_y la gente tambien_," said I, "_amiago_, we'll
camp here." A stream of good and clear water ran winding about through the
little valley, and a herd of buffalo were quietly feeding a little
distance below. It was quite a hunter's paradise; and while some ran down
towards the band to kill one for supper, others collected _bois de
vache_ for a fire, there being no wood; and I amused myself with
hunting for plants among the grass.

It will be seen, by occasional remarks on the geological formation, that
the constituents of the soil in these regions are good, and every day
served to strengthen the impression in my mind, confirmed by subsequent
observation, that the barren appearance of the country is due almost
entirely to the extreme dryness of the climate. Along our route, the
country had seemed to increase constantly in elevation. According to the
indication of the barometer, we were at our encampment 5,440 feet above
the sea.

The evening was very clear, with a fresh breeze from the south, 50 deg. east.
The barometer at sunset was 24.862, the thermometer attached showing 68 deg..
I supposed this to be a fork of Lodge Pole creek, so far as I could
determine from our uncertain means of information. Astronomical
observations gave for the camp a longitude of 104 deg. 39' 37", and latitude
41 deg. 08' 31".

14th.--The wind continued fresh from the same quarter in the morning; the
day being clear, with the exception of a few clouds in the horizon. At our
camp, at six o'clock, the height of the barometer was 24.830, the attached
thermometer 61 deg.. Our course this morning was directly north by compass,
the variation being 15 deg. or 16 deg. easterly. A ride of four miles brought us
to Lodge Pole creek, which we had seen at the mouth of the South fork;
crossing on the way two dry streams, in eighteen miles from our encampment
of the past night, we reached a high bleak ridge, composed entirely of the
same earthy limestone and marl previously described. I had never seen any
thing which impressed so strongly on my mind a feeling of desolation. The
valley, through which ran the waters of Horse creek, lay in view to the
north, but too far to have any influence on the immediate view. On the
peak of the ridge where I was standing, some seven hundred feet above the
river, the wind was high and bleak; the barren and arid country seemed as
if it had been swept by fires, and in every direction the same dull ash-
colored hue, derived from the formation, met the eye. On the summits were
some stunted pines, many of them dead, all wearing the same ashen hue of
desolation. We left the place with pleasure; and, after we had descended
several hundred feet, halted in one of the ravines, which, at the distance
of every mile or two, cut the flanks of the ridge with little rushing
streams, wearing something of a mountain character. We had already begun
to exchange the comparatively barren lands for those of a more fertile
character. Though the sandstone formed the broken banks of the creek, yet
they were covered with a thin grass; and the fifty or sixty feet which
formed the bottom land of the little stream were clothed with very
luxuriant grass, among which I remarked willow and cherry, (_cerasus
virginiana_,) and a quantity of gooseberry and currant bushes occupied
the greater part.

The creek was three or four feet broad, and about six inches deep, with a
swift current of clear water, and tolerably cool. We had struck it too low
down to find the cold water, which we should have enjoyed nearer to its
sources. At two, P.M., the barometer was at 25.050, and the attached
thermometer 104 deg.. A day of hot sunshine, with clouds, and moderate breeze
from the south. Continuing down the stream, in about four miles we reached
its mouth, at one of the main branches of Horse creek. Looking back upon
the ridge, whose direction appeared to be a little to the north of east,
we saw it seamed at frequent intervals with the dark lines of wooded
streams, affluents of the river that flowed so far as we could see along
its base. We crossed, in the space of twelve miles from our noon halt,
three or four forks of Horse creek, and encamped at sunset on the most
easterly.

The fork on which we encamped appeared to have followed an easterly
direction up to this place; but here it makes a very sudden bend to the
north, passing between two ranges of precipitous hills, called, as I was
informed, Goshen's hole. There is somewhere in or near this locality a
place so called, but I am not certain that it was the place of our
encampment. Looking back upon the spot, at the distance of a few miles to
the northward, the hills appear to shut in the prairie, through which runs
the creek, with a semicircular sweep, which might very naturally be called
a hole in the bills. The geological composition of the ridge is the same
which constitutes the rock of the Court-house and Chimney, on the North
fork, which appeared to me a continuation of this ridge. The winds and
rains work this formation into a variety of singular forms. The pass into
Goshen's hole is about two miles wide, and the hill on the western side
imitates, in an extraordinary manner, a massive fortified place, with a
remarkable fulness of detail. The rock is marl and earthy limestone,
white, without the least appearance of vegetation, and much resembles
masonry at a little distance; and here it sweeps around a level area two
or three hundred yards in diameter, and in the form of a half moon,
terminating on either extremity in enormous bastions. Along the whole line
of the parapets appear domes and slender minarets, forty or fifty feet
high, giving it every appearance of an old fortified town. On the waters
of White river, where this formation exists in great extent, it presents
appearances which excite the admiration of the solitary voyageur, and form
a frequent theme of their conversation when speaking of the wonders of the
country. Sometimes it offers the perfectly illusive appearance of a large
city, with numerous streets and magnificent buildings, among which the
Canadians never fail to see their _cabaret_--and sometimes it takes
the form of a solitary house, with many large chambers, into which they
drive their horses at night, and sleep in these natural defences perfectly
secure from any attack of prowling savages. Before reaching our camp at
Goshen's hole, in crossing the immense detritus at the foot of the Castle
rock, we were involved amidst winding passages cut by the waters of the
hill; and where, with a breadth scarcely large enough for the passage of a
horse, the walls rise thirty and forty feet perpendicularly. This
formation supplies the discoloration of the Platte. At sunset, the height
of the mercurial column was 25.500, the attached thermometer 80 deg., and wind
moderate from S. 38 deg. E. Clouds covered the sky with the rise of the moon,
but I succeeded in obtaining the usual astronomical observations, which
placed us in latitude 41 deg. 40' 13", and longitude 104 deg. 24' 36".

15th.--At six this morning, the barometer was at 25.515 the thermometer
72 deg.; the day was fine, with some clouds looking dark on the south, with a
fresh breeze from the same quarter. We found that in our journey across
the country we had kept too much to the eastward. This morning,
accordingly, we traveled by compass some 15 or 20 to the west of north,
and struck the Platte some thirteen miles below Fort Laramie. The day was
extremely hot, and among the hills the wind seemed to have just issued
from an oven. Our horses were much distressed, as we had traveled hard;
and it was with some difficulty that they were all brought to the Platte,
which we reached at one o'clock. In riding in towards the river, we found
the trail of our carts, which appeared to have passed a day or two since.

After having allowed our animals two hours for food and repose, we resumed
our journey, and towards the close of the day came in sight of Laramie's
fork. Issuing from the river hills, we came first in view of Fort Platte,
a post belonging to Messrs. Sybille, Adams & Co., situated immediately in
the point of land at the junction of Laramie with the Platte. Like the
post we had visited on the South fork, it was built of earth, and still
unfinished, being enclosed with walls (or rather houses) on three of the
sides, and open on the fourth to the river. A few hundred yards brought us
in view of the post of the American Fur Company, called Fort John, or
Laramie. This was a large post having more the air of military
construction than the fort at the mouth of the river. It is on the left
bank, on a rising ground some twenty-five feet above the water; and its
lofty walls, whitewashed and picketed, with the large bastions at the
angles, gave it quite an imposing appearance in the uncertain light of
evening. A cluster of lodges, which the language told us belonged to Sioux
Indians, was pitched under the walls; and, with the fine background of the
Black hills and the prominent peak of Laramie mountain, strongly drawn in
the clear light of the western sky, where the sun had already set, the
whole formed at the moment a strikingly beautiful picture. From the
company at St. Louis I had letters for Mr. Boudeau, the gentleman in
charge of the post, by whom I was received with great hospitality and an
efficient kindness, which was invaluable to me during my stay in the
country. I found our people encamped on the bank, a short distance above
the fort. All were well; and, in the enjoyment of a bountiful supper,
which coffee and bread made luxurious to us, we soon forgot the fatigues
of the last ten days.

16th.--I found that, during my absence, the situation of affairs had
undergone some change; and the usual quiet and somewhat monotonous
regularity of the camp had given place to excitement and alarm. The
circumstances which occasioned this change will be found narrated in the
following extract from the journal of Mr. Preuss, which commences with the
day of our separation on the South fork of the Platte:

"6th.--We crossed the plateau or highland between the two forks in about
six hours. I let my horse go as slow as he liked, to indemnify us both for
the previous hardship; and about noon we reached the North fork. There was
no sign that our party had passed; we rode, therefore, to some pine trees,
unsaddled the hoses, and stretched our limbs on the grass, awaiting the
arrival of our company. After remaining here two hours, my companion
became impatient, mounted his horse again, and rode off down the river to
see if he could discover our people. I felt so marode yet, that it was a
horrible idea to me to bestride that saddle again; so I lay still. I knew
they could not come any other way, and then my companion, one of the best
men of the company, would not abandon me. The sun went down--he did not
come. Uneasy I did not feel, but very hungry. I had no provisions, but I
could make a fire; and as I espied two doves in a tree, I tried to kill
one. But it needs a better marksman than myself to kill a little bird with
a rifle. I made a fire, however, lighted my pipe--this true friend of mine
in every emergency--lay down, and let my thoughts wander to the far east.
It was not many minutes after when I heard the tramp of a horse, and my
faithful companion was by my side. He had found the party, who had been
delayed by making their _cache_, about seven miles below. To the good
supper which he brought with him I did ample justice. He had forgotten
salt, and I tried the soldier's substitute in time of war, and used
gunpowder; but it answered badly--bitter enough, but no flavor of kitchen
salt. I slept well; and was only disturbed by two owls, which were
attracted by the fire, and took their place in the tree under which we
slept. Their music seemed as disagreeable to my companion as to myself; he
fired his rifle twice, and then they let us alone.

"7th.--At about 10 o'clock, the party arrived; and we continued our
journey through a country which offered but little to interest the
traveler. The soil was much more sandy than in the valley below the
confluence of the forks, and the face of the country no longer presented
the refreshing green which had hitherto characterized it. The rich grass
was now found only in dispersed spots, on low grounds, and on the bottom
land of the streams. A long drought, joined to extreme heat, had so
parched up the upper prairies, that they were in many places bald, or
covered only with a thin growth of yellow and poor grass. The nature of
the soil renders it extremely susceptible to the vicissitudes of the
climate. Between the forks, and from their junction to the Black hills,
the formation consists of marl and a soft earthy limestone, with granitic
sandstone. Such a formation cannot give rise to a sterile soil; and, on
our return in September, when the country had been watered by frequent
rains, the valley of the Platte looked like a garden; so rich was the
verdure of the grasses, and so luxuriant the bloom of abundant flowers.
The wild sage begins to make its appearance, and timber is so scarce that
we generally made our fires of the _bois de vache_. With the
exception of now and then an isolated tree or two, standing like a
lighthouse on the river bank, there is none to be seen.

"8th.--Our road to-day was a solitary one. No game made its appearance--
not even a buffalo or a stray antelope; and nothing occurred to break the
monotony until about 5 o'clock, when the caravan made a sudden halt. There
was a galloping in of scouts and horsemen from every side--a hurrying to
and fro in noisy confusion; rifles were taken from their covers; bullet
pouches examined: in short, there was the cry of 'Indians,' heard again. I
had become so much accustomed to these alarms, that they now made but
little impression on me; and before I had time to become excited, the
newcomers were ascertained to be whites. It was a large party of traders
and trappers, conducted by Mr. Bridger, a man well known in the history of
the country. As the sun was low, and there was a fine grass patch not far
ahead, they turned back and encamped for the night with us. Mr. Bridger
was invited to supper; and, after the _table-cloth_ was removed, we
listened with eager interest to an account of their adventures. What they
had met, we would be likely to encounter; the chances which had befallen
them, would probably happen to us; and we looked upon their life as a
picture of our own. He informed us that the condition of the country had
become exceedingly dangerous. The Sioux, who had been badly disposed, had
broken out into open hostility, and in the preceding autumn his party had
encountered them in a severe engagement, in which a number of lives had
been lost on both sides. United with the Cheyenne and Gros Ventre Indians,
they were scouring the upper country in war parties of great force, and
were at this time in the neighborhood of the _Red Buttes_, a famous
landmark, which was directly in our path. They had declared war upon every
living thing that should be found westward of that point; though their
main object was to attack a large camp of whites and Snake Indians, who
had a rendezvous in the Sweet Water valley. Availing himself of his
intimate knowledge of the country, he had reached Laramie by an unusual
route through the Black hills, and avoided coming into contact with any of
the scattered parties. This gentleman offered his services to accompany us
as far as the head of the Sweet Water; but the absence of our leader,
which was deeply regretted by us all, rendered it impossible for us to
enter upon such arrangements. In a camp consisting of men whose lives had
been spent in this country, I expected to find every one prepared for
occurrences of this nature; but, to my great surprise, I found, on the
contrary, that this news had thrown them all into the greatest
consternation; and, on every side, I heard only one exclamation, '_Il
n'y aura pas de vie pour nous_.' All the night, scattered groups were
assembled around the fires, smoking their pipes, and listening with the
greatest eagerness to exaggerated details of Indian hostilities; and in
the morning I found the camp dispirited, and agitated by a variety of
conflicting opinions. A majority of the people were strongly disposed to
return; but Clement Lambert, with some five or six others, professed their
determination to follow Mr. Fremont to the uttermost limit of his journey.
The others yielded to their remonstrances, and somewhat ashamed of their
cowardice, concluded to advance at least as far as Laramie fork, eastward
of which they were aware no danger was to be apprehended. Notwithstanding
the confusion and excitement, we were very early on the road, as the days
were extremely hot, and we were anxious to profit by the freshness of the
morning. The soft marly formation, over which we were now journeying,
frequently offers to the traveler views of remarkable and picturesque
beauty. To several of these localities, where the winds and the rain have
worked the bluffs into curious shapes, the voyageurs have given names
according to some fancied resemblance. One of these, called the _Court-
house_, we passed about six miles from our encampment of last night,
and towards noon came in sight of the celebrated _Chimney rock_. It
looks, at this distance of about thirty miles, like what it is called--the
long chimney of a steam factory establishment, or a shot tower in
Baltimore. Nothing occurred to interrupt the quiet of the day, and we
encamped on the river, after a march of twenty-four miles. Buffalo had
become very scarce, and but one cow had been killed, of which the meat had
been cut into thin slices, and hung around the carts to dry.

"10th.--We continued along the same fine plainly beaten road, which the
smooth surface of the country afforded us, for a distance of six hundred
and thirty miles, from the frontiers of Missouri to the Laramie fork. In
the course of the day we met some whites, who were following along in the
train of Mr. Bridger; and, after a day's journey of twenty-four miles,
encamped about sunset at the Chimney rock. It consists of marl and earthy
limestone, and the weather is rapidly diminishing its height, which is not
more than two hundred feet above the river. Travelers who visited it some
years since, placed its height at upwards of 500 feet.

"11th.--The valley of the North fork is of a variable breadth, from one to
four, and sometimes six miles. Fifteen miles from the Chimney rock we
reached one of those places where the river strikes the bluffs, and forces
the road to make a considerable circuit over the uplands. This presented
an escarpment on the river of about nine hundred yards in length, and is
familiarly known as Scott's bluffs. We had made a journey of thirty miles
before we again struck the river, at a place where some scanty grass
afforded an insufficient pasturage to our animals. About twenty miles from
the Chimney rock we had found a very beautiful spring of excellent and
cold water; but it was in such a deep ravine, and so small, that the
animals could not profit by it, and we therefore halted only a few
minutes, and found a resting-place ten miles further on. The plain between
Scott's bluffs and Chimney rock was almost entirely covered with drift-
wood, consisting principally of cedar, which, we were informed, had been
supplied from the Black hills, in a flood five or six years since.

"12th.--Nine miles from our encampment of yesterday we crossed Horse
creek, a shallow stream of clear water, about seventy yards wide, falling
into the Platte on the right bank. It was lightly timbered, and great
quantities of drift-wood were piled up on the banks, appearing to be
supplied by the creek from above. After a journey of twenty-six miles, we
encamped on a rich bottom, which afforded fine grass to our animals.
Buffalo have entirely disappeared, and we live now upon the dried meat,
which is exceedingly poor food. The marl and earthy limestone, which
constituted the formation for several days past, had changed, during the
day, into a compact white or grayish-white limestone, sometimes containing
hornstone; and at the place of our encampment this evening, some strata in
the river hills cropped out to the height of thirty or forty feet,
consisting of fine-grained granitic sandstone; one of the strata closely
resembling gneiss.

"13th.--To-day, about four o'clock, we reached Fort Laramie, where we were
cordially received. We pitched our camp a little above the fort, on the
bank of the Laramie river, in which the pure and clear water of the
mountain stream looked refreshingly cool, and made a pleasant contrast to
the muddy, yellow waters of the Platte."

I walked up to visit our friends at the fort, which is a quadrangular
structure, built of clay, after the fashion of the Mexicans, who are
generally employed in building them. The walls are about fifteen feet
high, surmounted with a wooden palisade, and form a portion of ranges of
houses, which entirely surround a yard of about one hundred and thirty
feet square. Every apartment has its door and window,--all, of course,
opening on the inside. There are two entrances, opposite each other, and
midway the wall, one of which is a large and public entrance; the other
smaller and more private--a sort of postern gate. Over the great entrance
is a square tower with loopholes, and, like the rest of the work, built of
earth. At two of the angles, and diagonally opposite each other, are large
square bastions, so arranged as to sweep the four faces of the walls.

This post belongs to the American Fur Company, and, at the time of our
visit, was in charge of Mr. Boudeau. Two of the company's clerks, Messrs.
Galpin and Kellogg, were with him, and he had in the fort about sixteen
men. As usual, these had found wives among the Indian squaws; and, with
the usual accompaniment of children, the place had quite a populous
appearance. It is hardly necessary to say, that the object of the
establishment is trade with the neighboring tribes, who, in the course of
the year, generally make two or three visits to the fort. In addition to
this, traders, with a small outfit, are constantly kept amongst them. The
articles of trade consist, on the one side, almost entirely of buffalo
robes; and, on the other, of blankets, calicoes, guns, powder and lead,
with such cheap ornaments as glass beads, looking-glasses, rings,
vermilion for painting, tobacco, and principally, and in spite of the
prohibition, of spirits, brought into the country in the form of alcohol,
and diluted with water before sold. While mentioning this fact, it is but
justice to the American Fur Company to state, that, throughout the
country, I have always found them strenuously opposed to the introduction
of spirituous liquors. But in the present state of things, when the
country is supplied with alcohol--when a keg of it will purchase from an
Indian every thing he possesses--his furs, his lodge, his horses, and even
his wife and children--and when any vagabond who has money enough to
purchase a mule can go into a village and trade against them successfully,
without withdrawing entirely from the trade, it is impossible for them to
discontinue its use. In their opposition to this practice, the company is
sustained, not only by their obligation to the laws of the country and the
welfare of the Indians, but clearly, also, on grounds of policy; for, with
heavy and expensive outfits, they contend at manifestly great disadvantage
against the numerous independent and unlicensed traders, who enter the
country from various avenues, from the United States and from Mexico,
having no other stock in trade than some kegs of liquor, which they sell
at the modest price of thirty-six dollars per gallon. The difference
between the regular trader and the _coureur des bois_, (as the French
call the itinerant or peddling traders,) with respect to the sale of
spirits, is here, as it always has been, fixed and permanent, and growing
out of the nature of their trade. The regular trader looks ahead, and has
an interest in the preservation of the Indians, and in the regular pursuit
of their business, and the preservation of their arms, horses, and every
thing necessary to their future and permanent success in hunting: the
_coureur des bois_ has no permanent interest, and gets what he can,
and for what he can, from every Indian he meets, even at the risk of
disabling him from doing any thing more at hunting.

The fort had a very cool and clean appearance. The great entrance, in
which I found the gentlemen assembled, and which was floored, and about
fifteen feet long, made a pleasant, shaded seat, through which the breeze
swept constantly; for this country is famous for high winds. In the course
of the conversation, I learned the following particulars, which will
explain the condition of the country. For several years the Cheyennes and
Sioux had gradually become more and more hostile to the whites, and in the
latter part of August, 1841, had had a rather severe engagement with a
party of sixty men, under the command of Mr. Frapp of St. Louis. The
Indians lost eight or ten warriors, and the whites had their leader and
four men killed. This fight took place on the waters of Snake river; and
it was this party, on their return under Mr. Bridger, which had spread so
much alarm among my people. In the course of the spring, two other small
parties had been cut off by the Sioux--one on their return from the Crow
nation, and the other among the Black hills. The emigrants to Oregon and
Mr. Bridger's party met here, a few days before our arrival. Divisions and
misunderstandings had grown up among them; they were already somewhat
disheartened by the fatigue of their long and wearisome journey, and the
feet of their cattle had become so much worn as to be scarcely able to
travel. In this situation, they were not likely to find encouragement in
the hostile attitude of the Indians, and the new and unexpected
difficulties which sprang up before them. They were told that the country
was entirely swept of grass, and that few or no buffalo were to be found
on their line of route; and, with their weakened animals, it would be
impossible for them to transport their heavy wagons over the mountains.
Under these circumstances, they disposed of their wagons and cattle at the
forts; selling them at the prices they had paid in the States, and taking
in exchange coffee and sugar at one dollar a pound, and miserable worn-out
horses, which died before they reached the mountains. Mr. Boudeau informed
me that he had purchased thirty, and the lower fort eighty head of fine
cattle, some of them of the Durham breed. Mr. Fitzpatrick, whose name and
high reputation are familiar to all who interest themselves in the history
of this country, had reached Laramie in company with Mr. Bridger; and the
emigrants were fortunate enough to obtain his services to guide them as
far as the British post of Fort Hall, about two hundred and fifty miles
beyond the South Pass of the mountains. They had started for this post on
the 4th of July, and immediately after their departure, a war party of
three hundred and fifty braves set out upon their trail. As their
principal chief or partisan had lost some relations in the recent fight,
and had sworn to kill the first whites on his path, it was supposed that
their intention was to attack the party, should a favorable opportunity
offer; or, if they were foiled in their principal object by the vigilance
of Mr. Fitzpatrick, content themselves with stealing horses and cutting
off stragglers. These had been gone but a few days previous to our
arrival.

The effect of the engagement with Mr. Frapp had been greatly to irritate
the hostile spirit of the savages; and immediately subsequent to that
event, the Gross Ventre Indians had united with the Oglallahs and
Cheyennes, and taken the field in great force--so far as I could
ascertain, to the amount of eight hundred lodges. Their object was to make
an attack on a camp of Snake and Crow Indians, and a body of about one
hundred whites, who had made a rendezvous somewhere in the Green river
valley, or on the Sweet Water. After spending some time in buffalo hunting
in the neighborhood of the Medicine Bow mountain, they were to cross over
to the Green river waters, and return to Laramie by way of the South Pass
and the Sweet Water valley. According to the calculation of the Indians,
Mr. Boudeau informed me they were somewhere near the head of the Sweet
Water. I subsequently learned that the party led by Mr. Fitzpatrick were
overtaken by their pursuers near Rock Independence, in the valley of the
Sweet Water; but his skill and resolution saved them from surprise; and,
small as his force was; they did not venture to attack him openly. Here
they lost one of their party by an accident, and, continuing up the
valley, they came suddenly upon the large village. From these they met
with a doubtful reception. Long residence and familiar acquaintance had
given to Mr. Fitzpatrick great personal influence among them, and a
portion of them were disposed to let him pass quietly; but by far the
greater number were inclined to hostile measures; and the chiefs spent the
whole of one night, during which they kept the little party in the midst
of them, in council, debating the question of attacking them the next day;
but the influence of "the Broken Hand," as they called Mr. Fitzpatrick,
(one of his hands having been shattered by the bursting of a gun,) at
length prevailed, and obtained for them an unmolested passage; but they
sternly assured him that this path was no longer open, and that any party
of the whites which should hereafter be found upon it would meet with
certain destruction. From all that I have been able to learn, I have no
doubt that the emigrants owe their lives to Mr. Fitzpatrick.

Thus it would appear that the country was swarming with scattered war
parties; and when I heard, during the day, the various contradictory and
exaggerated rumors which were incessantly repeated to them, I was not
surprised that so much alarm prevailed among my men. Carson, one of the
best and most experienced mountaineers, fully supported the opinion given
by Bridger of the dangerous state of the country, and openly expressed his
conviction that we could not escape without some sharp encounters with the
Indians. In addition to this, he made his will; and among the
circumstances which were constantly occurring to increase their alarm,
this was the most unfortunate; and I found that a number of my party had
become so much intimidated, that they had requested to be discharged at
this place. I dined to-day at Fort Platte, which has been mentioned as
situated at the junction of Laramie river with the Nebraska. Here I heard
a confirmation of the statements given above. The party of warriors, which
had started a few days since on the trail of the emigrants, was expected
back in fourteen days, to join the village with which their families and
the old men had remained. The arrival of the latter was hourly expected;
and some Indians have just come in who had left them on the Laramie fork,
about twenty miles above. Mr. Bissonette, one of the traders belonging to
Fort Platte, urged the propriety of taking with me an interpreter and two
or three old men of the village; in which case, he thought there would be
little or no hazard in encountering any of the war parties The principal
danger was in being attacked before they should know who we were.

They had a confused idea of the numbers and power of our people, and
dreaded to bring upon themselves the military force of the United States.
This gentleman, who spoke the language fluently, offered his services to
accompany me so far as the Red Buttes. He was desirous to join the large
party on its return, for purposes of trade, and it would suit his views,
as well as my own, to go with us to the Buttes; beyond which point it
would be impossible to prevail on a Sioux to venture, on account of their
fear of the Crows. From Fort Laramie to the Red Buttes, by the ordinary
road, is one hundred and thirty-five miles; and, though only on the
threshold of danger, it seemed better to secure the services of an
interpreter for the partial distance, than to have none at all.

So far as frequent interruption from the Indians would allow, we occupied
ourselves in making some astronomical calculations, and bringing the
general map to this stage of our journey; but the tent was generally
occupied by a succession of our ceremonious visitors. Some came for
presents, and others for information of our object in coming to the
country; now and then, one would dart up to the tent on horseback, jerk
off his trappings, and stand silently at the door, holding his horse by
the halter, signifying his desire to trade. Occasionally a savage would
stalk in with an invitation to a feast of honor, a dog feast, and
deliberately sit down and wait quietly until I was ready to accompany him.
I went to one; the women and children were sitting outside the lodge, and
we took our seats on buffalo robes spread around. The dog was in a large
pot over the fire, in the middle of the lodge, and immediately on our
arrival was dished up in large wooden bowls, one of which was handed to
each. The flesh appeared very glutinous, with something of the flavor and
appearance of mutton. Feeling something move behind me, I looked round and
found that I had taken my seat among a litter of fat young puppies. Had I
been nice in such matters, the prejudices of civilization might have
interfered with my tranquillity; but, fortunately, I am not of delicate
nerves, and continued quietly to empty my platter.

The weather was cloudy at evening, with a moderate south wind, and the
thermometer at six o'clock 85 deg.. I was disappointed in my hope of obtaining
an observation of an occultation, which took place about midnight. The
moon brought with her heavy banks of clouds, through which she scarcely
made her appearance during the night.

The morning of the 18th was cloudy and calm, the thermometer at six
o'clock at 64 deg.. About nine, with a moderate wind from the west, a storm of
rain came on, accompanied by sharp thunder and lightning, which lasted
about an hour. During the day the expected village arrived, consisting
principally of old men, women, and children. They had a considerable
number of horses, and large troops of dogs. Their lodges were pitched near
the fort, and our camp was constantly crowded with Indians of all sizes,
from morning until night, at which time some of the soldiers generally
came to drive them all off to the village. My tent was the only place
which they respected. Here only came the chiefs and men of distinction,
and generally one of them remained to drive away the women and children.
The numerous strange instruments, applied to still stranger uses, excited
awe and admiration among them; and those which I used in talking with the
sun and stars they looked upon with especial reverence, as mysterious
things of "great medicine."

Of the three barometers which I had brought with me thus far successfully,
I found that two were out of order, and spent the greater part of the 19th
in repairing them--an operation of no small difficulty in the midst of the
incessant interruptions to which I was subjected. We had the misfortune to
break here a large thermometer, graduated to show fifths of a degree,
which I used to ascertain the temperature of boiling water, and with which
I had promised myself some interesting experiments in the mountains. We
had but one remaining, on which the graduation extended sufficiently high;
and this was too small for exact observations. During our stay here, the
men had been engaged in making numerous repairs, arranging pack-saddles,
and otherwise preparing for the chance of a rough road and mountain
travel. All things of this nature being ready, I gathered them around me
in the evening, and told them that "I had determined to proceed the next
day. They were all well armed. I had engaged the services of Mr.
Bissonette as interpreter, and had taken, in the circumstances, every
possible means to ensure our safety. In the rumors we had heard, I
believed there was much exaggeration; that they were men accustomed to
this kind of life and to the country; and that these were the dangers of
every-day occurrence, and to be expected in the ordinary course of their
service. They had heard of the unsettled condition of the country before
leaving St. Louis, and therefore could not make it a reason for breaking
their engagements. Still, I was unwilling to take with me, on a service of
some certain danger, men on whom I could not rely; and I had understood
that there were among them some who were disposed to cowardice, and
anxious to return; they had but to come forward at once, and state their
desire, and they would be discharged, with the amount due to them for the
time they had served." To their honor be it said, there was but one among
them who had the face to come forward and avail himself of the permission.
I asked him some few questions, in order to expose him to the ridicule of
the men, and let him go. The day after our departure, he engaged himself
to one of the forts, and set off with a party to the Upper Missouri. I did
not think that the situation of the country justified me in taking our
young companions, Messrs. Brant and Benton, along with us. In case of
misfortune, it would have been thought, at the least, an act of great
imprudence; and therefore, though reluctantly, I determined to leave them.
Randolph had been the life of the camp, and the "_petit garcon_" was
much regretted by the men, to whom his buoyant spirits had afforded great
amusement. They all, however, agreed in the propriety of leaving him at
the fort, because, as they said, he might cost the lives of some of the
men in a fight with the Indians.

21st.--A portion of our baggage, with our field-notes and observations,
and several instruments, were left at the fort. One of the gentlemen, Mr.
Galpin, took charge of a barometer, which he engaged to observe during my
absence; and I in trusted to Randolph, by way of occupation, the regular
winding up of two of my chronometers, which were among the instruments
left. Our observations showed that the chronometer which I retained for
the continuation of our voyage had preserved its rate in a most
satisfactory manner. As deduced from it, the longitude of Fort Laramie is
7h 01' 21", and from Lunar distance 7h 01' 29"; giving for the adopted
longitude 104 deg. 47' 43". Comparing the barometrical observations made
during our stay here, with those of Dr. G. Engleman at St. Louis, we find
for the elevation of the fort above the Gulf of Mexico 4,470 feet. The
winter climate here is remarkably mild for the latitude; but rainy weather
is frequent, and the place is celebrated for winds, of which the
prevailing one is the west. An east wind in summer, and a south wind in
winter, are said to be always accompanied with rain.

We were ready to depart; the tents were struck, the mules geared up, and
our horses saddled, and we walked up to the fort to take the _stirrup
cup_ with our friends in an excellent home-brewed preparation. While
thus pleasantly engaged, seated in one of the little cool chambers, at the
door of which a man had been stationed to prevent all intrusion from the
Indians, a number of chiefs, several of them powerful, fine-looking men,
forced their way into the room in spite of all opposition. Handing me the
following letter, they took their seats in silence:--

"FORT PLATTE, Juillet 21, 1842.

"Mr. Fremont:--Les chefs s'etant assembles presentement me disent de vous
avertir de ne point vous mettre en route, avant que le parti de jeunes
gens, qui est en dehors, soient de retour. De plus, ils me disent qu'ils
sont tres-certains qu'ils feront feu a la premiere rencontre. Ils doivent
etre de retour dans sept a huit jours. Excusez si je vous fais ces
observations, mais il me semble qu'il est mon devoir de vous avertir du
danger. Meme de plus, les chefs sont les porteurs de ce billet, qui vous
defendent de partir avant le retour des guerriers.

"Je suis votre obeissant serviteur,
"JOSEPH BISSONETTE,
"Par L.B. CHARTRAIN.


"_Les noms de quelques chefs_.--Le Chapeau de Loutre, le Casseur de
Fleches, la Nuit Noir, la Queue de Boeuf."

[Translation.]

"FORT PLATTE, July 21, 1842.

"MR. FREMONT:--The chiefs having assembled in council, have just told me
to warn you not to set out before the party of young men which is now out
shall have returned. Furthermore, they tell me that they are very sure
they will fire upon you as soon as they meet you. They are expected back
in seven or eight days. Excuse me for making these observations, but it
seems my duty to warn you of danger. Moreover, the chiefs who prohibit
your setting out before the return of the warriors are the bearers of this
note.

"I am your obedient servant,
"JOSEPH BISSONETTE,
"By L.B. CHARTRAIN.


"_Names of some of the chiefs_.--The Otter Hat, the Breaker of
Arrows, the Black Night, the Bull's Tail."

After reading this, I mentioned its purport to my companions; and, seeing
that all were fully possessed of its contents, one of the Indians rose up,
and, having first shaken hands with me, spoke as follows:

"You have come among us at a bad time. Some of our people have been
killed, and our young men, who are gone to the mountains, are eager to
avenge the blood of their relations, which has been shed by the whites.
Our young men are bad, and, if they meet you, they will believe that you
are carrying goods and ammunition to their enemies, and will fire upon
you. You have told us that this will make war. We know that our great
father has many soldiers and big guns, and we are anxious to have our
lives. We love the whites, and are desirous of peace. Thinking of all
these things, we have determined to keep you here until our warriors
return. We are glad to see you among us. Our father is rich, and we
expected that you would have brought presents to us--horses, guns, and
blankets. But we are glad to see you. We look upon your coming as the
light which goes before the sun; for you will tell our great father that
you have seen us, and that we are naked and poor, and have nothing to eat;
and he will send us all these things." He was followed by others to the
same effect.

The observations of the savage appeared reasonable; but I was aware that
they had in view only the present object of detaining me, and were
unwilling I should go further into the country. In reply, I asked them,
through the interpretation of Mr. Boudeau, to select two or three of their
number to accompany us until we should meet their people--they should
spread their robes in my tent, and eat at my table, and on their return I
would give them presents in reward of their services. They declined,
saying, that there were no young men left in the village, and that they
were too old to travel so many days on horseback, and preferred now to
smoke their pipes in the lodge, and let the warriors go on the war-path.
Besides, they had no power over the young men, and were afraid to
interfere with them. In my turn I addressed them.

"You say that you love the whites; why have you killed so many already
this spring? You say that you love the whites, and are full of many
expressions of friendship to us; but you are not willing to undergo the
fatigue of a few days' ride to save our lives. We do not believe what you
have said, and will not listen to you. Whatever a chief among us, tells
his soldiers to do, is done. We are the soldiers of the great chief, your
father. He has told us to come here and see this country, and all the
Indians, his children. Why should we not go? Before we came, we heard that
you had killed his people, and ceased to be his children; but we came
among you peaceably, holding out our hands. Now we find that the stories
we heard are not lies, and that you are no longer his friends and
children. We have thrown away our bodies, and will not turn back. When you
told us that your young men would kill us, you did not know that our
hearts were strong, and you did not see the rifles which my young men
carry in their hands. We are few, and you are many, and may kill us all;
but there will be much crying in your villages, for many of your young men
will stay behind, and forget to return with your warriors from the
mountains. Do you think that our great chief will let his soldiers die,
and forget to cover their graves? Before the snows melt again, his
warriors will sweep away your villages as the fire does the prairie in the
autumn. See! I have pulled down my _white houses_, and my people are
ready: when the sun is ten paces higher, we shall be on the march. If you
have any thing to tell us, you will say it soon."

I broke up the conference, as I could do nothing with these people; and,
being resolved to proceed, nothing was to be gained by delay. Accompanied
by our hospitable friends, we returned to the camp. We had mounted our
horses, and our parting salutations had been exchanged, when one of the
chiefs (the Bull's Tail) arrived to tell me that they had determined to
send a young man with us; and if I would point out the place of our
evening camp, he should join us there. "The young man is poor," said he;
"he has no horse, and expects you to give him one." I described to him the
place where I intended to encamp, and, shaking hands, in a few minutes we
were among the hills, and this last habitation of whites shut out from our
view.

The road led over an interesting plateau between the North fork of the
Platte on the right, and Laramie river on the left. At the distance of ten
miles from the fort, we entered the sandy bed of a creek, a kind of
defile, shaded by precipitous rocks, down which we wound our way for
several hundred yards, to a place where, on the left bank, a very large
spring gushes with considerable noise and force out of the limestone rock.
It is called the "Warm Spring," and furnishes to the hitherto dry bed of
the creek a considerable rivulet. On the opposite side, a little below the
spring, is a lofty limestone escarpment, partially shaded by a grove of
large trees, whose green foliage, in contrast with the whiteness of the
rock, renders this a picturesque locality. The rock is fossiliferous, and,
so far as I was able to determine the character of the fossils, belongs to
the carboniferous limestone of the Missouri river, and is probably the
western limit of that formation. Beyond this point I met with no fossils
of any description.

I was desirous to visit the Platte near the point where it leaves the
Black hills, and therefore followed this stream, for two or three miles,
to its mouth, where I encamped on a spot which afforded good grass and
_prele (equisetum)_ for our animals. Our tents having been found too
thin to protect ourselves and the instruments from the rains, which in
this elevated country are attended with cold and unpleasant weather, I had
procured from the Indians at Laramie a tolerably large lodge, about
eighteen feet in diameter, and twenty feet in height. Such a lodge, when
properly pitched, is, from its conical form, almost perfectly secure
against the violent winds which are frequent in this region, and, with a
fire in the centre, is a dry and warm shelter in bad weather. By raising
the lower part, so as to permit the breeze to pass freely, it is converted
into a pleasant summer residence, with the extraordinary advantage of
being entirely free from musquitoes, one of which I never saw in an Indian
lodge. While we were engaged very unskilfully in erecting this, the
interpreter, Mr. Bissonette, arrived, accompanied by the Indian and his
wife. She laughed at our awkwardness, and offered her assistance, of which
we were frequently afterwards obliged to avail our selves, before the men
acquired sufficient expertness to pitch it without difficulty. From this
place we had a fine view of the gorge where the Platte issues from the
Black hills, changing its character abruptly from a mountain stream into a
river of the plains. Immediately around us the valley of the stream was
tolerably open; and at the distance of a few miles, where the river had
cut its way through the hills, was the narrow cleft, on one side of which
a lofty precipice of bright red rock rose vertically above the low hills
which lay between us.

22d.--In the morning, while breakfast was being prepared, I visited this
place with my favorite man, Basil Lajeunesse. Entering so far as there was
footing for the mules, we dismounted, and, tying our animals, continued
our way on foot. Like the whole country, the scenery of the river had
undergone an entire change, and was in this place the most beautiful I
have ever seen. The breadth of the stream, generally near that of its
valley, was from two to three hundred feet, with a swift current,
occasionally broken by rapids, and the water perfectly clear. On either
side rose the red precipices, and sometimes overhanging, two and four
hundred feet in height, crowned with green summits, on which were
scattered a few pines. At the foot of the rocks was the usual detritus,
formed of masses fallen from above. Among the pines that grew here, and on
the occasional banks, were the cherry, (_cerasus virginiana_,)
currants, and grains de boeuf, (_shepherdia argentea_.) Viewed in the
sunshine of a pleasant morning, the scenery was of a most striking and
romantic beauty, which arose from the picturesque disposition of the
objects, and the vivid contrast of colors. I thought with much pleasure of
our approaching descent in the canoe through such interesting places; and,
in the expectation of being able at that time to give to them a full
examination, did not now dwell so much as might have been desirable upon
the geological formations along the line of the river, where they are
developed with great clearness. The upper portion of the red strata
consists of very compact clay, in which are occasionally seen imbedded
large pebbles. Below was a stratum of compact red sandstone, changing a
little above the river into a very hard silicious limestone. There is a
small but handsome open prairie immediately below this place, on the left
bank of the river, which would be a good locality for a military post.
There are some open groves of cottonwood on the Platte. The small stream
which comes in at this place is well timbered with pine, and good building
rock is abundant.

If it is in contemplation to keep open the communication with Oregon
territory, a show of military force in this country is absolutely
necessary; and a combination of advantages renders the neighborhood of
Fort Laramie the most suitable place, on the line of the Platte, for the
establishment of a military post. It is connected with the mouth of the
Platte and the Upper Missouri by excellent roads, which are in frequent
use, and would not in any way interfere with the range of the buffalo, on
which the neighboring Indians mainly depend for support. It would render
any posts on the Lower Platte unnecessary; the ordinary communication
between it and the Missouri being sufficient to control the intermediate
Indians. It would operate effectually to prevent any such coalitions as
are now formed among the Gros Ventres, Sioux, Cheyennes, and other
Indians, and would keep the Oregon road through the valley of the Sweet
Water and the South Pass of the mountains constantly open. It lies at the
foot of a broken and mountainous region, along which, by the establishment
of small posts in the neighborhood of St. Vrain's fort, on the South fork
of the Platte, and Bent's fort, on the Arkansas, a line of communication
would be formed, by good wagon-roads, with our southern military posts,
which would entirely command the mountain passes, hold some of the most
troublesome tribes in check, and protect and facilitate our intercourse
with the neighboring Spanish settlements. The valleys of the rivers on
which they would be situated are fertile; the country, which supports
immense herds of buffalo, is admirably adapted to grazing; and herds of
cattle might be maintained by the posts, or obtained from the Spanish
country, which already supplies a portion of their provisions to the
trading posts mentioned above.

Just as we were leaving the camp this morning, our Indian came up, and
stated his intention of not proceeding any further until he had seen the
horse which I intended to give him. I felt strongly tempted to drive him
out of the camp; but his presence appeared to give confidence to my men,
and the interpreter thought it absolutely necessary. I was therefore
obliged to do what he requested, and pointed out the animal, with which he
seemed satisfied, and we continued our journey. I had imagined that Mr.
Bissonette's long residence had made him acquainted with the country; and,
according to his advice, proceeded directly forward, without attempting to
gain the usual road. He afterwards informed me that he had rarely ever
lost sight of the fort; but the effect of the mistake was to involve us
for a day or two among the hills, where, although we lost no time, we
encountered an exceedingly rough road.

To the south, along our line of march to-day, the main chain of the Black
or Laramie hills rises precipitously. Time did not permit me to visit
them; but, from comparative information, the ridge is composed of the
coarse sandstone or conglomerate hereafter described. It appears to enter
the region of clouds, which are arrested in their course, and lie in
masses along the summits. An inverted cone of black cloud (cumulus) rested
during all the forenoon on the lofty peak of Laramie mountain, which I
estimated to be about two thousand feet above the fort, or six thousand
five hundred above the sea. We halted to noon on the _Fourche Amere_,
so called from being timbered principally with the _liard amere_, (a
species of poplar,) with which the valley of the little stream is
tolerably well wooded, and which, with large expansive summits, grows to
the height of sixty or seventy feet.

The bed of the creek is sand and gravel, the water dispersed over the
broad bed in several shallow streams. We found here, on the right bank, in
the shade of the trees, a fine spring of very cold water. It will be
remarked that I do not mention, in this portion of the journey, the
temperature of the air, sand, springs, &c.--an omission which will be
explained in the course of the narrative. In my search for plants, I was
well rewarded at this place.

With the change in the geological formation on leaving Fort Laramie, the
whole face of the country has entirely altered its appearance. Eastward of
that meridian, the principal objects which strike the eye of a traveler
are the absence of timber, and the immense expanse of prairie, covered
with the verdure of rich grasses, and highly adapted for pasturage.
Wherever they are not disturbed by the vicinity of man, large herds of
buffalo give animation to this country. Westward of Laramie river, the
region is sandy, and apparently sterile; and the place of the grass is
usurped by the _artemisia_ and other odoriferous plants, to whose
growth the sandy soil and dry air of this elevated region seem highly
favorable.

One of the prominent characteristics in the face of the country is the
extraordinary abundance of the _artemisias_. They grow everywhere--on
the hills, and over the river bottoms, in tough, twisted, wiry clumps;
and, wherever the beaten track was left, they rendered the progress of the
carts rough and slow. As the country increased in elevation on our advance
to the west, they increased in size; and the whole air is strongly
impregnated and saturated with the odor of camphor and spirits of
turpentine which belongs to this plant. This climate has been found very
favorable to the restoration of health, particularly in cases of
consumption; and possibly the respiration of air so highly impregnated
with aromatic plants may have some influence.

Our dried meat had given out, and we began to be in want of food; but one
of the hunters killed an antelope this evening, which afforded some
relief, although it did not go far among so many hungry men. At eight
o'clock at night, after a march of twenty-seven miles, we reached our
proposed encampment on the _Fer-a-Cheval_, or Horse-shoe creek. Here
we found good grass, with a great quantity of _prele_, which
furnished good food for our tired animals. This creek is well timbered,
principally with _liard amere_, and, with the exception of Deer
creek, which we had not yet reached, is the largest affluent of the right
bank between Laramie and the mouth of the Sweet Water.

23d.--The present year had been one of unparalleled drought, and
throughout the country the water had been almost dried up. By availing
themselves of the annual rise, the traders had invariably succeeded in
carrying their furs to the Missouri; but this season, as has already been
mentioned, on both forks of the Platte they had entirely failed. The
greater number of the springs, and many of the streams, which made halting
places for the _voyageurs_, had been dried up. Everywhere the soil
looked parched and burnt, the scanty yellow grass crisped under the foot,
and even the hardest plants were destroyed by want of moisture. I think it
necessary to mention this fact, because to the rapid evaporation in such
an elevated region, nearly five thousand feet above the sea, almost wholly
unprotected by timber, should be attributed much of the sterile appearance
of the country, in the destruction of vegetation, and the numerous saline
efflorescences which covered the ground. Such I afterwards found to be the
case.

I was informed that the roving villages of Indians and travelers had never
met with difficulty in finding abundance of grass for their horses; and
now it was after great search that we were able to find a scanty patch of
grass sufficient to keep them from sinking; and in the course of a day or
two they began to suffer very much. We found none to-day at noon; and, in
the course of our search on the Platte, came to a grove of cottonwood,
where some Indian village had recently encamped. Boughs of the cottonwood
yet green covered the ground, which the Indians had cut down to feed their
horses upon. It is only in the winter that recourse is had to this means
of sustaining them; and their resort to it at this time was a striking
evidence of the state of the country. We followed their example, and
turned our horses into a grove of young poplars. This began to present
itself as a very serious evil, for on our animals depended altogether the
further prosecution of our journey.

Shortly after we had left this place, the scouts came galloping in with
the alarm of Indians. We turned in immediately towards the river, which
here had a steep, high bank, where we formed with the carts a very close
barricade, resting on the river, within which the animals were strongly
hobbled and picketed. The guns were discharged and reloaded, and men
thrown forward under cover of the bank, in the direction by which the
Indians were expected. Our interpreter, who, with the Indian, had gone to
meet them, came in, in about ten minutes, accompanied by two Sioux. They
looked sulky, and we could obtain from them only some confused
information. We learned that they belonged to the party which had been on
the trail of the emigrants, whom they had overtaken at Rock Independence,
on the Sweet Water. Here the party had disagreed, and came nigh fighting
among themselves. One portion were desirous of attacking the whites, but
the others were opposed to it; and finally they had broken up into small
bands, and dispersed over the country. The greatest portion of them had
gone over into the territory of the Crows, and intended to return by way
of the Wind River valley, in the hope of being able to fall upon some
small parties of Crow Indians. The remainder were returning down the
Platte, in scattered parties of ten and twenty; and those whom we had
encountered belonged to those who had advocated an attack on the
emigrants. Several of the men suggested shooting them on the spot; but I
promptly discountenanced any such proceeding. They further informed me
that buffalo were very scarce, and little or no grass to be found. There
had been no rain, and innumerable quantities of grasshoppers had destroyed
the grass. The insects had been so numerous since leaving Fort Laramie,
that the ground seemed alive with them; and in walking, a little moving
cloud preceded our footsteps. This was bad news. No grass, no buffalo--
food for neither horse nor man. I gave them some plugs of tobacco, and
they went off, apparently well satisfied to be clear of us; for my men did
not look upon them very lovingly, and they glanced suspiciously at our
warlike preparations, and the little ring of rifles which surrounded them.
They were evidently in a bad humor, and shot one of their horses when they
had left us a short distance.

We continued our march; and after a journey of about twenty-one miles,
encamped on the Platte. During the day, I had occasionally remarked among
the hills the _psoralea esculenta_, the bread root of the Indians.
The Sioux use this root very extensively, and I have frequently met with
it among them, cut into thin slices and dried. In the course of the
evening we were visited by six Indians, who told us that a large party was
encamped a few miles above. Astronomical observations placed us in
longitude 104 deg. 59' 59", and latitude 42 deg. 29' 25".

We made the next day twenty-two miles, and encamped on the right bank of
the Platte, where a handsome meadow afforded tolerably good grass. There
were the remains of an old fort here, thrown up in some sudden emergency,
and on the opposite side was a picturesque bluff of ferruginous sandstone.
There was a handsome grove a little above, and scattered groups of trees
bordered the river. Buffalo made their appearance this afternoon, and the
hunters came in, shortly after we had encamped, with three fine cows. The
night was fine, and observations gave for the latitude of the camp, 42 deg.
47' 40".

25th.--We made but thirteen miles this day, and encamped about noon in a
pleasant grove on the right bank. Low scaffolds were erected, upon which
the meat was laid, cut up into thin strips, and small fires kindled below.
Our object was to profit by the vicinity of the buffalo, to lay in a stock
of provisions for ten or fifteen days. In the course of the afternoon the
hunters brought in five or six cows, and all hands were kept busily
employed in preparing the meat, to the drying of which the guard attended
during the night. Our people had recovered their gayety, and the busy
figures around the blazing fires gave a picturesque air to the camp. A
very serious accident occurred this morning, in the breaking of one of the
barometers. These had been the object of my constant solicitude, and, as I
had intended them principally for mountain service, I had used them as
seldom as possible, taking them always down at night, and on the
occurrence of storms, in order to lessen the chances of being broken. I
was reduced to one, a standard barometer of Troughton's construction. This
I determined to preserve, if possible. The latitude is 42 deg. 51' 35", and by
a mean of the results from chronometer and lunar distances, the adopted
longitude of this camp is 105 deg. 50' 45".

26th.--Early this morning we were again in motion. We had a stock of
provisions for fifteen days carefully stored away in the carts, and this I
resolved should only be encroached upon when our rifles should fail to
procure us present support. I determined to reach the mountains, if it
were in any way possible. In the mean time, buffalo were plenty. In six
miles from our encampment (which, by way of distinction, we shall call
Dried Meat camp) we crossed a handsome stream, called _La Fourche
Boisce_. It is well timbered, and, among the flowers in bloom on its
banks, I remarked several _asters_.

Five miles further, we made our noon halt on the banks of the Platte, in
the shade of some cottonwoods. There were here, as generally now along the
river, thickets of _hippophae_, the _grains de boeuf_ of the
country. They were of two kinds--one bearing a red berry, (the
_shepherdia argentea_ of Nuttall;) the other a yellow berry, of which
the Tartars are said to make a kind of rob.

By a meridian observation, the latitude of the place was 42 deg. 50' 08". It
was my daily practice to take observations of the sun's meridian altitude;
and why they are not given, will appear in the sequel. Eight miles further
we reached the mouth of Deer creek, where we encamped. Here was abundance
of rich grass, and our animals were compensated for past privations. This
stream was at this time twenty feet broad, and well timbered with
cottonwood of an uncommon size. It is the largest tributary of the Platte,
between the mouth of the Sweet Water and the Laramie. Our astronomical
observations gave for the mouth of the stream a longitude of 106 deg. 08' 24",
and latitude 42 deg. 52' 24".

27th.--Nothing worthy of mention occurred on this day; we traveled later
than usual, having spent some time searching for grass, crossing and
recrossing the river before we could find a sufficient quantity for our
animals. Towards dusk we encamped among some artemisia bushes, two and
three feet in height, where some scattered patches of short tough grass
afforded a scanty supply. In crossing, we had occasion to observe that the
river was frequently too deep to be forded, though we always succeeded in
finding a place where the water did not enter the carts. The stream
continued very clear, with two or three hundred feet breadth of water, and
the sandy bed and banks were frequently covered with large round pebbles.
We had traveled this day twenty-seven miles. The main chain of the Black
hills was here only about seven miles to the south, on the right bank of
the river, rising abruptly to the height of eight and twelve hundred feet.
Patches of green grass in the ravines on the steep sides marked the
presence of springs, and the summits were clad with pines.

28th.--In two miles from our encampment, we reached the place where the
regular road crosses the Platte. There was two hundred feet breadth of
water at this time in the bed, which has a variable width of eight to
fifteen hundred feet. The channels were generally three feet deep, and
there were large angular rocks on the bottom, which made the ford in some
places a little difficult. Even at its low stages, this river cannot be
crossed at random, and this has always been used as the best ford. The low
stage of the water the present year had made it fordable in almost any
part of its course, where access could be had to its bed.

For the satisfaction of travelers, I will endeavor to give some
description of the nature of the road from Laramie to this point. The
nature of the soil may be inferred from its geological formation. The
limestone at the eastern limit of this section is succeeded by limestone
without fossils, a great variety of sandstone, consisting principally of
red sandstone and fine conglomerates. The red sandstone is argillaceous,
with compact white gypsum or alabaster, very beautiful. The other
sandstones are gray, yellow, and ferruginous, sometimes very coarse. The
apparent sterility of the country must therefore be sought for in other
causes than the nature of the soil. The face of the country cannot with
propriety be called hilly. It is a succession of long ridges, made by the
numerous streams which come down from the neighboring mountain range. The
ridges have an undulating surface, with some such appearance as the ocean
presents in an ordinary breeze.

The road which is now generally followed through this region is therefore
a very good one, without any difficult ascents to overcome. The principal
obstructions are near the river, where the transient waters of heavy rains
have made deep ravines with steep banks, which renders frequent circuits
necessary. It will be remembered that wagons pass this road only once or
twice a year, which is by no means sufficient to break down the stubborn
roots of the innumerable artemisia bushes. A partial absence of these is
often the only indication of the track; and the roughness produced by
their roots in many places gives the road the character of one newly
opened in a wooded country. This is usually considered the worst part of
the road east of the mountains; and, as it passes through an open prairie
region, may be much improved, so as to avoid the greater part of the
inequalities it now presents.

From the mouth of the Kansas to the Green River valley west of the
mountains, there is no such thing as a mountain road on the line of
communication.

We continued our way, and four miles beyond the ford Indians were
discovered again; and I halted while a party were sent forward to
ascertain who they were. In a short time they returned, accompanied by a
number of Indians of the Oglallah band of Sioux. From them we received
some interesting information. They had formed part of the great village,
which they informed us had broken up, and was on its way home. The greater
part of the village, including the Arapahoes, Cheyennes, and Oglallahs,
had crossed the Platte eight or ten miles below the mouth of the Sweet
Water, and were now behind the mountains to the south of us, intending to
regain the Platte by way of Deer creek. They had taken this unusual route
in search of grass and game. They gave us a very discouraging picture of
the country. The great drought, and the plague of grasshoppers, had swept
it so that scarce a blade of grass was to be seen, and there was not a
buffalo to be found in the whole region. Their people, they further said,
had been nearly starved to death, and we would find their road marked by
lodges, which they had thrown away in order to move more rapidly, and by
the carcasses of the horses which they had eaten, or which had perished by
starvation. Such was the prospect before us.

When he had finished the interpretation of these things, Mr. Bissonette
immediately rode up to me, and urgently advised that I should entirely
abandon the further prosecution of my exploration. "_Le meilleure avis
que je pourrais vous donner c'est de virer de suite_." "The best advice
I can give you, is to turn back at once." It was his own intention to
return, as we had now reached the point to which he had engaged to attend
me. In reply, I called up my men, and communicated to them fully the
information I had just received. I then expressed to them my fixed
determination to proceed to the end of the enterprise on which I had been
sent; but as the situation of the country gave me some reason to apprehend
that it might be attended with an unfortunate result to some of us, I
would leave it optional with them to continue with me or to return.

Among them were some five or six who I knew would remain. We had still ten
days' provisions; and should no game be found, when this stock was
expended, we had our horses and mules, which we could eat when other means
of subsistence failed. But not a man flinched from the undertaking. "We'll
eat the mules," said Basil Lajeunesse; and thereupon we shook hands with
our interpreter and his Indians, and parted. With them I sent back one of
my men, Dumes, whom the effects of an old wound in the leg rendered
incapable of continuing the journey on foot, and his horse seemed on the
point of giving out. Having resolved to disencumber ourselves immediately
of every thing not absolutely necessary to our future operations, I turned
directly in towards the river, and encamped on the left bank, a little
above the place where our council had been held, and where a thick grove
of willows offered a suitable spot for the object I had in view.

The carts having been discharged, the covers and wheels were taken off,
and, with the frames, carried into some low places, among the willows, and
concealed in the dense foliage in such a manner that the glitter of the
iron-work might not attract the observation of some straggling Indian. In
the sand, which had been blown up into waves among the willows, a large
hole was then dug, ten feet square and six feet deep. In the mean time,
all our effects had been spread out upon the ground, and whatever was
designed to be carried along with us separated and laid aside, and the
remaining part carried to the hole and carefully covered up. As much as
possible, all traces of our proceedings were obliterated, and it wanted
but a rain to render our _cache_ safe beyond discovery. All the men
were now set at work to arrange the pack-saddles and make up the packs.

The day was very warm and calm, and the sky entirely clear, except where,
as usual along the summits of the mountainous ridge opposite, the clouds
had congregated in masses. Our lodge had been planted, and, on account of
the heat, the ground-pins had been taken out, and the lower part slightly
raised. Near to it was standing the barometer, which swung in a tripod
frame; and within the lodge, where a small fire had been built, Mr. Preuss
was occupied in observing temperature of boiling water. At this instant,
and without any warning until it was within fifty yards, a violent gust of
wind dashed down the lodge, burying under it Mr. Preuss and about a dozen
men, who had attempted to keep it from being carried away. I succeeded in
saving the barometer, which the lodge was carrying off with itself, but
the thermometer was broken. We had no others of a high graduation, none of
those which remained going higher than 135 deg. Fahrenheit. Our astronomical
observations gave to this place, which we named _Cache_ camp, a
longitude of 106 deg. 38' 26", latitude 42 deg. 50' 53".

29th.--All our arrangements having been completed, we left the encampment
at 7 o'clock this morning. In this vicinity the ordinary road leaves the
Platte, and crosses over to the Sweet Water river, which it strikes near
Rock Independence. Instead of following this road, I had determined to
keep the immediate valley of the Platte so far as the mouth of the Sweet
Water, in the expectation of finding better grass. To this I was further
prompted by the nature of my instructions. To Mr. Carson was assigned the
office of guide, as we had now reached a part of the country with which,
or a great part of which, long residence had made him familiar. In a few
miles we reached the Red Buttes, a famous landmark in this country, whose
geological composition is red sandstone, limestone, and calcareous
sandstone and pudding-stone.

The river here cuts its way through a ridge; on the eastern side of it are
the lofty escarpments of red argillaceous sandstone, which are called the
Red Buttes. In this passage the stream is not much compressed or pent up,
there being a bank of considerable though variable breadth on either side.
Immediately on entering, we discovered a band of buffalo. The hunters
failed to kill any of them; the leading hunter being thrown into a ravine,
which occasioned some delay, and in the mean time the herd clambered up
the steep face of the ridge. It is sometimes wonderful to see these
apparently clumsy animals make their way up and down the most broken
precipices. We halted to noon before we had cleared this passage, at a
spot twelve miles distant from _Cache_ camp, where we found an
abundance of grass. So far, the account of the Indians was found to be
false. On the banks were willow and cherry trees. The cherries were not
yet ripe, but in the thickets were numerous fresh tracks of the grizzly
bear, which are very fond of this fruit. The soil here is red, the
composition being derived from the red sandstone. About seven miles
brought us through the ridge, in which the course of the river is north
and south. Here the valley opens out broadly, and high walls of the red
formation present themselves among the hills to the east. We crossed here
a pretty little creek, an affluent of the right bank. It is well timbered
with cottonwood in this vicinity, and the absinthe has lost its shrub-like
character, and becomes small trees six and eight feet in height, and
sometimes eight inches in diameter. Two or three miles above this creek we
made our encampment, having traveled to-day twenty-five miles. Our animals
fared well here, as there is an abundance of grass. The river bed is made
up of pebbles, and in the bank, at the level of the water, is a
conglomerate of coarse pebbles, about the size of ostrich eggs, and which
I remarked in the banks of the Laramie fork. It is overlaid by a soil of
mixed clay and sand, six feet thick. By astronomical observations, our
position is in longitude 106 deg. 54' 32", and latitude 42 deg. 38'.

30th.--After traveling about twelve miles this morning, we reached a place
where the Indian village had crossed the river. Here were the poles of
discarded lodges and skeletons of horses lying about. Mr. Carson, who had
never been higher up than this point on the river, which has the character
of being exceedingly rugged, and walled in by precipices above, thought it
advisable to encamp near this place, where we were certain of obtaining
grass, and to-morrow make our crossing among the rugged hills to the Sweet
Water river. Accordingly we turned back and descended the river to an
island near by, which was about twenty acres in size, covered with a
luxuriant growth of grass. The formation here I found highly interesting.
Immediately at this island the river is again shut up in the rugged hills,
which come down to it from the main ridge in a succession of spurs three
or four hundred feet high, and alternated with green level
_prairillons_ or meadows, bordered on the river banks with thickets
of willow, and having many plants to interest the traveler. The island
lies between two of these ridges, three or four hundred yards apart, of
which that on the right bank is composed entirely of red argillaceous
sandstone, with thin layers of fibrous gypsum. On the left bank, the ridge
is composed entirely of silicious pudding-stone, the pebbles in the
numerous strata increasing in size from the top to the bottom, where they
are as large as a man's head. So far as I was able to determine, these
strata incline to the northeast, with a dip of about 15 deg.. This pudding-
stone, or conglomerate formation, I was enabled to trace through an
extended range of country, from a few miles east of the meridian of Fort
Laramie to where I found it superposed on the granite of the Rocky
mountains, in longitude 109 deg. 00'. From its appearance, the main chain of
the Laramie mountain is composed of this rock; and in a number of places I
found isolated hills, which served to mark a former level which had been
probably swept away.

These conglomerates are very friable, and easily decomposed; and I am
inclined to think this formation is the source from which was derived the
great deposite of sand and gravel which forms the surface rock of the
prairie country west of the Mississippi.

Crossing the ridge of red sandstone, and traversing the little prairie
which lies to the southward of it, we made in the afternoon an excursion
to a place which we called the Hot Spring Gate. This place has much the
appearance of a gate, by which the Platte passes through a ridge composed
of a white and calcareous sandstone. The length of the passage is about
four hundred yards, with a smooth green prairie on either side. Through
this place, the stream flows with a quiet current, unbroken by any rapid,
and is about seventy yards wide between the walls, which rise
perpendicularly from the water. To that on the right bank, which is the
lower, the barometer gave a height of three hundred and sixty feet. This
place will be more particularly described hereafter, as we passed through
it on our return.

We saw here numerous herds of mountain sheep, and frequently heard the
volley of rattling stones which accompanied their rapid descent down the
steep hills. This was the first place at which we had killed any of these
animals; and, in consequence of this circumstance, and of the abundance of
these sheep or goats, (for they are called by each name,) we gave our
encampment the name of Goat Island. Their flesh is much esteemed by the
hunters, and has very much the flavor of Alleghany mountain sheep. I have
frequently seen the horns of this animal three feet long and seventeen
inches in circumference at the base, weighing eleven pounds. But two or
three of these were killed by our party at this place, and of these the
horns were small. The use of these horns seems to be to protect the
animal's head in pitching down precipices to avoid pursuing wolves--their
only safety being in places where they cannot be followed. The bones are
very strong and solid, the marrow occupying but a very small portion of
the bone in the leg, about the thickness of a rye straw. The hair is
short, resembling the winter color of our common deer, which it nearly
approaches in size and appearance. Except in the horns, it has no
resemblance whatever to the goat. The longitude of this place, resulting
from chronometer and lunar distances, and an occultation of Arietis, is
107 deg. 13' 29", and the latitude 42 deg. 33' 27". One of our horses, which had
given out, we left to receive strength on the island, intending to take
her, perhaps, on our return.

31st.--This morning we left the course of the Platte, to cross over to the
Sweet Water. Our way, for a few miles, lay up the sandy bed of a dry
creek, in which I found several interesting plants. Leaving this, we
wended our way to the summit of the hills, of which the peaks are here
eight hundred feet above the Platte, bare and rocky. A long and gradual
slope led from these hills to the Sweet Water, which we reached in fifteen
miles from Goat Island. I made an early encampment here, in order to give
the hunters an opportunity to procure a supply from several bands of
buffalo, which made their appearance in the valley near by. The stream is
about sixty feet wide, and at this time twelve to eighteen inches deep,
with a very moderate current.

The adjoining prairies are sandy, but the immediate river bottom is a good
soil, which afforded an abundance of soft green grass to our horses, and
where I found a variety of interesting plants, which made their appearance
for the first time. A rain to-night made it unpleasantly cold; and there
was no tree here, to enable us to pitch our single tent, the poles of
which had been left at our _Cache camp_. We had, therefore, no
shelter except what was to be found under cover of the _absinthe_
bushes, which grew in many thick patches, one or two and sometimes three
feet high.



AUGUST.


1st.--The hunters went ahead this morning, as buffalo appeared tolerably
abundant, and I was desirous to secure a small stock of provisions; and we
moved about seven mules up the valley, and encamped one mile below Rock
Independence. This is an isolated granite rock, about six hundred and
fifty yards long, and forty in height. Except in a depression of the
summit, where a little soil supports a scanty growth of shrubs, with a
solitary dwarf pine, it is entirely bare. Everywhere within six or eight
feet of the ground, where the surface is sufficiently smooth, and in some
places sixty or eighty feet above, the rock is inscribed with the names of
travelers. Many a name famous in the history of this country, and some
well known to science, are to be found mixed among those of the traders
and travelers for pleasure and curiosity, and of missionaries among the
savages. Some of these have been washed away by the rain, but the greater
number are still very legible. The position of this rock is in longitude
107 deg. 56', latitude 42 deg. 29' 36". We remained at our camp of August 1st
until noon of the next day, occupied in drying meat. By observation, the
longitude of the place is 107 deg. 25' 23", latitude 42 deg. 29' 56".

2d.--Five miles above Rock Independence we came to a place called the
Devil's Gate, where the Sweet Water cuts through the point of a granite
ridge. The length of the passage is about three hundred yards, and the
width thirty-five yards. The walls of rock are vertical, and about four
hundred feet in height; and the stream in the gate is almost entirely
choked up by masses which have fallen from above. In the wall, on the
right bank, is a dike of trap-rock, cutting through a fine-grained gray
granite. Near the point of this ridge crop out some strata of the valley
formation, consisting of a grayish micaceous sandstone, and fine-grained
conglomerate, and marl. We encamped eight miles above the Devil's Gate.
There was no timber of any kind on the river, but good fires were made of
drift wood, aided by the _bois de vache_.

We had to-night no shelter from the rain, which commenced with squalls of
wind about sunset. The country here is exceedingly picturesque. On either
side of the valley, which is five miles broad, the mountains rise to the
height of twelve and fifteen hundred or two thousand feet. On the south
side, the range appears to be timbered, and to-night is luminous with
fires--probably the work of the Indians, who have just passed through the
valley. On the north, broken and granite masses rise abruptly from the
green sward of the river, terminating in a line of broken summits. Except
in the crevices of the rock, and here and there on a ledge or bench of the
mountain, where a few hardy pines have clustered together, these are
perfectly bare and destitute of vegetation.

Among these masses, where there are sometimes isolated hills and ridges,
green valleys open in upon the river, which sweeps the base of these
mountains for thirty-six miles. Everywhere its deep verdure and profusion
of beautiful flowers is in pleasing contrast with the sterile grandeur of
the rock and the barrenness of the sandy plain, which, from the right bank
of the river, sweeps up to the mountain range that forms its southern
boundary. The great evaporation on the sandy soil of this elevated plain,
and the saline efflorescences which whiten the ground, and shine like
lakes reflecting in the sun, make a soil wholly unfit for cultivation.

3d.--We were early on the road the next morning, traveling along the upper
part of the valley, which is overgrown with _artemisia_. Scattered
about on the plain are occasional small isolated hills. One of these which
I have examined, about fifty feet high, consisted of white clay and marl,
in nearly horizontal strata. Several bands of buffalo made their
appearance to-day, with herds of antelope; and a grizzly bear--the only
one we encountered during the journey--was seen scrambling up among the
rocks. As we passed over a slight rise near the river, we caught the first
view of the Wind River mountains, appearing, at this distance of about
seventy miles, to be a low and dark mountainous ridge. The view dissipated
in a moment the pictures which had been created in our minds, by many
descriptions of travelers, who have compared these mountains to the Alps
in Switzerland, and speak of the glittering peaks which rise in icy
majesty amidst the eternal glaciers nine or ten thousand feet into the
region of eternal snows. The nakedness of the river was relieved by groves
of willows, where we encamped at night, after a march of twenty-six miles;
and numerous bright-colored flowers had made the river bottom look gay as
a garden. We found here a horse, which had been abandoned by the Indians,
because his hoofs had been so much worn that he was unable to travel; and
during the night a dog came into the camp.

4th.--Our camp was at the foot of the granite mountains, which we climbed
this morning to take some barometrical heights; and here among the rocks
was seen the first magpie. On our return, we saw one at the mouth of the
Platte river. We left here one of our horses, which was unable to proceed
farther. A few miles from the encampment we left the river, which makes a
bend to the south, and traversing an undulating country, consisting of a
grayish micaceous sandstone and fine-grained conglomerates, struck it
again, and encamped after a journey of twenty-five miles. Astronomical
observations placed us in latitude 42 deg. 32' 30", and longitude 108 deg. 30'
13".

5th.--The morning was dark, with a driving rain, and disagreeably cold. We
continued our route as usual  and the weather became so bad, that we were
glad to avail ourselves of the shelter offered by a small island, about
ten miles above our last encampment, which was covered with a dense growth
of willows. There was fine grass for our animals, and the timber afforded
us comfortable protection and good fires. In the afternoon, the sun broke
through the clouds for a short time, and the barometer at 5 P.M. was
23.713, the thermometer 60 deg., with the wind strong from the northwest. We
availed ourselves of the fine weather to make excursions in the
neighborhood. The river, at this place, is bordered by hills of the valley
formation. They are of moderate height; one of the highest peaks on the
right bank being, according to the barometer, one hundred and eighty feet
above the river. On the left bank they are higher. They consist of a fine
white clayey sandstone, a white calcareous sandstone, and coarse sandstone
or pudding-stone.

6th.--It continued steadily raining all day; but, notwithstanding, we left
our encampment in the afternoon. Our animals had been much refreshed by
their repose, and an abundance of rich, soft grass, which had been much
improved by the rains. In about three miles, we reached the entrance of a
_kanyon_, where the Sweet Water issues upon the more open valley we
had passed over. Immediately at the entrance, and superimposed directly
upon the granite, are strata of compact calcareous sandstone and chert,
alternating with fine white and reddish-white, and fine gray and red
sandstones. These strata dip to the eastward at an angle of about 18 deg., and
form the western limit of the sandstone and limestone formations on the
line of our route. Here we entered among the primitive rocks. The usual
road passes to the right of this place; but we wound, or rather scrambled,
our way up the narrow valley for several hours. Wildness and disorder were
the character of this scenery. The river had been swollen by the late
rains, and came rushing through with an impetuous current, three or four
feet deep, and generally twenty yards broad. The valley was sometimes the
breadth of the stream, and sometimes opened into little green meadows,
sixty yards wide, with open groves of aspen. The stream was bordered
throughout with aspen, beech, and willow; and tall pines grow on the sides
and summits of the crags. On both sides the granite rocks rose
precipitously to the height of three hundred and five hundred feet,
terminating in jagged and broken pointed peaks; and fragments of fallen
rock lay piled up at the foot of the precipices. Gneiss, mica slate, and a
white granite, were among the varieties I noticed. Here were many old
traces of beaver on the stream; remnants of dams, near which were lying
trees, which they had cut down, one and two feet in diameter. The hills
entirely shut up the river at the end of about five miles, and we turned
up a ravine that led to a high prairie, which seemed to be the general
level of the country. Hence, to the summit of the ridge, there is a
regular and very gradual rise. Blocks of granite were piled up at the
heads of the ravines, and small bare knolls of mica slate and milky quartz
protruded at frequent intervals on the prairie, which was whitened in
occasional spots with small salt lakes, where the water had evaporated,
and left the bed covered with a shining incrustation of salt. The evening
was very cold, a northwest wind driving a fine rain in our faces; and at
nightfall we descended to a little stream, on which we encamped, about two
miles from the Sweet Water. Here had recently been a very large camp of
the Snake and Crow Indians; and some large poles lying about afforded the
means of pitching a tent, and making other places of shelter. Our fires
to-night were made principally of the dry branches of the artemisia, which
covered the slopes. It burns quickly, and with a clear oily flame, and
makes a hot fire. The hills here are composed of hard, compact mica slate,
with veins of quartz.

7th.--We left our encampment with the rising sun. As we rose from the bed
of the creek, the _snow_ line of the mountains stretched gradually
before us, the white peaks glittering in the sun. They had been hidden in
the dark weather of the last few days, and it had been _snowing_ on
them, while it _rained_ in the plains. We crossed a ridge, and again
struck the Sweet Water--here a beautiful, swift stream, with a more open
valley, timbered with beech and cottonwood. It now began to lose itself in
the many small forks which make its head; and we continued up the main
stream until near noon, when we left it a few miles, to make our noon halt
on a small creek among the hills, from which the stream issues by a small
opening. Within was a beautiful grassy spot, covered with an open grove of
large beech-trees, among which I found several plants that I had not
previously seen.

The afternoon was cloudy, with squalls of rain; but the weather became
fine at sunset, when we again encamped on the Sweet Water, within a few
miles of the SOUTH PASS. The country over which we have passed to-day
consists principally of the compact mica slate, which crops out on all
ridges, making the uplands very rocky and slaty. In the escarpments which
border the creeks, it is seen alternating with a light-colored granite, at
an inclination of 45 deg.; the beds varying in thickness from two or three
feet to six or eight hundred. At a distance, the granite frequently has
the appearance of irregular lumps of clay, hardened by exposure. A variety
of _asters_ may how be numbered among the characteristic plants, and
the artemisia continues in full glory; but _cacti_ have become rare,
and mosses begin to dispute the hills with them. The evening was damp and
unpleasant--the thermometer, at ten o'clock, being at 36 deg., and the grass
wet with a heavy dew. Our astronomical observations placed this encampment
in longitude 109 deg. 21' 32", and latitude 42 deg. 27' 15".

Early in the morning we resumed our journey, the weather, still cloudy,
with occasional rain. Our general course was west, as I had determined to
cross the dividing ridge by a bridle-path among the country more
immediately at the foot of the mountains, and return by the wagon road,
two and a half miles to the south of the point where the trail crosses.

About six miles from our encampment brought us to the summit. The ascent
had been so gradual, that, with all the intimate knowledge possessed by
Carson, who had made the country his home for seventeen years, we were
obliged to watch very closely to find the place at which we had reached
the culminating point. This was between two low hills, rising on either
hand fifty or sixty feet. When I looked back at them, from the foot of the
immediate slope on the western plain, their summits appeared to be about
one hundred and twenty feet above. From the impression on my mind at this
time, and subsequently on our return, I should compare the elevation which
we surmounted immediately at the Pass, to the ascent of the Capitol hill
from the avenue, at Washington. It is difficult for me to fix positively
the breadth of this Pass. From the broken ground where it commences, at
the foot of the Wind River chain, the view to the southeast is over a
champaign country, broken, at the distance of nineteen miles, by the Table
rock; which, with the other isolated hills in its vicinity, seem to stand
on a comparative plain. This I judged to be its termination, the ridge
recovering its rugged character with the Table rock. It will be seen that
it in no manner resembles the places to which the term is commonly
applied--nothing of the gorge-like character and winding ascents of the
Alleghany passes in America; nothing of the Great St. Bernard and Simplon
passes in Europe. Approaching it from the mouth of the Sweet Water, a
sandy plain, one hundred and twenty miles long, conducts, by a gradual and
regular ascent, to the summit, about seven thousand feet above the sea;
and the traveler, without being reminded of any change by toilsome
ascents, suddenly finds himself on the waters which flow to the Pacific
ocean. By the route we had traveled, the distance from Fort Laramie is
three hundred and twenty miles, or nine hundred and fifty from the mouth
of the Kansas.

Continuing our march, we reached, in eight miles from the Pass, the Little
Sandy, one of the tributaries of the Colorado, or Green river of the Gulf
of California. The weather had grown fine during the morning, and we
remained here the rest of the day, to dry our baggage and take some
astronomical observations. The stream was about forty feet wide, and two
or three deep, with clear water and a full swift current, over a sandy
bed. It was timbered with a growth of low bushy and dense willows, among
which were little verdant spots, which gave our animals fine grass, and
where I found a number of interesting plants. Among the neighboring hills
I noticed fragments of granite containing magnetic iron. Longitude of the
camp was 109 deg. 37' 59", and latitude 42 deg. 27' 34".

9th.--We made our noon halt on Big Sandy, another tributary of Green
river. The face of the country traversed was of a brown sand of granite
materials, the _detritus_ of the neighboring mountain. Strata of the
milky quartz cropped out, and blocks of granite were scattered about,
containing magnetic iron. On Sandy creek the formation was of parti-
colored sand, exhibited in escarpments fifty to eighty feet high. In the
afternoon we had a severe storm of hail, and encamped at sunset on the
first New Fork. Within the space of a few miles, the Wind mountains supply
a number of tributaries to Green river, which are called the New Forks.
Near our camp were two remarkable isolated hills, one of them sufficiently
large to merit the name of mountain. They are called the Two Buttes, and
will serve to identify the place of our encampment, which the observations
of the evening placed in longitude 109 deg. 58' 11", and latitude 42 deg. 42' 46".
On the right bank of the stream, opposite to the large hill, the strata
which are displayed consist of decomposing granite, which supplies the
brown sand of which the face of the country is composed to a considerable
depth.

10th.--The air at sunrise is clear and pure, and the morning extremely
cold, but beautiful. A lofty snowy peak of the mountain is glittering in
the first rays of the sun, which have not yet reached us. The long
mountain wall to the east, rising two thousand feet abruptly from the
plain, behind which we see the peaks, is still dark, and cuts clear
against the glowing sky. A fog, just risen from the river, lies along the
base of the mountain. A little before sunrise, the thermometer was at 35 deg.,
and at sunrise 33 deg.. Water froze last night, and fires are very
comfortable. The scenery becomes hourly more interesting and grand, and
the view here is truly magnificent; but, indeed, it needs something to
repay the long prairie journey of a thousand miles. The sun has shot above
the wall, and makes a magical change. The whole valley is glowing and
bright, and all the mountain peaks are gleaming like silver. Though these
snow mountains are not the Alps, they have their own character of grandeur
and magnificence, and doubtless will find pens and pencils to do them
justice. In the scene before us, we feel how much wood improves a view.
The pines on the mountain seemed to give it much additional beauty. I was
agreeably disappointed in the character of the streams on this side of the
ridge. Instead of the creeks, which description had led me to expect, I
find bold, broad streams, with three or four feet water, and a rapid
current. The fork on which we are encamped is upwards of a hundred feet
wide, timbered with groves or thickets of the low willow. We were now
approaching the loftiest part of the Wind River chain; and I left the
valley a few miles from our encampment, intending to penetrate the
mountains as far as possible with the whole party. We were soon involved
in very broken ground, among long ridges covered with fragments of
granite. Winding our way up a long ravine, we came unexpectedly in view of
a most beautiful lake, set like a gem in the mountains. The sheet of water
lay transversely across the direction we had been pursuing; and,
descending the steep, rocky ridge, where it was necessary to lead our
horses, we followed its banks to the southern extremity. Here a view of
the utmost magnificence and grandeur burst upon our eyes. With nothing
between us and their feet to lessen the effect of the whole height, a
grand bed of snow-capped mountains rose before us, pile upon pile, glowing
in the bright light of an August day. Immediately below them lay the lake,
between two ridges, covered with dark pines, which swept down from the
main chain to the spot where we stood. Here, where the lake glittered in
the open sunlight, its banks of yellow sand and the light foliage of aspen
groves contrasted well with the gloomy pines. "Never before," said Mr.
Preuss, "in this country or in Europe, have I seen such grand, magnificent
rocks." I was so much pleased with the beauty of the place, that I
determined to make the main camp here, where our animals would find good
pasturage, and explore the mountains with a small party of men. Proceeding
a little further, we came suddenly upon the outlet of the lake, where it
found its way through a narrow passage between low hills. Dark pines which
overhung the stream, and masses of rock, where the water foamed along,
gave it much romantic beauty. Where we crossed, which was immediately at
the outlet, it is two hundred and fifty feet wide, and so deep that with
difficulty we were able to ford it. Its bed was an accumulation of rocks,
boulders, and broad slabs, and large angular fragments, among which the
animals fell repeatedly.

The current was very swift, and the water cold, and of a crystal purity.
In crossing this stream, I met with a great misfortune in having my
barometer broken. It was the only one. A great part of the interest of the
journey for me was in the exploration of these mountains, of which so much
had been said that was doubtful and contradictory; and now their snowy
peaks rose majestically before me, and the only means of giving them
authentically to science, the object of my anxious solicitude by night and
day, was destroyed. We had brought this barometer in safety a thousand
miles, and broke it almost among the snow of the mountains. The loss was
felt by the whole camp--all had seen my anxiety, and aided me in
preserving it. The height of these mountains, considered by many hunters
and traders the highest in the whole range, had been a theme of constant
discussion among them; and all had looked forward with pleasure to the
moment when the instrument, which they believed to be as true as the sun,
should stand upon the summits, and decide their disputes. Their grief was
only inferior to my own.

The lake is about three miles long, and of very irregular width, and
apparently great depth, and is the head-water of the third New Fork, a
tributary to Green river, the Colorado of the west. In the narrative I
have called it Mountain lake. I encamped on the north side, about three
hundred and fifty yards from the outlet. This was the most western point
at which I obtained astronomical observations, by which this place, called
Bernier's encampment, is made in 110 deg. 08' 03" west longitude from
Greenwich, and latitude 43 deg. 49' 49". The mountain peaks, as laid down,
were fixed by bearings from this and other astronomical points. We had no
other compass than the small ones used in sketching the country; but from
an azimuth, in which one of them was used, the variation of the compass is
18 deg. east. The correction made in our field-work by the astronomical
observations indicates that this is a very correct observation.

As soon as the camp was formed, I set about endeavoring to repair my
barometer. As I have already said, this was a standard cistern barometer,
of Troughton's construction. The glass cistern had been broken about
midway; but as the instrument had been kept in a proper position, no air
had found its way into the tube, the end of which had always remained
covered. I had with me a number of vials of tolerably thick glass, some of
which were of the same diameter as the cistern, end I spent the day in
slowly working on these, endeavoring to cut them of the requisite length;
but, as my instrument was a very rough file, I invariably broke them. A
groove was cut in one of the trees, where the barometer was placed during
the night, to be out of the way of any possible danger, and in the morning
I commenced again. Among the powder-horns in the camp, I found one which
was very transparent, so that its contents could be almost as plainly seen
as through glass. This I boiled and stretched on a piece of wood to the
requisite diameter, and scraped it very thin, in order to increase to the
utmost its transparency. I then secured it firmly in its place on the
instrument, with strong glue made from a buffalo, and filled it with
mercury, properly heated. A piece of skin, which had covered one of the
vials, furnished a good pocket, which was well secured with strong thread
and glue, and then the brass cover was screwed to its place. The
instrument was left some time to dry; and when I reversed it, a few hours
after, I had the satisfaction to find it in perfect order; its indications
being about the same as on the other side of the lake before it had been
broken. Our success in this little incident diffused pleasure throughout
the camp; and we immediately set about our preparations for ascending the
mountains.

As will be seen on reference to a map, on this short mountain chain are
the head-waters of four great rivers on the continent, namely: the
Colorado, Columbia, Missouri, and Platte rivers. It had been my design,
after ascending the mountains, to continue our route on the western side
of the range, and crossing through a pass at the northwestern end of the
chain, about thirty miles from our present camp, return along the eastern
slope, across the heads of the Yellowstone river, and join on the line to
our station of August 7, immediately at the foot of the ridge. In this
way, I should be enabled to include the whole chain, and its numerous
waters, in my survey; but various considerations induced me, very
reluctantly, to abandon this plan.

I was desirous to keep strictly within the scope of my instructions, and
it would have required ten or fifteen additional days for the
accomplishment of this object; our animals had become very much worn out
with the length of the journey; game was very scarce; and, though it does
not appear in the course of the narrative, (as I have avoided dwelling
upon trifling incidents not connected with the objects of the expedition,)
the spirits of the men had been much exhausted by the hardships and
privations to which they had been subjected. Our provisions had wellnigh
all disappeared. Bread had been long out of the question; and of all our
stock, we had remaining two or three pounds of coffee, and a small
quantity of macaroni, which had been husbanded with great care for the
mountain expedition we were about to undertake. Our daily meal consisted
of dry buffalo meat, cooked in tallow; and, as we had not dried this with
Indian skill, part of it was spoiled; and what remained of good, was as
hard as wood, having much the taste and appearance of so many pieces of
bark. Even of this, our stock was rapidly diminishing in a camp which was
capable of consuming two buffaloes in every twenty-four hours. These
animals had entirely disappeared; and it was not probable that we should
fall in with them again until we returned to the Sweet Water.

Our arrangements for the ascent were rapidly completed. We were in a
hostile country, which rendered the greatest vigilance and circumspection
necessary. The pass at the north end of the mountain was greatly infested
by Blackfeet, and immediately opposite was one of their forts, on the edge
of a little thicket, two or three hundred feet from our encampment. We
were posted in a grove of beech, on the margin of the lake, and a few
hundred feet long, with a narrow _prairillon_ on the inner side,
bordered by the rocky ridge. In the upper end of this grove we cleared a
circular space about forty feet in diameter, and, with the felled timber,
and interwoven branches, surrounded it with a breastwork five feet in
height. A gap was left for a gate on the inner side, by which the animals
were to be driven in and secured, while the men slept around the little
work. It was half hidden by the foliage, and garrisoned by twelve resolute
men, would have set at defiance any band of savages which might chance to
discover them in the interval of our absence. Fifteen of the best mules,
with fourteen men, were selected for the mountain party. Our provisions
consisted of dried meat for two days, with our little stock of coffee and
some macaroni. In addition to the barometer and thermometer, I took with
me a sextant and spyglass, and we had of course our compasses. In charge
of the camp I left Bernier, one of my most trustworthy men, who possessed
the most determined courage.

12th.--Early in the morning we left the camp, fifteen in number, well
armed, of course, and mounted on our best mules. A pack-animal carried our
provisions, with a coffeepot and kettle, and three or four tin cups. Every
man had a blanket strapped over his saddle, to serve for his bed, and the
instruments were carried by turns on their backs. We entered directly on
rough and rocky ground; and, just after crossing the ridge, had the good
fortune to shoot an antelope. We heard the roar, and had a glimpse of a
waterfall as we rode along, and, crossing in our way two fine streams,
tributary to the Colorado, in about two hours' ride we reached the top of
the first row or range of the mountains. Here, again, a view of the most
romantic beauty met our eyes. It seemed as if, from the vast expanse of
uninteresting prairie we had passed over, Nature had collected all her
beauties together in one chosen place. We were overlooking a deep valley,
which was entirely occupied by three lakes, and from the brink to the
surrounding ridges rose precipitously five hundred and a thousand feet,
covered with the dark green of the balsam pine, relieved on the border of
the lake with the light foliage of the aspen. They all communicated with
each other, and the green of the waters, common to mountain lakes of great
depth, showed that it would be impossible to cross them. The surprise
manifested by our guides when these impassable obstacles suddenly barred
our progress, proved that they were among the hidden treasures of the
place, unknown even to the wandering trappers of the region. Descending
the hill, we proceeded to make our way along the margin to the southern
extremity. A narrow strip of angular fragments of rock sometimes afforded
a rough pathway for our mules, but generally we rode along the shelving
side, occasionally scrambling up, at a considerable risk of tumbling back
into the lake.

The slope was frequently 60 deg.; the pines grew densely together and the
ground was covered with the branches and trunks of trees. The air was
fragrant with the odor of the pines; and I realized this delightful
morning the pleasure of breathing that mountain air which makes a constant
theme of the hunter's praise, and which now made us feel as if we had all
been drinking some exhilarating gas. The depths of this unexplored forest
were a place to delight the heart of a botanist. There was a rich
undergrowth of plants, and numerous gay-colored flowers in brilliant
bloom. We reached the outlet at length, where some freshly-barked willows
that lay in the water showed that beaver had been recently at work.

There were some small brown squirrels jumping about in the pines, and a
couple of large mallard ducks swimming about in the stream.

The hills on this southern end were low, and the lake looked like a mimic
sea, as the waves broke on the sandy beach in the force of a strong
breeze. There was a pretty open spot, with fine grass for our mules; and
we made our noon halt on the beach, under the shade of some large
hemlocks. We resumed our journey after a halt of about an hour, making our
way up the ridge on the western side of the lake. In search of smoother
ground, we rode a little inland; and, passing through groves of aspen,
soon found ourselves again among the pines. Emerging from these, we struck
the summit of the ridge above the upper end of the lake.

We had reached a very elevated point, and in the valley below, and among
the hills, were a number of lakes of different levels; some two or three
hundred feet above others, with which they communicated by foaming
torrents. Even to our great height the roar of the cataracts came up, and
we could see them leaping down in lines of snowy foam. From this scene of
busy waters, we turned abruptly into the stillness of a forest, where we
rode among the open bolls of the pines, over a lawn of verdant grass,
having strikingly the air of cultivated grounds. This led us, after a
time, among masses of rock which had no vegetable earth but in hollows and
crevices though still the pine forest continued. Towards evening we
reached a defile, or rather a hole in the mountains, entirely shut in by
dark pine-covered rocks.

A small stream, with scarcely perceptible current, flowed through a level
bottom of perhaps eighty yards width, where the grass was saturated with
water. Into this the mules were turned, and were neither hobbled nor
picketed during the night, as the fine pasturage took away all temptation
to stray; and we made our bivouac in the pines. The surrounding masses
were all of granite. While supper was being prepared, I set out on an
excursion in the neighborhood, accompanied by one of my men. We wandered
about among the crags and ravines until dark, richly repaid for our walk
by a fine collection of plants, many of them in full bloom. Ascending a
peak to find the place of our camp, we saw that the little defile in which
we lay communicated with the long green valley of some stream, which, here
locked up in the mountains, far away to the south, found its way in a
dense forest to the plains.

Looking along its upward course, it seemed to conduct, by a smooth gradual
slope, directly towards the peak, which, from long consultation as we
approached the mountain, we had decided to be the highest of the range.
Pleased with the discovery of so fine a road for the next day, we hastened
down to the camp, where we arrived just in time for supper. Our table-
service was rather scant; and we held the meat in our hands, and clean
rocks made good plates, on which we spread our macaroni. Among all the
strange places on which we had occasion to encamp during our long journey,
none have left so vivid an impression on my mind as the camp of this
evening. The disorder of the masses which surrounded us--the little hole
through which we saw the stars over head--the dark pines where we slept--
and the rocks lit up with the glow of our fires, made a night-picture of
very wild beauty.

13th.--The morning was bright and pleasant, just cool enough to make
exercise agreeable, and we soon entered the defile I had seen the
preceding day. It was smoothly carpeted with soft grass, and scattered
over with groups of flowers, of which yellow was the predominant color.
Sometimes we were forced, by an occasional difficult pass, to pick our way
on a narrow ledge along the side of the defile, and the mules were
frequently on their knees; but these obstructions were rare, and we
journeyed on in the sweet morning air, delighted at our good fortune in
having found such a beautiful entrance to the mountains. This road
continued for about three miles, when we suddenly reached its termination
in one of the grand views which, at every turn, meet the traveler in this
magnificent region. Here the defile up which we had traveled opened out
into a small lawn, where, in a little lake, the stream had its source.

There were some fine _asters_ in bloom, but all the flowering plants
appeared to seek the shelter of the rocks, and to be of lower growth than
below, as if they loved the warmth of the soil, and kept out of the way of
the winds. Immediately at our feet, a precipitous descent led to a
confusion of defiles, and before us rose the mountains, as we have
represented them in the annexed view. It is not by the splendor of far-off
views, which have lent such a glory to the Alps, that these impress the
mind; but by a gigantic disorder of enormous masses, and a savage
sublimity of naked rock, in wonderful contrast with innumerable green
spots of a rich floral beauty, shut up in their stern recesses. Their
wildness seems well suited to the character of the people who inhabit the
country.

I determined to leave our animals here, and make the rest of our way on
foot. The peak appeared so near, that there was no doubt of our returning
before night; and a few men were left in charge of the mules, with our
provisions and blankets. We took with us nothing but our arms and
instruments, and, as the day had become warm, the greater part left our
coats. Having made an early dinner, we started again. We were soon
involved in the most ragged precipices, nearing the central chain very
slowly, and rising but little. The first ridge hid a succession of others;
and when, with great fatigue and difficulty, we had climbed up five
hundred feet, it was but to make an equal descent on the other side; all
these intervening places were filled with small deep lakes, which met the
eye in every direction, descending from one level to another, sometimes
under bridges formed by huge fragments of granite, beneath which was heard
the roar of the water. These constantly obstructed our path, forcing us to
make long _detours_; frequently obliged to retrace our steps, and
frequently falling among the rocks. Maxwell was precipitated towards the
face of a precipice, and saved himself from going over by throwing himself
flat on the ground. We clambered on, always expecting, with every ridge
that we crossed, to reach the foot of the peaks, and always disappointed,
until about four o'clock, when, pretty well worn out, we reached the shore
of a little lake, in which was a rocky island. We remained here a short
time to rest, and continued on around the lake, which had in some places a
beach of white sand, and in others was bound with rocks, over which the
way was difficult and dangerous, as the water from innumerable springs
made them very slippery.

By the time we had reached the further side of the lake, we found
ourselves all exceedingly fatigued, and, much to the satisfaction of the
whole party, we encamped. The spot we had chosen was a broad flat rock, in
some measure protected from the winds by the surrounding crags, and the
trunks of fallen pines afforded us bright fires. Near by was a foaming
torrent, which tumbled into the little lake about one hundred and fifty
feet below us, and which, by way of distinction, we have called Island
lake. We had reached the upper limit of the piney region; as, above this
point, no tree was to be seen, and patches of snow lay everywhere around
us, on the cold sides of the rocks. The flora of the region we had
traversed since leaving our mules was extremely rich, and, among the
characteristic plants, the scarlet flowers of the _dodecatheon
dentatum_ everywhere met the eye, in great abundance. A small green
ravine, on the edge of which we were encamped, was filled with a profusion
of alpine plants, in brilliant bloom. From barometrical observations, made
during our three days' sojourn at this place, its elevation above the Gulf
of Mexico is 10,000 feet. During the day, we had seen no sign of animal
life; but among the rocks here, we heard what was supposed to be the bleat
of a young goat, which we searched for with hungry activity, and found to
proceed from a small animal of a gray color, with short ears and no tail--
probably the Siberian squirrel. We saw a considerable number of them, and,
with the exception of a small bird like a sparrow, it is the only
inhabitant of this elevated part of the mountains. On our return, we saw,
below this lake, large flocks of the mountain-goat. We had nothing to eat
to-night. Lajeunesse, with several others, took their guns, and sallied
out in search of a goat; but returned unsuccessful. At sunset, the
barometer stood at 20.522; the attached thermometer 50 deg.. Here we had the
misfortune to break our thermometer, having now only that attached to the
barometer. I was taken ill shortly after we had encamped, and continued so
until late in the night, with violent headache and vomiting. This was
probably caused by the excessive fatigue I had undergone, and want of
food, and perhaps, also, in some measure, by the rarity of the air. The
night was cold, as a violent gale from the north had sprung up at sunset,
which entirely blew away the heat of the fires. The cold, and our granite
beds, had not been favorable to sleep, and we were glad to see the face of
the sun in the morning. Not being delayed by any preparation for
breakfast, we set out immediately.

On every side, as we advanced, was heard the roar of waters, and of a
torrent, which we followed up a short distance, until it expanded into a
lake about one mile in length. On the northern side of the lake was a bank
of ice, or rather of snow covered with a crust of ice. Carson had been our
guide into the mountains, and, agreeably to his advice, we left this
little valley, and took to the ridges again, which we found extremely
broken, and where we were again involved among precipices. Here were ice-
fields; among which we were all dispersed, seeking each the best path to
ascend the peak. Mr. Preuss attempted to walk along the upper edge of one
of these fields, which sloped away at an angle of about twenty degrees;
but his feet slipped from under him, and he went plunging down the plain.
A few hundred feet below, at the bottom, were some fragments of sharp
rock, on which he landed; and, though he turned a couple of somersets,
fortunately received no injury beyond a few bruises. Two of the men,
Clement Lambert and Descoteaux, had been taken ill, and lay down on the
rocks, a short distance below; and at this point I was attacked with
headache and giddiness, accompanied by vomiting, as on the day before.
Finding myself unable to proceed, I sent the barometer over to Mr. Preuss,
who was in a gap two or three hundred yards distant, desiring him to reach
the peak if possible, and take an observation there. He found himself
unable to proceed further in that direction, and took an observation,
where the barometer stood at 19.401; attached thermometer 50 deg., in the gap.
Carson, who had gone over to him, succeeded in reaching one of the snowy
summits of the main ridge, whence he saw the peak towards which all our
efforts had been directed, towering eight or ten hundred feet into the air
above him. In the mean time, finding myself grow rather worse than better,
and doubtful how far my strength would carry me, I sent Basil Lajeunesse,
with four men, back to the place where the mules had been left.

We were now better acquainted with the topography of the country, and I
directed him to bring back with him, if it were in any way possible, four
or five mules, with provisions and blankets. With me were Maxwell and
Ayer; and after we had remained nearly an hour on the rock, it became so
unpleasantly cold, though the day was bright, that we set out on our
return to the camp, at which we all arrived safely, straggling in one
after the other. I continued ill during the afternoon, but became better
towards sundown, when my recovery was completed by the appearance of Basil
and four men, all mounted. The men who had gone with him had been too much
fatigued to return, and were relieved by those in charge of the horses;
but in his powers of endurance Basil resembled more a mountain-goat than a
man. They brought blankets and provisions, and we enjoyed well our dried
meat and a cup of good coffee. We rolled ourselves up in our blankets,
and, with our feet turned to a blazing fire, slept soundly until morning.

15th.--It had been supposed that we had finished with the mountains; and
the evening before it had been arranged that Carson should set out at
daylight, and return to breakfast at the Camp of the Mules, taking with
him all but four or five men, who were to stay with me and bring back the
mules and instruments. Accordingly, at the break of day they set out. With
Mr. Preuss and myself remained Basil Lajeunesse, Clement Lambert, Janisse,
and Descoteaux. When we had secured strength for the day by a hearty
breakfast, we covered what remained, which was enough for one meal, with
rocks, in order that it might be safe from any marauding bird, and,
saddling our mules, turned our faces once more towards the peaks. This
time we determined to proceed quietly and cautiously, deliberately
resolved to accomplish our object if it were within the compass of human
means. We were of opinion that a long defile which lay to the left of
yesterday's route would lead us to the foot of the main peak. Our mules
had been refreshed by the fine grass in the little ravine at the Island
camp, and we intended to ride up the defile as far as possible, in order
to husband our strength for the main ascent. Though this was a fine
passage, still it was a defile of the most rugged mountains known, and we
had many a rough and steep slippery place to cross before reaching the
end. In this place the sun rarely shone; snow lay along the border of the
small stream which flowed through it, and occasional icy passages made the
footing of the mules very insecure, and the rocks and ground were moist
with the trickling waters in this spring of mighty rivers. We soon had the
satisfaction to find ourselves riding along the huge wall which forms the
central summits of the chain. There at last it rose by our sides, a nearly
perpendicular wall of granite, terminating 2,000 to 3,000 feet above our
heads in a serrated line of broken, jagged cones. We rode on until we came
almost immediately below the main peak, which I denominated the Snow peak,
as it exhibited more snow to the eye than any of the neighboring summits.
Here were three small lakes of a green color, each, perhaps, of a thousand
yards in diameter, and apparently very deep. These lay in a kind of chasm;
and, according to the barometer, we had attained but a few hundred feet
above the Island lake. The barometer here stood at 20.450, attached
thermometer 70 deg..

We managed to get our mules up to a little bench about a hundred feet
above the lakes, where there was a patch of good grass, and turned them
loose to graze. During our rough ride to this place, they had exhibited a
wonderful surefootedness. Parts of the defile were filled with angular,
sharp fragments of rock, three or four and eight or ten feet cube; and
among these they had worked their way, leaping from one narrow point to
another, rarely making a false step, and giving us no occasion to
dismount. Having divested ourselves of every unnecessary encumbrance, we
commenced the ascent. This time, like experienced travelers, we did not
press ourselves, but climbed leisurely, sitting down so soon as we found
breath beginning to fail. At intervals we reached places where a number of
springs gushed from the rocks, and about 1800 feet above the lakes came to
the snow line. From this point our progress was uninterrupted climbing.
Hitherto I had worn a pair of thick moccasins, with soles of
_parfleche_, but here I put on a light, thin pair, which I had
brought for the purpose, as now the use of our toes became necessary to a
further advance. I availed myself of a sort of comb of the mountain, which
stood against the wall like a buttress, and which the wind and the solar
radiation, joined to the steepness of the smooth rock, had kept almost
entirely free from snow. Up this I made my way rapidly. Our cautious
method of advancing at the outset had spared my strength; and, with the
exception of a slight disposition to headache, I felt no remains of
yesterday's illness. In a few minutes we reached a point where the
buttress was overhanging, and there was no other way of surmounting the
difficulty than by passing around one side of it, which was the face of a
vertical precipice of several hundred feet.

Putting hands and feet in the crevices between the blocks, I succeeded in
getting over it, and, when I reached the top, found my companions in a
small valley below. Descending to them, we continued climbing, and in a
short time reached the crest. I sprang upon the summit, and another step
would have precipitated me into an immense snow-field five hundred feet
below. To the edge of this field was a sheer icy precipice; and then, with
a gradual fall, the field sloped off for about a mile, until it struck the
foot of another lower ridge. I stood on a narrow crest, about three feet
in width, with an inclination of about 20 deg.N. 51 deg.E. As soon as I had
gratified the first feelings of curiosity, I descended, and each man
ascended in his turn; for I would only allow one at a time to mount the
unstable and precarious slab, which it seemed a breath would hurl into the
abyss below. We mounted the barometer in the snow of the summit, and,
fixing a ramrod in a crevice, unfurled the national flag to wave in the
breeze where never flag waved before. During our morning's ascent, we had
met no sign of animal life, except the small sparrow-like bird already
mentioned. A stillness the most profound and a terrible solitude forced
themselves constantly on the mind as the great features of the place.
Here, on the summit, where the stillness was absolute, unbroken by any
sound, and solitude complete, we thought ourselves beyond the region of
animated life; but while we were sitting on the rock, a solitary bee
(_bromus, the humble-bee_) came winging his flight from the eastern
valley, and lit on the knee of one of the men.

It was a strange place, the icy rock and the highest peak of the Rocky
mountains, for a lover of warm sunshine and flowers; and we pleased
ourselves with the idea that he was the first of his species to cross the
mountain barrier--a solitary pioneer to foretell the advance of
civilization. I believe that a moment's thought would have made us let him
continue his way unharmed; but we carried out the law of this country,
where all animated nature seems at war; and, seizing him immediately, put
him in at least a fit place--in the leaves of a large book, among the
flowers we had collected on our way. The barometer stood at 18.293, the
attached thermometer at 44 deg.; giving for the elevation of this summit
13,570 feet above the Gulf of Mexico, which may be called the highest
flight of the bee. It is certainly the highest known flight of that
insect. From the description given by Mackenzie of the mountains where he
crossed them, with that of a French officer still farther to the north,
and Colonel Long's measurements to the south, joined to the opinion of the
oldest traders of the country, it is presumed that this is the highest
peak of the Rocky mountains. The day was sunny and bright, but a slight
shining mist hung over the lower plains, which interfered with our view of
the surrounding country. On one side we overlooked innumerable lakes and
streams, the spring of the Colorado of the Gulf of California; and on the
other was the Wind River valley, where were the heads of the Yellowstone
branch of the Missouri; far to the north, we could just discover the snowy
heads of the _Trois Tetons_, where were the sources of the Missouri
and Columbia rivers; and at the southern extremity of the ridge, the peaks
were plainly visible, among which were some of the springs of the Nebraska
or Platte river. Around us, the whole scene had one main, striking
feature, which was that of terrible convulsion. Parallel to its length,
the ridge was split into chasms and fissures; between which rose the thin
lofty walls, terminated with slender minarets and columns. According to
the barometer, the little crest of the wall on which we stood was three
thousand five hundred and seventy feet above that place, and two thousand
seven hundred and eighty above the little lakes at the bottom, immediately
at our feet. Our camp at the Two Hills (an astronomical station) bore
south 3 deg. east, which, with a bearing afterwards obtained from a fixed
position, enabled us to locate the peak. The bearing of the _Trois
Tetons_ was north 50 deg. west, and the direction of the central ridge of
the Wind River mountains south 39 deg. east. The summit rock was gneiss,
succeeded by sienitic gneiss. Sienite and feldspar succeeded in our
descent to the snow line, where we found a feldspathic granite. I had
remarked that the noise produced by the explosion of our pistols had the
usual degree of loudness, but was not in the least prolonged, expiring
almost instantaneously.

Having now made what observations our means afforded, we proceeded to
descend. We had accomplished an object of laudable ambition, and beyond
the strict order of our instructions. We had climbed the loftiest peak of
the Rocky mountains, and looked down upon the snow a thousand feet below;
and, standing where never human foot had stood before, felt the exultation
of first explorers. It was about two o'clock when we left the summit, and
when we reached the bottom, the sun had already sunk behind the wall, and
the day was drawing to a close. It would have been pleasant to have
lingered here and on the summit longer; but we hurried away as rapidly as
the ground would permit, for it was an object to regain our party as soon
as possible, not knowing what accident the next hour might bring forth.

We reached our deposite of provisions at nightfall. Here was not the inn
which awaits the tired traveler on his return from Mont Blanc, or the
orange groves of South America, with their refreshing juices and soft
fragrant air; but we found our little _cache_ of dried meat and
coffee undisturbed. Though the moon was bright, the road was full of
precipices, and the fatigue of the day had been great. We therefore
abandoned the idea of rejoining our friends, and lay down on the rock,
and, in spite of the cold, slept soundly.

16th.--We left our encampment with the daylight. We saw on our way large
flocks of the mountain-goat looking down on us from the cliffs. At the
crack of the rifle, they would bound off among the rocks, and in a few
minutes make their appearance on some lofty peak, some hundred or a
thousand feet above. It is needless to attempt any further description of
the country; the portion over which we traveled this morning was rough as
imagination could picture it, and to us seemed equally beautiful. A
concourse of lakes and rushing waters--mountains of rocks naked and
destitute of vegetable earth--dells and ravines of the most exquisite
beauty, all kept green and fresh by the great moisture in the air, and
sown with brilliant flowers, and everywhere thrown around all the glory of
most magnificent scenes,--these constitute the features of the place, and
impress themselves vividly on the mind of the traveler. It was not until
11 o'clock that we reached the place where our animals had been left, when
we first attempted the mountains on foot. Near one of the still burning
fires we found a piece of meat, which our friends had thrown away, and
which furnished us a mouthful--a very scanty breakfast. We continued
directly on, and reached our camp on the mountain lake at dusk. We found
all well. Nothing had occurred to interrupt the quiet since our departure,
and the fine grass and good cool water had done much to re-establish our
animals. All heard with great delight the order to turn our faces
homeward; and towards sundown of the 17th, we encamped again at the Two
Buttes.

In the course of this afternoon's march, the barometer was broken past
remedy. I regretted it, as I was desirous to compare it again with Dr.
Engleman's barometers at St. Louis, to which mine were referred; but it
had done its part well, and my objects were mainly fulfilled.

19th.--We left our camp on Little Sandy river about seven in the morning,
and traversed the same sandy, undulating country. The air was filled with
the turpentine scent of the various _artemisias_, which are now in
bloom, and, numerous as they are, give much gayety to the landscape of the
plains. At ten o'clock, we stood exactly on the divide in the pass, where
the wagon-road crosses; and, descending immediately upon the Sweet Water,
halted to take a meridian observation of the sun. The latitude was 42 deg. 24'
32".

In the course of the afternoon we saw buffalo again, and at our evening
halt on the Sweet Water the roasted ribs again made their appearance
around the fires; and, with them, good humor, and laughter and song, were
restored to the camp. Our coffee had been expended, but we now made a kind
of tea from the roots of the wild-cherry tree.

23d.--Yesterday evening we reached our encampment at Rock Independence,
where I took some astronomical observations. Here, not unmindful of the
custom of early travelers and explorers in our country, I engraved on this
rock of the Far West a symbol of the Christian faith. Among the thickly
inscribed names, I made on the hard granite the impression of a large
cross, which I covered with a black preparation of India-rubber, well
calculated to resist the influence of wind and rain. It stands amidst the
names of many who have long since found their way to the grave, and for
whom the huge rock is a giant gravestone.

One George Weymouth was sent out to Maine by the Earl of Southampton, Lord
Arundel, and others; and in the narrative of their discoveries, he says:
"The next day we ascended in our pinnace that part of the river which lies
more to the westward, carrying with us a cross--a thing never omitted by
any Christian traveler--which we erected at the ultimate end of our
route." This was in the year 1605; and in 1842 I obeyed the feeling of
early travelers, and left the impression of the cross deeply engraved on
the vast rock one thousand miles beyond the Mississippi, to which
discoverers have given the national name of _Rock Independence_.

In obedience to my instructions to survey the river Platte, if possible, I
had determined to make an attempt at this place. The India-rubber boat was
filled with air, placed in the water, and loaded with what was necessary
for our operations; and I embarked with Mr. Preuss and a party of men.
When we had dragged our boat a mile or two over the sands, I abandoned the
impossible undertaking, and waited for the arrival of the party, when we
packed up our boat and equipage, and at nine o'clock were again moving
along on our land journey. We continued along the valley on the right bank
of the Sweet Water, where the formation, as already described, consists of
a grayish micaceous sandstone, and fine-grained conglomerate, and marl. We
passed over a ridge which borders or constitutes the river hills of the
Platte, consisting of huge blocks, sixty or eighty feet cube, of
decomposing granite. The cement which united them was probably of easier
decomposition, and has disappeared and left them isolate, and separated by
small spaces. Numerous horns of the mountain-goat were lying among the
rocks; and in the ravines were cedars, whose trunks were of extraordinary
size. From this ridge we descended to a small open plain, at the mouth of
the Sweet Water, which rushed with a rapid current into the Platte, here
flowing along in a broad and apparently deep stream, which seemed, from
its turbid appearance, to be considerably swollen. I obtained here some
astronomical observations, and the afternoon was spent in getting our boat
ready for navigation the next day.

24th.--We started before sunrise, intending to breakfast at Goat island. I
had directed the land party, in charge of Bernier, to proceed to this
place, where they were to remain, should they find no note to apprize them
of our having passed. In the event of receiving this information, they
were to continue their route, passing by certain places which had been
designated. Mr. Preuss accompanied me, and with us were five of my best
men, viz.: C. Lambert, Basil Lajeunesse, Honore Ayot, Benoist, and
Descoteaux. Here appeared no scarcity of water, and we took on board, with
various instruments and baggage, provisions for ten or twelve days. We
paddled down the river rapidly, for our little craft was light as a duck
on the water; and the sun had been some time risen, when we heard before
us a hollow roar, which we supposed to be that of a fall, of which we had
heard a vague rumor, but whose exact locality no one had been able to
describe to us. We were approaching a ridge, through which the river
passes by a place called "canon," (pronounced _kanyon_,)--a Spanish
word, signifying a piece of artillery, the barrel of a gun, or any kind of
tube; and which, in this country, has been adopted to describe the passage
of a river between perpendicular rocks of great height, which frequently
approach each other so closely overhead as to form a kind of tunnel over
the stream, which foams along below, half choked up by fallen fragments.
Between the mouth of the Sweet Water and Goat island, there is probably a
fall of three hundred feet, and that was principally made in the canons
before us; as, without them, the water was comparatively smooth. As we
neared the ridge, the river made a sudden turn, and swept squarely down
against one of the walls of the canon, with great velocity, and so steep a
descent that it had, to the eye, the appearance of an inclined plane. When
we launched into this, the men jumped overboard, to check the velocity of
the boat; but were soon in water up to their necks, and our boat ran on.
But we succeeded in bringing her to a small point of rocks on the right,
at the mouth of the canon. Here was a kind of elevated sand-beach, not
many yards square, backed by the rocks; and around the point the river
swept at a right angle. Trunks of trees deposited on jutting points,
twenty or thirty feet above, and other marks, showed that the water here
frequently rose to a considerable height. The ridge was of the same
decomposing granite already mentioned, and the water had worked the
surface, in many places, into a wavy surface of ridges and holes. We
ascended the rocks to reconnoitre the ground, and from the summit the
passage appeared to be a continued cataract, foaming over many
obstructions, and broken by a number of small falls. We saw nowhere a fall
answering to that which had been described to us as having twenty or
twenty-five feet; but still concluded this to be the place in question,
as, in the season of floods, the rush of the river against the wall would
produce a great rise; and the waters, reflected squarely off, would
descend through the passage in a sheet of foam, having every appearance of
a large fall. Eighteen years previous to this time, as I have subsequently
learned from himself, Mr. Fitzpatrick, somewhere above on this river, had
embarked with a valuable cargo of beaver. Unacquainted with the stream,
which he believed would conduct him safely to the Missouri, he came
unexpectedly into this canon, where he was wrecked, with the total loss of
his furs. It would have been a work of great time and labor to pack our
baggage across the ridge, and I determined to run the canon. We all again
embarked, and at first attempted to check the way of the boat; but the
water swept through with so much violence that we narrowly escaped being
swamped, and were obliged to let her go in the full force of the current,
and trust to the skill of the boatmen. The dangerous places in this canon
were where huge rocks had fallen from above, and hemmed in the already
narrow pass of the river to an open space of three or four and five feet.
These obstructions raised the water considerably above, which was
sometimes precipitated over in a fall; and at other places, where this dam
was too high, rushed through the contracted opening with tremendous
violence. Had our boat been made of wood, in passing the narrows she would
have been staved; but her elasticity preserved her unhurt from every
shock, and she seemed fairly to leap over the falls.

In this way we passed three cataracts in succession, where perhaps 100
feet of smooth water intervened; and, finally, with a shout of pleasure at
our success, issued from our tunnel into the open day beyond. We were so
delighted with the performance of our boat, and so confident in her
powers, that we would not have hesitated to leap a fall of ten feet with
her. We put to shore for breakfast at some willows on the right bank,
immediately below the mouth of the canon; for it was now eight o'clock,
and we had been working since daylight, and were all wet, fatigued, and
hungry. While the men were preparing breakfast, I went out to reconnoitre.
The view was very limited. The course of the river was smooth, so far as I
could see; on both sides were broken hills; and but a mile or two below
was another high ridge. The rock at the mouth of the canon was still the
decomposing granite, with great quantities of mica, which made a very
glittering sand.

We re-embarked at nine o'clock, and in about twenty minutes reached the
next canon. Landing on a rocky shore at its commencement, we ascended the
ridge to reconnoitre. Portage was out of the question. So far as we could
see, the jagged rocks pointed out the course of the canon, on a winding
line of seven or eight miles. It was simply a narrow, dark chasm in the
rock; and here the perpendicular faces were much higher than in the
previous pass, being at this end two to three hundred, and further down,
as we afterwards ascertained, five hundred feet in vertical height. Our
previous success had made us bold, and we determined again to run the
canon. Every thing was secured as firmly as possible; and having divested
ourselves of the greater part of our clothing, we pushed into the stream.
To save our chronometer from accident, Mr. Preuss took it, and attempted
to proceed along the shore on the masses of rock, which in places were
piled up on either side; but, after he had walked about five minutes,
every thing like shore disappeared, and the vertical wall came squarely
down into the water. He therefore waited until we came up. An ugly pass
lay before us. We had made fast to the stern of the boat a strong rope
about fifty feet long; and three of the men clambered along among the
rocks, and with this rope let her slowly through the pass. In several
places high rocks lay scattered about in the channel; and in the narrows
it required all our strength and skill to avoid staving the boat on the
sharp points. In one of these, the boat proved a little too broad, and
stuck fast for an instant, while the water flew over us; fortunately, it
was but for an instant, as our united strength forced her immediately
through. The water swept overboard only a sextant and a pair of saddle-
bags. I caught the sextant as it passed by me; but the saddle-bags became
the prey of the whirlpools. We reached the place where Mr. Preuss was
standing, took him on board, and, with the aid of the boat, put the men
with the rope on the succeeding pile of rocks. We found this passage much
worse than the previous one, and our position was rather a bad one. To go
back was impossible; before us, the cataract was a sheet of foam; and shut
up in the chasm by the rocks, which, in some places, seemed almost to meet
overhead, the roar of the water was deafening. We pushed off again; but,
after making a little distance, the force of the current became too great
for the men on shore, and two of them let go the rope. Lajeunesse, the
third man, hung on, and was jerked headforemost into the river from a rock
about twelve feet high; and down the boat shot like an arrow, Basil
following us in the rapid current, and exerting all his strength to keep
in mid channel--his head only seen occasionally like a black spot in the
white foam. How far we went, I do not exactly know; but we succeeded in
turning the boat into an eddy below. "'_Cre Dieu_," said Basil
Lajeunesse, as he arrived immediately after us, "_Je crois bien que j'ai
nage un demi mile_." He had owed his life to his skill as a swimmer,
and I determined to take him and the two others on board, and trust to
skill and fortune to reach the other end in safety. We placed ourselves on
our knees with the short paddles in our hands, the most skilful boatman
being at the bow; and again we commenced our rapid descent. We cleared
rock after rock, and shot past fall after fall, our little boat seeming to
play with the cataract. We became flushed with success, and familiar with
the danger; and, yielding to the excitement of the occasion, broke forth
into a Canadian boat-song. Singing, or rather shouting; we dashed along,
and were, I believe, in the midst of the chorus, when the boat struck a
concealed rock immediately at the foot of a fall, which whirled her over
in an instant. Three of my men could not swim, and my first feeling was to
assist them, and save some of our effects; but a sharp concussion or two
convinced me that I had not yet saved myself. A few strokes brought me
into an eddy, and I landed on a pile of rocks on the left side. Looking
around, I saw that Mr. Preuss had gained the shore on the same side, about
twenty yards below; and a little climbing and swimming soon brought him to
my side. On the opposite side, against the wall, lay the boat bottom up;
and Lambert was in the act of saving Descoteaux, whom he had grasped by
the hair, and who could not swim; "_Lache pas_," said he, as I
afterwards learned, "_lache pas, cher frere_." "_Crains pas_,"
was the reply: "_je m'en vais mourir avant que de te lacher_." Such
was the reply of courage and generosity in this danger. For a hundred
yards below the current was covered with floating books and boxes, bales
and blankets, and scattered articles of clothing; and so strong and
boiling was the stream, that even our heavy instruments, which were all in
cases, kept on the surface, and the sextant, circle, and the long black
box of the telescope, were in view at once. For a moment, I felt somewhat
disheartened. All our books--almost every record of the journey--our
journals and registers of astronomical and barometrical observations--had
been lost in a moment. But it was no time to indulge in regrets; and I
immediately set about endeavoring to save something from the wreck. Making
ourselves understood as well as possible by signs, (for nothing could be
heard in the roar of the waters,) we commenced our operations. Of every
thing on board, the only article that had been saved was my double-
barreled gun, which Descoteaux had caught and clung to with drowning
tenacity. The men continued down the river on the left bank. Mr. Preuss
and myself descended on the side we were on; and Lajeunesse, with a paddle
in his hand, jumped on the boat alone, and continued down the canon. She
was now light, and cleared every bad place with much less difficulty. In a
short time he was joined by Lambert, and the search was continued for
about a mile and a half, which was as far as the boat could proceed in the
pass.

Here the walls were about five hundred feet high, and the fragments of
rocks from above had choked the river into a hollow pass, but one or two
feet above the surface. Through this and the interstices of the rock, the
water found its way. Favored beyond our expectations, all of our registers
had been recovered, with the exception of one of my journals, which
contained the notes and incidents of travel, and topographical
descriptions, a number of scattered astronomical observations, principally
meridian altitudes of the sun, and our barometrical register west of
Laramie. Fortunately, our other journals contained duplicates of the most
important barometrical observations which had been taken in the mountains.
These, with a few scattered notes, were all that had been preserved of our
meteorological observations. In addition to these, we saved the circle;
and these, with a few blankets, constituted every thing that had been
rescued from the waters.

The day was running rapidly away, and it was necessary to reach Goat
island, whither the party had preceded us, before night. In this uncertain
country, the traveler is so much in the power of chance, that we became
somewhat uneasy in regard to them. Should any thing have occurred, in the
brief interval of our separation, to prevent our rejoining them, our
situation would be rather a desperate one. We had not a morsel of
provisions--our arms and ammunition were gone--and we were entirely at the
mercy of any straggling party of savages, and not a little in danger of
starvation. We therefore set out at once in two parties, Mr. Preuss and
myself on the left, and the men on the opposite side of the river.
Climbing out of the canon, we found ourselves in a very broken country,
where we were not yet able to recognise any locality. In the course of our
descent through the canon, the rocks, which at the upper end was of the
decomposing granite, changed into a varied sandstone formation. The hills
and points of the ridges were covered with fragments of a yellow
sandstone, of which the strata were sometimes displayed in the broken
ravines which interrupted our course, and made our walk extremely
fatiguing. At one point of the canon the red argillaceous sandstone rose
in a wall of five hundred feet, surmounted by a stratum of white
sandstone; and in an opposite ravine a column of red sandstone rose, in
form like a steeple, about one hundred and fifty feet high. The scenery
was extremely picturesque, and notwithstanding our forlorn condition, we
were frequently obliged to stop and admire it. Our progress was not very
rapid. We had emerged from the water half naked, and, on arriving at the
top of the precipice, I found myself with only one moccasin. The fragments
of rock made walking painful, and I was frequently obliged to stop and
pull out the thorns of the _cactus_, here the prevailing plant, and
with which a few minutes' walk covered the bottoms of my feet. From this
ridge the river emerged into a smiling prairie, and, descending to the
bank for water, we were joined by Benoist. The rest of the party were out
of sight, having taken a more inland route. We crossed the river
repeatedly--sometimes able to ford it, and sometimes swimming--climbed
over the ridges of two more canons, and towards evening reached the cut,
which we here named the Hot Spring gate. On our previous visit in July, we
had not entered this pass, reserving it for our descent in the boat; and
when we entered it this evening, Mr. Preuss was a few hundred feet in
advance. Heated with the long march, he came suddenly upon a fine bold
spring gushing from the rock, about ten feet above the river. Eager to
enjoy the crystal water, he threw himself down for a hasty draught, and
took a mouthful of water almost boiling hot. He said nothing to Benoist,
who laid himself down to drink; but the steam from the water arrested his
eagerness, and he escaped the hot draught. We had no thermometer to
ascertain the temperature, but I could hold my hand in the water just long
enough to count two seconds. There are eight or ten of these springs
discharging themselves by streams large enough to be called runs. A loud
hollow noise was heard from the rock, which I supposed to be produced by
the fall of water. The strata immediately where they issue is a fine white
and calcareous sandstone, covered with an incrustation of common salt.
Leaving this Thermopylae of the west, in a short walk we reached the red
ridge which has been described as lying just above Goat island. Ascending
this, we found some fresh tracks and a button, which showed that the other
men had already arrived. A shout from the man who first reached the top of
the ridge, responded to from below, informed us that our friends were all
on the island; and we were soon among them. We found some pieces of
buffalo standing around the fire for us, and managed to get some dry
clothes among the people. A sudden storm of rain drove us into the best
shelter we could find, where we slept soundly, after one of the most
fatiguing days I have ever experienced.

25th.--Early this morning Lajeunesse was sent to the wreck for the
articles which had been saved, and about noon we left the island. The mare
which we had left here in July had much improved in condition, and she
served us well again for some time, but was finally abandoned at a
subsequent part of the journey. At 10 in the morning of the 26th we
reached Cache camp, where we found every thing undisturbed. We disinterred
our deposite, arranged our carts which had been left here on the way out;
and, traveling a few miles in the afternoon, encamped for the night at the
ford of the Platte.

27th.--At mid-day we halted at the place where we had taken dinner on the
27th of July. The country which, when we passed up, looked as if the hard
winter frosts had passed over it, had now assumed a new face, so much of
vernal freshness had been given to it by the rains. The Platte was
exceedingly low--a mere line of water among the sandbars. We reached
Laramie fort on the last day of August, after an absence of forty-two
days, and had the pleasure to find our friends all well. The fortieth day
had been fixed for our return; and the quick eyes of the Indians, who were
on the lookout for us, discovered our flag as we wound among the hills.
The fort saluted us with repeated discharges of its single piece, which we
returned with scattered volleys of our small-arms, and felt the joy of a
home reception in getting back to this remote station, which seemed so far
off as we went out.



SEPTEMBER.


On the morning of the 3d September we bade adieu to our kind friends at
the fort, and continued our homeward journey down the Platte, which was
glorious with the autumnal splendor of innumerable flowers in full and
brilliant bloom. On the warm sands, among the _helianthi_, one of the
characteristic plants, we saw great numbers of rattlesnakes, of which five
or six were killed in the morning's ride. We occupied ourselves in
improving our previous survey of the river; and, as the weather was fine,
astronomical observations were generally made at night and at noon.

We halted for a short time on the afternoon of the 5th with a village of
Sioux Indians, some of whose chiefs we had met at Laramie. The water in
the Platte was exceedingly low; in many places, the large expanse of
sands, with some occasional stunted tree on its banks, gave it the air of
the seacoast; the bed of the river being merely a succession of sandbars,
among which the channel was divided into rivulets of a few inches deep. We
crossed and recrossed with our carts repeatedly and at our pleasure; and,
whenever an obstruction barred our way in the shape of precipitous bluffs
that came down upon the river, we turned directly into it, and made our
way along the sandy bed, with no other inconvenience than the frequent
quicksands, which greatly fatigued our animals. Disinterring on the way
the _cache_ which had been made by our party when they ascended the
river, we reached without accident, on the evening of the 12th of
September, our old encampment of the 2d of July, at the junction of the
forks. Our _cache_ of the barrel of pork was found undisturbed, and
proved a seasonable addition to our stock of provisions. At this place I
had determined to make another attempt to descend the Platte by water, and
accordingly spent two days in the construction of a bull boat. Men were
sent out on the evening of our arrival, the necessary number of bulls
killed, and their skins brought to the camp. Four of the best of them were
strongly sewed together with buffalo sinew, and stretched over a basket
frame of willow. The seams were then covered with ashes and tallow, and
the boat left exposed to the sun for the greater part of one day, which
was sufficient to dry and contract the skin, and make the whole work solid
and strong. It had a rounded bow, was eight feet long and five broad, and
drew with four men about four inches water. On the morning of the 15th we
embarked in our hide boat, Mr. Preuss and myself, with two men. We dragged
her over the sands for three or four miles, and then left her on a bar,
and abandoned entirely all further attempts to navigate this river. The
names given by the Indians are always remarkably appropriate; and
certainly none was ever more so than that which they have given to this
stream--"The Nebraska, or Shallow river." Walking steadily the remainder
of the day, a little before dark we overtook our people at their remaining
camp, about twenty-one miles below the junction. The next morning we
crossed the Platte, and continued our way down the river bottom on the
left bank, where we found an excellent, plainly-beaten road.

On the 18th we reached Grand Island, which is fifty-two miles long, with
an average breadth of one mile and three-quarters. It has on it some small
eminences, and is sufficiently elevated to be secure from the annual
floods of the river. As has been already remarked, it is well timbered;
with an excellent soil, and recommends itself to notice as the best point
for a military position on the Lower Platte.

On the 22d we arrived at the village of the Grand Pawnees, on the right
bank of the river, about thirty miles above the mouth of the Loup fork.
They were gathering in their corn, and we obtained from them a very
welcome supply of vegetables.

The morning of the 24th we reached the Loup fork of the Platte. At the
place where we forded it, this stream was four hundred and thirty yards
broad, with a swift current of _clear_ water; in this respect,
differing from the Platte, which has a yellow muddy color, derived from
the limestone and marl formation, of which we have previously spoken. The
ford was difficult, as the water was so deep that it came into the body of
the carts, and we reached the opposite bank after repeated attempts,
ascending and descending the bed of the river, in order to avail ourselves
of the bars. We encamped on the left bank of the fork, in the point of
land at its junction with the Platte. During the two days that we remained
here for astronomical observations, the bad weather permitted us to obtain
but one good observation for the latitude--a meridian altitude of the sun,
which gave for the latitude of the mouth of the Loup fork, 41 deg. 22' 11".

Five or six days previously, I had sent forward C. Lambert, with two men,
to Bellevue, with directions to ask from Mr. P. Sarpy, the gentleman in
charge of the American Company's establishment at that place, the aid of
his carpenters in constructing a boat, in which I proposed to descend the
Missouri. On the afternoon of the 27th we met one of the men, who had been
dispatched by Mr. Sarpy with a welcome supply of provisions and a very
kind note, which gave us the very gratifying intelligence that our boat
was in rapid progress. On the evening of the 30th we encamped in an almost
impenetrable undergrowth on the left bank of the Platte, in the point of
land at its confluence with the Missouri--315 miles, according to our
reckoning, from the junction of the forks, and 520 from Fort Laramie. From
the junction we had found the bed of the Platte occupied with numerous
islands, many of them very large, and all well timbered; possessing, as
well as the bottom lands of the river, a very excellent soil. With the
exception of some scattered groves on the banks, the bottoms are generally
without timber. A portion of these consist of low grounds, covered with a
profusion of fine grasses, and are probably inundated in the spring; the
remaining part is high river prairie, entirely beyond the influence of the
floods. The breadth of the river is usually three-quarters of a mile,
except where it is enlarged by islands. That portion of its course which
is occupied by Grand island has an average breadth, from shore to shore,
of two and a half miles.



OCTOBER.


1st.--I rose this morning long before daylight, and heard with a feeling
of pleasure the tinkling of cow-bells at the settlements on the opposite
side of the Missouri. Early in the day we reached Mr. Sarpy's residence;
and, in the security and comfort of his hospitable mansion, felt the
pleasure of being within the pale of civilization. We found our boat on
the stocks; a few days sufficed to complete her; and, in the afternoon of
the 4th, we embarked on the Missouri. All our equipage--horses, carts, and
the _materiel_ of the camp--had been sold at public auction at
Bellevue. The strength of my party enabled me to man the boat with ten
oars, relieved every hour; and we descended rapidly. Early on the morning
of the 10th, we halted to make some astronomical observations at the mouth
of the Kansas, exactly four months since we had left the trading-post of
Mr. Cyprian Chouteau, on the same river, ten miles above. On our descent
to this place, we had employed ourselves in surveying and sketching the
Missouri, making astronomical observations regularly at night and at mid-
day, whenever the weather permitted. These operations on the river were
continued until our arrival at the city of St. Louis, Missouri, on the
17th. At St. Louis, the sale of our remaining effects was made; and,
leaving that city by steamboat on the 18th, I had the honor to report to
you at the city of Washington on the 29th of October.

Very respectfully, sir,
Your obedient servant,
J. C. FREMONT,
_2d Lieutenant Corps of Topographical Engineers._




*       *       *       *       *


ASTRONOMICAL OBSERVATIONS

_The Longitudes given in the subjoined Table are referred to the
meridian of Greenwich._

For the determination of astronomical positions, we were provided with the
following instruments:

One telescope, magnifying power 120.
One circle, by Gambey, Paris.
One sextant, by Gambey, Paris.
One sextant, by Troughton.
One box chronometer, No.7,810, by French.
One Brockbank pocket chronometer.
One small watch with a light chronometer balance, No.
4,632, by Arnold and Dent.

The rate of the chronometer, 7,810, is exhibited in the following statement:

"NEW YORK, May 5, 1842
"Chronometer No. 7,810, by French, is this day at noon--
"_Slow_ of Greenwich mean time,          11' 4"
"_Fast_ of New York mean time,        4_h._ 45' 1"
"Loses per day                                             2".7
"ARTHUR STEWART, 74 Merchants' Exchange."

An accident among some rough ground in the neighborhood of the Kansas
river, strained the balance of this chronometer, (No. 7,810) and rendered
it useless during the remainder of the campaign. From the 9th of June to
the 24th of August, inclusively, the longitudes depend upon the Brockbank
pocket chronometer; the rate of which, on leaving St. Louis, was fourteen
seconds. The rate obtained by observations at Fort Laramie, 14".05, has
been used in calculation.

From the 24th of August until the termination of the journey, No. 4,632
(of which the rate was 35".79) was used for the same purposes. The rate of
this watch was irregular, and I place little confidence in the few
longitudes which depend upon it, though, so far as we have any means of
judging, they appear tolerably correct.

_Table of Latitudes and Longitudes, deduced from Observations made
during the Journey._


Date    Station                Latitude.        Longitude.

1842                           Deg. min. sec.   Deg. min. sec.

May 27 St. Louis, residence
       of Colonel Brunt,.......38   37   34
June 8 Chouteau's lower
       trading-post; Kansas
       river,..................39   05   57     94   25   46
    16 Left bank of Kansas
       river. 7 miles above
       the ford,...............39   06   40     95   38   05
    18 Vermilion creek.........39   15   19     96   04   07
    19 Cold springs, near
         the road to Laramie,..39   30   40     96   14   49
    20 Big Blue river, ........39   45   08     96   32   35
    25 Little Blue river, .....40   26   50     98   22   12
    26 Right bank of Platte
       river,..................40   41   06     98   45   49
    27 Right bank of Platte
       river...................40   39   32     99   05   24
    28 Right bank of Platte
       river, .................40   39   51
    30 Right bank of Platte
       river...................40   39   55    100   05   47
July 2 Junction of north and
       south forks of the
       Nebraska or Platte
       river,..................41   05   05    100   49   43
     4 South fork of Platte
       river, left bank,
     6 South fork of Platte
       river, island...........40   51   17    103   07
     7 South fork of Platte
       river, left bank........40   53   26    103   30   37
    11 South fork of Platte
       river, St. Vrain's
       fort ,..................40   22   35    105   12   12
    12 Crow creek,.............40   41   59    104   57   49
    13 On a stream, name
       unknown ................41   08   30    104   39   37
    14 Horse creek. Goshen's
       hole? ..................41   40   13    104   24   36
    16 Fort Laramie, near
       the mouth of Laramie's
       fork, ..................42   12   10    104   47   43
    23 North fork of Platte
       river...................42   39   25    104   59   59
    24 North fork of Platte
       river...................42   47   40
    25 North fork of Platte
       river, Dried Meat camp..42   51   35    105   50   15
    26 North fork of Platte
       river, noon halt........42   50   08
    26 North fork of Platte
       river, mouth of Deer
       creek,..................42   52   24    106   08   24
    28 North fork of Platte
       river, Cache camp,......42   50   53    106   38   26
    29 North fork of Platte
       river, left bank........42   38   01    106   54   32
    30 North fork of Platte
       river, Goat island......42   33   27    107   13   29
Aug. 1 Sweet Water river,
       one mile below Rock
       Independence,...........42   29   56    107   25   23
     4 Sweet Water river.......42   32   31    108   30   13
     7 Sweet Water river.......42   27   15    109   21   32
     8 Little Sandy creek,
       tributary to the
       Colorado of the West,...42   27   34    109   37   59
     9 New fork, tributary to
       the Colorado,...........42   42   46    109   58   11
    10 Mountain lake,... ......42   49   49    110   08   03
    15 Highest peak of the
        Wind River mountains,
    19 Sweet Water, noon
       halt,...................42   24   32
    19 Sweet Water river,......42   22   22
    20 Sweet Water river,......42   31   46
    22 Sweet Water river,
       noon halt,..............42   26   10
    22 Sweet Water river,
       Rock Independence,......42   29   36
    23 North fork of Platte
       river, mouth of Sweet
       Water, .................42   27   18
    30 Horse-shoe creek,
       noon halt,..............42   24   24
Sept 3 North fork of Platte
       river, right bank,......42   01   40
     4 North fork of Platte
       river, near Scott's
       bluffs..................41   54   38
     5 North fork of Platte
       river, right bank,
       six miles above
       Chimney rock,...........41   43   36
     8 North fork of Platte
       river, mouth of Ash
       creek,..................41   17   19
     9 North fork of Platte
       river, right bank.......41   14   30
    10 North fork of Platte
       river, Cedar bluff,.....41   10   16
    16 Platte river, noon
       halt....................40   54   31
    16 Platte river, left
       bank, ..................40   52   74
    17 Platte river, left
       bank,...................40   42   38
    18 Platte river, left
       bank, ..................40   40   21
    19 Platte river, left
       bank....................40   39   44
    20 Platte river, noon
       halt, left bank, .......40   48   19
    20 Platte river, left
       bank,...................40   54   02
    21 Platte river, left
       bank ...................41   05   37
    23 Platte river, noon
       halt, left bank.........41   20   20
    23 Platte river, left
       bank ...................41   22   52
    25 Platte river, mouth
       of Loup fork,...........41   22   11
    28 Platte river, mouth
       of Elk Horn river.......41   09   34
    29 Platte river, left
       bank,...................41   02   15
Oct. 2 Bellevue, at the post
       of the American Fur
       Company, right bank of
       the Missouri river......41   08   24   95   20
     4 Left bank of the
       Missouri, opposite to
       the right bank of the
       mouth of the Platte.....41   02   11
     5 Missouri river,.........40   34   08
     6 Bertholet's island,
       noon halt,..............40   27   08
     6 Missouri river, mouth
       of Nishnabatona river, .40   16   40
     8 Missouri river, left
       bank ...................39   36   02
    10 Missouri river, mouth
       of the Kansas river.....39   06   03




*       *       *       *       *


A REPORT

OF

THE EXPLORING EXPEDITION

TO

OREGON AND NORTH CALIFORNIA,
IN THE YEARS 1843-'44.


Washington City, March 1, 1845

To Colonel J.J. ABERT, _Chief of the Corps of Top. Engineers:_

SIR:--In pursuance of your instructions, to connect the reconnoisance of
1842, which I had the honor to conduct, with the surveys of Commander
Wilkes on the coast of the Pacific ocean, so as to give a connected survey
of the interior of our continent, I proceeded to the Great West early in
the spring of 1843, and arrived, on the 17th of May, at the little town of
Kansas, on the Missouri frontier, near the junction of the Kansas river
with the Missouri river, where I was detained near two weeks in completing
the necessary preparations for the extended explorations which my
instructions contemplated.

My party consisted principally of Creole and Canadian French, and
Americans, amounting in all to thirty-nine men; among whom you will
recognise several of those who were with me in my first expedition, and
who have been favorably brought to your notice in a former report. Mr.
Thomas Fitzpatrick, whom many years of hardship and exposure, in the
western territories, had rendered familiar with a portion of the country
it was designed to explore, had been selected as our guide; and Mr.
Charles Preuss, who had been my assistant in a previous journey, was again
associated with me in the same capacity on the present expedition.
Agreeably to your directions, Mr. Theodore Talbot, of Washington city, had
been attached to the party, with a view to advancement in his profession;
and at St. Louis had been joined by Mr. Frederick Dwight, a gentleman of
Springfield, Massachusetts, who availed himself of our overland journey to
visit the Sandwich Islands and China, by way of Fort Vancouver.

The men engaged for the service were: Alexis Ayot, Francis Badeau, Oliver
Beaulieu, Baptiste Bernier, John A. Campbell, John G. Campbell, Manuel
Chapman, Ransom Clark, Philibert Courteau, Michel Crelis, William Creuss,
Clinton Deforest, Baptiste Derosier, Basil Lajeunesse, Francois
Lajeunesse, Henry Lee, Louis Menard, Louis Montreuil, Samuel Neal, Alexis
Pera, Francois Pera, James Power, Raphael Proue, Oscar Sarpy, Baptiste
Tabeau, Charles Taplin, Baptiste Tesson, Auguste Vasquez, Joseph Verrot,
Patrick White, Tiery Wright, Louis Zindel, and Jacob Dodson, a free young
colored man of Washington city, who volunteered to accompany the
expedition, and performed his duty manfully throughout the voyage. Two
Delaware Indians--a fine-looking old man and his son--were engaged to
accompany the expedition as hunters, through the kindness of Major
Cummins, the excellent Indian agent. L. Maxwell, who had accompanied the
expedition as one of the hunters in 1842, being on his way to Taos, in New
Mexico, also joined us at this place.

The party was generally armed with Hall's carbines, which with a brass
twelve-pound howitzer, had been furnished to me from the United States
arsenal at St. Louis, agreeably to the orders of Colonel S.W. Kearney,
commanding the third military division. Three men were especially detailed
for the management of this piece, under the charge of Louis Zindel, a
native of Germany, who had been nineteen years a non-commissioned officer
of artillery in the Prussian army, and regularly instructed in the duties
of his profession. The camp equipage and provisions were transported in
twelve carts, drawn each by two mules; and a light covered wagon, mounted
on good springs, had been provided for the safer carriage of instruments.
These were:

One refracting telescope, by Frauenhofer.
One reflecting circle, by Gambey.
Two sextants, by Troughton.
One pocket chronometer, No. 837, by Goffe, Falmouth.
One pocket chronometer, No. 739, by Brockbank.
One syphon barometer, by Bunten, Paris.
One cistern barometer, by Frye and Shaw, New York.
Six thermometers, and a number of small compasses.

To make the exploration as useful as possible, I determined, in conformity
to your general instructions, to vary the route to the Rocky mountains
from that followed in 1842. The route was then up the valley of the Great
Platte river to the South Pass, in north latitude 42 deg.; the route now
determined on was up the valley of the Kansas river, and to the head of
the Arkansas river, and to some pass in the mountains, if any could be
found, at the sources of that river.

By making this deviation from the former route, the problem of a new road
to Oregon and California, in a climate more genial, might be solved; and a
better knowledge obtained of an important river, and the country it
drained, while the great object of the expedition would find its point of
commencement at the termination of the former, which was at that great
gate in the ridge of the Rocky mountains called the South Pass, and on the
lofty peak of the mountain which overlooks it, deemed the highest peak in
the ridge, and from the opposite side of which four great rivers take
their rise, and flow to the Pacific or the Mississippi.

Various obstacles delayed our departure until the morning of the 29th,
when we commenced our long voyage; and at the close of a day, rendered
disagreeably cold by incessant rain, encamped about four miles beyond the
frontier, on the verge of the great prairies.

Resuming our journey on the 31st, after the delay of a day to complete our
equipment and furnish ourselves with some of the comforts of civilized
life, we encamped in the evening at Elm Grove, in company with several
emigrant wagons, constituting a party which was proceeding to Upper
California, under the direction of Mr. J.B. Childs, of Missouri. The
wagons were variously freighted with goods, furniture, and farming
utensils, containing among other things an entire set of machinery for a
mill which Mr. Childs designed erecting on the waters of the Sacramento
river, emptying into the bay of San Francisco.

We were joined here by Mr. Wm. Gilpin of Mo., who, intending this year to
visit the settlements in Oregon, had been invited to accompany us, and
proved a useful and agreeable addition to the party.


JUNE.


From Elm Grove, our route until the third of June was nearly the same as
that described to you in 1842. Trains of wagons were almost constantly in
sight; giving to the road a populous and animated appearance, although the
greater portion of the emigrants were collected at the crossing, or
already on their march beyond the Kansas river. Leaving at the ford the
usual emigrant road to the mountains, we continued our route along the
southern side of the Kansas, where we found the country much more broken
than on the northern side of the river, and where our progress was much
delayed by the numerous small streams, which obliged us to make frequent
bridges. On the morning of the 4th we crossed a handsome stream, called by
the Indians Otter creek, about 130 feet wide, where a flat stratum of
limestone, which forms the bed, made an excellent ford. We met here a
small party of Kansas and Delaware Indians, the latter returning from a
hunting and trapping expedition on the upper waters of the river; and on
the heights above were five or six Kansas women, engaged in digging
prairie potatoes, (_psoralea esculenta_.) On the afternoon of the
6th, whilst busily engaged in crossing a wooded stream, we were thrown
into a little confusion by the sudden arrival of Maxwell, who entered the
camp at full speed at the head of a war party of Osage Indians, with gay
red blankets, and heads shaved to the scalp lock. They had run him a
distance of about nine miles, from a creek on which we had encamped the
day previous, and to which he had returned in search of a runaway horse
belonging to Mr. Dwight, which had taken the homeward road, carrying with
him saddle, bridle, and holster-pistols. The Osages were probably ignorant
of our strength, and, when they charged into the camp, drove off a number
of our best horses; but we were fortunately well mounted, and, after a
hard chase of seven or eight miles, succeeded in recovering them all. This
accident, which occasioned delay and trouble, and threatened danger and
loss, and broke down some good horses at the start, and actually
endangered the expedition, was a first fruit of having gentlemen in
company--very estimable, to be sure, but who are not trained to the care
and vigilance and self-dependence which such an expedition required, and
who are not subject to the orders which enforce attention and exertion. We
arrived on the 8th at the mouth of the Smoky-hill fork, which is the
principal southern branch of the Kansas; forming here, by its junction
with the Republican, or northern branch, the main Kansas river. Neither
stream was fordable, and the necessity of making a raft, together with bad
weather, detained us here until the morning of the 11th; when we resumed
our journey along the Republican fork. By our observations, the junction
of the streams is in lat. 39 deg. 30' 38", long. 96 deg. 24' 36", and at an
elevation of 926 feet above the Gulf of Mexico. For several days we
continued to travel along the Republican, through a country beautifully
watered with numerous streams, and handsomely timbered; and rarely an
incident occurred to vary the monotonous resemblance which one day on the
prairies here bears to another, and which scarcely require a particular
description. Now and then, we caught a glimpse of a small herd of elk; and
occasionally a band of antelopes, whose curiosity sometimes brought them
within rifle range, would circle round us and then scour off into the
prairies. As we advanced on our road, these became more frequent; but as
we journeyed on the line usually followed by the trapping and hunting
parties of the Kansas and Delaware Indians, game of every kind continued
very shy and wild. The bottoms which form the immediate valley of the main
river were generally about three miles wide; having a rich soil of black
vegetable mould, and, for a prairie country, well interspersed with wood.
The country was everywhere covered with a considerable variety of grasses,
occasionally poor and thin, but far more frequently luxuriant and rich. We
had been gradually and regularly ascending in our progress westward, and
on the evening of the 14th, when we encamped on a little creek in the
valley of the Republican, 265 miles by our traveling road from the mouth
of the Kansas, we were at an elevation of 1,520 feet. That part of the
river where we were now encamped is called by the Indians the _Big
Timber_. Hitherto our route had been laborious and extremely slow, the
unusually wet spring and constant rain having so saturated the whole
country that it was necessary to bridge every water-course, and, for days
together, our usual march averaged only five or six miles. Finding that at
such a rate of travel it would be impossible to comply with your
instructions, I determined at this place to divide the party, and, leaving
Mr. Fitzpatrick with twenty-five men in charge of the provisions and
heavier baggage of the camp, to proceed myself in advance, with a light
party of fifteen men, taking with me the howitzer and the light wagon
which carried the instruments.

Accordingly, on the morning of the 16th, the parties separated; and,
bearing a little out from the river, with a view of heading some of the
numerous affluents, after a few hours' travel over somewhat broken ground,
we entered upon an extensive and high level prairie, on which we encamped
towards evening at a little stream, where a single dry cottonwood afforded
the necessary fuel for preparing supper. Among a variety of grasses which
to-day made their first appearance, I noticed bunch-grass,
(_festuca_,) and buffalo-grass, (_sesleria dactlyloides_.)
Amorpha canescens (_lead plant_) continued the characteristic plant
of the country, and a narrow-leaved _lathyrus_ occurred during the
morning, in beautiful patches. _Sida coccinea_ occurred frequently,
with a _psoralea_ near _psoralea floribunda_, and a number of
plants not hitherto met, just verging into bloom. The water on which we
had encamped belonged to Solomon's fort of the Smoky-hill river, along
whose tributaries we continued to travel for several days.

The country afforded us an excellent road, the route being generally over
high and very level prairies; and we met with no other delay than being
frequently obliged to bridge one of the numerous streams, which were well
timbered with ash, elm, cottonwood, and a very large oak--the latter being
occasionally five and six feet in diameter, with a spreading summit.
_Sida coccinea_ is very frequent in vermilion-colored patches on the
high and low prairie; and I remarked that it has a very pleasant perfume.

The wild sensitive plant (_schrankia angustata_) occurs frequently,
generally on the dry prairies, in valleys of streams, and frequently on
the broken prairie bank. I remark that the leaflets close instantly to a
very light touch. _Amorpha_, with the same _psoralea_, and a
dwarf species of _lupinus_, are the characteristic plants.

On the 19th, in the afternoon, we crossed the Pawnee road to the Arkansas,
and traveling a few miles onward, the monotony of the prairies was
suddenly dispelled by the appearance of five or six buffalo bulls, forming
a vanguard of immense herds, among which we were traveling a few days
afterwards. Prairie dogs were seen for the first time during the day; and
we had the good fortune to obtain an antelope for supper. Our elevation
had now increased to 1,900 feet. _Sida coccinea_ was the
characteristic on the creek bottoms, and buffalo grass is becoming
abundant on the higher parts of the ridges.

21st.--During the forenoon we traveled up a branch of the creek on which
we had encamped, in a broken country, where, however, the dividing ridges
always afforded a good road. Plants were few; and with the short sward of
the buffalo-grass, which now prevailed everywhere, giving to the prairies
a smooth and mossy appearance, were mingled frequent patches of a
beautiful red grass, (_aristida pallens_,) which had made its
appearance only within the last few days.

We halted to noon at a solitary cottonwood in a hollow, near which was
killed the first buffalo, a large old bull.

Antelope appeared in bands during the day. Crossing here to the affluents
of the Republican, we encamped on a fork, about forty feet wide and one
foot deep, flowing with a swift current over a sandy bed, and well wooded
with ash-leaved maple, (_negundo fraxinifolium_,) elm, cottonwood,
and a few white oaks. We were visited in the evening by a very violent
storm, accompanied by wind, lightning, and thunder; a cold rain falling in
torrents. According to the barometer, our elevation was 2,130 feet above
the gulf.

At noon, on the 23d, we descended into the valley of a principal fork of
the Republican, a beautiful stream with a dense border of wood, consisting
principally of varieties of ash, forty feet wide and four deep. It was
musical with the notes of many birds, which, from the vast expanse of
silent prairie around, seemed all to have collected here. We continued
during the afternoon our route along the river, which was populous with
prairie dogs, (the bottoms being entirely occupied with their villages,)
and late in the evening encamped on its banks. The prevailing timber is a
blue-foliaged ash, (_fraxinus_, near _F. Americana_,) and ash-
leaved maple. With these were _fraxinus Americana_, cottonwood, and
long-leaved willow. We gave to this stream the name of Prairie Dog river.
Elevation 2,350 feet. Our road on the 25th lay over high smooth ridges,
3,100 feet above the sea; buffalo in great numbers, absolutely covering
the face of the country. At evening we encamped within a few miles of the
main Republican, on a little creek, where the air was fragrant with the
perfume of _artemisia filifolia_, which we here saw for the first
time, and which was now in bloom. Shortly after leaving our encampment on
the 26th, we found suddenly that the nature of the country had entirely
changed. Bare sand-hills everywhere surrounded us in the undulating ground
along which we were moving, and the plants peculiar to a sandy soil made
their appearance in abundance. A few miles further we entered the valley
of a large stream, afterwards known to be the Republican fork of the
Kansas, whose shallow waters, with a depth of only a few inches, were
spread out over a bed of yellowish white sand 600 yards wide. With the
exception of one or two distant and detached groves, no timber of any kind
was to be seen; and the features of the country assumed a desert
character, with which the broad river, struggling for existence among the
quicksands along the treeless banks, was strikingly in keeping. On the
opposite side, the broken ridges assumed almost a mountainous appearance;
and fording the stream, we continued on our course among these ridges, and
encamped late in the evening at a little pond of very bad water, from
which we drove away a herd of buffalo that were standing in and about it.
Our encampment this evening was 3,500 feet above the sea. We traveled now
for several days through a broken and dry sandy region, about 4,000 feet
above the sea, where there were no running streams; and some anxiety was
constantly felt on account of the uncertainty of water, which was only to
be found in small lakes that occurred occasionally among the hills. The
discovery of these always brought pleasure to the camp, as around them
were generally green flats, which afforded abundant pasturage for our
animals; and here we usually collected herds of the buffalo, which now
were scattered over all the country in countless numbers.

The soil of bare and hot sands supported a varied and exuberant growth of
plants, which were much farther advanced than we had previously found
them, and whose showy bloom somewhat relieved the appearance of general
sterility. Crossing the summit of an elevated and continuous range of
rolling hills, on the afternoon of the 30th of June, we found ourselves
overlooking a broad and misty valley, where, about ten miles distant, and
1,000 feet below us, the South fork of the Platte was rolling
magnificently along, swollen with the waters of the melting snows. It was
in strong and refreshing contrast with the parched country from which we
had just issued; and when, at night, the broad expanse of water grew
indistinct, it almost seemed that we had pitched our tents on the shore of
the sea.



JULY.


Traveling along up the valley of the river, here 4,000 feet above the sea,
in the afternoon of July 1, we caught a far and uncertain view of a faint
blue mass in the west, as the sun sank behind it; and from our camp in the
morning, at the mouth of Bijou, Long's peak and the neighboring mountains
stood out into the sky, grand and luminously white, covered to their bases
with glittering snow.

On the evening of the 3d, as we were journeying along the partially
overflowed bottoms of the Platte, where our passage stirred up swarms of
musquitoes, we came unexpectedly on an Indian, who was perched upon a
bluff, curiously watching the movements of our caravan. He belonged to a
village of Oglallah Sioux, who had lost all their animals in the severity
of the preceding winter, and were now on their way up the Bijou fork to
beg horses from the Arapahoes, who were hunting buffalo at the head of
that river. Several came into our camp at noon; and, as they were hungry,
as usual, they were provided with buffalo-meat, of which the hunters had
brought in an abundant supply.

About noon, on the 4th of July, we arrived at the fort, where Mr. St.
Vrain received us with his customary kindness, and invited us to join him
in a feast which had been prepared in honor of the day.

Our animals were very much worn out, and our stock of provisions entirely
exhausted, when we arrived at the fort; but I was disappointed in my hope
of obtaining relief, as I found it in a very impoverished condition; and
we were able to procure only a little unbolted Mexican flour, and some
salt, with a few pounds of powder and lead.

As regarded provisions, it did not much matter in a country where rarely
the day passed without seeing some kind of game, and where it was
frequently abundant. It was a rare thing to lie down hungry, and we had
already learned to think bread a luxury; but we could not proceed without
animals, and our own were not capable of prosecuting the journey beyond
the mountains without relief.

I had been informed that a large number of mules had recently arrived at
Taos, from Upper California; and as our friend, Mr. Maxwell, was about to
continue his journey to that place, where a portion of his family resided,
I engaged him to purchase for me ten or twelve mules, with the
understanding that he should pack them with provisions and other
necessaries, and meet me at the mouth of the _Fontaine-qui-bouit_, on
the Arkansas river, to which point I would be led in the course of the
survey.

Agreeably to his own request, and in the conviction that his habits of
life and education had not qualified him to endure the hard life of a
voyageur, I discharged here one of my party, Mr. Oscar Sarpy, having
furnished him with arms and means of transportation to Fort Laramie, where
he would be in the line of caravans returning to the States.

At daybreak, on the 6th of July, Maxwell was on his way to Taos; and a few
hours after we also had recommenced our journey up the Platte, which was
continuously timbered with cottonwood and willow, on a generally sandy
soil. Passing on the way the remains of two abandoned forts, (one of
which, however, was still in good condition,) we reached, in ten miles,
Fort Lancaster, the trading establishment of Mr. Lupton.

His post was beginning to assume the appearance of a comfortable farm:
stock, hogs, and cattle, were ranging about on the prairie--there were
different kinds of poultry; and there was a wreck of a promising garden,
in which a considerable variety of vegetables had been in a flourishing
condition; but it had been almost entirely ruined by the recent high
waters. I remained to spend with him an agreeable hour, and set off in a
cold storm of rain, which was accompanied with violent thunder and
lightning. We encamped immediately on the river, sixteen miles from St.
Vrain's. Several Arapahoes, on their way to the village which was encamped
a few miles above us, passed by the camp in the course of the afternoon.
Night set in stormy and cold, with heavy and continuous rain, which lasted
until morning.

7th.--We made this morning an early start, continuing to travel up the
Platte; and in a few miles frequent bands of horses and mules, scattered
for several miles round about, indicated our approach to the Arapaho
village, which we found encamped in a beautiful bottom, and consisting of
about one hundred and sixty lodges. It appeared extremely populous, with a
great number of children--a circumstance which indicated a regular supply
of the means of subsistence. The chiefs, who were gathered together at the
farther end of the village, received us (as probably strangers are always
received to whom they desire to show respect or regard) by throwing their
arms around our necks and embracing us.

It required some skill in horsemanship to keep the saddle during the
performance of this ceremony, as our American horses exhibited for them
the same fear they have for a bear, or any other wild animal. Having very
few goods with me, I was only able to make them a meager present,
accounting for the poverty of the gift by explaining that my goods had
been left with the wagons in charge of Mr. Fitzpatrick, who was well known
to them as the White Head, or the Broken Hand. I saw here, as I had
remarked in an Arapaho village the preceding year, near the lodges of the
chiefs; tall tripods of white poles supporting their spears and shields,
which showed it to be a regular custom.

Though disappointed in obtaining the presents which had been evidently
expected, they behaved very courteously; and, after a little conversation,
I left them, and, continuing on up the river, halted to noon on the bluff,
as the bottoms are almost inundated; continuing in the afternoon our route
along the mountains, which were dark, misty, and shrouded--threatening a
storm; the snow peaks sometimes glittering through the clouds beyond the
first ridge.

We surprised a grizzly bear sauntering along the river, which, raising
himself upon his hind legs, took a deliberate survey of us, that did not
appear very satisfactory to him, and he scrambled into the river and swam
to the opposite side. We halted for the night a little above Cherry creek;
the evening cloudy, with many musquitoes. Some indifferent observations
placed the camp in lat. 39 deg. 43' 53", and chronometric long. 105 deg. 24' 34".

8th.--We continued to-day to travel up the Platte: the morning pleasant,
with a prospect of fairer weather. During the forenoon our way lay over a
more broken country, with a gravelly and sandy surface; although the
immediate bottom of the river was a good soil, of a dark and sandy mould,
resting upon a stratum of large pebbles, or rolled stones, as at Laramie
fork. On our right, and apparently very near, but probably 8 or 10 miles
distant, and two or three thousand feet above us, ran the first range of
the mountains, like a dark corniced line, in clear contrast with the great
snowy chain which, immediately beyond, rose glittering five thousand feet
above them. We caught this morning a view of Pike's peak; but it appeared
for a moment only, as clouds rose early over the mountains, and shrouded
them in mist and rain all the day. In the first range were visible, as at
the Red Buttes on the North fork, very lofty escarpments of red rock.
While traveling through this region, I remarked that always in the morning
the lofty peaks were visible and bright, but very soon small white clouds
began to settle around them--brewing thicker and thicker as the day
advanced, until the afternoon, when the thunder began to roll; and
invariably at evening we had more or less of a thunder storm. At 11
o'clock, and 21 miles from St. Vrain's fort, we reached a point in this
southern fork of the Platte, where the stream is divided into three forks;
two of these (one of them being much the largest) issuing directly from
the mountains on the west, and forming, with the eastern-most branch, a
river of the plains. The elevation of this point is about 5,500 feet above
the sea; this river falling 2,800 feet in a distance of 316 miles, to its
junction with the North fork of the Platte. In this estimate, the
elevation of the junction is assumed as given by our barometrical
observations in 1842. On the easternmost branch, up which we took our way,
we first came among the pines growing on the top of a very high bank, and
where we halted on it to noon; quaking asp (_populus tremuloides_)
was mixed with the cottonwood, and there were excellent grass and rushes
for the animals.

During the morning there occurred many beautiful flowers, which we had not
hitherto met. Among them, the common blue flowering flax made its first
appearance; and a tall and handsome species of _gilia_, with slender
scarlet flowers, which appeared yesterday for the first time, was very
frequent to-day.

We had found very little game since leaving the fort, and provisions began
to get unpleasantly scant, as we had had no meat for several days; but
towards sundown, when we had already made up our minds to sleep another
night without supper, Lajeunesse had the good fortune to kill a fine deer,
which he found feeding in a hollow near by; and as the rain began to fall,
threatening an unpleasant night, we hurried to secure a comfortable camp
in the timber.

To-night the camp fires, girdled with _appolas_ of fine venison,
looked cheerful in spite of the stormy weather.

9th.--On account of the low state of our provisions and the scarcity of
game, I determined to vary our route, and proceed several camps to the
eastward, in the hope of falling in with the buffalo. This route along the
dividing grounds between the South fork of the Platte and the Arkansas,
would also afford some additional geographical information. This morning,
therefore, we turned to the eastward, along the upper waters of the stream
on which we had encamped, entering a country of picturesque and varied
scenery; broken into rocky hills of singular shapes; little valleys, with
pure crystal water, here leaping swiftly along, and there losing itself in
the sands; green spots of luxuriant grass, flowers of all colors, and
timber of different kinds--every thing to give it a varied beauty, except
game. To one of these remarkably shaped hills, having on the summit a
circular flat rock two or three hundred yards in circumference, some one
gave the name of Poundcake, which it has been permitted to retain, as our
hungry people seemed to think it a very agreeable comparison. In the
afternoon a buffalo bull was killed, and we encamped on a small stream,
near the road which runs from St. Vrain's fort to the Arkansas.

10th:--Snow fell heavily on the mountains during the night, and Pike's
peak this morning is luminous and grand, covered from the summit, as low
down as we can see, with glittering white. Leaving the encampment at 6
o'clock, we continued our easterly course over a rolling country, near to
the high ridges, which are generally rough and rocky, with a coarse
conglomerate displayed in masses, and covered with pines. The rock is very
friable, and it is undoubtedly from its decomposition that the prairies
derive their sandy and gravelly formation. In six miles we crossed a head-
water of the Kioway river, on which we found a strong fort and
_coral_ that had been built in the spring, and halted to noon on the
principal branch of the river. During the morning our route led over a
dark and vegetable mould, mixed with sand and gravel, the characteristic
plant being _esparcette_, (_onobrychis sativa_,) a species of
clover which is much used in certain parts of Germany for pasturage of
stock--principally hogs. It is sown on rocky waste ground, which would
otherwise be useless, and grows very luxuriantly, requiring only a renewal
of the seed about once in fifteen years. Its abundance here greatly adds
to the pastoral value of this region. A species of antennaria in flower
was very common along the line of road, and the creeks were timbered with
willow and pine. We encamped on Bijou's fork, the water of which, unlike
the clear streams we had previously crossed, is of a whitish color, and
the soil of the bottom a very hard, tough clay. There was a prairie dog
village on the bottom, and, in the endeavor to unearth one of the little
animals, we labored ineffectually in the tough clay until dark. After
descending, with a slight inclination, until it had gone the depth of two
feet, the hole suddenly turned at a sharp angle in another direction for
one more foot in depth, when it again turned, taking an ascending
direction to the next nearest hole. I have no doubt that all their little
habitations communicate with each other. The greater part of the people
were sick to-day, and I was inclined to attribute their indisposition to
the meat of the bull which had been killed the previous day.

11th.--There were no indications of buffalo having been recently in the
neighborhood; and, unwilling to travel farther eastward, I turned this
morning to the southward, up the valley of Bijou. _Esparcette_
occurred universally, and among the plants on the river I noticed, for the
first time during this journey, a few small bushes of the _absinthe_
of the voyageurs, which is commonly used for firewood, (_artemesia
tridentata_.) Yesterday and to-day the road has been ornamented with
the showy bloom of a beautiful lupinus, a characteristic in many parts of
the mountain region, on which were generally great numbers of an insect
with very bright colors, (_litta vesicatoria_.)

As we were riding quietly along, eagerly searching every hollow in search
of game, we discovered, at a little distance in the prairie, a large
grizzly bear, so busily engaged in digging roots that he did not perceive
us until we were galloping down a little hill fifty yards from him, when
he charged upon us with such sudden energy that several of us came near
losing our saddles. Being wounded, he commenced retreating to a rocky piny
ridge near by, from which we were not able to cut him off, and we entered
the timber with him. The way was very much blocked up with fallen timber;
and we kept up a running fight for some time, animated by the bear
charging among the horses. He did not fall until after he had received six
rifle balls. He was miserably poor, and added nothing to our stock of
provisions.

We followed the stream to its head in a broken ridge, which, according to
the barometer, was about 7,500 feet above the sea. This is a piny
elevation, into which the prairies are gathered, and from which the waters
flow, in almost every direction, to the Arkansas, Platte, and Kansas
rivers; the latter stream having here its remotest sources. Although
somewhat rocky and broken, and covered with pines, in comparison with the
neighboring mountains, it scarcely forms an interruption to the great
prairie plains which sweep up to their bases.

We had an excellent view of Pike's peak from this camp, at the distance of
forty miles. This mountain barrier presents itself to travelers on the
plains, which sweep almost directly to its bases--an immense and
comparatively smooth and grassy prairie, in very strong contrast with the
black masses of timber, and the glittering snow above them. With
occasional exceptions, comparatively so very small as not to require
mention, these prairies are everywhere covered with a close and vigorous
growth of a great variety of grasses, among which the most abundant is the
buffalo grass, (_sesleria dactyloides_.) Between the Platte and
Arkansas rivers, that part of this region which forms the basin drained by
the waters of the Kansas, with which our operations made us more
particularly acquainted, is based upon a formation of calcareous rocks.
The soil of all this country is excellent, admirably adapted to
agricultural purposes, and would support a large agricultural and pastoral
population. A glance at the map, along our several lines of travel, will
show you that this plain is watered by many streams. Throughout the
western half of the plain, these are shallow, with sandy beds, becoming
deeper as they reach the richer lands approaching the Missouri river; they
generally have bottom lands, bordered by bluffs varying from fifty to five
hundred feet in height. In all this region the timber is entirely confined
to the streams. In the eastern half, where the soil is a deep, rich,
vegetable mould, retentive of rain and moisture, it is of vigorous growth,
and of many different kinds; and throughout the western half it consists
entirely of various species of cottonwood, which deserves to be called the
tree of the desert--growing in sandy soils, where no other tree will grow
--pointing out the existence of water, and furnishing to the traveler fuel,
and food for his animals. Add to this that the western border of the plain
is occupied by the Sioux, Arapaho, and Cheyenne nations, with the Pawnees
and other half-civilized tribes in its eastern limits, for whom the
intermediate country is a war-ground, and you will have a tolerably
correct idea of the appearance and condition of the country. Descending a
somewhat precipitous and rocky hillside among the pines, which rarely
appear elsewhere than on the ridge, we encamped at its foot, where there
were several springs, which you will find laid down upon the map as one of
the extreme sources of the Smoky Hill fork of the Kansas. From this place
the view extended over the Arkansas valley, and the Spanish peaks in the
south beyond. As the greater part of the men continued sick, I encamped
here for the day, and ascertained conclusively, from experiments on
myself, that their illness was caused by the meat of the buffalo bull.

On the summit of the ridge, near the camp, were several rock-built forts,
which in front were very difficult of approach, and in the rear were
protected by a precipice entirely beyond the reach of a rifle-ball. The
evening was tolerably clear, with a temperature at sunset of 63 deg..
Elevation of the camp seven thousand and three hundred feet.

Turning the next day to the southwest, we reached, in the course of the
morning, the wagon-road to the settlements on the Arkansas river, and
encamped in the afternoon on the _Fontaine-qui-bouit_ (or Boiling
Spring) river, where it was fifty feet wide, with a swift current. I
afterwards found that the spring and river owe their names to the bubbling
of the effervescing gas in the former, and not to the temperature of the
water, which is cold. During the morning a tall species of _gilia_,
with a slender white flower, was characteristic; and, in the latter part
of the day, another variety of _esparcette_, (wild clover,) having
the flower white, was equally so. We had a fine sunset of golden brown;
and in the evening, a very bright moon, with the near mountains, made a
beautiful scene. Thermometer, at sunset, was 69 deg., and our elevation above
the sea 5,800 feet.

13th.--The morning was clear, with a northwesterly breeze, and the
thermometer at sunrise at 46 deg.. There were no clouds along the mountains,
and the morning sun showed very clearly their rugged character.

We resumed our journey very early down the river, following an extremely
good lodge-trail, which issues by the head of this stream from the bayou
Salade, a high mountain valley behind Pike's peak. The soil along the road
was sandy and gravelly, and the river well timbered. We halted to noon
under the shade of some fine large cottonwoods, our animals luxuriating on
rushes, (_equisetum hyemale_,) which, along this river, were
remarkably abundant. A variety of cactus made its appearance, and among
several strange plants were numerous and beautiful clusters of a plant
resembling _mirabilis jalapa_, with a handsome convolvulus I had not
hitherto seen, (_calystegia_.) In the afternoon we passed near the
encampment of a hunter named Maurice, who had been out into the plains in
pursuit of buffalo calves, a number of which I saw among some domestic
cattle near his lodge. Shortly afterwards, a party of mountaineers
galloped up to us--fine-looking and hardy men, dressed in skins, and
mounted on good fat horses; among them were several Connecticut men, a
portion of Wyeth's party, whom I had seen the year before, and others were
men from the western states.

Continuing down the river, we encamped at noon on the 14th, at its mouth,
on the Arkansas river. A short distance above our encampment, on the left
bank of the Arkansas, is a _pueblo_, (as the Mexicans call their
civilized Indian villages,) where a number of mountaineers, who had
married Spanish women in the valley of Taos, had collected together and
occupied themselves in farming, carrying on at the same time a desultory
Indian trade. They were principally Americans, and treated us with all the
rude hospitality their situation admitted; but as all commercial
intercourse with New Mexico was now interrupted, in consequence of Mexican
decrees to that effect, there was nothing to be had in the way of
provisions. They had, however, a fine stock of cattle, and furnished us an
abundance of excellent milk. I learned here that Maxwell, in company with
two other men, had started for Taos on the morning of the 9th, but that he
would probably fall into the hands of the Utah Indians, commonly called
the _Spanish Yutes_. As Maxwell had no knowledge of their being in
the vicinity when he crossed the Arkansas, his chance of escape was very
doubtful; but I did not entertain much apprehension for his life, having
great confidence in his prudence and courage. I was further informed that
there had been a popular tumult among the _pueblos_, or civilized
Indians, residing near Taos, against the "_foreigners_" of that
place; in which they had plundered their houses and ill-treated their
families. Among those whose property had been destroyed, was Mr. Beaubien,
father-in-law of Maxwell, from whom I had expected to obtain supplies, and
who had been obliged to make his escape to Santa Fe.

By this position of affairs, our expectation of obtaining supplies from
Taos was cut off. I had here the satisfaction to meet our good buffalo-
hunter of 1842, Christopher Carson, whose services I considered myself
fortunate to secure again; and as a reinforcement of mules was absolutely
necessary, I dispatched him immediately, with an account of our
necessities, to Mr. Charles Bent, whose principal post is on the Arkansas
river, about seventy-five miles below _Fontaine-qui-bouit_. He was
directed to proceed from that post by the nearest route across the
country, and meet me, with what animals he should be able to obtain, at
St. Vrain's fort. I also admitted into the party Charles Towns, a native
of St. Louis, a serviceable man, with many of the qualities of a good
voyageur. According to our observations, the latitude of the mouth of the
river is 38 deg. 15' 23", its longitude 104 deg. 58' 30", and its elevation above
the sea 4,880 feet.

On the morning of the 16th, the time for Maxwell's arrival having expired,
we resumed our journey, leaving for him a note, in which it was stated
that I would wait for him at St. Vrain's fort, until the morning of the
26th, in the event that he should succeed in his commission. Our direction
was up the Boiling Spring river, it being my intention to visit the
celebrated springs from which the river takes its name, and which are on
its upper waters, at the foot of Pike's peak. Our animals fared well while
we were on this stream, there being everywhere a great abundance of
_prele_. _Ipomea leptophylla_ in bloom, was a characteristic
plant along the river, generally in large bunches, with two to five
flowers on each. Beautiful clusters of the plant resembling _mirabilis
jalapa_ were numerous, and _glycyrrhiza lepidota_ was a
characteristic of the bottoms. Currants nearly ripe were abundant, and
among the shrubs which covered the bottom was a very luxuriant growth of
chenopodiaceous shrubs, four to six feet high. On the afternoon of the
17th we entered among the broken ridges at the foot of the mountains,
where the river made several forks. Leaving the camp to follow slowly, I
rode ahead in the afternoon in search of the springs. In the meantime, the
clouds, which had been gathered all the afternoon over the mountains,
began to roll down their sides; and a storm so violent burst upon me, that
it appeared I had entered the storehouse of the thunder-storms. I
continued, however, to ride along up the river until about sunset, and was
beginning to be doubtful of finding the springs before the next day, when
I came suddenly upon a large smooth rock, about twenty yards in diameter,
where the water from several springs was bubbling and boiling up in the
midst of a white incrustation, with which it had covered a portion of the
rock. As this did not correspond with the description given the by the
hunters, I did not stop to taste the water, but dismounting, walked a
little way up the river, and, passing through a narrow thicket of
shrubbery bordering the stream, stepped directly upon a huge white rock,
at the foot of which the river, already become a torrent, foamed along,
broken by a small fall. A deer which had been drinking at the spring was
startled by my approach, and, springing across the river, bounded off up
the mountain. In the upper part of the rock, which had apparently been
formed by deposition, was a beautiful white basin, overhung by currant
bushes, in which the cold clear water bubbled up, kept in constant motion
by the escaping gas, and overflowing the rock, which it had almost
entirely covered with a smooth crust of glistening white. I had all day
refrained from drinking, reserving myself for the spring; and as I could
not well be more wet than the rain had already made me, I lay down by the
side of the basin, and drank heartily of the delightful water. The spring
is situated immediately at the foot of lofty mountains, beautifully
timbered, which sweep closely round, shutting up the little valley in a
kind of cove. As it was beginning to grow dark, I rode quickly down the
river, on which I found the camp a few miles below.

The morning of the 18th was beautiful and clear; and, all the people being
anxious to drink of these famous waters, we encamped immediately at the
springs, and spent there a very pleasant day. On the opposite side of the
river is another locality of springs, which are entirely of same nature.
The water has a very agreeable taste, which Mr. Preuss found very much to
resemble that of the famous Selter springs in the grand duchy of Nassau, a
country famous for wine and mineral waters; and it is almost entirely of
the same character, though still more agreeable than that of the famous
Bear springs, near Bear river of the Great Salt lake. The following is an
analysis of an incrustation with which the water had covered a piece of
wood lying on the rock:

Carbonate of lime, ----------92.25
Carbonate of magnesia, ------ 1.21

Sulphate of lime,------}
Chloride of calcium,   }-----  .23
Chloride of magnesia,--}

Silica, --------------------- 1.50
Vegetable matter, -----------  .20
Moisture and loss, ---------- 4.61
                            ______
                            100.00

At eleven o'clock, when the temperature of the air was 73 deg., that of the
water in this was 60.5 deg.; and that of the upper spring, which issued from
the flat rock, more exposed to the sun, was 69 deg.. At sunset, when the
temperature of the air was 66 deg., that of the lower springs was 58 deg., and
that of the upper 61 deg..

19th.--A beautiful and clear morning, with a slight breeze from the
northwest; the temperature of the air at sunrise being 57.5 deg.. At this time
the temperature of the lower spring was 57.8 deg., springs was 58 deg., and that
of the upper 54.3 deg..

The trees in the neighborhood were birch, willow, pine, and an oak
resembling _quercus alba_. In the shrubbery along the river are
currant bushes, (_ribes_,) of which the fruit has a singular piny
flavor; and on the mountain side, in a red gravelly soil, is a remarkable
coniferous tree, (perhaps an _abies_,) having the leaves singularly
long, broad and scattered, with bushes of _spiraea ariaefolia_. By
our observations, this place is 6,350 feet above the sea, in latitude 38 deg.
52' 10", and longitude 105 deg. 22' 45".

Resuming our journey on this morning, we descended the river, in order to
reach the mouth of the eastern fork, which I proposed to ascend. The left
bank of the river here is very much broken. There is a handsome little
bottom on the right, and both banks are exceedingly picturesque--strata of
red rock, in nearly perpendicular walls, crossing the valley from north to
south. About three miles below the springs, on the right bank of the
river, is a nearly perpendicular limestone rock, presenting a uniformly
unbroken surface, twenty to forty feet high, containing very great numbers
of a large univalve shell; which appears to belong to the genus
_inoceramus_.

In contact with this, to the westward, was another, stratum of limestone,
containing fossil shells of a different character; and still higher up on
the stream were parallel strata, consisting of a compact somewhat
crystalline limestone, and argillaceous bituminous limestone in thin
layers. During the morning, we traveled up the eastern fork of the
_Fontaine-qui-bouit_ river, our road being roughened by frequent deep
gullies timbered with pine, and halted to noon on a small branch of the
stream, timbered principally with the narrow-leaved cottonwood,
(_populus angustifolia_,) called by the Canadians _liard amere_.
On a hill near by, were two remarkable columns of a grayish-white
conglomerate rock, one of which was about twenty feet high, and two feet
in diameter. They are surmounted by slabs of a dark ferruginous
conglomerate, forming black caps, and adding very much to their columnar
effect at a distance. This rock is very destructible by the action of the
weather, and the hill, of which they formerly constituted a part, is
entirely abraded.

A shaft of the gun-carriage was broken in the afternoon; and we made an
early halt, the stream being from twelve to twenty feet wide, with clear
water. As usual, the clouds had gathered to a storm over the mountains,
and we had a showery evening. At sunset, the thermometer stood at 62 deg., and
our elevation above the sea was. 6,530 feet.

20th.--This morning (as we generally found the mornings under these
mountains) was very clear and beautiful, and the air cool and pleasant,
with the thermometer at 44 deg.. We continued our march up the stream, along a
green sloping bottom; between pine hills on the one hand; and the main
Black hills on the other; towards the ridge which separates the waters of
the Platte from those of the Arkansas. As we approached the diving ridge,
the whole valley was radiant with flowers; blue, yellow, pink, white,
scarlet; and purple, vie with each other in splendor. Esparcette was one
of the highly characteristic plants, and a bright-looking flower
(_gaillardia aristata_) was very frequent; but the most abundant
plant along our road today, was _geranium maculatum_, which is the
characteristic plant on this portion of the diving grounds. Crossing to
the waters of the Platte, fields of blue flax added to the magnificence of
this mountain garden; this was occasionally four feet in height, which was
a luxuriance of growth that I rarely saw this almost universal plant
attain throughout the journey. Continuing down a branch of the Platte,
among high and very steep timbered hills, covered with fragments of sock,
towards evening we issued from the piny region, and made a late encampment
near Poundcake rock, on that fork of the river which we had ascended on
the 8th of July. Our animals enjoyed the abundant rushes this evening, as
the flies were so bad among the pines that they had been much harassed. A
deer was killed here this evening; and again the evening was overcast, and
a collection of brilliant red clouds in the west was followed by the
customary squall of rain.

_Achillea millefolium_ (milfoil) was among the characteristic plants
of the river bottoms to-day. This was one of the most common plants during
the whole of our journey, occurring in almost every variety of situation.
I noticed it on the lowlands of the rivers, near the coast of the Pacific,
and near to the snow among the mountains of the _Sierra Nevada_.

During this excursion, we had surveyed to its head one of the two
principal branches of the upper Arkansas, 75 miles in length, and entirely
completed our survey of the South fork of the Platte, to the extreme
sources of that portion of the river which belongs to the plains, and
heads in the broken hills of the Arkansas dividing ridge, at the foot of
the mountains. That portion of its waters which were collected among these
mountains, it was hoped to explore on our homeward voyage.

Reaching St. Vrain's fort on the morning of the 23d, we found Mr.
Fitzpatrick and his party in good order and excellent health, and my true
and reliable friend, Kit Carson, who had brought with him ten good mules,
with the necessary pack-saddles. Mr. Fitzpatrick, who had often endured
every extremity of want during the course of his mountain life, and knew
well the value of provisions in this country, had watched over our stock
with jealous vigilance, and there was an abundance of flour, rice, sugar,
and coffee, in the camp; and again we fared luxuriously. Meat was,
however, very scarce; and two very small pigs, which we obtained at the
fort, did not go far among forty men. Mr. Fitzpatrick had been here a
week, during which time his men had been occupied in refitting the camp;
and the repose had been very beneficial to his animals, which were now in
tolerably good condition.

I had been able to obtain no certain information in regard to the
character of the passes in this portion of the Rocky Mountain range, which
had always been represented as impracticable for carriages, but the
exploration of which was incidentally contemplated by my instructions,
with the view of finding some convenient point of passage for the road of
emigration, which would enable it to reach, on a more direct line, the
usual ford of the Great Colorado--a place considered as determined by the
nature of the country beyond that river. It is singular, that immediately
at the foot of the mountains, I could find no one sufficiently acquainted
with them to guide us to the plains at their western base; but the race of
trappers, who formerly lived in their recesses, has almost entirely
disappeared--dwindled to a few scattered individuals--some one or two of
whom are regularly killed in the course of each year by the Indians. You
will remember, that in the previous year I brought with me to their
village near this post, and hospitably treated on the way, several
Cheyenne Indians, whom I met on the Lower Platte. Shortly after their
arrival here, these were out with a party of Indians, (themselves the
principal men,) which discovered a few trappers in the neighboring
mountains, whom they immediately murdered, although one of them had been
nearly thirty years in the country, and was perfectly well known, as he
had grown gray among them.

Through this portion of the mountains, also, are the customary roads of
the war parties going out against the Utah and Shoshonee Indians; and
occasionally parties from the Crow nation make their way down to the
southward along this chain, in the expectation of surprising some
straggling lodges of their enemies. Shortly before our arrival, one of
their parties had attacked an Arapaho village in the vicinity, which they
had found unexpectedly strong; and their assault was turned into a rapid
flight and a hot pursuit, in which they had been compelled to abandon the
animals they had rode and escape on their war-horses.

Into this uncertain and dangerous region, small parties of three or four
trappers, who now could collect together, rarely ventured; and
consequently it was seldom visited and little known. Having determined to
try the passage by a pass through a spur of the mountains made by the
_Cache-a-la-Poudre_ river, which rises in the high bed of mountains
around Long's peak, I thought it advisable to avoid any encumbrance which
would occasion detention, and accordingly again separated the party into
two divisions--one of which, under the command of Mr. Fitzpatrick, was
directed to cross the plains to the mouth of Laramie river, and,
continuing thence its route along the usual emigrant road, meet me at Fort
Hall, a post belonging to the Hudson Bay Company, and situated on Snake
river, as it is commonly called in the Oregon Territory, although better
known to us as Lewis's fork of the Columbia. The latter name is there
restricted to one of the upper forks of the river.

Our Delaware Indians having determined to return to their homes, it became
necessary to provide this party with a good hunter; and I accordingly
engaged in that capacity Alexander Godey, a young man about 25 years of
age, who had been in this country six or seven years, all of which time
had been actively employed in hunting for the support of the posts, or in
solitary trading expeditions among the Indians. In courage and
professional skill he was a formidable rival to Carson, and constantly
afterwards was among the best and most efficient of the party, and in
difficult situations was of incalculable value. Hiram Powers, one of the
men belonging to Mr. Fitzpatrick's party, was discharged at this place.

A French _engage_, at Lupton's fort, had been shot in the back on the
4th of July, and died during our absence to the Arkansas. The wife of the
murdered man, an Indian woman of the Snake nation, desirous, like Naomi of
old, to return to her people, requested and obtained permission to travel
with my party to the neighborhood of Bear river, where she expected to
meet with some of their villages. Happier than the Jewish widow, she
carried with her two children, pretty little half-breeds, who added much
to the liveliness of the camp. Her baggage was carried on five or six
pack-horses; and I gave her a small tent, for which I no longer had any
use, as I had procured a lodge at the fort.

For my own party I selected the following men, a number of whom old
associations had rendered agreeable to me:

Charles Preuss, Christopher Carson, Basil Lajeunesse, Francois Badeau,
J.B. Bernier, Louis Menard, Raphael Proue, Jacob Dodson, Louis Zindel,
Henry Lee, J.B. Derosier, Francois Lajeunesse, and Auguste Vasquez.

By observation, the latitude of the post is 40 deg. 16' 33", and its longitude
105 deg. 12' 23", depending, with all the other longitudes along this portion
of the line, upon a subsequent occultation of September 13, 1843, to which
they are referred by the chronometer. Its distance from Kansas landing, by
the road we traveled, (which, it will be remembered, was very winding
along the lower Kansas river,) was 750 miles. The rate of the chronometer,
determined by observations at this place for the interval of our absence,
during this month, was 33.72"; which you will hereafter see did not
sensibly change during the ensuing month, and remained nearly constant
during the remainder of our journey across the continent. This was the
rate used in referring to St. Vrain's fort, the longitude between that
place and the mouth of the _Fontaine-qui-bouit_.

Our various barometrical observations, which are better worthy of
confidence than the isolated determination of 1842, give, for the
elevation of the fort above the sea, 4,930 feet. The barometer here used
was also a better one, and less liable to derangement.

At the end of two days, which was allowed to my animals for necessary
repose, all the arrangements had been completed, and on the afternoon of
the 26th we resumed our respective routes. Some little trouble was
experienced in crossing the Platte, the waters of which were still kept up
by rains and melting snow; and having traveled only about four miles, we
encamped in the evening on Thompson's creek, where we were very much
disturbed by musquitoes.

The following days we continued our march westward over comparative
plains, and, fording the Cache-a-la-Poudre on the morning of the 28th,
entered the Black hills, and nooned on this stream in the mountains beyond
them. Passing over a fine large bottom in the afternoon, we reached a
place where the river was shut up in the hills; and, ascending a ravine,
made a laborious and very difficult passage around by a gap, striking the
river again about dusk. A little labor, however, would remove this
difficulty, and render the road to this point a very excellent one. The
evening closed in dark with rain, and the mountains looked gloomy.

29th.--Leaving our encampment about seven in the morning, we traveled
until three in the afternoon along the river, which, for the distance of
about six miles, runs directly through a spur of the main mountains.

We were compelled by the nature of the ground to cross the river eight or
nine times, at difficult, deep, and rocky fords, the stream running with
great force, swollen by the rains--a true mountain torrent, only forty or
fifty feet wide. It was a mountain valley of the narrowest kind--almost a
chasm--and the scenery very wild and beautiful. Towering mountains rose
round about; their sides sometimes dark with forests of pine, and
sometimes with lofty precipices, washed by the river; while below, as if
they indemnified themselves in luxuriance for the scanty space, the green
river-bottom was covered with a wilderness of flowers, their tall spikes
sometimes rising above our heads as we rode among them. A profusion of
blossoms on a white flowering vine, (_clematis lasianthi_) which was
abundant along the river, contrasted handsomely with the green foliage of
the trees. The mountains appeared to be composed of a greenish-gray and
red granite, which in some places appeared to be in a state of
decomposition, making a red soil.

The stream was wooded with cottonwood, box-elder, and cherry, with currant
and serviceberry bushes. After a somewhat laborious day, during which it
had rained incessantly, we encamped near the end of the pass at the mouth
of a small creek, in sight of the great Laramie plains. It continued to
rain heavily, and at evening the mountains were hid in mists; but there
was no lack of wood, and the large fires we made to dry our clothes were
very comfortable; and at night the hunters came in with a fine deer. Rough
and difficult as we found the pass to-day, an excellent road may be made
with a little labor. Elevation of the camp 5,540 feet, and distance from
St. Vrain's fort 56 miles.

30th.--The day was bright again; the thermometer at sunrise 52 deg.; and
leaving our encampment at eight o'clock, in about half a mile we crossed
the _Cache-a-la-Poudre_ river for the last time; and, entering a
smoother country, we traveled along a kind of _vallon_, bounded on
the right by red buttes and precipices; while to the left a high rolling
country extended to a range of the Black hills, beyond which rose the
great mountains around Long's peak.

By the great quantity of snow visible among them, it had probably snowed
heavily there the previous day, while it had rained on us in the valley.

We halted at noon on a small branch; and in the afternoon traveled over a
high country, gradually ascending towards a range of _buttes_, or
high hills covered with pines, which forms the dividing ridge between the
waters we had left and those of Laramie river.

Late in the evening we encamped at a spring of cold water, near the summit
of the ridge, having increased our elevation to 7,520 feet. During the day
we had traveled 24 miles. By some indifferent observations, our latitude
is 41 deg. 02' 19". A species of _hedeome_ was characteristic along the
whole day's route.

Emerging from the mountains, we entered a region of bright, fair weather.
In my experience in this country, I was forcibly impressed with the
different character of the climate on opposite sides of the Rocky Mountain
range. The vast prairie plain on the east is like the ocean; the rain and
clouds from the constantly evaporating snow of the mountains rushing down
into the heated air of the plains, on which you will have occasion to
remark the frequent storms of rain we encountered during our journey.

31st.--The morning was clear; temperature 48 deg.. A fine rolling road, among
piny and grassy hills, brought us this morning into a large trail where an
Indian village had recently passed. The weather was pleasant and cool; we
were disturbed by neither musquitoes nor flies; and the country was
certainly extremely beautiful. The slopes and broad ravines were
absolutely covered with fields of flowers of the most exquisitely
beautiful colors. Among those which had not hitherto made their
appearance, and which here were characteristic, was a new
_delphinium_, of a green and lustrous metallic blue color, mingled
with compact fields of several bright-colored varieties of
_astragalus_, which were crowded together in splendid profusion. This
trail conducted us, through a remarkable defile, to a little timbered
creek, up which we wound our way, passing by a singular and massive wall
of dark-red granite. The formation of the country is a red feldspathic
granite, overlaying a decomposing mass of the same rock, forming the soil
of all this region, which everywhere is red and gravelly, and appears to
be of a great floral fertility.

As we emerged on a small tributary of the Laramie river, coming in sight
of its principal stream, the flora became perfectly magnificent; and we
congratulated ourselves, as we rode along our pleasant road; that we had
substituted this for the uninteresting country between Laramie hills and
the Sweet Water valley. We had no meat for supper last night or breakfast
this morning, and were glad to see Carson come in at noon with a good
antelope.

A meridian observation of the sun placed us in latitude 41 deg. 04' 06". In
the evening we encamped on the Laramie river, which is here very thinly
timbered with scattered groups of cottonwood at considerable intervals.
From our camp, we are able to distinguish the gorges, in which are the
sources of Cache-a-la-Poudre and Laramie rivers; and the Medicine Bow
mountain, towards the point of which we are directing our course this
afternoon, has been in sight the greater part of the day. By observation
the latitude was 41 deg. 15' 02", and longitude 106 deg. 16' 54". The same
beautiful flora continued till about four in the afternoon, when it
suddenly disappeared, with the red soil, which became sandy, and of a
whitish-gray color. The evening was tolerably clear; temperature at sunset
64 deg.. The day's journey was 30 miles.



AUGUST.


1st.--The morning was calm and clear, with sunrise temperature at 42 deg.. We
traveled to-day over a plain, or open rolling country, at the foot of the
Medicine Bow mountain; the soil in the morning being sandy, with fragments
of rock abundant, and in the afternoon, when we approached closer to the
mountain, so stony that we made but little way. The beautiful plants of
yesterday reappeared occasionally; flax in bloom occurred during the
morning, and esparcette in luxuriant abundance was a characteristic of the
stony ground in the afternoon. The camp was roused into a little
excitement by a chase after a buffalo bull, and an encounter with a war
party of Sioux and Cheyenne Indians about 30 strong. Hares and antelope
were seen during the day, and one of the latter was killed. The Laramie
peak was in sight this afternoon. The evening was clear, with scattered
clouds; temperature 62 deg.. The day's journey was 26 miles.

2d.--Temperature at sunrise 52 deg., and scenery and weather made our road to-
day delightful. The neighboring mountain is thickly studded with pines,
intermingled with the brighter foliage of aspens, and occasional spots
like lawns between the patches of snow among the pines, and here and there
on the heights. Our route below lay over a comparative plain, covered with
the same brilliant vegetation, and the day was clear and pleasantly cool.
During the morning, we crossed many streams, clear and rocky, and broad
grassy valleys, of a strong black soil, washed down from the mountains,
and producing excellent pasturage. These were timbered with the red willow
and long-leaved cottonwood, mingled with aspen, as we approached the
mountain more nearly towards noon. _Esparcette_ was a characteristic,
and flax occurred frequently in bloom. We halted at noon on the most
western fork of Laramie river--a handsome stream about sixty feet wide and
two feet deep, with clear water and a swift current, over a bed composed
entirely of boulders or roll-stones. There was a large open bottom here,
on which were many lodge poles lying about: and in the edge of the
surrounding timber were three strong forts, that appeared to have been
recently occupied. At this place I became first acquainted with the
_yampah_, (_anethum graveolens_,) which I found our Snake woman
engaged in digging in the low timbered bottom of the creek. Among the
Indians along the Rocky Mountains, and more particularly among the
Shoshonee or Snake Indians, in whose territory it is very abundant, this
is considered the best among the roots used for food. To us it was an
interesting plant--a little link between the savage and civilized life.
Here, among the Indians, its root is a common article of food, which they
take pleasure in offering to strangers; while with us, in a considerable
portion of America and Europe, the seeds are used to flavor soup. It grows
more abundantly, and in greater luxuriance, on one of the neighboring
tributaries of the Colorado, than in any other part of this region; and on
that stream, to which the Snakes are accustomed to resort every year to
procure a supply of their favorite plant, they have bestowed the name of
_Yampah_ river. Among the trappers it is generally known as Little
Snake river; but in this and other instances, where it illustrated the
history of the people inhabiting the country, I have preferred to retain
on the map the aboriginal name. By a meridional observation, the latitude
is 41 deg. 45' 59"

In the afternoon we took our way directly across the spurs from the point
of the mountain, where we had several ridges to cross; and, although the
road was not rendered bad by the nature of the ground, it was made
extremely rough by the stiff tough bushes of _artemisia tridentata_,
[Footnote: The greater portion of our subsequent journey was through a
region where this shrub constituted the tree of the country; and, as it
will often be mentioned in occasional descriptions, the word
_artemisia_ only will be used, without the specific name.] in this
country commonly called sage.

This shrub now began to make its appearance in compact fields; and we were
about to quit for a long time this country of excellent pasturage and
brilliant flowers. Ten or twelve buffalo bulls were seen during the
afternoon; and we were surprised by the appearance of a large red ox. We
gathered around him as if he had been an old acquaintance, with all our
domestic feelings as much awakened as if we had come in sight of an old
farm-house. He had probably made his escape from some party of emigrants
on Green river; and, with a vivid remembrance of some old green field, be
was pursuing the straightest course for the frontier that the country
admitted. We carried him along with us as a prize; and, when it was found
in the morning that he had wandered off, I would not let him be pursued,
for I would rather have gone through a starving time of three entire days,
than let him be killed after he had successfully run the gauntlet so far
among the Indians. I have been told by Mr. Bent's people of an ox born and
raised at St. Vrain's fort, which made his escape from them at Elm grove,
near the frontier, having come in that year with the wagons. They were on
their way out, and saw occasionally places where he had eaten and laid
down to rest; but did not see him for about 700 miles, when they overtook
him on the road, traveling along to the fort, having unaccountably escaped
Indians and every other mischance.

We encamped at evening on the principal fork of Medicine Bow river, near
to an isolated mountain called the Medicine _Butte_, which appeared
to be about 1,800 feet above the plain, from which it rises abruptly, and
was still white, nearly to its base, with a great quantity of snow. The
streams were timbered with the long-leaved, cottonwood and red willow; and
during the afternoon a species of onion was very abundant. I obtained here
an immersion of the first satellite of Jupiter, which, corresponding very
nearly with the chronometer, placed us in longitude 106 deg. 47' 25". The
latitude, by observation, was 41 deg. 37' 16"; elevation above the sea, 7,800
feet, and distance from St. Vrain's fort, 147 miles.

3d.--There was a white frost last night; the morning is clear and cool.
We were early on the road, having breakfasted before sunrise, and in a few
miles' travel entered the pass of the Medicine _Butte_, through which
led a broad trail, which had been recently traveled by a very large party.
Immediately in the pass, the road was broken by ravines, and we were
obliged to clear a way through groves of aspens, which generally made
their appearance when we reached elevated regions. According to the
barometer, this was 8,300 feet; and while we were detained in opening a
road, I obtained a meridional observation of the sun, which gave 41 deg. 35'
48" for the latitude of the pass. The Medicine _Butte_ is isolated by
a small tributary of the North fork of the Platte, but the mountains
approach each other very nearly; the stream running at their feet. On the
south they are smooth, with occasional streaks of pine; but the butte
itself is ragged, with escarpments of red feldspathic granite, and dark
with pines; the snow reaching from the summit to within a few hundred feet
of the trail. The granite here was more compact and durable than that in
the formation which we had passed through a few days before to the
eastward of Laramie. Continuing our way over a plain on the west side of
the pass, where the road was terribly rough with artemisia, we made our
evening encampment on the creek, where it took a northern direction,
unfavorably to the course we were pursuing. Bands of buffalo were
discovered as we came down upon the plain; and Carson brought into the
camp a cow which had the fat on the fleece two inches thick. Even in this
country of rich pasturage and abundant game, it is rare that a hunter
chances upon a finer animal. Our voyage had already been long, but this
was the first good buffalo meat we had obtained. We traveled to-day 26
miles.

4th.--The morning was clear and calm; and, leaving the creek, we traveled
towards the North fork of the Platte, over a plain which was rendered
rough and broken by ravines. With the exception of some thin grasses, the
sandy soil here was occupied almost exclusively by artemisia, with its
usual turpentine odor. We had expected to meet with some difficulty in
crossing the river, but happened to strike it where there was a very
excellent ford, and halted to noon on the left bank, two hundred miles
from St. Vrain's fort. The hunters brought in pack-animals loaded with
fine meat. According to our imperfect knowledge of the country, there
should have been a small affluent to this stream a few miles higher up;
and in the afternoon we continued our way among the river hills, in the
expectation of encamping upon it in the evening. The ground proved to be
so exceedingly difficult, broken up into hills, terminating in escarpments
and broad ravines, five hundred or six hundred feet deep, with sides so
precipitous that we could scarcely find a place to descend, that, towards
sunset, I turned directly in towards the river, and, after nightfall,
entered a sort of ravine. We were obliged to feel our way, and clear a
road in the darkness; the surface being much broken, and the progress of
the carriages being greatly obstructed by the artemisia, which had a
luxuriant growth of four to six feet in height. We had scrambled along
this gulley for several hours, during which we had knocked off the
carriage-lamps, broken a thermometer and several small articles, when,
fearing to lose something of more importance, I halted for the night at
ten o'clock. Our animals were turned down towards the river, that they
might pick up what little grass they could find; and after a little
search, some water was found in a small ravine, and improved by digging.
We lighted up the ravine with fires of artemisia, and about midnight sat
down to a supper which we were hungry enough to find delightful--although
the buffalo-meat was crusted with sand, and the coffee was bitter with the
wormwood taste of the artemisia leaves.

A successful day's hunt had kept our hunters occupied until late, and they
slept out, but rejoined us at daybreak, when, finding ourselves only about
a mile from the river, we followed the ravine down, and camped in a
cottonwood grove on a beautiful grassy bottom, where our animals
indemnified themselves for the scanty fare of the past night. It was quite
a pretty and pleasant place; a narrow strip of prairie, about five hundred
yards long, terminated at the ravine where we entered by high precipitous
hills closing in upon the river, and at the upper end by a ridge of low
rolling hills.

In the precipitous bluffs were displayed a succession of strata containing
fossil vegetable remains, and several beds of coal. In some of the beds
the coal did not appear to be perfectly mineralized, and in some of the
seams it was compact, and remarkably lustrous. In these latter places,
there were also thin layers of a very fine white salts, in powder. As we
had a large supply of meat in the camp, which it was necessary to dry, and
the surrounding country appeared to be well stocked with buffalo, which it
was probable, after a day or two, we would not see again until our return
to the Mississippi waters, I determined to make here a provision of dried
meat, which would be necessary for our subsistence in the region we were
about entering, which was said to be nearly destitute of game. Scaffolds
were accordingly soon erected, fires made, and the meat cut into thin
slices to be dried; and all were busily occupied, when the camp was thrown
into a sudden tumult, by a charge from about seventy mounted Indians, over
the low hills at the upper end of the little bottom. Fortunately, the
guard, who was between them and our animals, had caught a glimpse of an
Indian's head, as he raised himself in his stirrups to look over the hill,
a moment before he made the charge, and succeeded in turning the band into
the camp, as the Indians charged into the bottom with the usual yell.
Before they reached us, the grove on the verge of the little bottom was
occupied by our people, and the Indians brought to a sudden halt, which
they made in time to save themselves from a howitzer shot, which would
undoubtedly have been very effective in such a compact body; and further
proceedings were interrupted by their signs for peace. They proved to be a
war party of Arapaho and Cheyenne Indians, and informed us that they had
charged upon the camp under the belief that we were hostile Indians, and
had discovered their mistake only at the moment of the attack--an excuse
which policy required us to receive as true, though under the full
conviction that the display of our little howitzer, and our favorable
position in the grove, certainly saved our horses, and probably ourselves,
from their marauding intentions. They had been on a war party, and had
been defeated, and were consequently in the state of mind which aggravates
their innate thirst for plunder and blood. Their excuse, however, was
taken in good part, and the usual evidences of friendship interchanged.
The pipe went round, provisions were spread, and the tobacco and goods
furnished the customary presents, which they look for even from traders,
and much more from government authorities.

They were returning from an expedition against the Shoshonee Indians, one
of whose villages they had surprised, at Bridger's fort, on Ham's fork of
Green river, (in the absence of the men, who were engaged in an antelope
surround,) and succeeded in carrying off their horses, and taking several
scalps. News of the attack reached the Snakes immediately, who pursued and
overtook them, and recovered their horses; and, in the running fight which
ensued, the Arapahoes had lost several men killed, and a number wounded,
who were coming on more slowly with a party in the rear. Nearly all the
horses they had brought off were the property of the whites at the fort.
After remaining until nearly sunset, they took their departure; and the
excitement which their arrival had afforded subsided into our usual quiet,
a little enlivened by the vigilance rendered necessary by the neighborhood
of our uncertain visiters. At noon the thermometer was at 75 deg., at sunset
70 deg., and the evening clear. Elevation above the sea 6,820 feet; latitude
41 deg. 36' 00"; longitude 107 deg. 22' 27".

6th.--At sunrise the thermometer was 46 deg., the morning being clear and
calm. We traveled to-day over an extremely rugged country, barren and
uninteresting--nothing to be seen but artemisia bushes; and, in the
evening, found a grassy spot among the hills, kept green by several
springs, where we encamped late. Within a few hundred yards was a very
pretty little stream of clear cool water, whose green banks looked
refreshing among the dry, rocky hills. The hunters brought in a fat
mountain sheep, (_ovis montana_.)

Our road the next day was through a continued and dense field of
_artemisia_, which now entirely covered the country in such a
luxuriant growth that it was difficult and laborious for a man on foot to
force his way through, and nearly impracticable for our light carriages.
The region through which we were traveling was a high plateau,
constituting the dividing ridge between the waters of the Atlantic and
Pacific oceans, and extending to a considerable distance southward, from
the neighborhood of the Table rock, at the southern side of the South
Pass. Though broken up into rugged and rocky hills of a dry and barren
nature, it has nothing of a mountainous character; the small streams which
occasionally occur belonging neither to the Platte nor the Colorado, but
losing themselves either in the sand or in small lakes. From an eminence,
in the afternoon, a mountainous range became visible in the north, in
which were recognised some rocky peaks belonging to the range of the Sweet
Water valley; and, determining to abandon any further attempt to struggle
through this almost impracticable country, we turned our course directly
north, towards a pass in the valley of the Sweet Water river. A shaft of
the gun-carriage was broken during the afternoon, causing a considerable
delay; and it was late in an unpleasant evening before we succeeded in
finding a very poor encampment, where there was a little water in a deep
trench of a creek, and some scanty grass among the shrubs. All the game
here consisted of a few straggling buffalo bulls, and during the day there
had been but very little grass, except in some green spots where it had
collected around springs or shallow lakes. Within fifty miles of the Sweet
Water, the country changed into a vast saline plain, in many places
extremely level, occasionally resembling the flat sandy beds of shallow
lakes. Here the vegetation consisted of a shrubby growth, among which were
several varieties of _chenopodiaceous_ plants; but the characteristic
shrub was _Fremontia vermicularis_, with smaller saline shrubs
growing with singular luxuriance, and in many places holding exclusive
possession of the ground.

On the evening of the 8th we encamped on one of these fresh-water lakes,
which the traveler considers himself fortunate to find; and the next day,
in latitude, by observation, 42 deg. 20' 06", halted to noon immediately at
the foot of the southern side of the range which walls in the Sweet Water
valley, on the head of a small tributary to that river.

Continuing in the afternoon our course down the stream, which here cuts
directly through the ridge, forming a very practicable pass, we entered
the valley; and, after a march of about nine miles, encamped on our
familiar river, endeared to us by the acquaintance of the previous
expedition--the night having already closed in with a cold rain-storm. Our
camp was about twenty miles above the Devil's gate, which we had been able
to see in coming down the plain; and, in the course of the night, the
clouds broke away around Jupiter for a short time; during which we
obtained an emersion of the first satellite, the result of which agreed
very nearly with the chronometer, giving for the mean longitude 107 deg. 50'
07"; elevation above the sea 6,040 feet; and distance from St. Vrain's
fort, by the road we had Just traveled, 315 miles.

Here passes the road to Oregon; and the broad smooth highway, where the
numerous heavy wagons of the emigrants had entirely beaten and crushed the
artemisia, was a happy exchange to our poor animals, for the sharp rocks
and tough shrubs among which they had been toiling so long; and we moved
up the valley rapidly and pleasantly. With very little deviation from our
route of the preceding year, we continued up the valley; and on the
evening of the 12th encamped on the Sweet Water, at a point where the road
turns off to cross to the plains of Green river. The increased coolness of
the weather indicated that we had attained a greater elevation, which the
barometer here placed at 7,220 feet; and during the night water froze in
the lodge.

The morning of the 13th was clear and cold, there being a white-frost, and
the thermometer, a little before sunrise, standing at 26.5 deg.. Leaving this
encampment, (our last on the waters which flow towards the rising sun,) we
took our way along the upland, towards the dividing ridge which separates
the Atlantic from the Pacific waters, and crossed it by a road some miles
further south than the one we had followed on our return in 1842. We
crossed very near the Table mountain, at the southern extremity of the
South Pass, which is near twenty miles in width, and already traversed by
several different roads. Selecting, as well as I could, in the scarcely
distinguishable ascent, what might be considered the dividing ridge in
this remarkable depression in the mountain, I took a barometrical
observation, which gave 7,490 feet for the elevation above the Gulf of
Mexico. You will remember that, in my report of 1842, I estimated the
elevation of this pass at about 7,000 feet; a correct observation with a
good barometer enables me to give it with more precision. Its importance,
as the great gate through which commerce and traveling may hereafter pass
between the valley of the Mississippi and the North Pacific, justifies a
precise notice of its locality and distance from leading points, in
addition to this statement of its elevation. As stated in the report of
1842, its latitude, at the point where we crossed, is 42 deg. 24' 32"; its
longitude 109 deg. 26' 00"; its distance from the mouth of the Kansas, by the
common traveling route, 962 miles; from the mouth of the Great Platte,
along the valley of that river, according to our survey of 1842, 882
miles; and its distance from St. Louis about 400 miles more by the Kansas,
and about 700 by the Great Platte route; these additions being steamboat
conveyance in both instances. From this pass to the mouth of the Oregon is
about 1,400 miles by the common traveling route; so that under a general
point of view, it may be assumed to be about half-way between the
Mississippi and the Pacific ocean, on the common traveling route.
Following a hollow of slight and easy descent, in which was very soon
formed a little tributary to the Gulf of California, (for the waters which
flow west from the South Pass go to this gulf,) we made our usual halt
four miles from the pass, in latitude, by observation, 42 deg. 19' 53".
Entering here the valley of Green river--the great Colorado of the West--
and inclining very much to the southward along the streams which form the
Sandy river, the road led for several days over dry and level
uninteresting plains; to which a low scrubby growth of artemisia gave a
uniform dull grayish color; and on the evening of the 15th we encamped in
the Mexican territory, on the left bank of Green river, 69 miles from the
South Pass, in longitude 110 deg. 05' 05", and latitude 41 deg. 53' 54", distant
1,031 miles from the mouth of the Kansas. This is the emigrant road to
Oregon, which bears much to the southward, to avoid the mountains about
the western heads of Green river--the _Rio Verde_ of the Spaniards.

16th.--Crossing the river, here about 400 feet wide, by a very good ford,
we continued to descend for seven or eight miles on a pleasant road along
the right bank of the stream, of which the islands and shores are
handsomely timbered with cottonwood. The refreshing appearance of the
broad river, with its timbered shores and green wooded islands, in
contrast to its dry and sandy plains, probably obtained for it the name of
Green river, which was bestowed on it by the Spaniards who first came into
this country to trade some 25 years ago. It was then familiarly known as
the Seeds-ke-dee-agie, or Prairie Hen (_tetrao urophasianus_) river;
a name which it received from the Crows, to whom its upper waters belong,
and on which this bird is still very abundant. By the Shoshonee and Utah
Indians, to whom belongs, for a considerable distance below, the country
where we were now traveling, it was called the Bitter Root river, from a
great abundance in its valley of a plant which affords them one of their
favorite roots. Lower down, from Brown's hole to the southward, the river
runs through lofty chasms, walled in by precipices of _red_ rock; and
even among the wilder tribes which inhabit that portion of its course, I
have heard it called by Indian refugees from the California settlements
the Rio _Colorado_. We halted to noon at the upper end of a large
bottom, near some old houses, which had been a trading post, in lat. 41 deg.
46' 54". At this place the elevation of the river above the sea is 6,230
feet. That of Lewis's fork of the Columbia at Fort Hall is, according to
our subsequent observations, 4,500 feet. The descent of each stream is
rapid, but that of the Colorado is but little known, and that little
derived from vague report. Three hundred miles of its lower part, as it
approaches the Gulf of California, is reported to be smooth and tranquil;
but its upper part is manifestly broken into many falls and rapids. From
many descriptions of trappers, it is probable that in its foaming course
among its lofty precipices it presents many scenes of wild grandeur; and
though offering many temptations, and often discussed, no trappers have
been found bold enough to undertake a voyage which has so certain a
prospect of a fatal termination. The Indians have strange stories of
beautiful valleys abounding with beaver, shut up among inaccessible walls
of rock in the lower course of the river; and to which the neighboring
Indians, in their occasional wars with the Spaniards and among themselves,
drive their herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, leaving them to pasture
in perfect security.

The road here leaves the river, which bends considerably to the east; and
in the afternoon we resumed our westerly course, passing over a somewhat
high and broken country; and about sunset, after a day's travel of 26
miles, reached Black's fork of the Green river--a shallow stream, with a
somewhat sluggish current, about 120 feet wide, timbered principally with
willow, and here and there an occasional large tree. At three in the
morning I obtained an observation of an emersion of the first satellite of
Jupiter, with other observations. The heavy wagons have so completely
pulverized the soil, that clouds of fine light dust are raised by the
slightest wind, making the road sometimes very disagreeable.

17th.--Leaving our encampment at six in the morning, we traveled along the
bottom, which is about two miles wide, bordered by low hills, in which the
strata contained handsome and very distinct vegetable fossils. In a gully
a short distance farther up the river, and underlying these, was exposed a
stratum of an impure or argillaceous limestone. Crossing on the way
Black's fork, where it is one foot deep and forty wide, with clear water
and a pebbly bed, in nine miles we reached Ham's fork, a tributary to the
former stream, having now about sixty feet breadth, and a few inches depth
of water. It is wooded with thickets of red willow, and in the bottom is a
tolerably strong growth of grass. The road here makes a traverse of twelve
miles across a bend of the river. Passing in the way some remarkable
hills, two or three hundred feet high, with frequent and nearly vertical
escarpments of a green stone, consisting of an argillaceous carbonate of
lime, alternating with strata of an iron-brown limestone, and worked into
picturesque forms by wind and rain, at two in the afternoon we reached the
river again, having made to-day 21 miles. Since crossing the great
dividing ridge of the Rocky mountains, plants have been very few in
variety, the country being covered principally with artemisia.

18th.--We passed on the road, this morning, the grave of one of the
emigrants, being the second we had seen since falling into their trail;
and halted to noon on the river, a short distance above.

The Shoshonee woman took leave of us here, expecting to find some of her
relations at Bridger's fort, which is only a mile or two distant, on a
fork of this stream. In the evening we encamped on a salt creek, about
fifteen feet wide, having to-day traveled 32 miles.

I obtained an emersion of the first satellite under favorable
circumstances, the night being still and clear.

One of our mules died here, and in this portion of our journey we lost six
or seven of our animals. The grass which the country had lately afforded
was very poor and insufficient; and animals which have been accustomed to
grain become soon weak and unable to labor, when reduced to no other
nourishment than grass. The American horses (as those are usually called
which are brought to this country from the States) are not of any
serviceable value until after they have remained a winter in the country,
and become accustomed to live entirely on grass.

19th.--Desirous to avoid every delay not absolutely necessary, I sent on
Carson in advance to Fort Hall this morning, to make arrangements for a
small supply of provisions. A few miles from our encampment, the road
entered a high ridge, which the trappers called the "little mountain,"
connecting the Utah with the Wind River chain; and in one of the hills
near which we passed I remarked strata of a conglomerate formation,
fragments of which were scattered over the surface. We crossed a ridge of
this conglomerate, the road passing near a grove of low cedar, and
descending upon one of the heads of Ham's fork, called Muddy, where we
made our mid-day halt. In the river hills at this place, I discovered
strata of fossiliferous rock, having an _oolitic structure_, which,
in connection with the neighboring strata, authorize us to believe that
here, on the west side of the Rocky mountains, we find repeated the modern
formations of Great Britain and Europe, which have hitherto been wanting
to complete the system of North American geology.

In the afternoon we continued our road, and searching among the hills a
few miles up the stream, and on the same bank, I discovered, among the
alternate beds of coal and clay, a stratum of white indurated clay,
containing very clear and beautiful impressions of vegetable remains. This
was the most interesting fossil locality I had met in the country, and I
deeply regretted that time did not permit me to remain a day or two in the
vicinity; but I could not anticipate the delays to which I might be
exposed in the course of our journey--or, rather, I knew that they were
many and inevitable; and after remaining here only about an hour, I
hurried off, loaded with as many specimens as I could conveniently carry.

Coal made its appearance occasionally in the hills during the afternoon,
and was displayed in rabbit burrows in a kind of gap, through which we
passed over some high hills, and we descended to make our encampment on
the same stream, where we found but very poor grass. In the evening a fine
cow, with her calf, which had strayed off from some emigrant party, was
found several miles from the road, and brought into camp; and as she gave
an abundance of milk, we enjoyed to-night an excellent cup of coffee. We
traveled to-day 28 miles, and, as has been usual since crossing the Green
river, the road has been very dusty, and the weather smoky and
oppressively hot. Artemisia was characteristic among the few plants.

20th.--We continued to travel up the creek by a very gradual ascent and a
very excellent grassy road, passing on the way several small forks of the
stream. The hills here are higher, presenting escarpments of party-colored
and apparently clay rocks, purple, dark-red, and yellow, containing strata
of sandstone and limestone with shells, with a bed of cemented pebbles,
the whole overlaid by beds of limestone. The alternation of red and yellow
gives a bright appearance to the hills, one of which was called by our
people the Rainbow hill, and the character of the country became more
agreeable, and traveling far more pleasant, as now we found timber and
very good grass. Gradually ascending, we reached the lower level of a bed
of white limestone, lying upon a white clay, on the upper line of which
the whole road is abundantly supplied with beautiful cool springs, gushing
out a foot in breadth and several inches deep, directly from the hill-
side.

At noon we halted at the last main fork of the creek, at an elevation of
7,200 feet, and in latitude, by observation, 41 deg. 39' 45"; and in the
afternoon continued on the same excellent road, up the left or northern
fork of the stream, towards its head, in a pass which the barometer placed
at 8,230 feet above the sea. This is a connecting ridge between the Utah
or Bear River mountains and the Wind River chain of the Rocky mountains,
separating the waters of the Gulf of California on the east, and those on
the west belonging more directly to the Pacific, from a vast interior
basin whose rivers are collected into numerous lakes having no outlet to
the ocean. From the summit of this pass, the highest which the road
crosses between the Mississippi and the Western ocean, our view was over a
very mountainous region, whose rugged appearance was greatly increased by
the smoky weather, through which the broken ridges were dark and dimly
seen. The ascent to the summit of the gap was occasionally steeper than
the national road in the Alleghanies; and the descent, by way of a spur on
the western side, is rather precipitous, but the pass may still be called
a good one. Some thickets of the willow in the hollows below deceived us
into the expectation of finding a camp at our usual hour at the foot of
the mountain; but we found them without water, and continued down a
ravine, and encamped about dark at a place where the springs began again
to make their appearance, but where our animals fared badly; the stock of
the emigrants having razed the grass as completely as if we were again in
the midst of the buffalo.

21st.--An hour's travel this morning brought us into the fertile and
picturesque valley of Bear river, the principal tributary to the Great
Salt lake. The stream is here two hundred feet wide, fringed with willows
and occasional groups of hawthorns. We were now entering a region which,
for us, possessed a strange and extraordinary interest. We were upon the
waters of the famous lake which forms a salient point among the remarkable
geographical features of the country, and around which the vague and
superstitious accounts of the trappers had thrown a delightful obscurity,
which we anticipated pleasure in dispelling, but which, in the mean time,
left a crowded field for the exercise of our imagination.

In our occasional conversations with the few old hunters who had visited
the region, it had been a subject of frequent speculation; and the wonders
which they related were not the less agreeable because they were highly
exaggerated and impossible.

Hitherto this lake had been seen only by trappers who were wandering
through the country in search of new beaver-streams, caring very little
for geography; its islands had never been visited; and none were to be
found who had entirely made the circuit of its shores; and no instrumental
observations or geographical survey, of any description, had ever been
made anywhere in the neighboring region. It was generally supposed that it
had no visible outlet; but among the trappers, including those in my own
camp, were many who believed that somewhere on its surface was a terrible
whirlpool, through which its waters found their way to the ocean by some
subterranean communication. All these things had made a frequent subject
of discussion in our desultory conversations around the fires at night;
and my own mind had become tolerably well filled with their indefinite
pictures, and insensibly colored with their romantic descriptions, which,
in the pleasure of excitement, I was well disposed to believe, and half
expected to realize.

Where we descended into this beautiful valley, it is three to four miles
in breadth, perfectly level, and bounded by mountainous ridges, one above
another, rising suddenly from the plain.

We continued our road down the river, and at night encamped with a family
of emigrants--two men, women, and several children--who appeared to be
bringing up the rear of the great caravan. I was struck with the fine
appearance of their cattle, some six or eight yoke of oxen, which really
looked as well as if they had been all the summer at work on some good
farm. It was strange to see one small family traveling along through such
a country, so remote from civilization. Some nine years since, such a
security might have been a fatal one, but since their disastrous defeats
in the country a little north, the Blackfeet have ceased to visit these
waters. Indians however, are very uncertain in their localities; and the
friendly feelings, also, of those now inhabiting it may be changed.

According to barometrical observation at noon, the elevation Of the valley
was 6,400 feet above the sea; and our encampment at night in latitude 42 deg.
03' 47", and longitude 111 deg. 10' 53", by observation--the day's journey
having been 26 miles. This encampment was therefore within the territorial
limit of the United States; our traveling, from the time we entered the
valley of the Green river, on the 15th of August, having been south of the
42d degree of north latitude, and consequently on Mexican territory; and
this is the route all the emigrants now travel to Oregon.

The temperature at sunset was 65 deg.; and at evening there was a distant
thunder-storm, with a light breeze from the north.

Antelope and elk were seen during the day on the opposite prairie; and
there were ducks and geese in the river.

The next morning, in about three miles from our encampment, we reached
Smith's fork, a stream of clear water, about 50 feet in breadth. It is
timbered with cottonwood, willow, and aspen, and makes a beautiful
debouchement through a pass about 600 yards wide, between remarkable
mountain hills, rising abruptly on either side, and forming gigantic
columns to the gate by which it enters Bear River valley. The bottoms,
which below Smith's fork had been two miles wide, narrowed as we advanced
to a gap 500 yards wide, and during the greater part of the day we had a
winding route, the river making very sharp and sudden bends, the mountains
steep and rocky, and the valley occasionally so narrow as only to leave
space for a passage through.

We made our halt at noon in a fertile bottom, where the common blue flax
was growing abundantly, a few miles below the mouth of Thomas's fork, one
of the larger tributaries of the river.

Crossing, in the afternoon, the point of a narrow spur, we descended into
a beautiful bottom, formed by a lateral valley, which presented a picture
of home beauty that went directly to our hearts. The edge of the wood, for
several miles along the river, was dotted with the white covers of
emigrant wagons, collected in groups at different camps, where the smoke
was rising lazily from the fires, around which the women were occupied in
preparing the evening meal, and the children playing in the grass; and
herds of cattle, grazing about in the bottom, had an air of quiet
security, and civilized comfort, that made a rare sight for the traveler
in such a remote wilderness.

In common with all the emigration, they had been reposing for several days
in this delightful valley, in order to recruit their animals on its
luxuriant pasturage after their long journey, and prepare them for the
hard travel along the comparatively sterile banks of the Upper Columbia.
At the lower end of this extensive bottom, the river passes through an
open canon, where there were high vertical rocks to the water's edge, and
the road here turns up a broad valley to the right. It was already near
sunset; but, hoping to reach the river again before night, we continued
our march along the valley, finding the road tolerably good, until we
arrived at a point where it crosses the ridge by an ascent of a mile in
length, which was so very steep and difficult for the gun and carriage,
that we did not reach the summit until dark.

It was absolutely necessary to descend into the valley for water and
grass; and we were obliged to grope our way in the darkness down a very
steep, bad mountain, reaching the river at about ten o'clock. It was late
before our animals were gathered into the camp, several of those which
were very weak being necessarily left to pass the night on the ridge; and
we sat down again to a midnight supper. The road, in the morning,
presented an animated appearance. We found that we had encamped near a
large party of emigrants; and a few miles below, another party was already
in motion. Here the valley had resumed its usual breadth, and the river
swept off along the mountains on the western side, the road continuing
directly on.

In about an hour's travel we met several Shoshonee Indians, who informed
us that they belonged to a large village which had just come into the
valley from the mountain to the westward, where they had been hunting
antelope and gathering service-berries. Glad at the opportunity of seeing
one of their villages, and in the hope of purchasing from them a few
horses, I turned immediately off into the plain towards their encampment,
which was situated on a small stream near the river.

We had approached within something more than a mile of the village, when
suddenly a single horseman emerged from it at full speed, followed by
another and another in rapid succession; and then party after party poured
into the plain, until, when the foremost rider reached us, all the whole
intervening plain was occupied by a mass of horsemen, which came charging
down upon us with guns and naked swords, lances, and bows and arrows--
Indians entirely naked, and warriors fully dressed for war, with the long
red streamers of their war-bonnets reaching nearly to the ground, all
mingled together in the bravery of savage warfare. They had been thrown
into a sudden tumult by the appearance of our flag, which, among these
people, is regarded as an emblem of hostility--it being usually borne by
the Sioux and the neighboring mountain Indians, when they come here to
war; and we had, accordingly been mistaken for a body of their enemies. A
few words from the chief quieted the excitement; and the whole band,
increasing every moment in number, escorted us to their encampment, where
the chief pointed out a place for us to encamp, near his own lodge, and we
made known our purpose in visiting the village. In a very short time we
purchased eight horses, for which we gave in exchange blankets, red and
blue cloth, beads, knives, and tobacco, and the usual other articles of
Indian traffic. We obtained from them also a considerable quantity of
berries, of different kinds, among which service-berries were the most
abundant; and several kinds of roots and seeds, which we could eat with
pleasure, as any kind of vegetable food was gratifying to us. I ate here,
for the first time, the _kooyah_, or _tobacco-root_,
(_valeriana edulis_,)--the principal edible root among the Indians
who inhabit the upper waters of the streams on the western side of the
mountains. It has a very strong and remarkably peculiar taste and odor,
which I can compare to no other vegetable that I am acquainted with, and
which to some persons is extremely offensive. It was characterized by Mr.
Preuss as the most horrid food he had ever put in his mouth; and when, in
the evening, one of the chiefs sent his wife to me with a portion which
she had prepared as a delicacy to regale us, the odor immediately drove
him out of the lodge; and frequently afterwards he used to beg that when
those who liked it had taken what they desired, it might be sent away. To
others, however, the taste is rather an agreeable one; and I was
afterwards glad when it formed an addition to our scanty meals. It is full
of nutriment; and in its unprepared state is said by the Indians to have
very strong poisonous qualities, of which it is deprived by a peculiar
process, being baked in the ground for about two days.

The morning of the 24th was disagreeably cool, with an easterly wind, and
very smoky weather. We made a late start from the village, and, regaining
the road, (on which, during all the day, were scattered the emigrant
wagons,) we continued on down the valley of the river, bordered by high
and mountainous hills, on which fires are seen at the summit. The soil
appears generally good, although, with the grasses, many of the plants are
dried up, probably on account of the great heat and want of rain. The
common blue flax of cultivation, now almost entirely in seed--only a
scattered flower here and there remaining--is the most characteristic
plant of the Bear River valley. When we encamped at night, on the right
bank of the river, it was growing as in a sown field. We had traveled
during the day twenty-two miles, encamping in latitude (by observation)
42 deg. 36' 56", chronometric longitude 111 deg. 42' 05".

In our neighborhood the mountains appeared extremely rugged, giving still
greater value to this beautiful natural pass.

25th.--This was a cloudless but smoky autumn morning, with a cold wind
from the southeast, and a temperature of 45 deg. at sunrise. In a few miles I
noticed, where a little stream crossed the road, fragments of _scoriated
basalt_ scattered about--the first volcanic rock we had seen, and which
now became a characteristic rock along our future road. In about six
miles' travel from our encampment, we reached one of the points in our
journey to which we had always looked forward with great interest--the
famous _Beer springs_. The place in which they are situated is a
basin of mineral waters enclosed by the mountains, which sweep around a
circular bend of Bear river, here at its most northern point, and which,
from a northern, in the course of a few miles acquires a southern
direction towards the GREAT SALT LAKE. A pretty little stream of clear
water enters the upper part of the basin, from an open valley in the
mountains, and, passing through the bottom, discharges into Bear river.
Crossing this stream, we descended a mile below, and made our encampment
in a grove of cedar immediately at the Beer springs, which, on account of
the effervescing gas and acid taste, have received their name from the
voyageurs and trappers of the country, who, in the midst of their rude and
hard lives, are fond of finding some fancied resemblance to the luxuries
they rarely have the fortune to enjoy.

Although somewhat disappointed in the expectations which various
descriptions had led me to form of unusual beauty of situation and
scenery, I found it altogether a place of very great interest; and a
traveler for the first time in a volcanic region remains in a constant
excitement, and at every step is arrested by something remarkable and new.
There is a confusion of interesting objects gathered together in a small
space. Around the place of encampment the Beer springs were numerous; but,
as far as we could ascertain, were confined entirely to that locality in
the bottom. In the bed of the river, in front, for a space of several
hundred yards, they were very abundant; the effervescing gas rising up and
agitating the water in countless bubbling columns. In the vicinity round
about were numerous springs of an entirely different and equally marked
mineral character. In a rather picturesque spot about 1,300 yards below
our encampment, and immediately on the river bank, is the most remarkable
spring of the place. In an opening on the rock, a white column of
scattered water is thrown up, in form like a _jet-d'eau_, to a
variable height of about three feet, and, though it is maintained in a
constant supply, its greatest height is only attained at regular
intervals, according to the action of the force below. It is accompanied
by a subterranean noise, which, together with the motion of the water,
makes very much the impression of a steamboat in motion; and, without
knowing that it had been already previously so called, we gave to it the
name of the _Steamboat spring_. The rock through which it is forced
is slightly raised in a convex manner, and gathered at the opening into an
urn-mouthed form, and is evidently formed by continued deposition from the
water, and colored bright red by oxide of iron. An analysis of this
deposited rock, which I subjoin, will give you some idea of the properties
of the water, which, with the exception of the Beer springs, is the
mineral water of the place.
[Footnote:
ANALYSIS.
Carbonate of lime - - - 92.55
Carbonate of magnesia -  0.42
Oxide of iron - - - - -  1.05

Silica- - - - - -}
Alumina - - - - -}- - -  5.98
Water and loss- -}     _______
                       100.00]
It is a hot spring, and the water has a pungent and disagreeable metallic
taste, leaving a burning effect on the tongue. Within perhaps two yards of
the _jet-d'eau_ is a small hole of about an inch in diameter, through
which, at regular intervals, escapes a blast of hot air, with a light
wreath of smoke, accompanied by a regular noise. This hole had been
noticed by Dr. Wislizenus, a gentleman who had several years since passed
by this place, and who remarked, with very nice observation, that smelling
the gas which issued from the orifice produced a sensation of giddiness
and nausea. Mr. Preuss and myself repeated the observation, and were so
well satisfied with its correctness, that we did not find it pleasant to
continue the experiment, as the sensation of giddiness which it produced
was certainly strong and decided. A huge emigrant wagon, with a large and
diversified family had overtaken us and halted to noon at our encampment;
and, while we were sitting at the spring, a band of boys and girls, with
two or three young men, came up, one of whom I asked to stoop down and
smell the gas, desirous to satisfy myself further of its effects. But his
natural caution had been awakened by the singular and suspicious features
of the place, and he declined my proposal decidedly, and with a few
indistinct remarks about the devil, whom he seemed to consider the
_genius loci_. The ceaseless motion and the play of the fountain, the
red rock and the green trees near, make this a picturesque spot.

A short distance above the spring, and near the foot of the same spur, is
a very remarkable, yellow-colored rock, soft and friable, consisting
principally of carbonate of lime and oxide of iron, of regular structure,
which is probably a fossil coral. The rocky bank along the shore between
the Steamboat spring and our encampment, along which is dispersed the
water from the hills, is composed entirely of strata of a calcareous
_tufa_, with the remains of moss and reed-like grasses, which is
probably the formation of springs. The _Beer_ or _Soda springs_,
which have given name to this locality, are agreeable, but less highly
flavored than the Boiling springs at the foot of Pike's peak, which are of
the same character. They are very numerous, and half hidden by tufts of
grass, which we amused ourselves in removing and searching about for more
highly impregnated springs. They are some of them deep, and of various
sizes--sometimes several yards in diameter, and kept in constant motion by
columns of escaping gas. By analysis, one quart of the water contains as
follows:

                                 Grains.

Sulphate of magnesia------------ 12.10
Sulphate of lime----------------  2.12
Carbonate of lime---------------  3.86
Carbonate of magnesia-----------  3.22
Chloride of calcium-------------  1.33
Chloride of magnesium-----------  1.12
Chloride of sodium--------------  2.24
Vegetable extractive matter, &c-- 0.85
                                 _____
                                 26.84

The carbonic acid, originally contained in the water, had mainly escaped
before it was subjected to analysis; and it was not, therefore, taken into
consideration.

In the afternoon I wandered about among the cedars, which occupy the
greater part of the bottom towards the mountains. The soil here has a dry
and calcined appearance; in some places, the open grounds are covered with
saline efflorescences, and there are a number of regularly-shaped and very
remarkable hills, which are formed of a succession of convex strata that
have been deposited by the waters of extinct springs, the orifices of
which are found on their summits, some of them having the form of funnel-
shaped cones. Others of these remarkably-shaped hills are of a red-colored
earth, entirely bare, and composed principally of carbonate of lime, with
oxide of iron, formed in the same manner. Walking near one of them, on the
summit of which the springs were dry, my attention was attracted by an
underground noise, around which I circled repeatedly, until I found the
spot from beneath which it came; and, removing the red earth, discovered a
hidden spring, which was boiling up from below, with the same disagreeable
metallic taste as the Steamboat spring. Continuing up the bottom, and
crossing the little stream which has been already mentioned, I visited
several remarkable red and white hills, which had attracted my attention
from the road in the morning. These are immediately upon the stream, and,
like those already mentioned, are formed by the deposition of successive
strata from the springs. On their summits, the orifices through which the
waters had been discharged were so large, that they resembled miniature
craters, being some of them several feet in diameter, circular, and
regularly formed as if by art. At a former time, when these dried-up
fountains were all in motion, they must have made a beautiful display on a
grand scale; and nearly all this basin appears to me to have been formed
under their action, and should be called the _place of fountains_. At
the foot of one of these hills, or rather on its side near the base, are
several of these small limestone columns, about one foot in diameter at
the base, and tapering upwards to a height of three or four feet; and on
the summit the water is boiling up and bubbling over, constantly adding to
the height of the little obelisks. In some, the water only boils up, no
longer overflowing, and has here the same taste as at the Steamboat
spring. The observer will remark a gradual subsidence in the water, which
formerly supplied the fountains; as on all the summits of the hills the
springs are now dry, and are found only low down upon their sides, or on
the surrounding plain.

A little higher up the creek its banks are formed by strata of very heavy
and hard scoriaceous basalt, having a bright metallic lustre when broken.
The mountains overlooking the plain are of an entirely different
geological character. Continuing on, I walked to the summit of one of
them, where the principal rock was a granular quartz. Descending the
mountains, and returning towards the camp along the base of the ridge
which skirts the plain, I found, at the foot of a mountain spur, and
issuing from a compact rock of a dark blue color, a great number of
springs having the same pungent and disagreeably metallic taste already
mentioned, the water of which was collected into a very remarkable basin,
whose singularity, perhaps, made it appear to me very beautiful. It is
large--perhaps fifty yards in circumference; and in it the water is
contained, at an elevation of several feet above the surrounding ground,
by a wall of calcareous _tufa_, composed principally of the remains
of mosses, three or four, and sometimes ten feet high. The water within is
very clear and pure, and three or four feet deep, where it could be
measured, near the wall; and at a considerably low level, is another pond
or basin of very clear water, and apparently of considerable depth, from
the bottom of which the gas was escaping in bubbling columns at many
places. This water was collected into a small stream, which, in a few
hundred yards, sank under ground, reappearing among the rocks between the
two great springs near the river, which it entered by a little fall.

Late in the afternoon I set out on my return to the camp, and, crossing in
the way a large field of salt that was several inches deep, found on my
arrival that our emigrant friends, who had been encamped in company with
us, had resumed their journey, and the road had again assumed its solitary
character. The temperature of the largest of the _Beer_ springs at
our encampment was 65 deg. at sunset, that of the air being 62.5 deg.. Our
barometric observation gave 5,840 feet for the elevation above the gulf,
being about 500 feet lower than the Boiling springs, which are of a
similar nature, at the foot of Pike's peak. The astronomical observations
gave for our latitude 42 deg. 39' 57", and 111 deg. 46' 00" for the longitude.
The night was very still and cloudless, and I sat up for an observation of
the first satellite of Jupiter, the emersion of which took place about
midnight; but fell asleep at the telescope, awaking just a few minutes
after the appearance of the star.

The morning of the 26th was calm, and the sky without clouds, but smoky,
and the temperature at sunrise 28.5 deg.. At the same time, the temperature of
the large Beer spring, where we were encamped, was 56 deg.; that of the
Steamboat spring 87 deg., and that of the steam-hole, near it, 81.5 deg.. In the
course of the morning, the last wagons of the emigration passed by, and we
were again left in our place, in the rear.

Remaining in camp until nearly 11 o'clock, we traveled a short distance
down the river, and halted to noon on the bank, at a point where the road
quits the valley of Bear river, and, crossing a ridge which divides the
Great basin from the Pacific waters, reaches Fort Hall, by way of the
Portneuf river, in a distance of probably fifty miles, or two and a half
days' journey for wagons. An examination of the great lake which is the
outlet of this river, and the principal feature of geographical interest
in the basin, was one of the main objects contemplated in the general plan
of our survey, and I accordingly determined at this place to leave the
road, and, after having completed a reconnoissance of the lake, regain it
subsequently at Fort Hall. But our little stock of provisions had again
become extremely low; we had only dried meat sufficient for one meal, and
our supply of flour and other comforts was entirely exhausted. I therefore
immediately dispatched one of the party, Henry Lee, with a note to Carson,
at Fort Hall, directing him to load a pack-horse with whatever could be
obtained there in the way of provisions, and endeavor to overtake me on
the river. In the mean time, we had picked up along the road two tolerably
well-grown calves, which would have become food for wolves, and which had
probably been left by some of the earlier emigrants, none of those we had
met having made any claim to them; and on these I mainly relied for
support during our circuit to the lake.

In sweeping around the point of the mountain which runs down into the
bend, the river here passes between perpendicular walls of basalt, which
always fix the attention, from the regular form in which it occurs, and
its perfect distinctness from the surrounding rocks among which it had
been placed. The mountain, which is rugged and steep, and, by our
measurement, 1,400 feet above the river directly opposite the place of our
halt, is called the _Sheep-rock_--probably because a flock of the
mountain sheep (_ovis montana_) had been seen on the craggy point.

As we were about resuming our march in the afternoon, I was attracted by
the singular appearance of an isolated hill with a concave summit, in the
plain, about two miles from the river, and turned off towards it, while
the camp proceeded on its way southward in search of the lake. I found the
thin and stony soil of the plain entirely underlaid by the basalt which
forms the river walls; and when I reached the neighborhood of the hill,
the surface of the plain was rent into frequent fissures and chasms of the
same scoriated volcanic rock, from 40 to 60 feet deep, but which there was
not sufficient light to penetrate entirely, and which I had not time to
descend. Arrived at the summit of the hill, I found that it terminated in
a very perfect crater, of an oval, or nearly circular form, 360 paces in
circumference, and 60 feet at the greatest depth. The walls, which were
perfectly vertical, and disposed like masonry in a very regular manner,
were composed of a brown-colored scoriaceous lava, similar to the light
scoriaceous lava of Mt. Etna, Vesuvius, and other volcanoes. The faces of
the walls were reddened and glazed by the fire, in which they had been
melted, and which had left them contorted and twisted by its violent
action.

Our route luring the afternoon was a little rough, being (in the direction
we had taken) over a volcanic plain, where our progress was sometimes
obstructed by fissures, and black beds, composed of fragments of the rock.
On both sides, the mountains appeared very broken, but tolerably well
timbered.

Crossing a point of ridge which makes in to the river, we fell upon it
again before sunset, and encamped on the right bank, opposite to the
encampment of three lodges of Snake Indians. They visited us during the
evening, and we obtained from them a small quantity of roots of different
kinds, in exchange for goods. Among them was a sweet root of very pleasant
flavor, having somewhat the taste of preserved quince. My endeavors to
become acquainted with the plants which furnish to the Indians a portion
of their support, were only gradually successful, and after long and
persevering attention; and even after obtaining, I did not succeed in
preserving them until they could be satisfactorily determined. In this
portion of the journey, I found this particular root cut up into small
pieces, that it was only to be identified by its taste, when the bulb was
met with in perfect form among the Indians lower down on the Columbia,
among whom it is the highly celebrated kamas. It was long afterwards, on
our return through Upper California, that I found the plant itself in
bloom, which I supposed to furnish the kamas root, (_camassia
esculenta_.) The root diet had a rather mournful effect at the
commencement, and one of the calves was killed this evening for food. The
animals fared well on rushes.

27th.--The morning was cloudy, with appearance of rain, and the
thermometer at sunrise at 29 deg.. Making an unusually early start, we crossed
the river at a good ford; and, following for about three hours a trail
which led along the bottom, we entered a labyrinth of hills below the main
ridge, and halted to noon in the ravine of a pretty little stream,
timbered with cottonwood of a large size, ash-leaved maple, with cherry
and other shrubby trees. The hazy weather, which had prevented any very
extended views since entering the Green River valley, began now to
disappear. There was a slight rain in the earlier part of the day, and at
noon, when the thermometer had risen to 79.5 deg., we had a bright sun, with
blue sky and scattered _cumuli_. According to the barometer, our halt
there among the hills was at an elevation of 5,320 feet. Crossing a
dividing ridge in the afternoon, we followed down another little Bear
River tributary, to the point where it emerged on an open green flat among
the hills, timbered with groves, and bordered with cane thickets, but
without water. A pretty little rivulet coming out of the hillside, and
overhung by tall flowering plants of a species I had not hitherto seen,
furnished us with a good camping-place. The evening was cloudy, the
temperature at sunset 69 deg., and the elevation 5,140 feet. Among the plants
occurring along the road during the day, _epinettes des prairies_
(grindelia squarraso) was in considerable abundance, and is among the very
few plants remaining in bloom--the whole country having now an autumnal
appearance, in the crisp and yellow plants, and dried-up grasses. Many
cranes were seen during the day, with a few antelope, very shy and wild.

28th.--During the night we had a thunder-storm, with moderate rain, which
has made the air this morning very clear, the thermometer being at 55 deg..
Leaving our encampment at the _Cane spring_, and quitting the trail
on which we had been traveling, and which would probably have afforded us
a good road to the lake, we crossed some very deep ravines, and, in about
an hour's traveling, again reached the river. We were now in a valley five
or six miles wide, between mountain ranges, which, about thirty miles
below, appeared to close up and terminate the valley, leaving for the
river only a very narrow pass, or canon, behind which we imagined we would
find the broad waters of the lake. We made the usual halt at the mouth of
a small clear stream, having a slightly mineral taste, (perhaps of salt,)
4,760 feet above the gulf. In the afternoon we climbed a very steep sandy
hill; and after a slow and winding day's march of 27 miles, encamped at a
slough on the river. There were great quantities of geese and, ducks, of
which only a few were shot; the Indians having probably made them very
wild. The men employed themselves in fishing but caught nothing. A skunk,
(_mephitis Americana_,) which was killed in the afternoon, made a
supper for one of the messes. The river is bordered occasionally with
fields of cane, which we regarded as an indication of our approach to a
lake-country. We had frequent showers of rain during the night, with
thunder.

29th.--The thermometer at sunrise was 54 deg., with air from the NW., and dark
rainy clouds moving on the horizon; rain squalls and bright sunshine by
intervals. I rode ahead with Basil to explore the country, and, continuing
about three miles along the river, turned directly off on a trail running
towards three marked gaps in the bordering range, where the mountains
appeared cut through their bases, towards which the river plain rose
gradually. Putting our horses into a gallop on some fresh tracks which
showed very plainly in the wet path, we came suddenly upon a small party
of Shoshonee Indians, who had fallen into the trail from the north. We
could only communicate by signs; but they made us understand that the road
through the chain was a very excellent one, leading into a broad valley
which ran to the southward. We halted to noon at what may be called the
gate of the pass; on either side of which were huge mountains of rock,
between which stole a little pure water stream, with a margin just
sufficiently large for our passage. From the river, the plain had
gradually risen to an altitude of 5,500 feet, and, by meridian
observation, the latitude of the entrance was 42 deg..

In the interval of our usual halt, several of us wandered along up the
stream to examine the pass more at leisure. Within the gate, the rocks
receded a little back, leaving a very narrow, but most beautiful valley,
through which the little stream wound its way, hidden by the different
kinds of trees and shrubs--aspen, maple, willow, cherry, and elder; a fine
verdure of smooth short grass spread over the remaining space to the bare
sides of the rocky walls. These were of a blue limestone, which
constitutes the mountain here; and opening directly on the grassy bottom
were several curious caves, which appeared to be inhabited by root-
diggers. On one side was gathered a heap of leaves for a bed, and they
were dry, open, and pleasant. On the roofs of the caves I remarked
bituminous exudations from the rock.

The trail was an excellent one for pack-horses; but as it sometimes
crossed a shelving point, to avoid the shrubbery we were obliged in
several places to open a road for the carriage through the wood. A squaw
on horseback, accompanied by five or six dogs, entered the pass in the
afternoon; but was too much terrified at finding herself in such
unexpected company to make any pause for conversation, and hurried off at
a good pace--being, of course, no further disturbed than by an
accelerating shout. She was well and showily dressed, and was probably
going to a village encamped somewhere near, and evidently did not belong
to the tribe of _root-diggers_. We now had entered a country
inhabited by these people; and as in the course of the voyage we shall
frequently meet with them in various stages of existence, it will be well
to inform you that, scattered over the great region west of the Rocky
mountains, and south of the Great Snake river, are numerous Indians whose
subsistence is almost solely derived from roots and seeds, and such small
animals as chance and great good fortune sometimes bring within their
reach. They are miserably poor, armed only with bows and arrows, or clubs;
and, as the country they inhabit is almost destitute of game, they have no
means of obtaining better arms. In the northern part of the region just
mentioned, they live generally in solitary families; and farther to the
south they are gathered together in villages. Those who live together in
villages, strengthened by association, are in exclusive possession of the
more genial and richer parts of the country; while the others are driven
to the ruder mountains, and to the more inhospitable parts of the country.
But by simply observing, in accompanying us along our road, you will
become better acquainted with these people than we could make you in any
other than a very long description, and you will find them worthy of your
interest.

Roots, seeds, and grass, every vegetable that affords any nourishment, and
every living animal thing, insect or worm, they eat. Nearly approaching to
the lower animal creation, their sole employment is to obtain food; and
they are constantly occupied in struggling to support existence.

The most remarkable feature of the pass is the _Standing rock_, which
has fallen from the cliffs above, and standing perpendicularly near the
middle of the valley, presents itself like a watch-tower in the pass. It
will give you a tolerably correct idea of the character of the scenery in
this country, where generally the mountains rise abruptly up from
comparatively unbroken plains and level valleys; but it will entirely fail
in representing the picturesque beauty of this delightful place, where a
green valley, full of foliage and a hundred yards wide, contrasts with
naked crags that spire up into a blue line of pinnacles 3,000 feet above,
sometimes crested with cedar and pine, and sometimes ragged and bare.

The detention that we met with in opening the road, and perhaps a
willingness to linger on the way, made the afternoon's travel short; and
about two miles from the entrance, we passed through another gate, and
encamped on the stream at the junction of a little fork from the
southward, around which the mountains stooped more gently down, forming a
small open cove.

As it was still early in the afternoon, Basil and myself in one direction,
and Mr. Preuss in another, set out to explore the country, and ascended
different neighboring peaks, in the hope of seeing some indications of the
lake; but though our elevation afforded magnificent views, the eye ranging
over a large extent of Bear river, with the broad and fertile _Cache
valley_ in the direction of our search, was only to be seen a bed of
apparently impracticable mountains. Among these, the trail we had been
following turned sharply to the northward, and it began to be doubtful if
it would not lead us away from the object of our destination; but I
nevertheless determined to keep it, in the belief that it would eventually
bring us right. A squall of rain drove us out of the mountain, and it was
late when we reached the camp. The evening closed in with frequent showers
of rain, with some lightning and thunder.

30th.--We had constant thunder-storms during the night, but in the morning
the clouds were sinking to the horizon, and the air was clear and cold,
with the thermometer at sunrise at 39 deg.. Elevation by barometer 5,580 feet.
We were in motion early, continuing up the little stream without
encountering any ascent where a horse would not easily gallop; and,
crossing a slight dividing ground at the summit, descended upon a small
stream, along which continued the same excellent road. In riding through
the pass, numerous cranes were seen; and prairie hens, or grouse,
(_bonasia umbellus_,) which lately had been rare, were very abundant.

This little affluent brought us to a larger stream, down which we traveled
through a more open bottom, on a level road, where heavily-laden wagons
could pass without obstacle. The hills on the right grew lower, and, on
entering a more open country, we discovered a Shoshonee village; and being
desirous to obtain information, and purchase from them some roots and
berries, we halted on the river, which was lightly wooded with cherry,
willow, maple, service-berry, and aspen. A meridian observation of the
sun, which I obtained here, gave 42 deg. 14' 22" for our latitude, and the
barometer indicated a height of 5,170 feet. A number of Indians came
immediately over to visit us, and several men were sent to the village
with goods, tobacco, knives, cloth, vermilion, and the usual trinkets, to
exchange for provisions. But they had no game of any kind; and it was
difficult to obtain any roots from them, as they were miserably poor, and
had but little to spare from their winter stock of provisions. Several of
the Indians drew aside their blankets, showing me their lean and bony
figures; and I would not any longer tempt them with a display of our
merchandise to part with their wretched subsistence, when they gave as a
reason that it would expose them to temporary starvation. A great portion
of the region inhabited by this nation, formerly abounded in game--the
buffalo ranging about in herds, as we had found them on the eastern
waters, and the plains dotted with scattered bands of antelope; but so
rapidly have they disappeared within a few years, that now, as we
journeyed along, an occasional buffalo skull and a few wild antelope were
all that remained of the abundance which had covered the country with
animal life.

The extraordinary rapidity with which the buffalo is disappearing from our
territories will not appear surprising when we remember the great scale on
which their destruction is yearly carried on. With inconsiderable
exceptions, the business of the American trading-posts is carried on in
their skins; every year the Indian villages make new lodges, for which the
skin of the buffalo furnishes the material; and in that portion of the
country where they are still found, the Indians derive their entire
support from them, and slaughter them with a thoughtless and abominable
extravagance. Like the Indians themselves, they have been a characteristic
of the Great West; and as, like them, they are visibly diminishing, it
will be interesting to throw a glance backward through the last twenty
years, and give some account of their former distribution through the
country, and the limit of their western range.

The information is derived principally from Mr. Fitzpatrick, supported by
my own personal knowledge and acquaintance with the country. Our knowledge
does not go farther back than the spring of 1824, at which time the
buffalo were spread in immense numbers over the Green River and Bear River
valleys, and through all the country lying between the Colorado, or Green
river of the Gulf of California, and Lewis's fork of the Columbia river;
the meridian of Fort Hall then forming the western limit of their range.
The buffalo then remained for many years in that country, and frequently
moved down the valley of the Columbia, on both sides of the river as far
as the _Fishing falls_. Below this point they never descended in any
numbers. About the year 1834 or 1835 they began to diminish very rapidly,
and continued to decrease until 1838 or 1840, when, with the country we
have just described, they entirely abandoned all the waters of the Pacific
north of Lewis's fork of the Columbia. At that time, the Flathead Indians
were in the habit of finding their buffalo on the heads of Salmon river,
and other streams of the Columbia; but now they never meet with them
farther west than the three forks of the Missouri, or the plains of the
Yellow-stone river.

In the course of our journey it will be remarked that the buffalo have not
so entirely abandoned the waters of the Pacific, in the Rocky-Mountain
region south of the Sweet Water, as in the country north of the Great
Pass. This partial distribution can only be accounted for in the great
pastoral beauty of that country, which bears marks of having been one of
their favorite haunts, and by the fact that the white hunters have more
frequented the northern than the southern region--it being north of the
South Pass that the hunters, trappers, and traders, have had their
rendezvous for many years past; and from that section also the greater
portion of the beaver and rich furs were taken, although always the most
dangerous as well as the most profitable hunting-ground.

In that region lying between the Green or Colorado river and the head-
waters of the Rio del Norte, over the _Yampah, Kooyah, White_, and
_Grand_ rivers--all of which are the waters of the Colorado--the
buffalo never extended so far to the westward as they did on the waters of
the Columbia; and only in one or two instances have they been known to
descend as far west as the mouth of White river. In traveling through the
country west of the Rocky mountains, observation readily led me to the
impression that the buffalo had, for the first time, crossed that range to
the waters of the Pacific only a few years prior to the period we are
considering; and in this opinion I am sustained by Mr. Fitzpatrick, and
the older trappers in that country. In the region west of the Rocky
mountains, we never meet with any of the ancient vestiges which,
throughout all the country lying upon their eastern waters, are found in
the _great highways_, continuous for hundreds of miles, always
several inches, and sometimes several feet in depth, which the buffalo
have made in crossing from one river to another, or in traversing the
mountain ranges. The Snake Indians, more particularly those low down upon
Lewis's fork, have always been very grateful to the American trappers, for
the great kindness (as they frequently expressed it) which they did to
them, in driving the buffalo so low down the Columbia river.

The extraordinary abundance of the buffalo on the east side of the Rocky
mountains, and their extraordinary diminution, will be made clearly
evident from the following statement: At any time between the years 1824
and 1836, a traveler might start from any given point south or north in
the Rocky Mountain range, journeying by the most direct route to the
Missouri river; and, during the whole distance, his road would always be
among large bands of buffalo, which would never be out of his view until
he arrived almost within sight of the abodes of civilization.

At this time, the buffalo occupy but a very limited space, principally
along the eastern base of the Rocky mountains, sometimes extending at
their southern extremity to a considerable distance into the plains
between the Platte and Arkansas rivers, and along the eastern frontier of
New Mexico as far south as Texas.

The following statement, which I owe to the kindness of Mr. Sanford, a
partner in the American Fur Company, will further illustrate this subject,
by extensive knowledge acquired during several years of travel through the
region inhabited by the buffalo:

"The total amount of robes annually traded by ourselves and others will
not be found to differ much from the following statement:

                                 Robes.

American Fur Company             70,000
Hudson's Bay Company             10,000
All other companies, probably    10,000
                                -------
Making a total of                90,000
as an average annual  return for the last eight or ten years.


"In the northwest, the Hudson's Bay Company purchase from the Indians but
a very small number--their only market being Canada, to which the cost of
transportation nearly equals the produce of the furs; and it is only
within a very recent period that they have received buffalo robes in
trade; and out of the great number of buffalo annually killed throughout
the extensive region inhabited by the Camanches and other kindred tribes,
no robes whatever are furnished for trade. During only four months of the
year, (from November until March,) the skins are good for dressing; those
obtained in the remaining eight months are valueless to traders; and the
hides of bulls are never taken off or dressed as robes at any season.
Probably not more than one-third of the skins are taken from the animals
killed, even when they are in good season, the labor of preparing and
dressing the robes being very great; and it is seldom that a lodge trades
more than twenty skins in a year. It is during the summer months, and in
the early part of autumn, that the greatest number of buffalo are killed,
and yet at this time a skin is never taken for the purpose of trade."

From these data, which are certainly limited, and decidedly within bounds,
the reader is left to draw his own inference of the immense number
annually killed.

In 1842, I found the Sioux Indians of the Upper Platte _demontes_, as
their French traders expressed it, with the failure of the buffalo; and in
the following year, large villages from the Upper Missouri came over to
the mountains at the heads of the Platte, in search of them. The rapidly
progressive failure of their principal, and almost their only means of
subsistence, has created great alarm among them; and at this time there
are only two modes presented to them, by which they see a good prospect
for escaping starvation: one of these is to rob the settlements along the
frontier of the States; and the other is to form a league between the
various tribes of the Sioux nation, the Cheyennes, and Arapahoes, and make
war against the Crow nation, in order to take from them their country,
which is now the best buffalo country in the west. This plan they now have
in consideration; and it would probably be a war of extermination, as the
Crows have long been advised of this state of affairs, and say that they
are perfectly prepared. These are the best warriors in the Rocky
mountains, and are now allied with the Snake Indians; and it is probable
that their combination would extend itself to the Utahs, who have long
been engaged in war against the Sioux. It is in this section of country
that my observation formerly led me to recommend the establishment of a
military post.

The farther course of our narrative will give fuller and more detailed
information of the present disposition of the buffalo in the country we
visited.

Among the roots we obtained here, I could distinguish only five or six
different kinds; and the supply of the Indians whom we met consisted
principally of yampah, (_anethum graveolens_,) tobacoo-root,
(_valeriana_,) and a large root of a species of thistle, (_circium
Virginianum_,) which now is occasionally abundant and is a very
agreeably flavored vegetable.

We had been detained so long at the village, that in the afternoon we made
only five miles, and encamped on the same river after a day's journey of
19 miles. The Indians informed us that we should reach the big salt water
after having slept twice and traveling in a south direction. The stream
had here entered nearly a level plain or valley, of good soil, eight or
ten miles broad, to which no termination was to be seen, and lying between
ranges of mountains which, on the right, were grassy and smooth, unbroken
by rock, and lower than on the left, where they were rocky and bald,
increasing in height to the southward. On the creek were fringes of young
willows, older trees being rarely found on the plains, where the Indians
burn the surface to produce better grass. Several magpies (_pica
Hudsopica_) were seen on the creek this afternoon; and a rattlesnake
was killed here, the first which had been seen since leaving the eastern
plains. Our camp to-night had such a hungry appearance that I suffered the
little cow to be killed, and divided the roots and berries among the
people. A number of Indians from the village encamped near.

The weather the next morning was clear, the thermometer at sunrise at
44.5 deg.; and, continuing down the valley, in about five miles we followed
the little creek of our encampment to its junction with a larger stream,
called _Roseaux_, or Reed river. Immediately opposite, on the right,
the range was gathered into its highest peak, sloping gradually low, and
running off to a point apparently some forty or fifty miles below. Between
this (now become the valley stream) and the foot of the mountains, we
journeyed along a handsome sloping level, which frequent springs from the
hills made occasionally miry, and halted to noon at a swampy spring, where
there were good grass and abundant rushes. Here the river was forty feet
wide, with a considerable current, and the valley a mile and a half in
breadth; the soil being generally good, of a dark color, and apparently
well adapted to cultivation. The day had become bright and pleasant, with
the thermometer at 71 deg.. By observation, our latitude was 41 deg. 59' 31", and
the elevation above the sea 4,670 feet. On our left, this afternoon, the
range at long intervals formed itself into peaks, appearing to terminate,
about forty miles below, in a rocky cape, beyond which several others were
faintly visible; and we were disappointed when, at every little rise, we
did not see the lake. Towards evening, our way was somewhat obstructed by
fields of _artemisia_, which began to make their appearance here, and
we encamped on the Roseaux, the water of which had acquired a decidedly
salt taste, nearly opposite to a canon gap in the mountains, through which
the Bear river enters this valley. As we encamped, the night set in dark
and cold, with heavy rain, and the artemisia, which was our only wood, was
so wet that it would not burn. A poor, nearly starved dog, with a wound in
his side from a ball, came to the camp, and remained with us until the
winter, when he met a very unexpected fate.



SEPTEMBER.


1st.--The morning was squally and cold; the sky scattered over with
clouds; and the night had been so uncomfortable, that we were not on the
road until eight o'clock. Traveling between Roseaux and Bear rivers, we
continued to descend the valley, which gradually expanded, as we advanced,
into a level plain, of good soil, about 25 miles in breadth, between
mountains 3,000 and 4,000 feet high, rising suddenly to the clouds, which
all day rested upon the peaks. These gleamed out in the occasional
sunlight, mantled with the snow, which had fallen upon them, while it
rained on us in the valley below, of which the elevation here was 4,500
feet above the sea. The country before us plainly indicated that we were
approaching the lake, though, as the ground we were traveling afforded no
elevated point, nothing of it as yet could be seen; and at a great
distance ahead were several isolated mountains resembling islands, which
they were afterwards found to be. On this upper plain, the grass was
everywhere dead; and among the shrubs with which it was almost exclusively
occupied, (artemisia being the most abundant,) frequently occurred
handsome clusters of several species of _dieteria_ in bloom.
_Purshia tridentata_ was among the frequent shrubs. Descending to the
bottoms of Bear river, we found good grass for the animals, and encamped
about 300 yards above the mouth of Roseaux, which here makes its junction,
without communicating any of its salty taste to the main stream, of which
the water remains perfectly pure. On the river are only willow thickets,
(_salix longifolia_,) and in the bottoms the abundant plants are
canes, soldiago, and helianthi, and along the banks of Roseaux are fields
of _malva rotundifolia_. At sunset the thermometer was at 54.5 deg., and
the evening clear and calm; but I deferred making any use of it until one
o'clock in the morning, when I endeavored to obtain an emersion of the
first satellite; but it was lost in a bank of clouds, which also rendered
our usual observations indifferent.

Among the useful things which formed a portion of our equipage, was an
India-rubber boat, 18 feet long, made somewhat in the form of a bark canoe
of the northern lakes. The sides were formed by two air-tight cylinders,
eighteen inches in diameter, connected with others forming the bow and
stern. To lessen the danger from accidents to the boat, these were divided
into four different compartments, and the interior space was sufficiently
large to contain five or six persons, and a considerable weight of
baggage. The Roseaux being too deep to be forded, our boat was filled with
air, and in about one hour all the equipage of the camp, carriage and gun
included, ferried across. Thinking that perhaps in the course of the day
we might reach the outlet of the lake, I got into the boat with Basil
Lajeunesse, and paddled down Bear river, intending at night to rejoin the
party, which in the mean time proceeded on its way. The river was from
sixty to one hundred yards broad, and the water so deep, that even on the
comparatively shallow points we could not reach the bottom with 15 feet.
On either side were alternately low bottoms and willow points, with an
occasional high prairie; and for five or six hours we followed slowly the
winding course of the river, which crept along with a sluggish current
among frequent _detours_ several miles around, sometimes running for
a considerable distance directly up the valley. As we were stealing
quietly down the stream, trying in vain to get a shot at a strange large
bird that was numerous among the willows, but very shy, we came
unexpectedly upon several families of _Root-Diggers_, who were
encamped among the rushes on the shore, and appeared very busy about
several weirs or nets which had been rudely made of canes and rushes for
the purpose of catching fish. They were very much startled at our
appearance, but we soon established an acquaintance; and finding that they
had some roots, I promised to send some men with goods to trade with them.
They had the usual very large heads, remarkable among the Digger tribe,
with matted hair, and were almost entirely naked: looking very poor and
miserable, as if their lives had been spent in the rushes where they were,
beyond which they seemed to have very little knowledge of any thing. From
the words we could comprehend, their language was that of the Snake
Indians.

Our boat moved so heavily, that we had made very little progress; and,
finding that it would be impossible to overtake the camp, as soon as we
were sufficiently far below the Indians, we put to the shore near a high
prairie bank, hauled up the boat, and _cached_ our effects in the
willows. Ascending the bank, we found that our desultory labor had brought
us only a few miles in a direct line; and, going out into the prairie,
after a search we found the trail of the camp, which was nowhere in sight,
but had followed the general course of the river in a large circular sweep
which it makes at this place. The sun was about three hours high when we
found the trail; and as our people had passed early in the day, we had the
prospect of a vigorous walk before us. Immediately where we landed, the
high arable plain on which we had been traveling, for several days past,
terminated in extensive low flats, very generally occupied by salt
marshes, or beds of shallow lakes, whence the water had in most places
evaporated, leaving their hard surface incrusted with a shining white
residuum; and absolutely covered with very small _univalve_ shells.
As we advanced, the whole country around us assumed this appearance; and
there was no other vegetation than the shrubby chenopodiaceous and other
apparently saline plants, which were confined to the rising grounds. Here
and there, on the river bank, which was raised like a levee above the
flats through which it ran, was a narrow border of grass and short black-
burnt willows; the stream being very deep and sluggish, and sometimes six
hundred to eight hundred feet wide. After a rapid walk of about fifteen
miles, we caught sight of the camp-fires among clumps of willows, just as
the sun had sunk behind the mountains on the west side of the valley,
filling the clear sky with a golden yellow. These last rays, to us so
precious, could not have revealed a more welcome sight. To the traveler
and the hunter, a camp-fire in the lonely wilderness is always cheering;
and to ourselves, in our present situation, after a hard march in a region
of novelty, approaching the _debouches_ of a river, in a lake of
almost fabulous reputation, it was doubly so. A plentiful supper of
aquatic birds, and the interest of the scene, soon dissipated fatigue; and
I obtained during the night emersions of the second, third, and fourth
satellites of Jupiter, with observations for time and latitude.

3d.--The morning was clear, with a light air from the north, and the
thermometer at sunrise at 45.5 deg.. At three in the morning, Basil was sent
back with several men and horses for the boat, which, in a direct course
across the flats, was not ten miles distant; and in the mean time there
was a pretty spot of grass here for the animals. The ground was so low
that we could not get high enough to see across the river, on account of
the willows; but we were evidently in the vicinity of the lake, and the
water-fowl made this morning a noise like thunder. A pelican (_pelecanus
onocrotalus_) was killed as he passed by, and many geese and ducks flew
over the camp. On the dry salt marsh here is scarce any other plant than
_salicornia herbacea_.

In the afternoon the men returned with the boat, bringing with them a
small quantity of roots and some meat, which the Indians had told them was
bear-meat.

Descending the river for about three miles, in the afternoon, we found a
bar to any further traveling in that direction--the stream being spread
out in several branches, and covering the low grounds with water, where
the miry nature of the bottom did not permit any further advance. We were
evidently on the border of the lake, although the rushes and canes which
covered the marshes prevented any view; and we accordingly encamped at the
little _delta_ which forms the mouth of Bear river--a long arm of the
lake stretching up to the north, between us and the opposite mountains.
The river was bordered with a fringe of willows and canes, among which
were interspersed a few plants; and scattered about on the marsh was a
species of _uniola_, closely allied to _U. spicata_ of our sea-
coast. The whole morass was animated with multitudes of water-fowl, which
appeared to be very wild--rising for the space of a mile round about at
the sound of a gun, with a noise like distant thunder. Several of the
people waded out into the marshes, and we had to-night a delicious supper
of ducks, geese, and plover.

Although the moon was bright, the night was otherwise favorable; and I
obtained this evening an emersion of the first satellite, with the usual
observations. A mean result, depending on various observations made during
our stay in the neighborhood, places the mouth of the river in longitude
112 deg. 19' 30" west from Greenwich; latitude 41 deg. 30' 22"; and, according to
the barometer, in elevation 4,200 feet above the Gulf of Mexico. The night
was clear, with considerable dew, which I had remarked every night since
the first of September. The next morning, while we were preparing to
start, Carson rode into the camp with flour and a few other articles of
light provision sufficient for two or three days--a scanty but very
acceptable supply. Mr. Fitzpatrick had not yet arrived, and provisions
were very scarce, and difficult to be had at Fort Hall, which had been
entirely exhausted by the necessities of the emigrants. He brought me also
a letter from Mr. Dwight, who, in company with several emigrants, had
reached that place in advance of Mr. Fitzpatrick, and was about continuing
his journey to Vancouver.

Returning about five miles up the river, we were occupied until nearly
sunset in crossing to the left bank--the stream, which in the last five or
six miles of its course is very much narrower than above, being very deep
immediately at the banks; and we had great difficulty in getting our
animals over. The people with the baggage were easily crossed in the boat,
and we encamped on the left bank where we crossed the river. At sunset the
thermometer was at 75 deg., and there was some rain during the night, with a
thunder-storm at a distance.

5th.--Before us was evidently the bed of the lake, being a great salt
marsh, perfectly level and bare, whitened in places by saline
efflorescences, with here and there a pool of water, and having the
appearance of a very level seashore at low tide. Immediately along the
river was a very narrow strip of vegetation, consisting of willows,
helianthi, roses, flowering vines, and grass; bordered on the verge of the
great marsh by a fringe of singular plants, which appear to be a shrubby
salicornia, or a genus allied to it.

About 12 miles to the southward was one of those isolated mountains, now
appearing to be a kind of peninsula; and towards this we accordingly
directed our course, as it probably afforded a good view of the lake; but
the deepening mud as we advanced forced us to return towards the river,
and gain the higher ground at the foot of the eastern mountains. Here we
halted for a few minutes at noon, on a beautiful little stream of pure and
remarkably clear water, with a bed of rock _in situ_, on which was an
abundant water-plant with a white blossom. There was good grass in the
bottoms; and, amidst a rather luxuriant growth, its banks were bordered
with a large showy plant, (_eupatorium purpureum_,) which I here saw
for the first time. We named the stream _Clear creek_.

We continued our way along the mountain, having found here a broad
plainly-beaten trail, over what was apparently the shore of the lake in
the spring; the ground being high and firm, and the soil excellent, and
covered with vegetation, among which a leguminous plant (_glycyrrhiza
lepidota_) was a characteristic plant. The ridge here rises abruptly to
the height of about 4,000 feet, its face being very prominently marked
with a massive stratum of rose-colored granular quartz, which is evidently
an altered sedimentary rock, the lines of deposition being very distinct.
It is rocky and steep--divided into several mountains--and the rain in the
valley appears to be always snow on their summits at this season. Near a
remarkably rocky point of the mountain, at a large spring of pure water,
were several hackberry-trees, (_celtis_,) probably a new species, the
berries still green; and a short distance farther, thickets of sumach,
(_rhus_.)

On the plain here I noticed blackbirds and grouse. In about seven miles
from Clear creek, the trail brought us to a place at the foot of the
mountain where there issued, with considerable force, 10 or 12 hot
springs, highly impregnated with salt. In one of these the thermometer
stood at 136 deg., and in another at 132.5 deg., and the water, which was spread
in pools over the low ground, was colored red.

An analysis of the red earthy matter deposited in the bed of the stream
from the springs, gives the following result:

Peroxide of iron------- 33.50
Carbonate of magnesia--  2.40
Carbonate of lime------ 50.43
Sulphate of lime-------  2.00
Chloride of sodium-----  3.45
Silica and alumina------ 3.00
Water and loss---------- 5.22
                       ------
                       100.00 deg.

At this place the trail we had been following turned to the left,
apparently with a view of entering a gorge in the mountain, from which
issued the principal fork of a large and comparatively well-timbered
stream, called Weber's fork. We accordingly turned off towards the lake,
and encamped on this river, which was 100 to 150 feet wide, with high
banks, and very clear pure water, without the slightest indication of
salt.

6th.--Leaving the encampment early, we again directed our course for the
peninsular _butte_ across a low shrubby plain, crossing in the way a
slough-like creek with miry banks, and wooded with thickets of thorn,
(_crataegus_,) which were loaded with berries. This time we reached
the butte without any difficulty, and, ascending to the summit,
immediately at our feet beheld the object of our anxious search--the
waters of the Inland Sea, stretching in still and solitary grandeur far
beyond the limit of our vision. It was one of the great points of the
exploration; and as we looked eagerly over the lake in the first emotions
of excited pleasure, I am doubtful if the followers of Balboa felt more
enthusiasm when, from the heights of the Andes, they saw for the first
time the great Western ocean. It was certainly a magnificent object, and a
noble _terminus_ to this part of our expedition; and to travelers so
long shut up among mountain ranges, a sudden view over the expanse of
silent waters had in it something sublime. Several large islands raised
their high rocky heads out of the waves; but whether or not they were
timbered, was still left to our imagination, as the distance was too great
to determine if the dark hues upon them were woodland or naked rock.
During the day the clouds had been gathering black over the mountains to
the westward, and, while we were looking, a storm burst down with sudden
fury upon the lake, and entirely hid the inlands from our view. So far as
we could see, along the shores there was not a solitary tree, and but
little appearance of grass; and on Weber's fork, a few miles below our
last encampment, the timber was gathered into groves, and then disappeared
entirely. As this appeared to be the nearest point to the lake, where a
suitable camp could be found, we directed our course to one of the groves,
where we found a handsome encampment, with good grass and an abundance of
rushes, (_equisetum hyemale_.) At sunset the thermometer was at 55 deg.;
the evening clear and calm, with some cumuli.

7th.--The morning was calm and clear, with a temperature at sunrise of
39.5 deg.. The day was spent in active preparation for our intended voyage on
the lake. On the edge of the stream a favorable spot was selected in a
grove, and, felling the timber, we made a strong _coral_, or horse-
pen, for the animals, and a little fort for the people who were to remain.
We were now probably in the country of the Utah Indians, though none
reside on the lake. The India-rubber boat was repaired with prepared cloth
and gum, and filled with air, in readiness for the next day.

The provisions which Carson brought with him being now exhausted, and our
stock reduced to a small quantity of roots, I determined to retain with me
only a sufficient number of men for the execution of our design; and
accordingly seven were sent back to Fort Hall, under the guidance of
Francois Lajeunesse, who, having been for many years a trapper in the
country, was considered an experienced mountaineer. Though they were
provided with good horses, and the road was a remarkably plain one of only
four days' journey for a horse-man, they became bewildered, (as we
afterwards learned,) and, losing their way, wandered about the country in
parties of one or two, reaching the fort about a week afterwards. Some
straggled in of themselves, and the others were brought in by Indians who
had picked them up on Snake river, about sixty miles below the fort,
traveling along the emigrant road in full march for the Lower Columbia.
The leader of this adventurous party was Francois.

Hourly barometrical observations were made during the day, and, after the
departure of the party for Fort Hall, we occupied ourselves in continuing
our little preparations, and in becoming acquainted with the country in
the vicinity. The bottoms along the river were timbered with several kinds
of willow, hawthorn, and fine cottonwood-trees (_populus canadensis_)
with remarkably large leaves, and sixty feet in height by measurement.

We formed now but a small family. With Mr. Preuss and myself, Carson,
Bernier, and Basil Lajeunesse, had been selected for the boat expedition--
the first attempted on this interior sea; and Badeau, with Derosier, and
Jacob, (the colored man,) were to be left in charge of the camp. We were
favored with most delightful weather. To-night there was a brilliant
sunset of golden orange and green, which left the western sky clear and
beautifully pure; but clouds in the east made me lose an occultation. The
summer frogs were singing around us; and the evening was very pleasant,
with a temperature of 60 deg.--a night of a more southern autumn. For our
supper we had _yampah_, the most agreeably flavored of the roots,
seasoned by a small fat duck, which had come in the way of Jacob's rifle.
Around our fire to-night were many speculations on what to-morrow would
bring forth, and in our busy conjectures we fancied that we should find
every one of the large islands a tangled wilderness of trees and
shrubbery, teeming with game of every description that the neighboring
region afforded, and which the foot of a white man or Indian had never
violated. Frequently, during the day, clouds had rested on the summits of
their lofty mountains, and we believed that we should find clear streams
and springs of fresh water; and we indulged in anticipations of the
luxurious repasts with which we were to indemnify ourselves for past
privations. Neither, in our discussions, were the whirlpool and other
mysterious dangers forgotten, which Indian and hunters' stories attributed
to this unexplored lake. The men had found that, instead of being strongly
sewed, (like that of the preceding year, which had so triumphantly rode
the canons of the upper Great Platte,) our present boat was only pasted
together in a very insecure manner, the maker having been allowed so
little time in the construction, that he was obliged to crowd the labor of
two months into several days. The insecurity of the boat was sensibly felt
by us; and, mingled with the enthusiasm and excitement that we all felt at
the prospect of an undertaking which had never before been accomplished,
was a certain impression of danger, sufficient to give a serious character
to our conversation. The momentary view which had been had of the lake the
day before, its great extent and rugged islands, dimly seen amidst the
dark waters in the obscurity of the sudden storm, were calculated to
heighten the idea of undefined danger with which the lake was generally
associated.

8th.--A calm, clear day, with a sunrise temperature of 41 deg.. In view of our
present enterprise, a part of the equipment of the boat had been made to
consist in three air-tight bags, about three feet long, and capable each
of containing five gallons. These had been filled with water the night
before, and were now placed in the boat, with our blankets and
instruments, consisting of a sextant, telescope, spy-glass, thermometer,
and barometer.

We left the camp at sunrise, and had a very pleasant voyage down the
river, in which there was generally eight or ten feet of water, deepening
as we neared the mouth in the latter part of the day. In the course of the
morning we discovered that two of the cylinders leaked so much as to
require one man constantly at the bellows, to keep them sufficiently full
of air to support the boat. Although we had made a very early start, we
loitered so much on the way--stopping every now and then, and floating
silently along, to get a shot at a goose or duck--that it was late in the
day when we reached the outlet. The river here divided into several
branches, filled with fluvials, and so very shallow that it was with
difficulty we could get the boat along, being obliged to get out and wade.
We encamped on a low point among rushes and young willows, where was a
quantity of drift-wood, which served for our fires. The evening was mild
and clear; we made a pleasant bed of young willows; and geese and ducks
enough had been killed for an abundant supper at night, and for breakfast
the next morning. The stillness of the night was enlivened by millions of
water-fowl. Lat. (by observation) 41 deg. 11' 26"; and long. 112 deg. 11' 30".

9th.--The day was clear and calm; the thermometer at sunrise at 49 deg.. As is
usual with the trappers on the eve of any enterprise, our people had made
dreams, and theirs happened to be a bad one--one which always preceded
evil--and consequently they looked very gloomy this morning; but we
hurried through our breakfast, in order to made an early start, and have
all the day before us for our adventure. The channel in a short distance
became so shallow that our navigation was at an end, being merely a sheet
of soft mud, with a few inches of water, and sometimes none at all,
forming the low-water shore of the lake. All this place was absolutely
covered with flocks of screaming plover. We took off our clothes, and,
getting overboard, commenced dragging the boat--making, by this operation,
a very curious trail, and a very disagreeable smell in stirring up the
mud, as we sank above the knee at every step. The water here was still
fresh, with only an insipid and disagreeable taste, probably derived from
the bed of fetid mud. After proceeding in this way about a mile, we came
to a small black ridge on the bottom, beyond which the water became
suddenly salt, beginning gradually to deepen, and the bottom was sandy and
firm. It was a remarkable division, separating the fresh waters of the
rivers from the briny water of the lake, which was entirely
_saturated_ with common salt. Pushing our little vessel across the
narrow boundary, we sprang on board, and at length were afloat on the
waters of the unknown sea.

We did not steer for the mountainous islands, but directed our course
towards a lower one, which it had been decided we should first visit, the
summit of which was formed like the crater at the upper end of Bear River
valley. So long as we could touch the bottom with our paddles, we were
very gay; but gradually, as the water deepened, we became more still in
our frail batteau of gum-cloth distended with air, and with pasted seams.
Although the day was very calm, there was a considerable swell on the
lake; and there were white patches of foam on the surface, which were
slowly moving to the southward, indicating the set of a current in that
direction, and recalling the recollection of the whirlpool stories. The
water continued to deepen as we advanced--the lake becoming almost
transparently clear, of an extremely beautiful bright-green color; and the
spray, which was thrown into the boat and over our clothes, was directly
converted into a crust of common salt, which covered also our hands and
arms. "Captain," said Carson, who for some time had been looking
suspiciously at some whitening appearances outside the nearest islands,
"what are those yonder?--won't you just take a look with the glass?" We
ceased paddling for a moment, and found them to be the caps of the waves
that were beginning to break under the force of a strong breeze that was
coming up the lake.

The form of the boat seemed to be an admirable one, and it rode on the
waves like a water-bird; but, at the same time, it was extremely slow in
its progress. When we were a little more than half way across the reach,
two of the divisions between the cylinders gave way, and it required the
constant use of the bellows to keep in a sufficient quantity of air. For a
long time we scarcely seemed to approach our island, but gradually we
worked across the rougher sea of the open channel, into the smoother water
under the lee of the island, and began to discover that what we took for a
long row of pelicans, ranged on the beach, were only low cliffs whitened
with salt by the spray of the waves; and about noon we reached the shore,
the transparency of the water enabling us to see the bottom at a
considerable depth.

It was a handsome broad beach where we landed, behind which the hill, into
which the island was gathered, rose somewhat abruptly; and a point of rock
at one end enclosed it in a sheltering way; and as there was an abundance
of drift-wood along the shore, it offered us a pleasant encampment. We did
not suffer our frail boat to touch the sharp rocks, but, getting
overboard, discharged the baggage, and, lifting it gently out of the
water, carried it to the upper part of the beach, which was composed of
very small fragments of rock.

Among the successive banks of the beach, formed by the action of the
waves, our attention, as we approached the island, had been attracted by
one 10 to 20 feet in breadth, of a dark-brown color. Being more closely
examined, this was found to be composed, to the depth of seven or eight
and twelve inches, entirely of the _larvae_ of insects, or, in common
language; of the skins of worms, about the size of a grain of oats, which
had been washed up by the waters of the lake.

Alluding to this subject some months afterwards, when traveling through a
more southern portion of this region, in company with Mr. Joseph Walker,
an old hunter, I was informed by him, that, wandering with a party of men
in a mountain country east of the great California range, he surprised a
party of several Indian families encamped near a small salt lake, who
abandoned their lodges at his approach, leaving every thing behind them.
Being in a starving condition, they were delighted to find in the
abandoned lodges a number of skin bags, containing a quantity of what
appeared to be fish, dried and pounded. On this they made a hearty supper,
and were gathering around an abundant breakfast the next morning, when Mr.
Walker discovered that it was with these, or a similar worm, that the bags
had been filled. The stomachs of the stout trappers were not proof against
their prejudices, and the repulsive food was suddenly rejected. Mr. Walker
had further opportunities of seeing these worms used as an article of
food; and I am inclined to think they are the same as those we saw, and
appear to be a product of the salt lakes. It may be well to recall to your
mind that Mr. Walker was associated with Capt. Bonneville in his
expedition to the Rocky mountains, and has since that time remained in the
country, generally residing in some one of the Snake villages, when not
engaged in one of his numerous trapping expeditions, in which he is
celebrated as one of the best and bravest leaders who have ever been in
the country.

The cliffs and masses of rock along the shore were whitened by an
incrustation of salt where the waves dashed up against them; and the
evaporating water, which had been left in holes and hollows on the surface
of the rocks, was covered with a crust of salt about one-eighth of an inch
in thickness. It appeared strange that, in the midst of this grand
reservoir, one of our greatest wants lately had been salt. Exposed to be
more perfectly dried in the sun, this became very white and fine, having
the usual flavor of very excellent common salt, without any foreign taste;
but only a little was collected for present use, as there was in it a
number of small black insects.

Carrying with us the barometer and other instruments, in the afternoon we
ascended to the highest point of the island--a bare, rocky peak, eight
hundred feet above the lake. Standing on the summit, we enjoyed an
extended view of the lake, enclosed in a basin of rugged mountains, which
sometimes left marshy flats and extensive bottoms between them and the
shore, and in other places came directly down into the water with bold and
precipitous bluffs. Following with our glasses the irregular shores, we
searched for some indications of a communication with other bodies of
water, or the entrance of other rivers; but the distance was so great that
we could make out nothing with certainty. To the southward, several
peninsular mountains, 3,000 or 4,000 feet high, entered the lake,
appearing, so far as the distance and our position enabled us to
determine, to be connected by flats and low ridges with the mountains in
the rear. These are probably the islands usually indicated on maps of this
region as entirely detached from the shore. The season of our operations
was when the waters were at their lowest stage. At the season of high
waters in the spring, it is probable that the marshes and low grounds are
overflowed, and the surface of the lake considerably greater. In several
places the view was of unlimited extent--here and there a rocky islet
appearing above the waters, at a great distance; and beyond, every thing
was vague and undefined. As we looked over the vast expanse of water
spread out beneath us, and strained our eyes along the silent shores over
which hung so much doubt and uncertainty, and which were so full of
interest to us, I could hardly repress the almost irresistible desire to
continue our explorations; but the lengthening snow on the mountains was a
plain indication of the advancing season, and our frail linen boat
appeared so insecure that I was unwilling to trust our lives to the
uncertainties of the lake. I therefore unwillingly resolved to terminate
our survey here, and remain satisfied for the present with what we had
been able to add to the unknown geography of the region. We felt pleasure,
also, in remembering that we were the first who, in the traditionary
annals of the country, had visited the islands, and broken, with the
cheerful sound of human voices, the long solitude of the place. From the
point where we were standing, the ground fell off on every side to the
water, giving us a perfect view of the island, which is twelve or thirteen
miles in circumference, being simply a rocky hill, on which there is
neither water nor trees of any kind; although the _Fremontia
vermicularis_, which was in great abundance, might easily be taken for
timber at a distance. The plant seemed here to delight in a congenial air,
growing in extraordinary luxuriance seven to eight feet high, and was very
abundant on the upper parts of the island, where it was almost the only
plant. This is eminently a saline shrub; its leaves have a salt taste; and
it luxuriates in saline soils, where it is usually a characteristic. It is
widely diffused over all this country. A chenopodiaceous shrub, which is a
new species of OBIONE, (O. rigida, _Torr. and Frem_.,) was equally
characteristic of the lower parts of the island. These two are the
striking plants on the island, and belong to a class of plants which form
a prominent feature in the vegetation of this country. On the lower parts
of the island, also, a prickly pear of very large size was frequent. On
the shore, near the water, was a woolly species of _phaca_; and a new
species of umbelliferous plant (_leptotaemia_) was scattered about in
very considerable abundance. These constituted all the vegetation that now
appeared upon the island.

I accidentally left on the summit the brass cover to the object end of my
spy-glass: and as it will probably remain there undisturbed by Indians, it
will furnish matter of speculation to some future traveler. In our
excursions about the island, we did not meet with any kind of animal; a
magpie, and another larger bird, probably attracted by the smoke of our
fire, paid us a visit from the shore, and were the only living things seen
during our stay. The rock constituting the cliffs along the shore, where
we were encamped, is a talcous rock, or steatite, with brown spar.

At sunset, the temperature was 70 deg.. We had arrived just in time to obtain
a meridian altitude of the sun, and other observations were obtained this
evening, which placed our camp in latitude 41 deg. 10' 42", and longitude 112 deg.
21' 05" from Greenwich. From a discussion of the barometrical observations
made during our stay on the shores of the lake, we have adopted 4,200 feet
for its elevation above the Gulf of Mexico. In the first disappointment we
felt from the dissipation of our dream of the fertile islands, I called
this _Disappointment island_.

Out of the drift-wood, we made ourselves pleasant little lodges, open to
the water; and, after having kindled large fires to excite the wonder of
any straggling savage on the lake shores, lay down, for the first time in
a long journey, in perfect security; no one thinking about his arms. The
evening was extremely bright and pleasant; but the wind rose during the
night, and the waves began to break heavily on the shore, making our
island tremble. I had not expected in our inland journey to hear the roar
of an ocean surf; and the strangeness of our situation, and the excitement
we felt in the associated interest of the place, made this one of the most
interesting nights I made during our long expedition.

In the morning, the surf was breaking heavily on the shore, and we were up
early. The lake was dark and agitated, and we hurried through our scanty
breakfast, and embarked--having first filled one of the buckets with water
from the lake, of which it was intended to make salt. The sun had risen by
the time we were ready to start; and it was blowing a strong gale of wind,
almost directly off the shore, and raising a considerable sea, in which
our boat strained very much. It roughened as we got away from the island,
and it required all the efforts of the men to make any head against the
wind and sea, the gale rising with the sun; and there was danger of being
blown into one of the open reaches beyond the island. At the distance of
half a mile from the beach, the depth of the water was 16 feet, with a
clay bottom; but, as the working of the boat was very severe labor, and
during the operation of sounding it was necessary to cease paddling,
during which the boat lost considerable way, I was unwilling to discourage
the men, and reluctantly gave up my intention of ascertaining the depth
and the character of the bed. There was a general shout in the boat when
we found ourselves in one fathom, and we soon after landed on a low point
of mud, immediately under the butte of the peninsula, where we unloaded
the boat, and carried the baggage about a quarter of a mile to firmer
ground. We arrived just in time for meridian observation, and carried the
barometer to the summit of the butte, which is 500 feet above the lake.
Mr. Preuss set off on foot for the camp, which was about nine miles
distant; Basil accompanying him, to bring back horses for the boat and
baggage.

The rude-looking shelter we raised on the shore, our scattered baggage and
boat lying on the beach, made quite a picture; and we called this the
_Fisherman's camp_. _Lynosiris graveolens_, and another new
species of OBIONE, (O. confertifolia--_Torr. & Frem_.,) were growing
on the low grounds, with interspersed spots of an unwholesome salt grass,
on a saline clay soil, with a few other plants.

The horses arrived late in the afternoon, by which time the gale had
increased to such a height that a man could scarcely stand before it; and
we were obliged to pack our baggage hastily, as the rising water of the
lake had already reached the point where we were halted. Looking back as
we rode off, we found the place of recent encampment entirely covered. The
low plain through which we rode to the camp was covered with a compact
growth of shrubs of extraordinary size and luxuriance. The soil was sandy
and saline; flat places, resembling the beds of ponds, that were bare of
vegetation, and covered with a powdery white salt, being interspersed
among the shrubs. Artemisia tridentata was very abundant, but the plants
were principally saline; a large and vigorous chenopodiaceous shrub, five
to eight feet high, being characteristic, with Fremontia vermicularis, and
a shrubby plant which seems to be a new _salicornia_. We reached the
camp in time to escape a thunder-storm which blackened the sky, and were
received with a discharge of the howitzer by the people, who, having been
unable to see any thing of us on the lake, had begun to feel some
uneasiness.

11th.--To-day we remained at this camp, in order to obtain some further
observations, and to boil down the water which had been brought from the
lake, for a supply of salt. Roughly evaporated over the fire, the five
gallons of water yielded fourteen pints of very fine-grained and very
white salt, of which the whole lake may be regarded as a saturated
solution. A portion of the salt thus obtained has been subjected to
analysis, giving, in 100 parts, the following proportions.

                Analysis of the salt.

Chloride of sodium, (common salt,) --- 97.80
Chloride of calcium, -----------------  0.61
Chloride of magnesium, ---------------  0.24
Sulphate of soda, --------------------  0.23
Sulphate of lime, --------------------  1.12
                                      ______
                                      100.00

Glancing your eye along the map, you will see a small stream entering
_Utah lake_, south of the Spanish fork, and the first waters of that
lake which our road of 1844 crosses in coming up from the southward. When
I was on this stream with Mr. Walker in that year, he informed me that on
the upper part of the river are immense beds of rock-salt of very great
thickness, which he had frequently visited. Farther to the southward, the
rivers which are affluent to the Colorado, such as the Rio Virgen, and
Gila river, near their mouths, are impregnated with salt by the cliffs of
rock-salt between which they pass. These mines occur in the same ridge in
which, about 120 miles to the northward, and subsequently in their more
immediate neighborhood, we discovered the fossils belonging to the oolitic
period, and they are probably connected with that formation, and are the
deposite from which the Great Lake obtains its salt. Had we remained
longer, we should have found them in its bed, and in the mountains around
its shores. By observation the latitude of this camp is 41 deg. 15' 50", and
longitude 112 deg. 06" 43".

The observations made during our stay give for the rate of the chronometer
31.72", corresponding almost exactly with the rate obtained at St. Vrain's
fort. Barometrical observations were made almost hourly during the day.
This morning we breakfasted on yampah, and had only kamas for supper; but
a cup of good coffee still distinguished us from our _Digger_
acquaintances.

12th.--The morning was clear and calm, with a temperature at sunrise of
32 deg.. We resumed our journey late in the day, returning by nearly the same
route which we had traveled in coming to the lake; and, avoiding the
passage of Hawthorn creek, struck the hills a little below the hot salt-
springs. The flat plain we had here passed over consisted alternately of
tolerably good sandy soil and of saline plats. We encamped early on Clear
creek, at the foot of the high ridge; one of the peaks of which we
ascertained by measurement to be 4,210 feet above the lake, or about 8,400
feet above the sea. Behind these front peaks the ridge rises towards the
Bear River mountains, which are probably as high as the Wind River chain.
This creek is here unusually well timbered with a variety of trees. Among
them were birch, (_betula_,) the narrow-leaved poplar, (_populus
angustifolia_,) several kinds of willow, (_solix_,) hawthorn,
(_crataegus_,) alder, (_alnus viridis_,) and _cerasus_, with
an oak allied to _quercus alba_, but very distinct from that or any
other species in the United States.

We had to-night a supper of sea-gulls, which Carson killed near the lake.
Although cool, the thermometer standing at 47 deg., musquitoes were
sufficiently numerous to be troublesome this evening.

13th.--Continuing up the river valley, we crossed several small streams;
the mountains on the right appearing to consist of the blue limestone
which we had observed in the same ridge to the northward, alternating here
with a granular quartz already mentioned. One of these streams, which
forms a smaller lake near the river, was broken up into several channels;
and the irrigated bottom of fertile soil was covered with innumerable
flowers, among which were purple fields of _eupatorium purpureum_,
with helianthi, a handsome solidago, (_S. canadensis_,) and a variety
of other plants in bloom. Continuing along the foot of the hills, in the
afternoon we found five or six hot-springs gushing out together, beneath a
conglomerate, consisting principally of fragments of a grayish-blue
limestone, efflorescing a salt upon the surface. The temperature of these
springs was 134 deg., and the rocks in the bed were colored with a red
deposite, and there was common salt crystallized on the margin. There was
also a white incrustation upon leaves and roots, consisting principally of
carbonate of lime. There were rushes seen along the road this afternoon,
and the soil under the hills was very black, and apparently very good; but
at this time the grass is entirely dried up. We encamped on Bear river,
immediately below a cut-off, the canon by which the river enters this
valley bearing north by compass. The night was mild, with a very clear
sky; and I obtained a very excellent observation of an occultation of Tau.
Arietis, with other observations. Both immersion and emersion of the star
were observed; but, as our observations have shown, the phase at the
bright limb generally gives incorrect longitudes, and we have adopted the
result obtained from the emersion at the dark limb, without allowing any
weight to the immersion. According to these observations, the longitude is
112 deg. 05' 12", and the latitude 41 deg. 42' 43". All the longitudes on the line
of our outward journey, between St. Vrain's fort and the Dalles of the
Columbia, which were not directly determined by satellites, have been
chronometrically referred to this place.

The people to-day were rather low-spirited, hunger making them very quiet
and peaceable; and there was rarely an oath to be heard in the camp--not
even a solitary _enfant de garce_. It was time for the men with an
expected supply of provisions from Mr. Fitzpatrick to be in the
neighborhood; and the gun was fired at evening, to give notice of our
locality, but met with no response.

14th.--About four miles from this encampment, the trail led us down to the
river, where we unexpectedly found an excellent ford--the stream being
widened by an island, and not yet disengaged from the hills at the foot of
the range. We encamped on a little creek where we had made a noon halt in
descending the river. The night was very clear and pleasant, the sunset
temperature being 67 deg..

The people this evening looked so forlorn, that I gave them permission to
kill a fat young horse which I had purchased with goods from the Snake
Indians, and they were very soon restored to gayety and good humor. Mr.
Preuss and myself could not yet overcome some remains of civilized
prejudices, and preferred to starve a little longer; feeling as much
saddened as if a crime had been committed.

The next day we continued up the valley, the soil being sometimes very
black and good, occasionally gravelly, and occasionally a kind of naked
salt plains. We found on the way this morning a small encampment of two
families of Snake Indians, from whom we purchased a small quantity of
_kooyah_. They had piles of seeds, of three different kinds, spread
out upon pieces of buffalo robe; and the squaws had just gathered about a
bushel of the root of a thistle, (_circium Virginianum_.) They were
about the ordinary size of carrots, and, as I have previously mentioned,
are sweet and well flavored, requiring only a long preparation. They had a
band of twelve or fifteen horses, and appeared to be growing in the
sunshine with about as little labor as the plants they were eating.

Shortly afterwards we met an Indian on horseback who had killed an
antelope, which we purchased of him for a little powder and some balls. We
crossed the Roseaux, and encamped on the left bank; halting early for the
pleasure of enjoying a wholesome and abundant supper, and were pleasantly
engaged in protracting our unusual comfort, when Tabeau galloped into the
camp with news that Mr. Fitzpatrick was encamped close by us, with a good
supply of provisions--flour, rice, and dried meat, and even a little
butter. Excitement to-night made us all wakeful; and after a breakfast
before sunrise the next morning, we were again on the road, and,
continuing up the valley, crossed some high points of hills, and halted to
noon on the same stream, near several lodges of Snake Indians, from whom
we purchased about a bushel of service-berries, partially dried. By the
gift of a knife, I prevailed upon a little boy to show me the
_kooyah_ plant, which proved to be _valeriana edulis_. The root
which constitutes the _kooyah_, is large, of a very bright yellow
color, with the characteristic odor, but not so fully developed as in the
prepared substance. It loves the rich moist soil of river bottoms, which
was the locality in which I always afterwards found it. It was now
entirely out of bloom; according to my observation, flowering in the
months of May and June. In the afternoon we entered a long ravine leading
to a pass in the dividing ridge between the waters of Bear river and the
Snake river, or Lewis's fork of the Columbia; our way being very much
impeded, and almost entirely blocked up, by compact fields of luxuriant
artemisia. Taking leave at this point of the waters of Bear river, and of
the geographical basin which encloses the system of rivers and creeks
which belong to the Great Salt Lake, and which so richly deserves a future
detailed and ample exploration, I can say of it, in general terms, that
the bottoms of this river, (Bear,) and of some of the creeks which I saw,
form a natural resting and recruiting station for travelers, now, and in
all time to come. The bottoms are extensive; water excellent; timber
sufficient; the soil good, and well adapted to grains and grasses suited
to such an elevated region. A military post, and a civilized settlement,
would be of great value here; grass and salt so much abound. The lake will
furnish exhaustless supplies of salt. All the mountains here are covered
with a valuable nutritious grass, called bunch-grass, from the form in
which it grows, which has a second growth in the fall. The beasts of the
Indians were fat upon it; our own found it a good subsistence; and its
quantity will sustain any amount of cattle, and make this truly a bucolic
region.

We met here an Indian family on horseback, which had been out to gather
service-berries, and were returning loaded. This tree was scattered about
on the hills; and the upper part of the pass was timbered with aspen,
(_populus trem._;) the common blue flowering-flax occurring among the
plants. The approach to the pass was very steep, and the summit about
6,300 feet above the sea--probably only an uncertain approximation, as at
the time of observation it was blowing a violent gale of wind from the
northwest, with _cumuli_ scattered in masses over the sky, the day
otherwise bright and clear. We descended, by a steep slope, into a broad
open valley--good soil--from four to five miles wide, coming down
immediately upon one of the head-waters of the Pannack river, which here
loses itself in swampy ground. The appearance of the country here is not
very interesting. On either side is a regular range of mountains of the
usual character, with a little timber, tolerably rocky on the right, and
higher and more smooth on the left, with still higher peaks looking out
above the range. The valley afforded a good level road, but it was late
when it brought us to water, and we encamped at dark. The north-west wind
had blown up very cold weather, and the artemisia, which was our firewood
to-night, did not happen to be very abundant. This plant loves a dry,
sandy soil, and cannot grow in the good bottoms where it is rich and
moist, but on every little eminence, where water does not rest long, it
maintains absolute possession. Elevation above the sea about 5,100 feet.

At night scattered fires glimmered along the mountains, pointing out camps
of the Indians; and we contrasted the comparative security in which we
traveled through this country with the guarded vigilance we were compelled
to exert among the Sioux and other Indians on the eastern side of the
Rocky mountains.

At sunset the thermometer was at 50 deg., and at midnight at 30 deg..

17th.--The morning sky was calm and clear, the temperature at daylight
being 25 deg., and at sunrise 20 deg.. There is throughout this country a
remarkable difference between the morning and mid-day temperatures, which
at this season was very generally 40 deg. or 50 deg., and occasionally greater;
and frequently, after a very frosty morning, the heat in a few hours would
render the thinnest clothing agreeable. About noon we reached the main
fork. The Pannack river was before us, the valley being here 11/2 miles
wide, fertile, and bordered by smooth hills, not over 500 feet high,
partly covered with cedar; a high ridge, in which there is a prominent
peak, rising behind those on the left. We continued to descend this
stream, and found on it at night a warm and comfortable camp. Flax
occurred so frequently during the day as to be almost a characteristic,
and the soil appeared excellent. The evening was gusty, with a temperature
at sunset of 59 deg.. I obtained, about midnight, an observation of an
emersion of the first satellite, the night being calm and very clear, the
stars remarkably bright, and the thermometer at 30 deg.. Longitude, from mean
of satellite and chronometer, 112 deg. 29' 52", and latitude, by observation,
42 deg. 44' 40".

18th.--The day clear and calm, with a temperature of 25 deg. at sunrise. After
traveling seven or eight miles, we emerged on the plains of the Columbia,
in sight of the famous "_Three Buttes_," a well-known landmark in the
country, distant about 45 miles. The French word _butte_, which so
often occurs in this narrative, is retained from the familiar language of
the country, and identifies the objects to which it refers. It is
naturalized in the region of the Rocky mountains, and, even if desirable
to render it in English, I know of no word which would be its precise
equivalent. It is applied to the detached hills and ridges which rise
rapidly, and reach too high to be called hills or ridges, and not high
enough to be called mountains. _Knob_, as applied in the western
states, is their descriptive term in English. _Cerro_ is the Spanish
term; but no translation, or periphrasis, would preserve the identity of
these picturesque landmarks, familiar to the traveler, and often seen at a
great distance. Covered as far as could be seen with artemisia, the dark
and ugly appearance of this plain obtained for it the name of _Sage
Desert_; and we were agreeably surprised, on reaching the Portneuf
river, to see a beautiful green valley with scattered timber spread out
beneath us, on which, about four miles distant, were glistening the white
walls of the fort. The Portneuf runs along the upland plain nearly to its
mouth, and an abrupt descent of perhaps two hundred feet brought us down
immediately upon the stream, which at the ford is one hundred yards wide,
and three feet deep, with clear water, a swift current, and gravelly bed;
but a little higher up the breadth was only about thirty-five yards, with
apparently deep water.

In the bottom I remarked a very great number of springs and sloughs, with
remarkably clear water and gravel beds. At sunset we encamped with Mr.
Talbot and our friends, who came on to Fort Hall when we went to the lake,
and whom we had the satisfaction to find all well, neither party having
met with any mischance in the interval of our separation. They, too, had
had their share of fatigue and scanty provisions, as there had been very
little game left on the trail of the populous emigration; and Mr.
Fitzpatrick had rigidly husbanded our stock of flour and light provisions,
in view of the approaching winter and the long journey before us.

19th.--This morning the sky was very dark and gloomy, and at daylight it
began snowing thickly, and continued all day, with cold, disagreeable
weather. At sunrise the temperature was 43 deg.. I rode up to the fort, and
purchased from Mr. Grant (the officer in charge of the post) several very
indifferent horses, and five oxen, in very fine order, which were received
at the camp with great satisfaction: and, one being killed at evening, the
usual gayety and good humor were at once restored. Night came in stormy.

20th.--We had a night of snow and rain, and the thermometer at sunrise was
at 34 deg.; the morning was dark, with a steady rain, and there was still an
inch of snow on the ground, with an abundance on the neighboring hills and
mountains. The sudden change in the weather was hard for our animals, who
trembled and shivered in the cold--sometimes taking refuge in the timber,
and now and then coming out and raking the snow off the ground for a
little grass, or eating the young willows.

21st.--Ice made tolerably thick during this night, and in the morning the
weather cleared up very bright, with a temperature at sunrise of 29 deg.; and
I obtained a meridian observation for latitude at the fort, with
observations for time. The sky was again covered in the afternoon, and the
thermometer at sunset 48 deg..

22d.--The morning was cloudy and unpleasant, and at sunrise a cold rain
commenced, with a temperature of 41 deg..

The early approach of winter, and the difficulty of supporting a large
party, determined me to send back a number of the men who had become
satisfied that they were not fitted for the laborious service and frequent
privation to which they were necessarily exposed, and which there was
reason to believe would become more severe in the further extension of the
voyage. I accordingly called them together, and, informing them of my
intention to continue our journey during the ensuing winter, in the course
of which they would probably be exposed to considerable hardship,
succeeded in prevailing on a number of them to return voluntarily. These
were: Charles de Forrest, Henry Lee, J. Campbell, Wm. Creuss, A. Vasquez;
A. Pera, Patrick White, B. Tesson, M. Creely, Francois Lajeunesse, Basil
Lajeunesse. Among these I regretted very much to lose Basil Lajeunesse,
one of the best men in my party, who was obliged, by the condition of his
family, to be at home in the coming winter. Our preparations having been
completed in the interval of our stay here, both parties were ready this
morning to resume their respective routes.

Except that there is a greater quantity of wood used in its construction,
Fort Hall very much resembles the other trading posts which have already
been described to you, and would be another excellent post of relief for
the emigration. It is in the low rich bottom of a valley, apparently 20
miles long, formed by the confluence of Portneuf river with Lewis's fork
of the Columbia, which it enters about nine miles below the fort, and
narrowing gradually to the mouth of the Pannack river, where it has a
breadth of only two or three miles. Allowing 50 miles for the road from
the _Beer springs_ of Bear river to Fort Hall, its distance along the
_traveled_ road from the town of Westport, on the frontier of
Missouri, by way of Fort Laramie and the great South Pass, is 1,323 miles.
Beyond this place, on the line of road along the _barren_ valley of
the Upper Columbia, there does not occur, for a distance of nearly 300
miles to the westward, a fertile spot of ground sufficiently large to
produce the necessary quantity of grain, or pasturage enough to allow even
a temporary repose to the emigrants. On their recent passage, they had
been able to obtain, at very high prices and in insufficient quantity,
only such assistance as could be afforded by a small and remote trading-
post--and that a foreign one--which, in the supply of its own wants, had
necessarily drawn around it some of the resources of civilization, but
which obtained nearly all its supplies from the distant depot of
Vancouver, by a difficult water-carriage of 250 miles up the Columbia
river, and a land-carriage by pack-horses of 600 miles. An American
military post, sufficiently strong to give to their road a perfect
security against the Indian tribes, who are unsettled in locality and very
_uncertain_ in their disposition, and which, with the necessary
facilities for the repair of their equipage, would be able to afford them
relief in stock and grain from the produce of the post, would be of
extraordinary value to the emigration. Such a post (and all others which
may be established on the line to Oregon) would naturally form the
_nucleus_ of a settlement, at which supplies and repose would be
obtained by the emigrant, or trading caravans, which may hereafter
traverse these elevated, and, in many places, desolate and inhospitable
regions.

I subjoin an analysis of the soil in the river bottom near Fort Hall,
which will be of assistance in enabling you to form some correct idea of
its general character in the neighboring country. I characterize it as
good land, but the analysis will show its precise properties.

     _Analysis of the Soil_.

Silicina ----------------- 68.55
Alumina ------------------- 7.45
Carbonate of lime --------- 8.51
Carbonate of magnesia ----- 5.09
Oxide of iron ------------- 1.40
Organic vegetable matter -- 4.74
Water and loss  ----------- 4.26
                          ______

                          100.00

Our observations place this post in longitude 112 deg. 29' 54", latitude 43 deg.
01' 30", and the elevation above the sea, 4,500 feet.

Taking leave of the homeward party, we resumed our journey down the
valley, the weather being very cold, and the rain coming in hard gusts,
which the wind blew directly in our faces. We forded the Portneuf in a
storm of rain, the water in the river being frequently up to the axles,
and about 110 yards wide. After the gust, the weather improved a little,
and we encamped about three miles below, at the mouth of the Pannack
river, on Lewis's fork, which here has a breadth of about 120 yards. The
temperature at sunset was 42 deg.; the sky partially covered with dark, rainy
clouds.

23d.--The temperature at sunrise was 32 deg.; the morning dark, and snow
falling steadily and thickly, with a light air from the southward.
Profited of being obliged to remain in camp, to take hourly barometrical
observations from sunrise to midnight. The wind at eleven o'clock set in
from the north-ward in heavy gusts, and the snow changed into rain. In the
afternoon, when the sky brightened, the rain had washed all the snow from
the bottoms; but the neighboring mountains, from summit to foot, were
luminously white--an inauspicious commencement of the autumn, of which
this was the first day.

24th.--The thermometer at sunrise was 35 deg., and a blue sky in the west
promised a fine day. The river bottoms here are narrow and swampy, with
frequent sloughs; and after crossing the Pannack, the road continued along
the uplands, rendered very slippery by the soil of wet clay, and entirely
covered with artemisia bushes, among which occur frequent fragments of
obsidian. At noon we encamped in a grove of willows, at the upper end of a
group of islands about half a mile above the _American falls_ of
Snake river. Among the willows here, were some bushes of Lewis and
Clarke's currant, (_ribes aureum_.) The river here enters between low
mural banks, which consist of a fine vesicular trap-rock, the intermediate
portions being compact and crystalline. Gradually becoming higher in its
downward course, these banks of scoriated volcanic rock form, with
occasional interruptions, its characteristic feature along the whole line
to the Dalles of the Lower Columbia, resembling a chasm which had been
rent through the country, and which the river had afterwards taken for its
bed. The immediate valley of the river is a high plain covered with black
rocks and artemisias. In the south is a bordering range of mountains,
which, although not very high, are broken and covered with snow; and at a
great distance to the north is seen the high, snowy line of the Salmon
river mountains, in front of which stand out prominently in the plain the
three isolated rugged-looking mountains commonly known as the _Three
Buttes_. Between the river and the distant Salmon river range, the
plain is represented by Mr. Fitzpatrick as so entirely broken up and rent
into chasms as to be impracticable for a man even on foot. In the sketch
annexed, the point of view is low, but it conveys very well some idea of
the open character of the country, with the buttes rising out above the
general line. By measurement, the river above is 870 feet wide,
immediately contracted at the fall in the form of a lock, by jutting piles
of scoriaceous basalt, over which the foaming river must present a grand
appearance at the time of high water. The evening was clear and pleasant,
with dew; and at sunset the temperature was 54 deg.. By observation, the
latitude is 42 deg. 47' 05", and the longitude 112 deg. 40' 13". A few hundred
yards below the falls, and on the left bank of the river is an escarpment
from which we obtained some specimens.

25th.--Thermometer at sunrise 47 deg.. The day came in clear, with a strong
gale from the south, which commenced at eleven of the last night. The road
to-day led along the river which is full of rapids and small falls. Grass
is very scanty and along the rugged banks are scattered cedars, with an
abundance of rocks and sage. We traveled fourteen miles, and encamped in
the afternoon near the river, on a rocky creek, the bed of which was
entirely occupied with boulders of a very large size. For the last three
or four miles the right bank of the river has a palisaded appearance. One
of the oxen was killed here for food. The thermometer at evening was at
55 deg., the sky almost overcast, and the barometer indicated an elevation of
4,400 feet.

26th.--Rain during the night, and the temperature at sunrise 42 deg..
Traveling along the river, in about four miles we reached a picturesque
stream, to which we gave the name of Fall creek. It is remarkable for the
many falls which occur in a short distance; and its bed is composed of a
calcareous tufa, or vegetable rock, composed principally of the remains of
reeds and mosses, resembling that at the _Basin spring_, on Bear
river.

The road along the river bluffs had been occasionally very bad; and
imagining that some rough obstacles rendered such a detour necessary, we
followed for several miles a plain wagon-road leading up this stream,
until we reached a point whence it could be seen making directly towards a
low place in the range on the south side of the valley, and we became
immediately aware that we were on a trail formed by a party of wagons, in
company with whom we had encamped at Elm grove, near the frontier of
Missouri, and which you will remember were proceeding to Upper California
under the direction of Mr. Jos. Chiles. At the time of their departure, no
practicable passes were known in the southern Rocky mountains within the
territory of the United States; and the probable apprehension of
difficulty in attempting to pass near the settled frontier of New Mexico,
together with the desert character of the unexplored region beyond, had
induced them to take a more northern and circuitous route by way of the
Sweet Water pass and Fort Hall. They had still between them and the valley
of the Sacramento a great mass of mountains, forming the _Sierra
Nevada_, here commonly known as the _Great California mountain_,
and which were at this time considered as presenting an impracticable
barrier to wheeled-carriages. Various considerations had suggested to them
a division of the party; and a greater portion of the camp, including the
wagons, with the mail and other stores, were now proceeding under the
guidance of Mr. Joseph Walker, who had engaged to conduct them, by a long
sweep to the southward, around what is called the _point of the
mountain_; and, crossing through a pass known only to himself, gain the
banks of the Sacramento by the valley of the San Joaquin. It was a long
and a hazardous journey for a party in which there were women and
children. Sixty days was the shortest period of time in which they could
reach the point of the mountain, and their route lay through a country
inhabited by wild and badly-disposed Indians, and very poor in game; but
the leader was a man possessing great and intimate knowledge of the
Indians, with an extraordinary firmness and decision of character. In the
mean time, Mr. Chiles had passed down the Columbia with a party of ten or
twelve men, with the intention of reaching the settlements on the
Sacramento by a more direct course, which indefinite information from
hunters had indicated in the direction of the head-waters of the
_Riviere aux Malheurs_; and having obtained there a reinforcement of
animals, and a supply of provisions, meet the wagons before they should
have reached the point of the mountain, at a place which had been
previously agreed upon. In the course of our narrative, we shall be able
to give you some information of the fortunes which attended the movements
of these adventurous travelers.

Having discovered our error, we immediately regained the line along the
river, which the road quitted about noon, and encamped at five o'clock on
the stream called Raft river, (_Riviere aux Cajeux_,) having traveled
only 13 miles. In the north, the Salmon River mountains are visible at a
very far distance; and on the left, the ridge in which Raft river heads is
about 20 miles distant, rocky, and tolerably high. Thermometer at sunset
44 deg., with a partially clouded sky, and a sharp wind from the S.W.

27th.--It was now no longer possible, as in our previous journey, to
travel regularly every day, and find at any moment a convenient place for
repose at noon or a camp at night; but the halting-places were now
generally fixed along the road, by the nature of the country, at places
where, with water, there was a little scanty grass. Since leaving the
American falls, the road had frequently been very bad; the many short,
steep ascents, exhausting the strength of our worn-out animals, requiring
always at such places the assistance of the men to get up each cart, one
by one; and our progress with twelve or fourteen wheeled-carriages, though
light and made for the purpose, in such a rocky country, was extremely
slow; and I again determined to gain time by a division of the camp.
Accordingly, to-day, the parties again separated, constituted very much as
before--Mr. Fitzpatrick remaining in charge of the heavier baggage.

The morning was calm and clear, with a white frost, and the temperature at
sunrise 24 deg..

To-day the country had a very forbidding appearance; and, after traveling
20 miles over a slightly undulating plain, we encamped at a considerable
spring, called Swamp creek, rising in low grounds near the point of a spur
from the mountain. Returning with a small party in a starving condition
from the westward 12 or 14 years since, Carson had met here three or four
buffalo bulls, two of which were killed. They were among the pioneers
which had made the experiment of colonizing in the valley of the Columbia,
and which had failed, as heretofore stated. At sunset the thermometer was
at 46 deg., and the evening was overcast, with a cool wind from the S.E., and
to-night we had only sage for firewood. Mingled with the artemisia was a
shrubby and thorny chenopodiaceous plant.

28th.-Thermometer at sunrise 40 deg.. The wind rose early to a gale from the
west, with a very cold driving rain; and, after an uncomfortable day's
ride of 25 miles, we, were glad when at evening we found a sheltered camp,
where there was an abundance of wood, at some elevated rocky islands
covered with cedar, near the commencement of another long canon of the
river. With the exception of a short detention at a deep little stream
called Goose creek, and some occasional rocky places, we had to-day a very
good road; but the country has a barren appearance, sandy, and densely
covered with the artemisias from the banks of the river to the foot of the
mountains. Here I remarked, among the sage bushes, green bunches of what
is called the second growth of grass. The river to-day has had a smooth
appearance, free from rapids, with a low sandy hill-slope bordering the
bottoms, in which there is a little good soil. Thermometer at sunset 45 deg.,
blowing a gale, and disagreeably cold.

29th.--The thermometer at sunrise 36 deg., with a bright sun, and appearance
of finer weather. The road for several miles was _extremely_ rocky,
and consequently bad; but, entering after this a sandy country, it became
very good, with no other interruption than the sage bushes, which covered
the river plain as far as the eye could reach, and, with their uniform
tint of dark gray, gave to the country a gloomy and sombre appearance. All
the day the course of the river has been between walls of the black
volcanic rock, a dark line of the escarpment on the opposite side pointing
out its course, and sweeping along in foam at places where the mountains
which border the valley present always on the left two ranges, the lower
one a spur of the higher; and, on the opposite side, the Salmon River
mountains are visible at a great distance. Having made 24 miles, we
encamped about five o'clock on Rock creek--a stream having considerable
water, a swift current, and wooded with willow.

30th.--Thermometer at sunrise 28 deg.. In its progress towards the river, this
creek soon enters a chasm of the volcanic rock, which in places along the
wall presents a columnar appearance; and the road becomes extremely rocky
whenever it passes near its banks. It is only about twenty feet wide where
the road crosses it, with a deep bed, and steep banks, covered with rocky
fragments, with willows and a little grass on its narrow bottom. The soil
appears to be full of calcareous matter, with which the rocks are
incrusted. The fragments of rock which had been removed by the emigrants
in making a road, where we ascended from the bed of this creek, were
whitened with lime; and during the afternoon's march I remarked in the
soil a considerably quantity of calcareous concretions. Towards evening
the sages became more sparse, and the clear spaces were occupied by tufts
of green grass. The river still continued its course through a trough, or
open canon; and towards sunset we followed the trail of several wagons
which had turned in towards Snake river, and encamped, as they had done,
on the top of the escarpment. There was no grass here, the soil among the
sage being entirely naked; but there is occasionally a little bottom along
the river, which a short ravine of rocks, at rare intervals, leaves
accessible; and by one of these we drove our animals down, and found some
tolerably good grass bordering the water.

Immediately opposite to us, a subterranean river bursts out directly from
the face of the escarpment, and falls in white foam to the river below.
The main river is enclosed with mural precipices, which form its
characteristic feature along a great portion of its course. A melancholy
and strange-looking country--one of fracture, and violence, and fire.

We had brought with us, when we separated from the camp, a large gaunt ox,
in appearance very poor; but, being killed to-night, to the great joy of
the people, he was found to be remarkably fat. As usual at such
occurrences, the evening was devoted to gayety and feasting; abundant fare
now made an epoch among us; and in this laborious life, in such a country
as this, our men had but little else to enjoy. The temperature at sunset
was 65 deg., with a clear sky and a very high wind. By the observation of the
evening, the encampment was in longitude 114 deg. 25' 04", and in latitude
42 deg. 38' 44".



OCTOBER.


1st.--The morning clear, with wind from the west, and the thermometer at
55 deg.. We descended to the bottoms, taking with us the boat, for the purpose
of visiting the fall in the opposite cliffs; and while it was being filled
with air, we occupied ourselves in measuring the river, which is 1,786
feet in breadth, with banks 200 feet high. We were surprised, on our
arrival at the opposite side, to find a beautiful basin of clear water,
formed by the falling river, around which the rocks were whitened by some
saline incrustation. Here the Indians had constructed wicker dams,
although I was informed that the salmon do not ascend the river so far;
and its character below would apparently render it impracticable.

The ascent of the steep hill-side was rendered a little difficult by a
dense growth of shrubs and fields of cane; and there were frequent hidden
crevices among the rocks, where the water was heard rushing below; but we
succeeded in reaching the main stream, which, issuing from between strata
of the trap-rock in two principal branches, produced almost immediately a
torrent, 22 feet wide, and white with foam. It is a picturesque spot of
singular beauty, overshadowed by bushes, from under which the torrent
glances, tumbling into the white basin below, where the clear water
contrasted beautifully with the muddy stream of the river. Its outlet was
covered with a rank growth of canes, and a variety of unusual plants, and
nettles, (_urtica canabina_,) which, before they were noticed, had
set our hands and arms on fire. The temperature of the spring was 58 deg.,
while that of the river was 51 deg.. The perpendicular height of the place at
which this stream issues is 45 feet above the river, and 162 feet below
the summit of the precipice--making nearly 200 feet for the height of the
wall. On the hill-side here was obtained a specimen consisting principally
of fragments of the shells of small crustacea, and which was probably
formed by deposition from these springs, proceeding from some lake or
river in the highlands above.

We resumed our journey at noon, the day being hot and bright; and, after a
march of 17 miles, encamped at sunset on the river, near several lodges of
Snake Indians.

Our encampment was about one mile below the _Fishing falls_--a series
of cataracts with very inclined planes, which are probably so named
because they form a barrier to the ascent of the salmon; and the great
fisheries, from which the inhabitants of this barren region almost
entirely derive a subsistence, commence at this place. These appeared to
be unusually gay savages, fond of loud laughter; and, in their apparent
good nature and merry character, struck me as being entirely different
from the Indians we had been accustomed to see. From several who visited
our camp in the evening, we purchased, in exchange for goods, dried
salmon. At this season they are not very fat, but we were easily pleased.
The Indians made us comprehend, that when the salmon came up the river in
the spring, they are so abundant that they merely throw in their spears at
random, certain of bringing out a fish.

These poor people are but slightly provided with winter clothing; there is
but little game to furnish skins for the purpose; and of a little animal
which seemed to be the most numerous, it required 20 skins to make a
covering to the knees. But they are still a joyous, talkative race, who
grow fat and become poor with the salmon, which at least never fail them--
the dried being used in the absence of the fresh. We are encamped
immediately on the river bank, and with the salmon jumping up out of the
water, and Indians paddling about in boats made of rushes, or laughing
around the fires, the camp to-night has quite a lively appearance.

The river at this place is more open than for some distance above, and,
for the time, the black precipices have disappeared, and no calcareous
matter is visible in the soil. The thermometer at sunset 74 deg., clear and
calm.

2d.--The sunrise temperature was 48 deg.; the weather clear and calm. Shortly
after leaving the encampment, we crossed a stream of clear water, with a
variable breadth of 10 to 25 yards, broken by rapids, and lightly wooded
with willow, and having a little grass on its small bottom-land. The
barrenness of the country is in fine contrast to-day with the mingled
beauty and grandeur of the river, which is more open than hitherto, with a
constant succession of falls and rapids. Over the edge of the black
cliffs, and out from their faces, are falling numberless streams and
springs; and all the line of the river is in motion with the play of the
water. In about seven miles we reached the most beautiful and picturesque
fall I had seen on the river.

On the opposite side, the vertical fall is perhaps 18 feet high; and
nearer, the sheet of foaming water is divided and broken into cataracts,
where several little islands on the brink and in the river above, give it
much picturesque beauty, and make it one of those places the traveler
turns again and again to fix in his memory. There were several lodges of
Indians here, from whom we traded salmon. Below this place the river makes
a remarkable bend; and the road, ascending the ridge, gave us a fine view
of the river below, intersected at many places by numerous fish dams. In
the north, about 50 miles distant, were some high snowy peaks of the
Salmon River mountains; and in the northeast, the last peak of the range
was visible at the distance of perhaps 100 miles or more. The river hills
consist of very broken masses of sand, covered everywhere with the same
interminable fields of sage, and occasionally the road is very heavy. We
now frequently saw Indians, who were strung along the river at every
little rapid where fish are to be caught, and the cry _haggai,
haggai_, (fish,) was constantly heard whenever we passed near their
huts, or met them in the road. Very many of them were oddly and partially
dressed in overcoat, shirt, waistcoat, or pantaloons, or whatever article
of clothing they had been able to procure in trade from the emigrants; for
we had now entirely quitted the country where hawks' bells, beads, and
vermilion were the current coin, and found that here only useful articles,
and chiefly clothing, were in great request. These, however, are eagerly
sought after; and for a few trifling pieces of clothing, travelers may
procure food sufficient to carry them to the Columbia.

We made a long stretch across the upper plain, and encamped on the bluff,
where the grass was very green and good, the soil of the upper plains
containing a considerable proportion of calcareous matter. This green
freshness of the grass was very remarkable for the season of the year.
Again we heard the roar of the fall in the river below, where the water in
an unbroken volume goes over a descent of several feet. The night is
clear, and the weather continues very warm and pleasant, with a sunset
temperature of 70 deg..

3d.--The morning was pleasant, with a temperature at sunrise of 42 deg.. The
road was broken by ravines among the hills, and in one of these, which
made the bed of a dry creek, I found a fragmentary stratum, or brecciated
conglomerate, consisting of flinty slate pebbles, with fragments of
limestone containing fossil shells.

On the left, the mountains are visible at the distance of 20 or 30 miles,
appearing smooth and rather low; but at intervals higher peaks look out
from beyond, and indicate that the main ridge, which we are leaving with
the course of the river, and which forms the northern boundary of the
Great Basin, still maintains its elevation. About two o'clock we arrived
at the ford where the road crosses to the right bank of Snake river. An
Indian was hired to conduct us through the ford, which proved
impracticable for us, the water sweeping away the howitzer and nearly
drowning the mules, which we were obliged to extricate by cutting them out
of the harness. The river here is expanded into a little bay, in which
there are two islands, across which is the road of the ford; and the
emigrants had passed by placing two of their heavy wagons abreast of each
other, so as to oppose a considerable mass against the body of water. The
Indians informed us that one of the men, in attempting to turn some cattle
which had taken a wrong direction, was carried off by the current and
drowned. Since their passage, the water had risen considerably; but,
fortunately, we had a resource in a boat, which was filled with air and
launched; and at seven o'clock we were safely encamped on the opposite
bank, the animals swimming across, and the carriage, howitzer, and baggage
of the camp, being carried over in the boat. At the place where we
crossed, above the islands, the river had narrowed to a breadth of 1,049
feet by measurement, the greater portion of which was from six to eight
feet deep. We were obliged to make our camp where we landed, among the
Indian lodges, which are semicircular huts made of willow, thatched over
with straw, and open to the sunny south. By observation, the latitude of
our encampment on the right bank of the river was 42 deg. 55' 58";
chronometric longitude 115 deg. 04' 46", and the traveled distance from Fort
Hall 208 miles.

4th.--Calm, pleasant day, with the thermometer at sunrise at 47 deg.. Leaving
the river at a considerable distance to the left, and following up the bed
of a rocky creek, with occasional holes of water, in about six miles we
ascended, by a long and rather steep hill, to a plain 600 feet above the
river, over which we continued to travel during the day, having a broken
ridge 2,000 or 3,000 feet high on the right. The plain terminates, where
we ascended, in an escarpment of vesicular trap-rock, which supplies the
fragments of the creek below. The sky clouded over with a strong wind from
the northwest, with a few drops of rain and occasional sunlight,
threatening a change.

Artemisia still covers the plain, but _Purshia tridentata_ makes its
appearance here on the hill-sides and on bottoms of the creeks--quite a
tree in size, larger than the artemisia. We crossed several hollows with a
little water in them, and improved grass; and, turning off from the road
in the afternoon in search of water, traveled about three miles up the bed
of a willow creek, towards the mountain, and found a good encampment, with
wood and grass, and little ponds of water in the bed of the creek; which
must be of more importance at other seasons, as we found there several old
fixtures for fishing. There were many holes on the creek prairie, which
had been made by the Diggers in search of roots.

Wind increased to a violent gale from the N.W., with a temperature at
sunset of 57 deg..

5th..--The morning was calm and clear, and at sunrise the thermometer was
at 32 deg.. The road to-day was occasionally extremely rocky, with hard
volcanic fragments, and our traveling very slow. In about nine miles the
road brought us to a group of smoking hot springs, with a temperature of
164 deg.. There were a few helianthi in bloom, with some other low plants, and
the place was green round about; the ground warm and the air pleasant,
with a summer atmosphere that was very grateful in a day of high and cold,
searching wind. The rocks were covered with a white and red incrustation;
and the water has on the tongue the same unpleasant effect as that of the
Basin spring on Bear river. They form several branches, and bubble up with
force enough to raise the small pebbles several inches. The following is
an analysis of the deposite with which the rocks are incrusted:

Silica------------------------ 72.55
Carbonate of lime------------- 14.60
Carbonate of magnesia --------  1.20
Oxide of iron-----------------  4.65
Alumina-----------------------  0.70

Chloride of sodium, &c.-- }
Sulphate of soda--------- }---- 1.10
Sulphate of lime, &c.---- }

Organic vegetable matter- }---- 5.20
Water and loss----------- }
                              ______
                              100.00

These springs are near the foot of the ridge, (a dark and rugged-looking
mountain,) in which some of the nearer rocks have a reddish appearance,
and probably consist of a reddish-brown trap, fragments of which were
scattered along the road after leaving the spring. The road was now about
to cross the point of this mountain, which we judged to be a spur from the
Salmon River range. We crossed a small creek, and encamped about sunset on
a stream, which is probably Lake river. This is a small stream, some five
or six feet broad, with a swift current, timbered principally with willows
and some few cottonwoods. Along the banks were canes, rosebushes, and
clematis, with Purshia tridentata and artemisias on the upper bottom. The
sombre appearance of the country is somewhat relieved in coming
unexpectedly from the dark rocks upon these green and wooded water-
courses, sunk in chasms; and, in the spring, the contrasted effect must
make them beautiful.

The thermometer at sunset 47 deg., and the night threatening snow.

6th.--The morning warm, the thermometer 46 deg. at sunrise, and sky entirely
clouded. After traveling about three miles over an extremely rocky road,
the volcanic fragments began to disappear; and, entering among the hills
at the point of the mountain, we found ourselves suddenly in a granite
country. Here, the character of the vegetation was very much changed; the
artemisia disappeared almost entirely, showing only at intervals towards
the close of the day, and was replaced by Purshia tridentata, with
flowering shrubs, and small fields of _dieteria divaricata,_ which
gave bloom and gayety to the hills. These were everywhere covered with a
fresh and green short grass, like that of the early spring. This is the
fall or second growth, the dried grass having been burnt off by the
Indians; and wherever the fire has passed, the bright, green color is
universal. The soil among the hills is altogether different from that of
the river plain, being in many places black, in others sandy and gravelly,
but of a firm and good character, appearing to result from the
decomposition of the granite rocks, which is proceeding rapidly.

In quitting for a time the artemisia (sage) through which we had been so
long voyaging, and the sombre appearance of which is so discouraging, I
have to remark, that I have been informed that in Mexico wheat is grown
upon the ground which produces this shrub; which, if true, relieves the
soil from the character of sterility imputed to it. Be this as it may,
there is no dispute about the grass, which is almost universal on the
hills and mountains, and always nutritious, even in its dry state. We
passed on the way masses of granite on the slope of the spur, which was
very much weathered and abraded. This is a white feldspathic granite, with
small scales of black mica; smoky quartz and garnets appear to constitute
this portion of the mountain.

The road at noon reached a broken ridge, on which were scattered many
boulders or blocks of granite; and, passing very small streams, where,
with a little more than the usual timber, was sometimes gathered a little
wilderness of plants, we encamped on a small stream, after a march of 22
miles, in company with a few Indians. Temperature at sunset 51 deg.; and the
night was partially clear, with a few stars visible through drifting white
clouds. The Indians made an unsuccessful attempt to steal a few horses
from us--a thing of course with them, and to prevent which the traveler is
on perpetual watch.

7th.--The day was bright, clear, pleasant, with a temperature of 45 deg.; and
we breakfasted at sunrise, the birds singing in the trees as merrily as if
we were in the midst of summer. On the upper edge of the hills on the
opposite side of the creek, the black volcanic rock appears; and ascending
these, the road passed through a basin, around which the hills swept in
such a manner as to give it the appearance of an old crater. Here were
strata and broken beds of black scoriated rock, and hills composed of the
same, on the summit of one of which there was an opening resembling a
rent. We traveled to-day through a country resembling that of yesterday,
where, although the surface was hilly, the road was good, being firm, and
entirely free from rocks and artemisia. To our left, below, was the great
sage plain; and on the right were the near mountains, which presented a
smoothly-broken character, or rather a surface waved into numberless
hills. The road was occasionally enlivened by meeting Indians, and the day
was extremely beautiful and pleasant; and we were pleased to be free from
the sage, even for a day. When we had traveled about eight miles, we were
nearly opposite to the highest portion of the mountains on the left side
of the Smoke River valley; and, continuing on a few miles beyond, we came
suddenly in sight of the broad green line of the valley of the _Riviere
Boisee_, (wooded river,) black near the gorge where it debouches into
the plains, with high precipices of basalt, between walls of which it
passes, on emerging from the mountains. Following with the eye its upward
course, it appears to be shut in among lofty mountains, confining its
valley in a very rugged country.

Descending the hills, after traveling a few miles along the high plain,
the road brought us down upon the bottoms of the river, which is a
beautiful, rapid stream, with clear mountain water; and, as the name
indicates, well wooded with some varieties of timber--among which are
handsome cottonwoods. Such a stream had become quite a novelty in this
country, and we were delighted this afternoon to make a pleasant camp
under fine old trees again. There were several Indian encampments
scattered along the river; and a number of their inhabitants, in the
course of the evening, came to the camp on horseback with dried and fresh
fish, to trade. The evening was clear, and the temperature at sunset 57 deg..

At the time of the first occupation of this region by parties engaged in
the fur-trade, a small party of men, under the command of ----- Reid,
constituting all the garrison of a small fort on this river, were
surprised and massacred by the Indians; and to this event the stream owes
its occasional name of _Reid's river_. On the 8th we traveled about
26 miles, the ridge on the right having scattered pines on the upper
parts; and, continuing the next day our road along the river bottom, after
a day's travel of 24 miles, we encamped in the evening on the right bank
of the river, a mile above the mouth, and early the next morning arrived
at Fort _Boise_. This is a simple dwelling-house on the right bank of
Snake river, about a mile below the mouth of Riviere Boisee; and on our
arrival we were received with an agreeable hospitality by Mr. Payette, an
officer of the Hudson's Bay Company, in charge of the fort, all of whose
garrison consisted in a Canadian _engage_.

Here the road recrosses the river, which is broad and deep; but, with our
good boat, aided by two canoes, which were found at the place, the camp
was very soon transferred to the left bank. Here we found ourselves again
surrounded by the sage; artemisia tridentata, and the different shrubs
which during our voyage had always made their appearance abundantly on
saline soils, being here the prevailing and almost the only plants. Among
them the surface was covered with the usual saline efflorescences, which
here consist almost entirely of carbonate of soda, with a small portion of
chloride of sodium. Mr. Payette had made but slight attempts at
cultivation, his efforts being limited to raising a few vegetables, in
which he succeeded tolerably well; the post being principally supported by
salmon. He was very hospitable and kind to us, and we made a sensible
impression upon all his comestibles; but our principal inroad was into the
dairy, which was abundantly supplied, stock appearing to thrive extremely
well; and we had an unusual luxury in a present of fresh butter, which
was, however, by no means equal to that of Fort Hall--probably from some
accidental cause. During the day we remained here, there were considerable
numbers of miserable, half-naked Indians around the fort, who had arrived
from the neighboring mountains. During the summer, the only subsistence of
these people is derived from the salmon, of which they are not provident
enough to lay up a sufficient store for the winter, during which many of
them die from absolute starvation.

Many little accounts and scattered histories, together with an
acquaintance which I gradually acquired of their modes of life, had left
the aboriginal inhabitants of this vast region pictured in my mind as a
race of people whose great and constant occupation was the means of
procuring a subsistence; and though want of space and other reasons will
prevent me from detailing the many incidents which made this familiar to
me, this great feature among the characteristics of the country will
gradually be forced upon your mind.

Pointing to the group of Indians who had just arrived from the mountains
on the left side of the valley, and who were regarding our usual
appliances of civilization with an air of bewildered curiosity, Mr.
Payette informed me that, every year since his arrival at this post, he
had unsuccessfully endeavored to induce these people to lay up a store of
salmon for their winter provision. While the summer weather and the salmon
lasted, they lived contentedly and happily, scattered along the different
streams where fish are to be found; and as soon as the winter snows began
to, fall, little smokes would be seen rising among the mountains, where
they would be found in miserable groups, starving out the winter; and
sometimes, according to the general belief, reduced to the horror of
cannibalism--the strong, of course, preying on the weak. Certain it is
they are driven to any extremity for food, and eat every insect, and every
creeping thing, however loathsome and repulsive. Snails, lizards, ants--
all are devoured with the readiness and greediness of mere animals.

In common with all the other Indians we had encountered since reaching the
Pacific waters, these people use the Shoshonee or Snake language, which
you will have occasion to remark, in the course of the narrative, is the
universal language over a very extensive region.

On the evening of the 10th, I obtained, with the usual observations, a
very excellent emersion of the first satellite, agreeing very nearly with
the chronometer. From these observations, the longitude of the fort is
116 deg. 47' 00", latitude 43 deg. 49' 22", and elevation above the sea 2,100
feet.

Sitting by the fire on the river bank, and waiting for the immersion of
the satellite, which did not take place until after midnight, we heard the
monotonous song of the Indians, with which they accompany a certain game
of which they are very fond. Of the poetry we could not judge, but the
music was miserable.

11th.--The morning was clear, with a light breeze from the east, and a
temperature at sunrise of 33 deg.. A part of a bullock purchased at the fort,
together with the boat, to assist him in crossing, was left here for Mr.
Fitzpatrick, and at 11 o'clock we resumed our journey; and directly
leaving the river, and crossing the artemisia plain, in several ascents we
reached the foot of a ridge, where the road entered a dry sandy hollow, up
which it continued to the head; and, crossing a dividing ridge, entered a
similar one. We met here two poor emigrants, (Irishmen,) who had lost
their horses two days since--probably stolen by the Indians; and were
returning to the fort, in hopes to hear something of them there. They had
recently had nothing to eat; and I halted to unpack an animal, and gave
them meat for their dinner. In this hollow, the artemisia is partially
displaced on the hill-sides by grass; and descending it -- miles, about
sunset we reached the _Riviere aux Malheurs_, (the unfortunate or
unlucky river,)--a considerable stream, with an average breadth of 50
feet, and, at this time, 18 inches' depth of water.

The bottom lands were generally one and a half mile broad, covered
principally with long dry grass; and we had difficulty to find sufficient
good grass for the camp. With the exception of a bad place of a few
hundred yards long, which occurred in rounding a point of hill to reach
the ford of the river, the road during the day had been very good.

12th.--The morning was clear and calm, and the thermometer at sunrise 23 deg..
My attention was attracted by a smoke on the right side of the river, a
little below the ford, where I found, on the low banks near the water, a
considerable number of hot springs, in which the temperature of the water
was 193 deg.. The ground, which was too hot for the naked foot, was covered
above and below the springs with an incrustation of common salt, very
white and good, and fine-grained.

Leading for five miles up a broad dry branch of the Malheurs river, the
road entered a sandy hollow, where the surface was rendered firm by the
admixture of other rock; being good and level until arriving near the head
of the ravine, where it became a little rocky, and we met with a number of
sharp ascents over an undulating surface. Crossing here a dividing ridge,
it becomes an excellent road of gradual descent down a very marked hollow;
in which, after ten miles, willows began to appear in the dry bed of a
head of the _Riviere aux Bouleaux_, (Birch river;) and descending
seven miles, we found, at its junction with another branch, a little
water, not very good or abundant, but sufficient, in case of necessity,
for a camp. Crossing Birch river, we continued for about four miles across
a point of hill; the country on the left being entirely mountainous, with
no level spot to be seen; whence we descended to Snake river--here a fine-
looking stream, with a large body of water and a smooth current; although
we hear the roar, and see below us the commencement of rapids, where it
enters among the hills. It forms here a deep bay, with a low sand island
in the midst; and its course among the mountains is agreeably exchanged
for the black volcanic rock. The weather during the day had been very
bright and extremely hot; but, as usual, so soon as the sun went down, it
was necessary to put on overcoats.

I obtained this evening an observation of an emersion of the first
satellite, and our observations of the evening place this encampment in
latitude 44 deg. 17' 36", and longitude 116 deg. 56' 45", which is the mean of the
results from the satellite and chronometer. The elevation above the sea is
1,880 feet. At this encampment, the grass is scanty and poor.

13th.--The morning was bright, with the temperature at sunrise 28 deg.. The
horses had strayed off during the night, probably in search of grass; and,
after a considerable delay, we had succeeded in finding all but two, when,
about nine o'clock, we heard the sound of an Indian song and drum
approaching; and shortly after, three Cayuse Indians appeared in sight,
bringing with them the two animals. They belonged to a party which had
been on a buffalo-hunt in the neighborhood of the Rocky mountains, and
were hurrying home in advance. We presented them with some tobacco and
other things, with which they appeared well satisfied, and, moderating
their pace, traveled in company with us.

We were now about to leave the valley of the great southern branch of the
Columbia river, to which the absence of timber, and the scarcity of water,
give the appearance of a desert, to enter a mountainous region, where the
soil is good, and in which the face of the country is covered with
nutritious grasses and dense forest--land embracing many varieties of
trees peculiar to the country, and on which the timber exhibits a
luxuriance of growth unknown to the eastern part of the continent and to
Europe. This mountainous region connects itself in the southward and
westward with the elevated country belonging to the Cascade or California
range; and, as will be remarked in the course of the narrative, forms the
eastern limit of the fertile and timbered lands along the desert and
mountainous region included within the Great Basin--a term which I apply
to the intermediate region between the Rocky mountains and the next range,
containing many lakes, with their own system of rivers and creeks, (of
which the Great Salt is the principal,) and which have no connection with
the ocean, or the great rivers which flow into it. This Great Basin is yet
to be adequately explored. And here, on quitting the banks of a sterile
river, to enter on arable mountains, the remark may be made, that, on this
western slope of our continent, the usual order or distribution of good
and bad soil is often reversed; the river and creek bottoms being often
sterile, and darkened with the gloomy and barren artemisia; while the
mountain is often fertile, and covered with rich grass, pleasant to the
eye, and good for flocks and herds.

Leaving entirely the Snake river, which is said henceforth to pursue its
way through canons, amidst rocky and impracticable mountains, where there
is no possibility of traveling with animals, we ascended a long and steep
hill; and crossing the dividing ridge, came down into the valley of
_Burnt_ river, which here looks like a hole among the hills. The
average breadth of the stream here is thirty feet; it is well fringed with
the usual small timber; and the soil in the bottoms is good, with better
grass than we had lately been accustomed to see.

We now traveled through a very mountainous country; the stream running
rather in a ravine than a valley, and the road is decidedly bad and
dangerous for single wagons, frequently crossing the stream where the
water is sometimes deep; and all the day the animals were fatigued in
climbing up and descending a succession of steep ascents, to avoid the
precipitous hill-sides; and the common trail, which leads along the
mountain-side at places where the river strikes the base, is sometimes bad
even for a horseman. The mountains along this day's journey were composed,
near the river, of a slaty calcareous rock in a metamorphic condition. It
appears originally to have been a slaty sedimentary limestone, but its
present condition indicates that it has been altered, and has become
partially crystalline--probably from the proximity of volcanic rocks. But
though traveling was slow and fatiguing to the animals, we were delighted
with the appearance of the country, which was green and refreshing after
our tedious journey down the parched valley of Snake river. The mountains
were covered with good bunch-grass, (_festuca_;) the water of the
streams was cold and pure; their bottoms were handsomely wooded with
various kinds of trees; and huge and lofty picturesque precipices where
the river cut through the mountain.

We found in the evening some good grass and rushes; and encamped among
large timber, principally birch, which had been recently burnt, and
blackened, and almost destroyed by fire. The night was calm and tolerably
clear, with the thermometer at sunset at 59 deg.. Our journey to-day was about
twenty miles.

14th.--The day was clear and calm, with a temperature at sunrise of 46 deg..
After traveling about three miles up the valley, we found the river shut
up by precipices in a kind of canon, and the road makes a circuit over the
mountains. In the afternoon we reached the river again, by another little
ravine; and, after traveling along it for a few miles, left it enclosed
among rude mountains; and, ascending a smaller branch; encamped on it
about five o'clock, very much elevated above the valley. The view was
everywhere limited by mountains, on which were no longer seen the black
and barren rocks, but a fertile soil, with excellent grass, and partly
well covered with pine. I have never seen a wagon-road equally bad in the
same space, as this of yesterday and to-day. I noticed where one wagon had
been overturned twice, in a very short distance; and it was surprising to
me that those wagons which were in the rear, and could not have had much
assistance, got through at all. Still, there is no mud; and the road has
one advantage, in being perfectly firm. The day had been warm and very
pleasant, and the night was perfectly clear.

15th.--The thermometer at daylight was 42 deg., and at sunrise 40 deg.; clouds,
which were scattered over all the sky, disappeared with the rising sun.
The trail did not much improve until we had crossed the dividing-ground
between the _Brulee_ (Burnt) and Powder rivers. The rock displayed on
the mountains, as we approached the summit, was a compact trap, decomposed
on the exposed surfaces, and apparently an altered argillaceous sandstone,
containing small crystalline nodules of anolcime, apparently filling
cavities originally existing. From the summit here, the whole horizon
shows high mountains; no high plain or level is to be seen; and on the
left, from south around by the west to north, the mountains are black with
pines; while, through the remaining space to the eastward, they are bald,
with the exception of some scattered pines. You will remark that we are
now entering a region where all the elevated parts are covered with dense
and heavy forests. From the dividing grounds we descended by a mountain
road to Powder river, on an old bed of which we encamped. Descending from
the summit, we enjoyed a picturesque view of high rocky mountains on the
right, illuminated by the setting sun.

From the heights we had looked in vain for a well known landmark on Powder
river, which had been described to me by Mr. Payette as _l'arbre
seul_, (the lone tree;) and, on arriving at the river, we found a fine
tall pine stretched on the ground, which had been felled by some
inconsiderate emigrant axe. It had been a beacon on the road for many
years past. Our Cayuses had become impatient to reach their homes, and
traveled on ahead to day; and this afternoon we were visited by several
Indians who belonged to the tribes on the Columbia. They were on
horseback, and were out on a hunting excursion, but had obtained no better
game than a large gray hare, of which each had some six or seven hanging
to his saddle. We were also visited by an Indian who had his lodge and
family in the mountain to the left. He was in want of ammunition, and
brought with him a beaver-skin to exchange, and which he valued at six
charges of powder and ball. I learned from him that there are very few of
these animals remaining in this part of the country.

The temperature at sunset was 61 deg., and the evening clear. I obtained, with
other observations, an immersion and emersion of the third satellite.
Elevation 3,100 feet.

16th.--For several weeks the weather in the daytime has been very
beautiful, clear, and warm; but the nights, in comparison, are very cold.
During the night there was ice a quarter of an inch thick in the lodge;
and at daylight the thermometer was at 16 deg., and the same at sunrise, the
weather being calm and clear. The annual vegetation now is nearly gone,
almost all the plants being out of bloom.

Last night two of our horses had run off again, which delayed us until
noon, and we made to-day but a short journey of 13 miles, the road being
very good, and encamped in a fine bottom of Powder river.

The thermometer at sunset was at 61 deg., with an easterly wind, and partially
clear sky; and the day has been quite pleasant and warm, though more
cloudy than yesterday; and the sun was frequently faint, but it grew finer
and clearer towards evening.

17th.--Thermometer at sunrise 25 deg.. The weather at daylight was fine, and
the sky without a cloud; but these came up, or were formed by the sun, and
at seven were thick over all the sky. Just now, this appears to be the
regular course--clear and brilliant during the night, and cloudy during
the day. There is snow yet visible in the neighboring mountains, which
yesterday extended along our route to the left, in a lofty and dark-blue
range, having much the appearance of the Wind River mountains. It is
probable that they have received their name of the _Blue mountains_
from the dark-blue appearance given to them by the pines. We traveled this
morning across the affluents to Powder river, the road being good, firm,
and level, and the country became constantly more pleasant and
interesting. The soil appeared to be very deep, and is black and extremely
good, as well among the hollows of the hills on the elevated plats, as on
the river bottoms, the vegetation being such as is usually found in good
ground. The following analytical result shows the precise qualities of
this soil, and will justify to science the character of fertility which
the eye attributes to it:

_Analysis of Powder river soil._


Silica ----------------- 72.30
Alumina ----------------  6.25
Carbonate of lime ------  6.86
Carbonate of magnesia --  4.62
Oxide of iron ----------  1.20
Organic matter ---------  4.50
Water and loss ---------  4.27
                        ______
                        100.00

From the waters of this stream, the road ascended by a good and moderate
ascent to a dividing ridge, but immediately entered upon ground covered
with fragments of an altered silicious slate, which are in many places
large, and render the road racking to a carriage. In this rock the planes
of deposition are distinctly preserved, and the metamorphism is evidently
due to the proximity of volcanic rocks. On either side, the mountains here
are densely covered with tall and handsome trees; and, mingled with the
green of a variety of pines, is the yellow of the European larch,
(_pinus larix_,) which loses its leaves in the fall. From its present
color, we were enabled to see that it forms a large proportion of the
forests on the mountains, and is here a magnificent tree, attaining
sometimes the height of 200 feet, which I believe is elsewhere unknown.
About two in the afternoon we reached a high point of the dividing ridge,
from which we obtained a good view of the _Grand Rond_--a beautiful
level basin, or mountain valley, covered with good grass, on a rich soil,
abundantly watered, and surrounded by high and well-timbered mountains--
and its name descriptive of its form--the great circle. It is a place--one
of the few we have seen on our journey so far--where a farmer would
delight to establish himself, if he were content to live in the seclusion
which it imposes. It is about 20 miles in diameter, and may, in time, form
a superb county. Probably with the view of avoiding a circuit, the wagons
had directly descended into the _Rond_ by the face of a hill so very
rocky and continuously steep as to be apparently impracticable, and,
following down on their trail, we encamped on one of the branches of the
Grand Rond river, immediately at the foot of the hill. I had remarked, in
descending, some very white spots glistening on the plain, and, going out
in that direction after we had encamped, I found them to be the bed of a
dry salt lake, or marsh, very firm and bare, which was covered thickly
with a fine white powder, containing a large quantity of carbonate of
soda, (thirty-three in one hundred parts.)

The old grass had been lately burnt off from the surrounding hills, and,
wherever the fire had passed, there was a recent growth of strong, green,
and vigorous grass; and the soil of the level prairie, which sweeps
directly up to the foot of the surrounding mountains, appears to be very
rich, producing flax spontaneously and luxuriantly in various places.

 _Analysis of Grand Rond soil._

Silica,---------------------------------- 70.81
Alumina,--------------------------------- 10.97
Lime and magnesia,-----------------------  1.38
Oxide of iron,---------------------------  2.21
Vegetable matter, partly decomposed,----   8.16
Water and loss,--------------------------  5.46
Phosphate of lime,-----------------------  1.01
                                         ______
                                         100.00

The elevation of this encampment is 2,940 feet above the sea.

18th.--It began to rain an hour before sunrise, and continued until ten
o'clock; the sky entirely overcast, and the temperature at sunrise 48 deg..

We resumed our journey somewhat later than usual, travelling in a nearly
north direction across the beautiful valley; and about noon reached a
place on one of the principal streams, where I had determined to leave the
emigrant trail, in the expectation of finding a more direct and better
road across the Blue mountains. At this place the emigrants appeared to
have held some consultation as to their further route, and finally turned
directly off to the left; reaching the foot of the mountain in about three
miles, which they ascended by a hill as steep and difficult as that by
which we had yesterday descended to the Rond. Quitting, therefore, this
road, which, after a very rough crossing, issues from the mountains by the
heads of the _Umatilah_ river, we continued our northern course
across the valley, following an Indian trail which had been indicated to
me by Mr. Payette, and encamped at the northern extremity of the Grand
Rond, on a slough-like stream of very deep water, without any apparent
current. There are some pines here on the low hills at the creek; and in
the northwest corner of the Rond is a very heavy body of timber, which
descends into the plain. The clouds, which had rested very low along the
mountain sides during the day, rose gradually up in the afternoon; and in
the evening the sky was almost entirely clear, with a temperature at
sunset of 47 deg.. Some indifferent observations placed the camp in longitude
117 deg. 28' 26", latitude 45 deg. 26' 47"; and the elevation was 2,600 feet above
the sea.

19th.--This morning the mountains were hidden by fog; there was a heavy
dew during the night, in which the exposed thermometer at daylight stood
at 32 deg., and at sunrise the temperature was 35 deg..

We passed out of the Grand Rond by a fine road along the creek, which, for
a short distance, runs in a kind of rocky chasm. Crossing a low point,
which was a little rocky, the trail conducted into the open valley of the
stream--a handsome place for farms; the soil, even of the hills, being
rich and black. Passing through a point of pines, which bore evidences of
being very much frequented by the Indians, and in which the trees were
sometimes apparently 200 feet high, and three to seven feet in diameter,
we halted for a few minutes in the afternoon at the foot of the Blue
mountains, on a branch of the Grand Rond river, at an elevation of 2,700
feet. Resuming our journey, we commenced the ascent of the mountains
through an open pine forest of large and stately trees, among which the
balsam pine made its appearance; the road being good, with the exception
of one steep ascent, with a corresponding descent, which might both have
been easily avoided by opening the way for a short distance through the
timber. It would have been well had we encamped on the stream where we had
halted below, as the night overtook us on the mountain, and we were
obliged to encamp without water, and tie up the animals to the trees for
the night. We halted on a smooth open place of a narrow ridge, which
descended very rapidly to a ravine or piny hollow, at a considerable
distance below; and it was quite a pretty spot, had there been water near.
But the fires at night look very cheerless after a day's march, when there
is no preparation for supper going on; and, after sitting some time around
the blazing logs, Mr. Preuss and Carson, with several others, volunteered
to take the India-rubber buckets and go down into the ravine in search of
water. It was a very difficult way in the darkness down the slippery side
of the steep mountain, and harder still to climb about half a mile up
again; but they found the water, and the cup of coffee (which it enabled
us to make) and bread were only enjoyed with greater pleasure.

At sunset the temperature was 46 deg.; the evening remarkably clear; and I
obtained an emersion of the first satellite, which does not give a good
result, although the observation was a very good one. The chronometric
longitude was 117 deg. 28' 34", latitude 45 deg. 38' 07", and we had ascended to
an elevation of 3,830 feet. It appeared to have snowed yesterday on the
mountains, their summits showing very white to-day.

20th.--There was a heavy white frost during the night, and at sunrise the
temperature was 37 deg..

The animals had eaten nothing during the night; and we made an early
start, continuing our route among the pines, which were more dense than
yesterday, and still retained their magnificent size. The larches cluster
together in masses on the side of the mountains, and their yellow foliage
contrasts handsomely with the green of the balsam and other pines. After a
few miles we ceased to see any pines, and the timber consisted of several
varieties of spruce, larch, and balsam pine, which have a regularly
conical figure. These trees appeared from 60 to nearly 200 feet in height;
the usual circumference being 10 to 12 feet, and in the pines sometimes 21
feet. In open places near the summit, these trees became less high and
more branching, the conical form having a greater base. The instrument
carriage occasioned much delay, it being frequently necessary to fell
trees and remove the fallen timber. The trail we were following led up a
long spur, with a very gradual and gentle rise. At the end of three miles,
we halted at an open place near the summit, from which we enjoyed a fine
view over the mountainous country where we had lately traveled, to take a
barometrical observation at the height of 4,460 feet.

After traveling occasionally through open places in the forest, we were
obliged to cut a way through a dense body of timber, from which we emerged
on an open mountain-side, where we found a number of small springs, and
encamped after a day's journey of ten miles. Our elevation here was 5,000
feet.

21st.--There was a very heavy white frost during the night, and the
thermometer at sunrise was 30 deg..

We continued to travel through the forest, in which the road was rendered
difficult by fallen trunks, and obstructed by many small trees, which it
was necessary to cut down. But these are only accidental difficulties,
which could easily be removed, and a very excellent road may be had
through this pass, with no other than very moderate ascents or
declivities. A laborious day, which had advanced us only six miles on the
road, brought us in the afternoon to an opening in the forest, in which
there was a fine mountain meadow, with good grass, and a large clear-water
stream--one of the head branches of the _Umatilah_ river. During this
day's journey, the barometer was broken; and the elevations above the sea,
hereafter given, depend upon the temperature of boiling water. Some of the
white spruces which I measured to-day were twelve feet in circumference,
and one of the larches ten; but eight feet was the average circumference
of those measured along the road. I held in my hand a tape line as I
walked along, in order to form some correct idea of the size of the
timber. Their height appeared to be from 100 to 180, and perhaps 200 feet,
and the trunks of the larches were sometimes 100 feet without a limb; but
the white spruces were generally covered with branches nearly to the root.
All these trees have their branches, particularly the lower ones,
declining.

22d.--The white frost this morning was like snow on the ground; the ice
was a quarter of an inch thick on the creek, and the thermometer at
sunrise was at 20 deg.. But, in a few hours, the day became warm and pleasant,
and our road over the mountains was delightful and full of enjoyment.

The trail passed sometimes through very thick young timber, in which there
was much cutting to be done; but, after traveling a few miles, the
mountains became more bald, and we reached a point from which there was a
very extensive view in the northwest. We were on the western verge of the
Blue mountains, long spurs of which, very precipitous on either side
extended down into the valley, the waters of the mountain roaring between
them. On our right was a mountain plateau, covered with a dense forest;
and to the westward, immediately below us, was the great _Nez Perce_
(pierced nose) prairie, in which dark lines of timber indicated the course
of many affluents to a considerable stream that was pursuing its way
across the plain towards what appeared to be the Columbia river. This I
knew to be the Walahwalah river, and occasional spots along its banks,
which resembled clearings, were supposed to be the mission or Indian
settlements; but the weather was smoky and unfavorable to far views with
the glass. The rock displayed here in the escarpments is a compact
amorphous trap, which appears to constitute the mass of the Blue mountains
in this latitude; and all the region of country through which we have
traveled since leaving the Snake river has been the seat of violent and
extensive igneous action. Along the Burnt River valley, the strata are
evidently sedimentary rocks, altered by the intrusion of volcanic
products, which in some instances have penetrated and essentially changed
their original condition. Along our line of route from this point to the
California mountains, there seems but little essential change. All our
specimens of sedimentary rocks show them much altered, and volcanic
productions appear to prevail throughout the whole intervening distance.

The road now led along the mountain side, around heads of the precipitous
ravines; and keeping men ahead to clear the road, we passed alternately
through bodies of timber and small open prairies, and encamped in a large
meadow, in view of the great prairie below.

At sunset the thermometer was at 40 deg., and the night was very clear and
bright. Water was only to be had here by descending a bad ravine, into
which we drove our animals, and had much trouble with them in a very close
growth of small pines. Mr. Preuss had walked ahead and did not get into
the camp this evening. The trees here maintained their size, and one of
the black spruces measured 15 feet in circumference. In the neighborhood
of the camp, pines have reappeared here among the timber.

23d.--The morning was very clear; there had been a heavy white frost
during the night, and at sunrise the thermometer was at 31 deg..

After cutting through two thick bodies of timber, in which I noticed some
small trees of _hemlock_ spruce, (_perusse_) the forest became
more open, and we had no longer any trouble to clear a way. The pines here
were 11 or 12 feet in circumference, and about 110 feet high, and appeared
to love the open grounds. The trail now led along one of the long spurs of
the mountain, descending gradually towards the plain; and after a few
miles traveling, we emerged finally from the forest, in full view of the
plain below, and saw the snowy mass of Mount Hood, standing high out above
the surrounding country at the distance of 180 miles. The road along the
ridge was excellent, and the grass very green and good; the old grass
having been burnt off early in the autumn. About 4 o'clock in the
afternoon we reached a little bottom of the Walahwalah river, where we
found Mr. Preuss, who yesterday had reached this place, and found himself
too far in advance of the camp to return. The stream here has just issued
from the narrow ravines, which are walled with precipices, in which the
rock has a brown and more burnt appearance than above.

At sunset the thermometer was at 48 deg., and our position was in longitude
118 deg. 00' 39", and in latitude 45 deg. 53' 35".

The morning was clear, with a temperature at sunrise of 24 deg.. Crossing the
river, we traveled over a hilly country with a good bunch-grass; the river
bottom, which generally contains the best soil in other countries, being
here a sterile level of rocks and pebbles. We had found the soil in the
Blue mountains to be of excellent quality, and it appeared also to be good
here among the lower hills. Reaching a little eminence over which the
trail passed, we had an extensive view along the course of the river,
which was divided and spread over its bottom in a network of water,
receiving several other tributaries from the mountains. There was a band
of several hundred horses grazing on the hills about two miles ahead; and
as we advanced on the road we met other bands, which Indians were driving
out to pasture also on the hills. True to its general character, the
reverse of other countries, the hills and mountains here were rich in
grass, the bottoms barren and sterile.

In six miles we crossed a principal fork, below which the scattered waters
of the river were gathered into one channel; and, passing on the way
several unfinished houses; and some cleared patches, where corn and
potatoes were cultivated, we reached, in about eight miles further, the
missionary establishment of Dr. Whitman, which consisted at this time of
one _adobe_ house--_i.e._, built of unburnt bricks as in Mexico.

I found Dr. Whitman absent on a visit to the _Dalles_ of the
Columbia; but had the pleasure to see a fine-looking family of emigrants,
men, women, and children, in robust health, all indemnifying themselves
for previous scanty fare, in a hearty consumption of potatoes, which are
produced here of a remarkably good quality. We were disappointed in our
expectation of obtaining corn-meal or flour at this station, the mill
belonging to the mission having been lately burned down; but an abundant
supply of excellent potatoes banished regrets, and furnished a grateful
substitute for bread. A small town of Nez Perce Indians gave an inhabited
and even a populous appearance to the station; and, after remaining about
an hour, we continued our route and encamped on the river about four miles
below, passing on the way an emigrant encampment.

Temperature at sunset, 49 deg..

25th..--The weather was pleasant, with a sunrise temperature of 36 deg.. Our
road to-day had nothing in it of interest; and the country offered to the
eye only a sandy, undulating plain, through which a scantily-timbered
river takes its course. We halted about three miles above the mouth, on
account of grass; and the next morning arrived at the Nez Perce fort, one
of the trading establishments of the Hudson Bay Company, a few hundred
yards above the junction of the Walahwalah with the Columbia river. Here
we had the first view of this river, and found it about 1,200 yards wide,
and presenting the appearance of a fine, navigable stream. We made our
camp in a little grove of willows on the Walahwalah, which are the only
trees to be seen in the neighborhood; but were obliged to send the animals
back to the encampment we had left, as there was scarcely a blade of grass
to be found. The post is on the bank of the Columbia, on a plain of bare
sands, from which the air was literally filled with clouds of dust and
sand, during one of the few days we remained here; this place being one of
the several points on the river which are distinguished for prevailing
high winds, that come from the sea. The appearance of the post and country
was without interest, except that we here saw, for the first time, the
great river on which the course of events for the last half century has
been directing attention and conferring historical fame. The river is,
indeed, a noble object, and has here attained its full magnitude. About
nine miles above, and in sight from the heights about this post, is the
junction of the two great forks which constitute the main stream--that on
which we had been traveling from Fort Hall, and known by the names of
Lewis's fork, Shoshonee, and Snake river; and the North fork, which has
retained the name of Columbia, as being the main stream.

We did not go up to the junction, being pressed for time; but the union of
two large streams, coming one from the southeast, and the other from the
northeast, and meeting in what may be treated as the geographical centre
of the Oregon valley, thence doubling the volume of water to the ocean,
while opening two great lines of communication with the interior
continent, constitutes a feature in the map of the country which cannot be
overlooked; and it was probably in reference to this junction of waters,
and these lines of communication, that this post was established. They are
important lines, and, from the structure of the country, must forever
remain so,--one of them leading to the South Pass and to the valley of the
Mississippi, the other to the pass at the head of the Athabasca river, and
to the countries drained by the waters of the Hudson Bay. The British fur
companies now use both lines; the Americans, in their emigration to
Oregon, have begun to follow the one which leads towards the United
States. Bateaux from tide-water ascend to the junction, and thence high up
the North fork, or Columbia. Land conveyance only is used upon the line of
Lewis's fork. To the emigrants to Oregon, the Nez Perce is a point of
great interest, as being, to those who choose it, the termination of their
overland journey. The broad expanse of the river here invites them to
embark on its bosom; and the lofty trees of the forest furnish the means
of doing so.

From the South Pass to this place is about 1,000 miles; and as it is about
the same distance from that pass to the Missouri river at the mouth of the
Kansas, it may be assumed that 2,000 miles is the _necessary_ land
travel in crossing from the United States to the Pacific ocean on this
line. From the mouth of the Great Platte it would be about 100 miles less.

Mr. McKinley, the commander of the post, received us with great civility;
and both to myself, and the heads of the emigrants who were there at the
time, extended the rights of hospitality in a comfortable dinner to which
he invited us.

By a meridional altitude of the sun, the only observation that the weather
permitted us to obtain, the mouth of the Walahwalah river is in latitude
46 deg. 03' 46"; and, by the road we had traveled, 612 miles from Fort Hall.
At the time of our arrival, a considerable body of emigrants, under the
direction of Mr. Applegate, a man of considerable resolution and energy,
had nearly completed the building of a number of Mackinaw boats, in which
they proposed to continue their further voyage down the Columbia. I had
seen, in descending the Walahwalah river, a fine drove of several hundred
cattle, which they had exchanged for California cattle, to be received at
Vancouver, and which are considered a very inferior breed. The other
portion of the emigration had preferred to complete their journey by land
along the banks of the Columbia, taking their stock and wagons with them.

Having reinforced our animals with eight fresh horses, hired from the
post, and increased our stock of provisions with dried salmon, potatoes,
and a little beef, we resumed our journey down the left bank of the
Columbia, being guided on our road by an intelligent Indian boy, whom I
had engaged to accompany us as far as the Dalles.

From an elevated point over which the road led, we obtained another far
view of Mount Hood, 150 miles distant. We obtained on the river bank an
observation of the sun at noon, which gave for the latitude 45 deg. 58' 08".
The country to-day was very unprepossessing, and our road bad; and as we
toiled slowly along through deep loose sands, and over fragments of black
volcanic rock, our laborious traveling was strongly contrasted with the
rapid progress of Mr. Applegate's fleet of boats, which suddenly came
gliding swiftly down the broad river, which here chanced to be tranquil
and smooth. At evening we encamped on the river bank, where there was very
little grass, and less timber. We frequently met Indians on the road, and
they were collected at every favorable spot along the river.

29th.--The road continued along the river, and in the course of the day
Mount St. Helens, another snowy peak of the Cascade range, was visible. We
crossed the Umatilah river at a fall near its mouth. This stream is of the
same class as the Walahwalah river, with a bed of volcanic rock, in places
split into fissures. Our encampment was similar to that of yesterday;
there was very little grass, and no wood. The Indians brought us some
pieces for sale, which were purchased to make our fires.

31st.--By observation, our camp is in latitude 45 deg. 50' 05", and longitude
119 deg. 22' 18". The night has been cold, and we have white frost this
morning, with a temperature at daylight of 25 deg., and at sunrise of 24 deg.. The
early morning was very clear, and the stars bright; but, as usual, since
we are on the Columbia, clouds formed immediately with the rising sun. The
day continued fine, the east being covered with scattered clouds, but the
west remaining clear, showing the remarkable cone-like peak of Mount Hood
brightly drawn against the sky. This was in view all day in the southwest,
but no other peaks of the range were visible. Our road was a bad one, of
very loose, deep sand. We met on the way a party of Indians unusually
well-dressed. They appeared intelligent, and, in our slight intercourse,
impressed me with the belief that they possessed some aptitude for
acquiring languages.

We continued to travel along the river, the stream being interspersed with
many sand-bars (it being the season of low water) and with many islands,
and an apparently good navigation. Small willows were the only wood; rock
and sand the prominent geological feature. The rock of this section is a
very compact and tough basalt, occurring in strata which have the
appearance of being broken into fragments, assuming the form of columnar
hills, and appearing always in escarpments, with the broken fragments
strewed at the base and over the adjoining country.

We made a late encampment on the river, and used to-night the _purshia
tridentata_ for firewood. Among the rocks which formed the bank, was
very good green grass. Latitude 45 deg. 44' 23", longitude 119 deg. 45' 09".



NOVEMBER.


1st.--Mount Hood is glowing in the sunlight this morning, and the air is
pleasant, with a temperature of 38 deg.. We continued down the river, and,
passing through a pretty green valley, bounded by high precipitous rocks,
encamped at the lower end.

On the right shore, the banks of the Columbia are very high and steep; the
river is 1,690 feet broad, and dark bluffs of rock give it a picturesque
appearance.

2d.--The river here entered among bluffs, leaving no longer room for a
road; and we accordingly left it, and took a more inland way among the
river hills--on which we had no sooner entered, than we found a great
improvement in the country. The sand had disappeared, and the soil was
good, and covered with excellent grass, although the surface was broken
into high hills, with uncommonly deep valleys. At noon we crossed John
Day's river, a clear and beautiful stream, with a swift current and a bed
of rolled stones. It is sunk in a deep valley, which is characteristic of
all the streams in this region; and the hill we descended to reach it well
deserves the name of mountain. Some of the emigrants had encamped on the
river, and others at the summit of the farther hill, the ascent of which
had probably cost their wagons a day's labor; and others again had halted
for the night a few miles beyond, where they had slept without water. We
also encamped in a grassy hollow without water; but, as we had been
forewarned of this privation by the guide, the animals had all been
watered at the river, and we had brought with us a sufficient quantity for
the night.

3d.--After two hours' ride through a fertile, hilly country, covered, as
all the upland here appears to be, with good green grass, we descended
again into the river bottom, along which we resumed our sterile road, and
in about four miles reached the ford of the Fall river, (_Riviere aux
Chutes_,) a considerable tributary to the Columbia. We had heard, on
reaching the Nez Perce fort, a repetition of the account in regard to the
unsettled character of the Columbia Indians at the present time; and to
our little party they had at various points manifested a not very friendly
disposition, in several attempts to steal our horses. At this place I
expected to find a badly-disposed band, who had plundered a party of 14
emigrant men a few days before, and taken away their horses; and
accordingly we made the necessary preparation for our security, but
happily met with no difficulty.

The river was high, divided into several arms, with a rocky island at its
outlet into the Columbia, which at this place it rivalled in size, and
apparently derived its highly characteristic name, which is received from
one of its many falls some forty miles up the river. It entered the
Columbia with a roar of falls and rapids, and is probably a favorite
fishing station among the Indians, with whom both banks of the river were
populous; but they scarcely paid any attention to us. The ford was very
difficult at this time, and, had they entertained any bad intentions, they
were offered a good opportunity to carry them out, as I drove directly
into the river, and during the crossing the howitzer was occasionally
several feet under water, and a number of the men appeared to be more
often below than above. Our guide was well acquainted with the ford, and
we succeeded in getting every thing safe over to the left bank. We delayed
here only a short time to put the gun in order, and, ascending a long
mountain hill, resumed our route again among the interior hills.

The roar of the _Falls of the Columbia_ is heard from the heights,
where we halted a few moments to enjoy a fine view of the river below. In
the season of high water, it would be a very interesting object to visit,
in order to witness what is related of the annual submerging of the fall
under the waters which back up from the basin below, constituting a great
natural lock at this place. But time had become an object of serious
consideration; and the Falls, in their present state, had been seen and
described by many.

After a day's journey of 17 miles, we encamped among the hills on a little
clear stream, where, as usual, the Indians immediately gathered round us.
Among them was a very old man, almost blind from age, with long and very
white hair. I happened of my own accord to give this old man a present of
tobacco, and was struck with the impression which my unpropitiated notice
made on the Indians, who appeared in a remarkable manner acquainted with
the real value of goods, and to understand the equivalents of trade. At
evening, one of them spoke a few words to his people, and, telling me that
we need entertain no uneasiness in regard to our animals, as none of them
would be disturbed, they went all quietly away. In the morning, when they
again came to the camp, I expressed to them the gratification we felt at
their reasonable conduct, making them a present of some large knives and a
few smaller articles.

4th.--The road continued among the hills, and, reaching an eminence, we
saw before us, watered by a clear stream, a tolerably large valley,
through which the trail passed.

In comparison with the Indians of the Rocky mountains and the great
eastern plain, these are disagreeably dirty in their habits. Their huts
were crowded with half-naked women and children, and the atmosphere within
was any thing but pleasant to persons who had just been riding in the
fresh morning air. We were somewhat amused with the scanty dress of a
woman, who, in common with the others, rushed out of the huts on our
arrival, and who, in default of other covering, used a child for a fig-
leaf.

The road in about half an hour passed near an elevated point, from which
we overlooked the valley of the Columbia for many miles, and saw in the
distance several houses surrounded by fields, which a chief, who had
accompanied us from the village, pointed out to us as the Methodist
missionary station.

In a few miles we descended to the river, which we reached at one of its
remarkably interesting features, known as the _Dalles of the
Columbia_. The whole volume of the river at this place passed between
the walls of a chasm, which has the appearance of having been rent through
the basaltic strata which form the valley-rock of the region. At the
narrowest place we found the breadth, by measurement, 58 yards, and the
average height of the walls above the water 25 feet; forming a trough
between the rocks--whence the name, probably applied by a Canadian
voyageur. The mass of water, in the present low state of the river, passed
swiftly between, deep and black, and curled into many small whirlpools and
counter currents, but unbroken by foam, and so still that scarcely the
sound of a ripple was heard. The rock, for a considerable distance from
the river, was worn over a large portion of its surface into circular
holes and well-like cavities, by the abrasion of the river, which, at the
season of high waters, is spread out over the adjoining bottoms.

In the recent passage through this chasm, an unfortunate event had
occurred to Mr. Applegate's party, in the loss of one of their boats,
which had been carried under water in the midst of the _Dalles_, and
two of Mr. Applegate's children and one man drowned. This misfortune was
attributed only to want of skill in the steersman, as at this season there
was no impediment to navigation; although the place is entirely impassable
at high water, when boats pass safely over the great falls above, in the
submerged state in which they then find themselves.

The basalt here is precisely the same as that which constitutes the rock
of the valley higher up the Columbia, being very compact, with a few round
cavities.

We passed rapidly three or four miles down the level valley and encamped
near the mission. The character of the forest growth here changes, and we
found ourselves, with pleasure, again among oaks and other forest-trees of
the east, to which we had long been strangers; and the hospitable and kind
reception with which we were welcomed among our country people at the
mission, aided the momentary illusion of home.

Two good-looking wooden dwelling-houses, and a large schoolhouse, with
stables, barn, and garden, and large cleared fields between the houses and
the river bank, on which were scattered the wooden huts of an Indian
village, gave to the valley the cheerful and busy air of civilization, and
had in our eyes an appearance of abundant and enviable comfort.

Our land journey found here its western termination. The delay involved in
getting our camp to the right bank of the Columbia, and in opening a road
through the continuous forest to Vancouver, rendered a journey along the
river impracticable; and on this side the usual road across the mountain
required strong and fresh animals, there being an interval of three days
in which they could obtain no food. I therefore wrote immediately to Mr.
Fitzpatrick, directing him to abandon the carts at the Walahwalah
missionary station, and, as soon as the necessary pack-saddles could be
made, which his party required, meet me at the Dalles, from which point I
proposed to commence our homeward journey. The day after our arrival being
Sunday, no business could be done at the mission; but on Monday, Mr.
Perkins assisted me in procuring from the Indians a large canoe, in which
I designed to complete our journey to Vancouver, where I expected to
obtain the necessary supply of provisions and stores for our winter
journey. Three Indians, from the family to whom the canoe belonged, were
engaged to assist in working her during the voyage, and, with them, our
water party consisted of Mr. Preuss and myself, with Bernier and Jacob
Dodson. In charge of the party which was to remain at the Dalles I left
Carson, with instructions to occupy the people in making pack-saddles and
refitting their equipage. The village from which we were to take the canoe
was on the right bank of the river, about ten miles below, at the mouth of
the Tinanens creek: and while Mr. Preuss proceeded down the river with the
instruments, in a little canoe paddled by two Indians, Mr. Perkins
accompanied me with the remainder of the party by land. The last of the
emigrants had just left the Dalles at the time of our arrival, traveling
some by water and others by land, making ark-like rafts, on which they had
embarked their families and households, with their large wagons and other
furniture, while their stock were driven along the shore.

For about five miles below the Dalles, the river is narrow, and probably
very deep; but during this distance it is somewhat open, with grassy
bottoms on the left. Entering, then, among the lower mountains of the
Cascade range, it assumes a general character, and high and steep rocky
hills shut it in on either side, rising abruptly in places, to the height
of fifteen hundred feet above the water, and gradually acquiring a more
mountainous character as the river approaches the Cascades.

After an hour's travel, when the sun was nearly down, we searched along
the shore for a pleasant place, and halted to prepare supper. We had been
well supplied by our friends at the mission with delicious salted salmon,
which had been taken at the fattest season; also, with potatoes, bread,
coffee, and sugar. We were delighted at a change in our mode of traveling
and living. The canoe sailed smoothly down the river; at night we encamped
upon the shore, and a plentiful supply of comfortable provisions supplied
the first of wants. We enjoyed the contrast which it presented to our late
toilsome marchings, our night watchings, and our frequent privation of
food. We were a motley group, but all happy: three unknown Indians; Jacob,
a colored man; Mr. Preuss, a German; Bernier, creole French; and myself.

Being now upon the ground explored by the South Sea expedition under
Captain Wilkes, and having accomplished the object of uniting my survey
with his, and thus presenting a connected exploration from the Mississippi
to the Pacific, and the winter being at hand, I deemed it necessary to
economize time by voyaging in the night, as is customary here, to avoid
the high winds, which rise with the morning, and decline with the day.

Accordingly, after an hour's halt, we again embarked, and resumed our
pleasant voyage down the river. The wind rose to a gale after several
hours; but the moon was very bright, and the wind was fair, and the canoe
glanced rapidly down the stream, the waves breaking into foam alongside;
and our night voyage, as the wind bore us rapidly along between the dark
mountains, was wild and interesting. About midnight we put to the shore on
a rocky beach, behind which was a dark looking pine forest. We built up
large fires among the rocks, which were in large masses round about; and,
arranging our blankets on the most sheltered places we could find, passed
a delightful night.

After an early breakfast, at daylight we resumed our journey, the weather
being clear and beautiful, and the river smooth and still. On either side
the mountains are all pine-timbered, rocky, and high. We were now
approaching one of the marked features of the lower Columbia where the
river forms a great _cascade_, with a series of rapids, in breaking
through the range of mountains to which the lofty peaks of Mount Hood and
St. Helens belong, and which rise as great pillars of snow on either side
of the passage. The main branch of the _Sacramento_ river, and the
_Tlamath_, issue in cascades from this range; and the Columbia,
breaking through it in a succession of cascades, gives the idea of
cascades to the whole range; and hence the name of CASCADE RANGE, which it
bears, and distinguishes it from the Coast Range lower down. In making a
short turn to the south, the river forms the cascades in breaking over a
point of agglomerated masses of rock, leaving a handsome bay to the right,
with several rocky, pine-covered islands, and the mountains sweep at a
distance around a cove where several small streams enter the bay. In less
than an hour we halted on the left bank, about five minutes' walk above
the cascades, where there were several Indian huts, and where our guides
signified it was customary to hire Indians to assist in making the
_portage_. When traveling with a boat as light as a canoe, which may
easily be carried on the shoulders of the Indians, this is much the better
side of the river for the portage, as the ground here is very good and
level, being a handsome bottom, which I remarked was covered (_as was
now always the case along the river_) with a growth of green and fresh-
looking grass. It was long before we could come to an understanding with
the Indians; but to length, when they had first received the price of
their assistance in goods, they went vigorously to work; and, in a shorter
time than had been occupied in making our arrangements, the canoe,
instruments, and baggage, were carried through (a distance of about half a
mile) to the bank below the main cascade, where we again embarked, the
water being white with foam among ugly rocks, and boiling into a thousand
whirlpools. The boat passed with great rapidity, crossing and recrossing
in the eddies of the current. After passing through about two miles of
broken water, we ran some wild-looking rapids, which are called the Lower
Rapids, being the last on the river, which below is tranquil and smooth--a
broad, magnificent stream. On a low broad point on the right bank of the
river, at the lower end of these rapids, were pitched many tents of the
emigrants, who were waiting here for their friends from above, or for
boats and provisions which were expected from Vancouver. In our passage
down the rapids, I had noticed their camps along the shore, or
transporting their goods across the portage. This portage makes a head of
navigation, ascending the river. It is about two miles in length; and
above, to the Dalles, is 45 miles of smooth and good navigation.

We glided on without further interruption between very rocky and high
steep mountains, which sweep along the river valley at a little distance,
covered with forests of pine, and showing occasionally lofty escarpments
of red rock. Nearer, the shore is bordered by steep escarped hills end
huge vertical rocks, from which the waters of the mountain reach the river
in a variety of beautiful falls, sometimes several hundred feet in height.
Occasionally along the river occurred pretty bottoms, covered with the
greenest verdure of the spring. To a professional farmer, however, it does
not offer many places of sufficient extent to be valuable for agriculture;
and after passing a few miles below the Dalles, I had scarcely seen a
place on the south shore where wagons could get to the river. The beauty
of the scenery was heightened by the continuance of very delightful
weather, resembling the Indian summer of the Atlantic. A few miles below
the cascades we passed a singular isolated hill; and in the course of the
next six miles occurred five very pretty falls from the heights on the
left bank, one of them being of a very picturesque character; and towards
sunset we reached a remarkable point of rocks, distinguished, on account
of prevailing high winds, and the delay it frequently occasions to the
canoe navigation, by the name of _Cape Horn_. It borders the river in
a high wall of rock, which comes boldly down into deep water; and in
violent gales down the river, and from the opposite shore, which is the
prevailing direction of strong winds, the water is dashed against it with
considerable violence. It appears to form a serious obstacle to canoe
traveling; and I was informed by Mr. Perkins, that in a voyage up the
river he had been detained two weeks at this place, and was finally
obliged to return to Vancouver.

The winds of this region deserve a particular study. They blow in
currents, which show them to be governed by fixed laws; and it is a
problem how far they may come from the mountains, or from the ocean
through the breaks in the mountains which let out the river.

The hills here had lost something of their rocky appearance, and had
already begun to decline. As the sun went down, we searched along the
river for an inviting spot; and, finding a clean rocky beach, where some
large dry trees were lying on the ground, we ran our boat to the shore;
and, after another comfortable supper, ploughed our way along the river in
darkness. Heavy clouds covered the sky this evening, and the wind began to
sweep in gusts among the trees, as if bad weather were coming. As we
advanced, the hills on both sides grew constantly lower; on the right,
retreating from the shore, and forming a somewhat extensive bottom of
intermingled prairie and wooded land. In the course of a few hours, and
opposite to a small stream corning in from the north, called the
_Tea Prairie_ river, the highlands on the left declined to
the plains, and three or four miles more disappeared entirely on both
sides, and the river entered the low country. The river had gradually
expanded; and when we emerged from the highlands, the opposite shores were
so distant as to appear indistinct in the uncertainty of the light. About
ten o'clock our pilots halted, apparently to confer about the course; and,
after a little hesitation, pulled directly across an open expansion of the
river, where the waves were somewhat rough for a canoe, the wind blowing
very fresh. Much to our surprise, a few minutes afterwards we ran aground.
Backing off our boat, we made repeated trials at various places to cross
what appeared to be a point of shifting sand-bars, where we had attempted
to shorten the way by a cut-off. Finally, one of our Indians got into the
water, and waded about until he found a channel sufficiently deep, through
which we wound along after him, and in a few minutes again entered the
deep water below. As we paddled rapidly down the river, we heard the noise
of a saw-mill at work on the right bank; and, letting our boat float
quietly down, we listened with pleasure to the unusual sounds, and before
midnight, encamped on the bank of the river, about a mile above Fort
Vancouver. Our fine dry weather had given place to a dark cloudy night. At
midnight it began to rain; and we found ourselves suddenly in the gloomy
and humid season, which, in the narrow region lying between the Pacific
and the Cascade mountains, and for a considerable distance along the
coast, supplies the place of winter.

In the morning, the first object that attracted my attention was the
barque Columbia, lying at anchor near the landing. She was about to start
on a voyage to England, and was now ready for sea; being detained only in
waiting the arrival of the express bateaux, which descend the Columbia and
its north fork with the overland mail from Canada and Hudson's Bay, which
had been delayed beyond the usual time. I immediately waited upon Dr.
McLaughlin, the executive officer of the Hudson Bay Company, in the
territory west of the Rocky mountains, who received me with the courtesy
and hospitality for which he has been eminently distinguished, and which
makes a forcible and delightful impression on a traveler from the long
wilderness from which we had issued. I was immediately supplied by him
with the necessary stores and provisions to refit and support my party in
our contemplated winter journey to the States; and also with a Mackinaw
boat and canoes, manned with Canadian and Iroquois voyageurs and Indians,
for their transportation to the Dalles of the Columbia. In addition to
this efficient kindness in furnishing me with these necessary supplies, I
received from him a warm and gratifying sympathy in the suffering which
his great experience led him to anticipate for us in our homeward journey,
and a letter of recommendation and credit for any officers of the Hudson
Bay Company into whose posts we might be driven by unexpected misfortune.

Of course, the future supplies for my party were paid for, bills on the
Government of the United States being readily taken; but every hospitable
attention was extended to me, and I accepted an invitation to take a room
in the fort, "_and to make myself at home while I stayed_."

I found many American emigrants at the fort; others had already crossed
the river into their land of promise--the Walahmette valley. Others were
daily arriving; and all of them have been furnished with shelter, so far
as it could be afforded by the buildings connected with the establishment.
Necessary clothing and provisions (the latter to be returned in kind from
the produce of their labor) were also furnished. This friendly assistance
was of very great value to the emigrants, whose families were otherwise
exposed to much suffering in the winter rains, which had now commenced; at
the same time they were in want of all the common necessaries of life.
Those who had taken a water conveyance at the Nez Perce fort continued to
arrive safely, with no other accident than has been already mentioned. The
party which had crossed over the Cascade mountains were reported to have
lost a number of their animals; and those who had driven their stock down
the Columbia had brought them safely in, and found for them a ready and
very profitable market, and were already proposing to return to the States
in the spring for another supply. In the space of two days our
preparations had been completed, and we were ready to set out on our
return. It would have been very gratifying to have gone down to the
Pacific, and, solely in the interest and love of geography, to have seen
the ocean on the western as well as on the eastern side of the continent,
so as to give a satisfactory completeness to the geographical picture
which had been formed in our minds; but the rainy season had now regularly
set in, and the air was filled with fogs and rain, which left no beauty in
any scenery, and obstructed observations. The object of my instructions
had been entirely fulfilled in having connected our reconnoissance with
the surveys of Captain Wilkes; and although it would have been agreeable
and satisfactory to terminate here also our ruder astronomical
observations, I was not, for such a reason, justified to make a delay in
waiting for favorable weather.

Near sunset of the 10th, the boats left the fort, and encamped after
making only a few miles. Our flotilla consisted of a Mackinaw barge and
three canoes--one of them that in which we had descended the river; and a
party in all of twenty men. One of the emigrants, Mr. Burnet, of Missouri,
who had left his family and property at the Dalles, availed himself of the
opportunity afforded by the return of our boats to bring them down to
Vancouver. This gentleman, as well as the Messrs. Applegate, and others of
the emigrants whom I saw, possessed intelligence and character, with the
moral and intellectual stamina, as well as the enterprise, which give
solidity and respectability to the foundation of colonies.

11th.--The morning was rainy and misty. We did not move with the practised
celerity of my own camp; and it was nearly nine o'clock when our motley
crew had finished their breakfast and were ready to start. Once afloat,
however, they worked steadily and well, and we advanced at a good rate up
the river; and in the afternoon a breeze sprung up, which enabled us to
add a sail to the oars. At evening we encamped on a warm-looking beach, on
the right bank, at the foot of the high river-hill, immediately at the
lower end of Cape Horn. On the opposite shore is said to be a singular
hole in the mountain, from which the Indians believe comes the wind
producing these gales. It is called the Devil's hole; and the Indians, I
was told, had been resolving to send down one of their slaves to explore
the region below. At dark, the wind shifted into its stormy quarter,
gradually increasing to a gale from the southwest; and the sky becoming
clear, I obtained a good observation of an emersion of the first
satellite; the result of which being an absolute observation, I have
adopted for the longitude of the place.

12th.--The wind during the night had increased to so much violence that
the broad river this morning was angry and white; the waves breaking with
considerable force against this rocky wall of the cape. Our old Iroquois
pilot was unwilling to risk the boats around the point, and I was not
disposed to hazard the stores of our voyage for the delay of a day.
Further observations were obtained during the day, giving for the latitude
of the place 45 deg. 33' 09"; and the longitude obtained from the satellite is
122 deg. 6' 15".

13th.--We had a day of disagreeable and cold rain and, late in the
afternoon, began to approach the rapids of the cascades. There is here a
high timbered island on the left shore, below which, in descending, I had
remarked, in a bluff of the river, the extremities of trunks of trees,
appearing to be imbedded in the rock. Landing here this afternoon, I
found, in the lower part of the escarpment, a stratum of coal and forest-
trees, imbedded between strata of altered clay, containing the remains of
vegetables, the leaves of which indicate that the plants wore
dicotyledonous. Among these, the stems of some of the ferns are not
mineralized, but merely charred, retaining still their vegetable structure
and substance; and in this condition a portion of the trees remain. The
indurated appearance and compactness of the strata, as well, perhaps, as
the mineralized condition of the coal, are probably due to igneous action.
Some portions of the coal precisely resemble in aspect the canal coal of
England, and, with the accompanying fossils, have been referred to the
tertiary formation.

These strata appear to rest upon a mass of agglomerated rock, being but a
few feet above the water of the river; and over them is the escarpment of
perhaps 80 feet, rising gradually in the rear towards the mountains. The
wet and cold evening, and near approach of night, prevented me from making
any other than a slight examination.

The current was now very swift, and we were obliged to _cordelle_ the
boat along the left shore, where the bank was covered with large masses of
rocks. Night overtook us at the upper end of the island, a short distance
below the cascades, and we halted on the open point. In the mean time, the
lighter canoes, paddled altogether by Indians, had passed ahead, and were
out of sight. With them was the lodge, which was the only shelter we had,
with most of the bedding and provisions. We shouted, and fired guns; but
all to no purpose, as it was impossible for them to hear above the roar of
the river; and we remained all night without shelter, the rain pouring
down all the time. The old voyageurs did not appear to mind it much, but
covered themselves up as well as they could, and lay down on the sand-
beach, where they remained quiet until morning. The rest of us spent a
rather miserable night; and, to add to our discomfort, the incessant rain
extinguished our fires; and we were glad when at last daylight appeared,
and we again embarked.

Crossing to the right bank, we _cordelled_ the boat along the shore,
there being no longer any use of the paddles, and put into a little bay
below the upper rapids. Here we found a lodge pitched, and about 20
Indians sitting around a blazing fire within, making a luxurious breakfast
with salmon, bread, butter, sugar, coffee, and other provisions. In the
forest, on the edge of the high bluff overlooking the river, is an Indian
graveyard, consisting of a collection of tombs, in each of which were the
scattered bones of many skeletons. The tombs were made of boards, which
were ornamented with many figures of men and animals of the natural size--
from their appearance, constituting the armorial device by which, among
Indians, the chiefs are usually known.

The masses of rock displayed along the shores of the ravine in the
neighborhood of the cascades, are clearly volcanic products. Between this
cove, which I called Graveyard bay, and another spot of smooth water
above, on the right, called Luders bay, sheltered by a jutting point of
huge rocky masses at the foot of the cascades, the shore along the
intervening rapids is lined with precipices of distinct strata of red and
variously-colored lavas, in inclined positions.

The masses of rock forming the point at Luders bay consist of a porous
trap, or basalt--a volcanic product of a modern period. The rocks belong
to agglomerated masses, which form the immediate ground of the cascades,
and have been already mentioned as constituting a bed of cemented
conglomerate rocks, appearing at various places along the river. Here they
are scattered along the shores, and through the bed of the river, wearing
the character of convulsion, which forms the impressive and prominent
feature of the river at this place.

Wherever we came in contact with the rocks of these mountains, we found
them volcanic, which is probably the character of the range; and at this
time, two of the great snowy cones, Mount Regnier and St. Helens, were in
action. On the 23d of the preceding November, St. Helens had scattered its
ashes, like a white fall of snow, over the Dalles of the Columbia, 50
miles distant. A specimen of these ashes was given to me by Mr. Brewer,
one of the clergymen at the Dalles.

The lofty range of the Cascade mountains forms a distinct boundary between
the opposite climates of the regions along its western and eastern bases.
On the west, they present a barrier to the clouds of fog and rain which
roll up from the Pacific ocean and beat against their rugged sides,
forming the rainy season of the winter in the country along the coast.
Into the brighter skies of the region along their eastern base, this rainy
winter never penetrates; and at the Dalles of the Columbia the rainy
season is unknown, the brief winter being limited to a period of about two
months, during which the earth is covered with the slight snows of a
climate remarkably mild for so high a latitude. The Cascade range has an
average distance of about 130 miles from the sea-coast. It extends far
both north and south of the Columbia, and is indicated to the distant
observer, both in course and position, by the lofty volcanic peaks which
rise out of it, and which are visible to an immense distance.

During several days of constant rain, it kept our whole force laboriously
employed in getting our barge and canoes to the upper end of the Cascades.
The portage ground was occupied by emigrant families; their thin and
insufficient clothing, bareheaded and barefooted children, attesting the
length of their journey, and showing that they had, in many instances, set
out without a due preparation of what was indispensable.

A gentleman named Luders, a botanist from the city of Hamburg, arrived at
the bay I have called by his name while we were occupied in bringing up
the boats. I was delighted to meet at such a place a man of kindred
pursuits; but we had only the pleasure of a brief conversation, as his
canoe, under the guidance of two Indians, was about to run the rapids; and
I could not enjoy the satisfaction of regaling him with a breakfast,
which, after his recent journey, would have been an extraordinary luxury.
All of his few instruments and baggage were in the canoe, and he hurried
around by land to meet it at the Graveyard bay; but he was scarcely out of
sight, when, by the carelessness of the Indians, the boat was drawn into
the midst of the rapids, and glanced down the river, bottom up, with a
loss of every thing it contained. In the natural concern I felt for his
misfortune, I gave to the little cove the name of Luders bay.

15th.--We continued to-day our work at the portage.

About noon, the two barges of the express from Montreal arrived at the
upper portage landing, which, for large boats, is on the right bank of the
river. They were a fine-looking crew, and among them I remarked a fresh-
looking woman and her daughter, emigrants from Canada. It was satisfactory
to see the order and speed with which these experienced water-men effected
the portage, and passed their boats over the cascades. They had arrived at
noon, and in the evening they expected to reach Vancouver. These bateaux
carry the express of the Hudson Bay Company to the highest navigable point
of the North Fork of the Columbia, whence it is carried by an overland
party to Lake Winipec, where it is divided; part going to Montreal, and
part to Hudson Bay. Thus a regular communication is kept up between three
very remote points.

The Canadian emigrants were much chagrined at the change of climate, and
informed me that, only a few miles above, they had left a country of
bright blue sky and a shining sun. The next morning the upper parts of the
mountains which directly overlook the cascades, were white with the
freshly fallen snow, while it continued to rain steadily below.

Late in the afternoon we finished the portage, and, embarking again, moved
a little distance up the right bank, in order to clear the smaller rapids
of the cascades, and have a smooth river for the next morning. Though we
made but a few miles, the weather improved immediately; and though the
rainy country and the cloudy mountains were close behind, before us was
the bright sky; so distinctly is climate here marked by a mountain
boundary.

17th.--We had to-day an opportunity to complete the sketch of that portion
of the river down which we had come by night.

Many places occur along the river, where the stumps, or rather portions of
the trunks of pine-trees, are standing along the shore, and in the water,
where they may be seen at a considerable depth below the surface, in the
beautifully clear water. These collections of dead trees are called on the
Columbia the _submerged forest_, and are supposed to have been
created by the effects of some convulsion which formed the cascades, and
which, by damming up the river, placed these trees under water and
destroyed them. But I venture to presume that the cascades are older than
the trees; and as these submerged forests occur at five or six places
along the river, I had an opportunity to satisfy myself that they have
been formed by immense landslides from the mountains, which here closely
shut in the river, and which brought down with them into the river the
pines of the mountain. At one place, on the right bank, I remarked a place
where a portion of one of these slides seemed to have planted itself, with
all the evergreen foliage, and the vegetation of the neighboring hill,
directly amidst the falling and yellow leaves of the river trees. It
occurred to me that this would have been a beautiful illustration to the
eye of a botanist.

Following the course of a slide, which was very plainly marked along the
mountain, I found that in the interior parts the trees were in their usual
erect position; but at the extremity of the slide they were rocked about,
and thrown into a confusion of inclinations.

About 4 o'clock in the afternoon we passed a sandy bar in the river,
whence we had an unexpected view of Mount Hood, bearing directly south by
compass.

During the day we used oar and sail, and at night had again a delightful
camping ground, and a dry place to sleep upon.

18th.--The day again was pleasant and bright. At 10 o'clock we passed a
rock island, on the right shore of the river, which the Indians use as a
burial ground; and halting for a short time, about an hour afterwards, at
the village of our Indian friends, early in the afternoon we arrived again
at the Dalles.

Carson had removed the camp up the river a little nearer to the hills,
where the animals had better grass. We found every thing in good order,
and arrived just in time to partake of an excellent roast of California
beef. My friend, Mr. Gilpin, had arrived in advance of the party. His
object in visiting this country had been to obtain correct information of
the Walahmette settlements; and he had reached this point in his journey,
highly pleased with the country over which he had traveled, and with
invigorated health. On the following day he continued his journey, in our
returning boats, to Vancouver.

The camp was now occupied in making the necessary preparations for our
homeward journey, which, though homeward, contemplated a new route, and a
great circuit to the south and southeast, and the exploration of the Great
Basin between the Rocky mountains and the _Sierra Nevada_. Three
principal objects were indicated, by report or by maps, as being on this
route; the character or existence of which I wished to ascertain and which
I assumed as landmarks, or leading points, on their projected line of
return. The first of those points was the _Tlamath_ lake, on the
table-land between the head of Fall river, which comes to the Columbia,
and the Sacramento, which goes to the Bay of San Francisco; and from which
lake a river of the same name makes its way westwardly direct to the
ocean. This lake and river are often called _Klamet_, but I have
chosen to write its name according to the Indian pronunciation. The
position of this lake, on the line of inland communication between Oregon
and California; its proximity to the demarcation boundary of latitude 42 deg.;
its imputed double character of lake, or meadow, according to the season
of the year; and the hostile and warlike character attributed to the
Indians about it--all made it a desirable object to visit and examine.
From this lake our course was intended to be about southeast, to a
reported lake called Mary's, at some days' journey in the Great Basin; and
thence, still on southeast, to the reputed _Buenaventura_ river,
which has had a place in so many maps, and countenanced the belief of the
existence of a great river flowing from the Rocky mountains to the Bay of
San Francisco. From the Buenaventura the next point was intended to be in
that section of the Rocky mountains which includes the heads of Arkansas
river, and of the opposite waters of the Californian gulf; and thence down
the Arkansas to Bent's fort, and home. This was our projected line of
return--a great part of it absolutely new to geographical, botanical, and
geological science--and the subject of reports in relation to lakes,
rivers, deserts, and savages hardly above the condition of mere wild
animals, which inflamed desire to know what this _terra incognita_
really contained.

It was a serious enterprise, at the commencement of winter, to undertake
the traverse of such a region, and with a party consisting only of twenty-
five persons, and they of many nations--American, French, German,
Canadian, Indian, and colored--and most of those young, several being
under twenty-one years of age. All knew that a strange country was to be
explored, and dangers and hardships to be encountered; but no one blenched
at the prospect. On the contrary, courage and confidence animated the
whole party. Cheerfulness, readiness, subordination, prompt obedience,
characterized all; nor did any extremity of peril and privation, to which
we were afterwards exposed, ever belie, or derogate from, the fine spirit
of this brave and generous commencement. The course of the narrative will
show at what point, and for what reasons, we were prevented from the
complete execution of this plan, after having made considerable progress
upon it, and how we were forced by desert plains and mountain ranges, and
deep snows, far to the south, and near to the Pacific ocean, and along the
western base of the Sierra Nevada, where, indeed, a new and ample field of
exploration opened itself before us. For the present, we must follow the
narrative, which will first lead us south along the valley of Fall river,
and the eastern base of the Cascade range, to the Tlamath lake, from
which, or its margin, three rivers go in three directions--one west, to
the ocean; another north, to the Columbia; the third south, to California.

For the support of the party, I had provided at Vancouver a supply of
provisions for not less than three months, consisting principally of
flour, peas, and tallow--the latter being used in cooking; and, in
addition to this, I had purchased at the mission some California cattle,
which were to be driven on the hoof. We had 104 mules and horses--part of
the latter procured from the Indians about the mission; and for the
sustenance of which, our reliance was upon the grass which we should find,
and the soft porous wood which was to be substituted when there was none.

Mr. Fitzpatrick, with Mr. Talbot and the remainder of the party, arrived
on the 21st; and the camp was now closely engaged in the labor of
preparation. Mr. Perkins succeeded in obtaining as a guide to the Tlamath
lake two Indians--one of whom had been there, and bore the marks of
several wounds he had received from some of the Indians in the
neighborhood; and the other went along for company. In order to enable us
to obtain horses, he dispatched messengers to the various Indian villages
in the neighborhood, informing them that we were desirous to purchase, and
appointing a day for them to bring them in.

We made, in the mean time, several excursions in the vicinity. Mr. Perkins
walked with Mr. Preuss and myself to the heights, about nine miles
distant, on the opposite side of the river, whence, in fine weather, an
extensive view may be had over the mountains, including seven great peaks
of the Cascade range; but clouds, on this occasion, destroyed the
anticipated pleasure, and we obtained bearings only to three that were
visible--Mount Regnier, St. Helens, and Mount Hood. On the heights, about
one mile south of the mission, a very fine view may be had of Mount Hood
and St. Helens. In order to determine their position with as much accuracy
as possible, the angular distances of the peaks were measured with the
sextant, at different fixed points from which they could be seen.

The Indians brought in their horses at the appointed time, and we
succeeded in obtaining a number in exchange for goods; but they were
relatively much higher here, where goods are plenty and at moderate
prices, than we had found them in the more eastern part of our voyage.
Several of the Indians inquired very anxiously to know if we had any
_dollars_; and the horses we procured were much fewer in number than
I had desired, and of thin, inferior quality; the oldest and poorest being
those that were sold to us. These horses, as ever in our journey you will
have occasion to remark, are valuable for hardihood and great endurance.

24th.--At this place one of the men was discharged; and at the request of
Mr. Perkins, a Chinook Indian, a lad of nineteen, who was extremely
desirous to "see the whites," and make some acquaintance with our
institutions, was received into the party under my special charge, with
the understanding that I would again return him to his friends. He had
lived for some time in the household of Mr. Perkins, and spoke a few words
of the English language.

25th.--We were all up early, in the excitement of turning towards home.
The stars were brilliant, and the morning cold, the thermometer at
daylight 26 deg..

Our preparations had been fully completed, and to-day we commenced our
journey. The little wagon which had hitherto carried the instruments, I
judged it necessary to abandon; and it was accordingly presented to the
mission. In all our long traveling, it had never been overturned or
injured by any accident of the road; and the only things broken were the
glass lamps, and one of the front panels, which had been kicked out by an
unruly Indian horse. The howitzer was the only wheeled carriage now
remaining. We started about noon, when the weather had become disagreeably
cold, with flurries of snow. Our friend Mr. Perkins, whose kindness had
been active and efficient during our stay, accompanied us several miles on
our road, when he bade us farewell, and consigned us to the care of our
guides. Ascending to the uplands beyond the southern fork of the
_Tinanens_ creek, we found the snow lying on the ground in frequent
patches, although the pasture appeared good, and the new short grass was
fresh and green. We traveled over high, hilly land, and encamped on a
little branch of Tinanens creek, where there were good grass and timber.
The southern bank was covered with snow, which was scattered over the
bottom; and the little creek, its borders lined with ice, had a chilly and
wintry look. A number of Indians had accompanied us so far on our road,
and remained with us during the night. Two bad-looking fellows, who were
detected in stealing, were tied and laid before the fire, and guard
mounted over them during the night. The night was cold, and partially
clear.

26th.--The morning was cloudy and misty, and but a few stars visible.
During the night water froze in the tents, and at sunrise the thermometer
was at 20 deg.. Left camp at 10 o'clock, the road leading along tributaries of
the Tinanens, and being, so far, very good. We turned to the right at the
fork of the trail, ascending by a steep ascent along a spur to the
dividing grounds between this stream and the waters of Fall river. The
creeks we had passed were timbered principally with oak and other
deciduous trees. Snow lies everywhere here on the ground, and we had a
slight fall during the morning; but towards noon the bright sky yielded to
a bright sun.

This morning we had a grand view of St. Helens and Regnier: the latter
appeared of a conical form, and very lofty, leading the eye far up into
the sky. The line of the timbered country is very distinctly marked here,
the bare hills making with it a remarkable contrast. The summit of the
ridge commanded a fine view of the Taih prairie, and the stream running
through it, which is a tributary to the Fall river, the chasm of which is
visible to the right. A steep descent of a mountain hill brought us down
into the valley, and we encamped on the stream after dark, guided by the
light of fires, which some naked Indians, belonging to a village on the
opposite side, were kindling for us on the bank. This is a large branch of
the Fall river. There was a broad band of thick ice some fifteen feet wide
on either bank, and the river current is swift and bold. The night was
cold and clear, and we made our astronomical observation this evening with
the thermometer at 20 deg..

In anticipation of coming hardship, and to spare our horses, there was
much walking done to-day; and Mr. Fitzpatrick and myself made the day's
journey on foot. Somewhere near the mouth of this stream are the falls
from which the river takes its name.

27th.--A fine view of Mount Hood this morning; a rose-colored mass of
snow, bearing S. 85 deg. W. by compass. The sky is clear, and the air cold;
the thermometer 2.5 deg. below zero, the trees and bushes glittering white,
and the rapid stream filled with floating ice.

_Stiletsi_ and _the White Crane_, two Indian chiefs who had
accompanied us thus far, took their leave, and we resumed our journey at
10 o'clock. We ascended by a steep hill from the river bottom, which is
sandy, to a volcanic plain, around which lofty hills sweep in a regular
form. It is cut up by gullies of basaltic rock, escarpments of which
appear everywhere in the hills. This plain is called the Taih prairie, and
is sprinkled with some scattered pines. The country is now far more
interesting to a traveler than the route along the Snake and Columbia
rivers. To our right we had always the mountains, from the midst of whose
dark pine forests the isolated snowy peaks were looking out like giants.
They served us for grand beacons to show the rate at which we advanced in
our journey. Mount Hood was already becoming an old acquaintance, and,
when we ascended the prairie, we obtained a bearing to Mount Jefferson, S.
23 deg. W. The Indian superstition has peopled these lofty peaks with evil
spirits, and they have never yet known the tread of a human foot. Sternly
drawn against the sky, they look so high and steep, so snowy and rocky,
that it appears almost impossible to climb them; but still a trial would
have its attractions for the adventurous traveler. A small trail takes off
through the prairie, towards a low point in the range, and perhaps there
is here a pass into the Wahlamette valley. Crossing the plain, we
descended by a rocky hill into the bed of a tributary of Fall river, and
made an early encampment. The water was in holes, and frozen over; and we
were obliged to cut through the ice for the animals to drink. An ox, which
was rather troublesome to drive, was killed here for food.

The evening was fine, the sky being very clear, and I obtained an
immersion of the third satellite, with a good observation of an emersion
of the first; the latter of which gives for the longitude, 121 deg. 02' 43";
the latitude, by observation, being 45 deg. 06' 45". The night was cold--the
thermometer during the observations standing at 9 deg..

28th.--The sky was clear in the morning, but suddenly clouded over, and at
sunrise it began to snow, with the thermometer at 18 deg..

We traversed a broken high country, partly timbered with pine, and about
noon crossed a mountainous ridge, in which, from the rock occasionally
displayed, the formation consists of compact lava. Frequent tracks of elk
were visible in the snow. On our right, in the afternoon, a high plain,
partially covered with pine, extended about ten miles, to the foot of the
Cascade mountains.

At evening we encamped in a basin narrowly surrounded by rocky hills,
after a day's journey of twenty-one miles. The surrounding rocks are
either volcanic products, or highly altered by volcanic action, consisting
of quartz and reddish-colored silicious masses.

29th.--We emerged from the basin, by a narrow pass, upon a considerable
branch of Fall river, running to the eastward through a narrow valley. The
trail, descending this stream, brought us to a locality of hot springs,
which were on either bank. Those on the left, which were formed into deep
handsome basins, would have been delightful baths, if the outer air had
not been so keen, the thermometer in these being at 89 deg.. There were others
on the opposite side, at the foot of an escarpment, in which the
temperature of the water was 134 deg.. These waters deposited around the
spring a brecciated mass of quartz and feldspar, much of it of a reddish
color.

We crossed the stream here, and ascended again to a high plain, from an
elevated point of which we obtained a view of six of the great peaks--
Mount Jefferson, followed to the southward by two others of the same
class; and succeeding, at a still greater distance to the southward, were
three other lower peaks, clustering together in a branch ridge. These,
like the great peaks, were snowy masses, secondary only to them; and, from
the best examination our time permitted, we are inclined to believe that
the range to which they belong is a branch from the great chain which here
bears to the westward. The trail, during the remainder of the day,
followed near to the large stream on the left, which was continuously
walled in between high rocky banks. We halted for the night on a little
by-stream.

30th.--Our journey to-day was short. Passing over a high plain, on which
were scattered cedars, with frequent beds of volcanic rock in fragments
interspersed among the grassy grounds, we arrived suddenly on the verge of
the steep and rocky descent to the valley of the stream we had been
following, and which here ran directly across our path, emerging from the
mountains on the right. You will remark that the country is abundantly
watered with large streams, which pour down from the neighboring range.

These streams are characterized by the narrow and chasm-like valleys in
which they run, generally sunk a thousand feet below the plain. At the
verge of this plain, they frequently commence in vertical precipices of
basaltic rock, and which leave only casual places at which they can be
entered by horses. The road across the country, which would otherwise be
very good, is rendered impracticable for wagons by these streams. There is
another trail among the mountains, usually followed in the summer, which
the snows now compelled us to avoid; and I have reason to believe that
this, passing nearer the heads of these streams, would afford a much
better road.

At such places, the gun-carriage was unlimbered, and separately descended
by hand. Continuing a few miles up the left bank of the river, we encamped
early in an open bottom among the pines, a short distance below a lodge of
Indians. Here, along the river the bluffs present escarpments seven or
eight hundred feet in height, containing strata of a very fine porcelain
clay, overlaid, at the height of about five hundred feet, by a massive
stratum of compact basalt one hundred feet in thickness, which again is
succeeded above by other strata of volcanic rocks. The clay strata are
variously colored, some of them very nearly as white as chalk, and very
fine-grained. Specimens brought from these have been subjected to
microscopical examination by Professor Bailey, of West Point, and are
considered by him to constitute one of the most remarkable deposites of
fluviatile infusoria on record. While they abound in genera and species
which are common in fresh water, but which rarely thrive where the water
is even brackish, not one decidedly marine form is to be found among them;
and their fresh-water origin is therefore beyond a doubt. It is equally
certain that they lived and died at the situation where they were found,
as they could scarcely have been transported by running waters without an
admixture of sandy particles; from which, however, they are remarkably
free. Fossil infusoria of a fresh-water origin had been previously
detected by Mr. Bailey, in specimens brought by Mr. James D. Dana from the
tertiary formation of Oregon. Most of the species in those specimens
differed so much from those now living and known, that he was led to infer
that they might belong to extinct species, and considered them also as
affording proof of an alteration, in the formation from which they were
obtained, of fresh and salt-water deposites, which, common enough in
Europe, had not hitherto been noticed in the United States. Coming
evidently from a locality entirely different, our specimens show very few
species in common with those brought by Mr. Dana, but bear a much closer
resemblance to those inhabiting the northeastern states. It is possible
that they are from a more recent deposite; but the presence of a few
remarkable forms which are common to the two localities renders it more
probable that there is no great difference in their age.

I obtained here a good observation of an emersion of the second satellite;
but clouds, which rapidly overspread the sky, prevented the usual number
of observations. Those which we succeeded in obtaining, are, however,
good; and give for the latitude of the place 44 deg. 35' 23", and for the
longitude from the satellite 121 deg. 10' 25".



DECEMBER.


1st.--A short distance above our encampment, we crossed the river, which
was thickly lined along its banks with ice. In common with all these
mountain-streams the water was very clear and the current swift. It was
not everywhere fordable, and the water was three or four feet deep at our
crossing, and perhaps a hundred feet wide. As was frequently the case at
such places, one of the mules got his pack, consisting of sugar,
thoroughly wet, and turned into molasses. One of the guides informed me
that this was a "salmon-water," and pointed out several ingeniously-
contrived places to catch the fish; among the pines in the bottom I saw an
immense one, about twelve feet in diameter. A steep ascent from the
opposite bank delayed us again; and as, by the information of our guides,
grass would soon become very scarce, we encamped on the height of land, in
a marshy place among the pines, where there was an abundance of grass. We
found here a single Nez Perce family, who had a very handsome horse in
their drove, which we endeavored to obtain in exchange for a good cow; but
the man "had two hearts," or, rather, he had one and his wife had another:
she wanted the cow, but he loved the horse too much to part with it. These
people attach great value to cattle, with which they are endeavoring to
supply themselves.

2d.--In the first rays of the sun, the mountain peaks this morning
presented a beautiful appearance, the snow being entirely covered with a
hue of rosy gold. We traveled to-day over a very stony, elevated plain,
about which were scattered cedar and pine, and encamped on another branch
of Fall river. We were gradually ascending to a more elevated region,
which would have been indicated by the rapidly increasing quantities of
snow and ice, had we not known it by other means. A mule, which was packed
with our cooking-utensils, wandered off among the pines unperceived, and
several men were sent back to search for it.

3d.--Leaving Mr. Fitzpatrick with the party, I went ahead with the
howitzer and a few men, in order to gain time, as our progress with the
gun was necessarily slower. The country continued the same--very stony,
with cedar and pine; and we rode on until dark, when we encamped on a
hill-side covered with snow, which we used to-night for water, as we were
unable to reach any stream.

4th.--Our animals had taken the back track, although a great number were
hobbled; and we were consequently delayed until noon. Shortly after we had
left this encampment, the mountain trail from the Dalles joined that on
which we were traveling. After passing for several miles over an artemisia
plain, the trail entered a beautiful pine forest, through which we
traveled for several hours; and about 4 o'clock descended into the valley
of another large branch, on the bottom of which were spaces of open pines,
with occasional meadows of good grass, in one of which we encamped. The
stream is very swift and deep, and about 40 feet wide, and nearly half
frozen over. Among the timber here, are larches 140 feet high, and over
three feet in diameter. We had to-night the rare sight of a lunar rainbow.

5th.--To-day the country was all pine forest, and beautiful weather made
our journey delightful. It was too warm at noon for winter clothes; and
the snow, which lay everywhere in patches through the forest, was melting
rapidly. After a few hours' ride, we came upon a fine stream in the midst
of the forest, which proved to be the principal branch of the Fall river.
It was occasionally 200 feet wide--sometimes narrowed to 50 feet--the
waters very clear, and frequently deep. We ascended along the river, which
sometimes presented sheets of foaming cascades--its banks occasionally
blackened with masses of scoriated rock--and found a good encampment on
the verge of open bottom, which had been an old camping-ground of the
Cayuse Indians. A great number of deer-horns were lying about, indicating
game in the neighborhood. The timber was uniformly large, some of the
pines measuring 22 feet in circumference at the ground, and 12 to 13 feet
at six feet above.

In all our journeying, we had never traveled through a country where the
rivers were so abounding in falls; and the name of this stream is
singularly characteristic. At every place where we come in the
neighborhood of the river, is heard the roaring of falls. The rock along
the banks of the stream, and the ledge over which it falls, is a scoriated
basalt, with a bright metallic fracture. The stream goes over in one clear
pitch, succeeded by a foaming cataract of several hundred yards. In a
little bottom above the falls, a small stream discharges into an
_entonnoir_, and disappears below.

We made an early encampment, and in the course of the evening Mr.
Fitzpatrick joined us here with the lost mule. Our lodge-poles were nearly
worn out, and we found here a handsome set, leaning against one of the
trees, very white, and cleanly scraped. Had the owners been here, we would
have purchased them; but as they were not, we merely left the old ones in
their place, with a small quantity of tobacco.

6th.--The morning was frosty and clear. We continued up the stream on
undulating forest ground, over which there was scattered much falling
timber. We met here a village of Nez Perce Indians, who appeared to be
coming down from the mountains, and had with them fine bands of horses.
With them were a few Snake Indians of the root-digging species. From the
forest we emerged into an open valley ten or twelve miles wide, through
which the stream was flowing tranquilly, upwards of two hundred feet
broad, with occasional islands, and bordered with fine broad bottoms.
Crossing the river, which here issues from a great mountain ridge on the
right, we continued up the southern and smaller branch over a level
country, consisting of fine meadow-land, alternating with pine forests,
and encamped on it early in the evening. A warm sunshine made the day
pleasant.

7th.--To-day we had good traveling ground, the trail leading sometimes
over rather sandy soils in the pine forest, and sometimes over meadow-land
along the stream. The great beauty of the country in summer constantly
suggested itself to our imaginations; and even now we found it beautiful,
as we rode along these meadows, from half a mile to two miles wide. The
rich soil and excellent water, surrounded by noble forests, make a picture
that would delight the eye of a farmer.

I observed to-night an occultation of _a Geminorum_; which, although
at the bright limb of the moon, appears to give a very good result, that
has been adopted for the longitude. The occultation, observations of
satellites, and our position deduced from daily surveys with the compass,
agree remarkably well together, and mutually support and strengthen each
other. The latitude of the camp is 43 deg. 30' 36"; and longitude, deduced
from the occultation, 121 deg. 33' 50".

8th.--To-day we crossed the last branch of the Fall river, issuing, like
all the others we had crossed, in a southwesterly direction from the
mountains. Our direction was a little east of south, the trail leading
constantly through pine forests. The soil was generally bare, consisting,
in greater part, of a yellowish-white pumice-stone, producing varieties of
magnificent pines, but not a blade of grass; and to-night our horses were
obliged to do without food, and use snow for water. These pines are
remarkable for the red color of the bolls; and among them occurs a species
of which the Indians had informed me when leaving the Dalles. The unusual
size of the cone (16 or 18 inches long) had attracted their attention; and
they pointed it out to me among the curiosities of the country. They are
more remarkable for their large diameter than their height, which usually
averages only about 120 feet. The leaflets are short--only two or three
inches long, and five in a sheath; the bark of a red color.

9th.--The trail leads always through splendid pine forests. Crossing
dividing grounds by a very fine road, we descended very gently towards the
south. The weather was pleasant, and we halted late. The soil was very
much like that of yesterday; and on the surface of a hill near our
encampment, were displayed beds of pumice-stone; but the soil produced no
grass, and again the animals fared badly.

10th.--The country began to improve; and about eleven o'clock we reached a
spring of cold water on the edge of a savannah, or grassy meadow, which
our guides informed us was an arm of the Tlamath lake; and a few miles
further we entered upon an extensive meadow, or lake of grass, surrounded
by timbered mountains. This was the Tlamath lake. It was a picturesque and
beautiful spot, and rendered more attractive to us by the abundant and
excellent grass, which our animals, after traveling through pine forests,
so much needed; but the broad sheet of water which constitutes a lake was
not to be seen. Overlooking it, immediately west, were several snowy
knobs, belonging to what we have considered a branch of the Cascade range.
A low point, covered with pines, made out into the lake, which afforded us
a good place for an encampment, and for the security of our horses, which
were guarded in view on the open meadow. The character of courage and
hostility attributed to the Indians in this quarter induced more than
usual precaution; and, seeing smokes rising from the middle of the lake
(or savannah) and along the opposite shores, I directed the howitzer to be
fired. It was the first time our guides had seen it discharged; and the
bursting of the shell at a distance, which was something like the second
fire of the gun, amazed and bewildered them with delight. It inspired them
with triumphant feelings; but on the camps at a distance the effect was
different, for the smokes in the lake and on the shores immediately
disappeared.

The point on which we were encamped forms, with the opposite eastern
shore, a narrow neck, connecting the body of the lake with a deep cove or
bay which receives the principal affluent stream, and over the greater
part of which the water (or rather ice) was at this time dispersed in
shallow pools. Among the grass, and scattered over the prairie lake,
appeared to be similar marshes. It is simply a shallow basin, which, for a
short period at the time of melting snows, is covered with water from the
neighboring mountains; but this probably soon runs off, and leaves for the
remainder of the year a green savannah, through the midst of which the
river Tlamath, which flows to the ocean, winds its way to the outlet on
the south-western side.

11th.--No Indians made their appearance, and I determined to pay them a
visit. Accordingly the people were gathered together, and we rode out
towards the village in the middle of the lake which one of our guides had
previously visited. It could not be directly approached, as a large part
of the lake appeared a marsh; and there were sheets of ice among the grass
on which our horses could not keep their footing. We therefore followed
the guide for a considerable distance along the forest; and then turned
off towards the village, which we soon began to see was a few large huts,
on the tops of which were collected the Indians. When we had arrived
within half a mile of the village, two persons were seen advancing to meet
us; and, to please the fancy of our guides, we ranged ourselves into a
long line, riding abreast, while they galloped ahead to meet the
strangers.

We were surprised, on riding up, to find one of them a woman, having never
before known a squaw to take any part in the business of war. They were
the village chief and his wife, who, in excitement and alarm at the
unusual event and appearance, had come out to meet their fate together.
The chief was a very prepossessing Indian, with handsome features, and a
singularly soft and agreeable voice--so remarkable as to attract general
notice.

The huts were grouped together on the bank of the river which, from being
spread out in a shallow marsh at the upper end of the lake, was collected
here into a single stream. They were large round huts, perhaps 20 feet in
diameter, with rounded tops, on which was the door by which they descended
into the interior. Within, they were supported by posts and beams.

Almost like plants, these people seem to have adapted themselves to the
soil, and to be growing on what the immediate locality afforded. Their
only subsistence at the time appeared to be a small fish, great quantities
of which, that had been smoked and dried, were suspended on strings about
the lodge. Heaps of straw were lying around; and their residence in the
midst of grass and rushes had taught them a peculiar skill in converting
this material to useful purposes. Their shoes were made of straw or grass,
which seemed well adapted for a snowy country; and the women wore on their
heads a closely-woven basket, which made a very good cap. Among other
things, were party-colored mats about four feet square, which we purchased
to lay on the snow under our blankets, and to use for table-cloths.

Numbers of singular-looking dogs, resembling wolves, were sitting on the
tops of the huts; and of these we purchased a young one, which, after its
birthplace, was named Tlamath. The language spoken by these Indians is
different from that of the Shoshonee and Columbia River tribes; and
otherwise than by signs they cannot understand each other. They made us
comprehend that they were at war with the people who lived to the
southward and to the eastward; but I could obtain from them no certain
information. The river on which they live enters the Cascade mountains on
the western side of the lake, and breaks through them by a passage
impracticable for travelers; but over the mountains, to the northward, are
passes which present no other obstacle than in the almost impenetrable
forests. Unlike any Indians we had previously seen, these wore shells in
their noses. We returned to our camp, after remaining here an hour or two,
accompanied by a number of Indians.

In order to recruit a little the strength of our animals, and obtain some
acquaintance with the locality, we remained here for the remainder of the
day. By observation, the latitude of the camp was 42 deg. 56' 51", and the
diameter of the lake, or meadow, as has been intimated, about 20 miles. It
is a picturesque and beautiful spot, and, under the hand of cultivation,
might become a little paradise. Game is found in the forest, timbered and
snowy mountains skirt it, and fertility characterizes it. Situated near
the heads of three rivers, and on the line of inland communication with
California, and near to Indians noted for treachery, it will naturally, in
the progress of the settlement of Oregon, become a point for military
occupation and settlement.

From Tlamath lake, the further continuation of our voyage assumed a
character of discovery and exploration, which, from the Indians here, we
could obtain no information to direct, and where the imaginary maps of the
country, instead of assisting, exposed us to suffering and defeat. In our
journey across the desert, Mary's lake, and the famous Buenaventura river,
were two points on which I relied to recruit the animals and repose the
party. Forming, agreeably to the best maps in my possession, a connected
water-line from the Rocky mountains to the Pacific ocean, I felt no other
anxiety than to pass safely across the intervening desert to the banks of
the Buenaventura, where, in the softer climate of a more southern
latitude, our horses might find grass to sustain them, and ourselves be
sheltered from the rigors of winter, and from the inhospitable desert. The
guides who had conducted us thus far on our journey were about to return;
and I endeavored in vain to obtain others to lead us, even for a few days,
in the direction (east) which we wished to go. The chief to whom I applied
alleged the want of horses, and the snow on the mountains across which our
course would carry us, and the sickness of his family, as reasons for
refusing to go with us.

12th.--This morning the camp was thronged with Tlamath Indians from the
southeastern shore of the lake; but, knowing the treacherous disposition
which is a remarkable characteristic of the Indians south of the Columbia,
the camp was kept constantly on its guard. I was not unmindful of the
disasters which Smith and other travelers had met with in this country,
and therefore was equally vigilant in guarding against treachery and
violence.

According to the best information I had been able to obtain from the
Indians, in a few days' traveling we should reach another large water,
probably a lake, which they indicated exactly in the course we were about
to pursue. We struck our tents at 10 o'clock, and crossed the lake in a
nearly east direction, where it has the least extension--the breadth of
the arm being here only about a mile and a half. There were ponds of ice,
with but little grass, for the greater part of the way, and it was
difficult to get the pack-animals across, which fell frequently, and could
not get up with their loads, unassisted. The morning was very unpleasant,
snow falling at intervals in large flakes, and the sky dark. In about two
hours we succeeded in getting the animals over; and, after traveling
another hour along the eastern shore of the lake, we turned up into a cove
where there was a sheltered place among the timber, with good grass, and
encamped. The Indians, who had accompanied us so far, returned to their
village on the south-eastern shore. Among the pines here, I noticed some
five or six feet in diameter.

13th.--The night has been cold; the peaks around the lake gleam out
brightly in the morning sun, and the thermometer is at zero. We continued
up the hollow formed by a small affluent to the lake, and immediately
entered an open pine forest on the mountain. The way here was sometimes
obstructed by fallen trees, and the snow was four to twelve inches deep.
The mules at the gun pulled heavily, and walking was a little laborious.
In the midst of the wood, we heard the sound of galloping horses, and were
agreeably surprised by the unexpected arrival of our Tlamath chief with
several Indians. He seemed to have found his conduct inhospitable in
letting the strangers depart without a guide through the snow, and had
come, with a few others, to pilot us a day or two on the way. After
traveling in an easterly direction through the forest for about four
hours, we reached a considerable stream, with a border of good grass; and
here, by the advice of our guides, we encamped. It is about thirty feet
wide, and two to four feet deep, the water clear, with some current; and,
according to the information of our Indians, is the principal affluent to
the lake, and the head-water of the Tlamath river.

A very clear sky enabled me to obtain here to-night good observations,
including an emersion of the first satellite of Jupiter, which gave for
the long. 121 deg. 20' 42", and for the lat. 42 deg. 51' 26". This emersion
coincides remarkably well with the result obtained from an occultation at
the encampment of December 7th to 8th, 1843; from which place, the line of
our survey gives an easting of 13 miles. The day's journey was 12 miles.

14th.--Our road was over a broad mountain, and we rode seven hours in a
thick snow-storm, always through pine forests, when we came down upon the
head-waters of another stream, on which there was grass. The snow lay deep
on the ground, and only the high swamp-grass appeared above. The Indians
were thinly clad, and I had remarked during the day that they suffered
from cold. This evening they told me that the snow was getting too deep on
the mountain, and I could not induce them to go any farther. The stream we
had struck issued from the mountain in an easterly direction, turning to
the southward a short distance below; and, drawing its course upon the
ground, they made us comprehend that it pursued its way for a long
distance in that direction, uniting with many other streams, and gradually
becoming a great river. Without the subsequent information, which
confirmed the opinion, we became immediately satisfied that this water
formed the principal stream of the Sacramento river; and, consequently,
that this main affluent of the bay of San Francisco had its source within
the limits of the United States, and opposite a tributary to the Columbia,
and near the head of the Tlamath river, which goes to the ocean north of
42 deg., and within the United States.

15th.--A present, consisting of useful goods, afforded much satisfaction
to our guides; and, showing them the national flag, I explained that it
was a symbol of our nation; and they engaged always to receive it in a
friendly manner. The chief pointed out a course, by following which we
would arrive at the big water, where no more snow was to be found.
Traveling in a direction N. 60 deg. E. by compass, which the Indians informed
me would avoid a bad mountain to the right, we crossed the Sacramento
where it turned to the southward, and entered a grassy level plain--a
smaller Grand Rond; from the lower end of which the river issued into an
inviting country of low rolling hills. Crossing a hard-frozen swamp on the
farther side of the Rond, we entered again the pine forest, in which very
deep snow made our traveling slow and laborious. We were slowly but
gradually ascending a mountain; and, after a hard journey of seven hours,
we came to some naked places among the timber, where a few tufts of grass
showed above the snow, on the side of a hollow; and here we encamped. Our
cow, which every day got poorer, was killed here, but the meat was rather
tough.

16th.--We traveled this morning through snow about three feet deep, which,
being crusted, very much cut the feet of our animals. The mountain still
gradually rose; we crossed several spring heads covered with quaking asp;
otherwise it was all pine forest. The air was dark with falling snow,
which everywhere weighed down the trees. The depths of the forest were
profoundly still; and below, we scarcely felt a breath of the wind which
whirled the snow through their branches. I found that it required some
exertion of constancy to adhere steadily to one course through the woods,
when we were uncertain how far the forest extended, or what lay beyond;
and, on account of our animals, it would be bad to spend another night on
the mountain. Towards noon the forest looked clear ahead, appearing
suddenly to terminate; and beyond a certain point we could see no trees.
Riding rapidly ahead to this spot, we found ourselves on the verge of a
vertical and rocky wall of the mountain. At our feet--more than a thousand
feet below--we looked into a green prairie country, in which a beautiful
lake, some twenty miles in length, was spread along the foot of the
mountains, its shores bordered with green grass. Just then the sun broke
out among the clouds, and illuminated the country below; while around us
the storm raged fiercely. Not a particle of ice was to be seen on the
lake, or snow on its borders, and all was like summer or spring. The glow
of the sun in the valley below brightened up our hearts with sudden
pleasure; and we made the woods ring with joyful shouts to those behind;
and gradually, as each came up, he stopped to enjoy the unexpected scene.
Shivering on snow three feet deep, and stiffening in a cold north wind, we
exclaimed at once that the names of Summer Lake and Winter Ridge should be
applied to these two proximate places of such sudden and violent contrast.

We were now immediately on the verge of the forest land, in which we had
been traveling so many days; and, looking forward to the east, scarce a
tree was to be seen. Viewed from our elevation, the face of the country
exhibited only rocks and grass, and presented a region in which the
artemisia became the principal wood, furnishing to its scattered
inhabitants fuel for their fires, building material for their huts, and
shelter for the small game which ministers to their hunger and nakedness.
Broadly marked by the boundary at the mountain wall, and immediately below
us, were the first waters of that Great Interior Basin which has the
Wahsatch and Bear River mountains for its eastern, and the Sierra Nevada
for its western rim; and the edge of which we had entered upwards of three
months before, at the Great Salt Lake.

When we had sufficiently admired the scene below, we began to think about
descending, which here was impossible, and we turned towards the north,
traveling always along the rocky wall. We continued on for four or five
miles, making ineffectual attempts at several places; and at length
succeeded in getting down at one which was extremely difficult of descent.
Night had closed in before the foremost reached the bottom, and it was
dark before we all found ourselves together in the valley. There were
three or four half-dead dry cedar-trees on the shore, and those who first
arrived kindled bright fires to light on the others. One of the mules
rolled over and over two or three hundred feet into a ravine, but
recovered himself without any other injury than to his pack; and the
howitzer was left midway the mountain until morning. By observation, the
latitude of this encampment is 42 deg. 57' 22". It delayed us until near noon
the next day to recover ourselves and put every thing in order; and we
made only a short camp along the western shore of the lake, which, in the
summer temperature we enjoyed to-day, justified the name we had given it.
Our course would have taken us to the other shore, and over the highlands
beyond; but I distrusted the appearance of the country, and decided to
follow a plainly-beaten Indian trail leading along this side of the lake.
We were now in a country where the scarcity of water and of grass makes
traveling dangerous, and great caution was necessary.

18th.--We continued on the trail along the narrow strip of land between
the lake and the high rocky wall, from which we had looked down two days
before. Almost every half mile we crossed a little spring, or stream of
pure cold water, and the grass was certainly as fresh and green as in the
early spring. From the white efflorescence along the shore of the lake, we
were enabled to judge that the water was impure, like that of lakes we
subsequently found, but the mud prevented us from approaching it. We
encamped near the eastern point of the lake, where there appeared between
the hills a broad and low connecting hollow with the country beyond. From
a rocky hill in the rear, I could see, marked out by a line of yellow
dried grass, the bed of a stream, which probably connected the lake with
other waters in the spring.

The observed latitude of this encampment is 42 deg. 42' 37".

19th.--After two hours' ride in an easterly direction, through a low
country, the high ridge with pine forest still to our right, and a rocky
and bald but lower one on the left, we reached a considerable fresh-water
stream, which issues from the piny mountains. So far as we had been able
to judge, between this stream and the lake we had crossed dividing
grounds, and there did not appear to be any connection, as might be
inferred from the impure condition of the lake water.

The rapid stream of pure water, roaring along between banks overhung with
aspens and willows, was a refreshing and unexpected sight; and we followed
down the course of the stream, which brought us soon into a marsh, or dry
lake, formed by the expanding waters of the stream. It was covered with
high reeds and rushes, and large patches of ground had been turned up by
the squaws in digging for roots, as if a farmer had been preparing the
land for grain. I could not succeed in finding the plant for which they
had been digging. There were frequent trails, and fresh tracks of Indians;
and, from the abundant signs visible, the black-tailed hare appears to be
numerous here. It was evident that, in other seasons, this place was a
sheet of water. Crossing this marsh towards the eastern hills, and passing
over a bordering plain of heavy sands, covered with artemisia, we encamped
before sundown on the creek, which here was very small, having lost its
water in the marshy grounds. We found here tolerably good grass. The wind
to-night was high, and we had no longer our huge pine fires, but were
driven to our old resource of small dried willows and artemisia. About 12
miles ahead, the valley appears to be closed in by a high, dark-looking
ridge.

20th.--Traveling for a few hours down the stream this morning, we turned
the point of a hill on our left, and came suddenly in sight of another and
much larger lake, which, along its eastern shore, was closely bordered by
the high black ridge which walled it in by a precipitous face on this
side. Throughout this region the face of the country is characterized by
these precipices of black volcanic rock, generally enclosing the valleys
of streams, and frequently terminating the hills. Often, in the course of
our journey, we would be tempted to continue our road up the gentle ascent
of a sloping hill, which, at the summit, would terminate abruptly in a
black precipice. Spread out over a length of 20 miles, the lake, when we
first came in view, presented a handsome sheet of water, and I gave to it
the name of Lake Abert, in honor of the chief of the corps to which I
belonged. The fresh-water stream we had followed emptied into the lake by
a little fall; and I was doubtful for a moment whether to go on, or encamp
at this place. The miry ground in the neighborhood of the lake did not
allow us to examine the water conveniently, and, being now on the borders
of a desert country, we were moving cautiously. It was, however, still
early in the day, and I continued on trusting either that the water would
be drinkable or that we should find some little spring from the hill-side.
We were following an Indian trail which led along the steep rocky
precipice--a black ridge along the western shore holding out no prospect
whatever. The white efflorescences which lined the shore like a bank of
snow, and the disagreeable odor which filled the air as soon as we came
near, informed us too plainly that the water belonged to one of those
fetid salt lakes which are common in this region. We continued until late
in the evening to work along the rocky shore, but, as often afterwards,
the dry, inhospitable rock deceived us; and, halting on the lake, we
kindled up fires to guide those who were straggling along behind. We tried
the water, but it was impossible to drink it, and most of the people to-
night lay down without eating; but some of us, who had always a great
reluctance to close the day without supper, dug holes along the shore, and
obtained water, which, being filtered, was sufficiently palatable to be
used, but still retained much of its nauseating taste. There was very
little grass for the animals, the shore being lined with a luxuriant
growth of chenopodiaceous shrubs, which burned with a quick bright flame,
and made our firewood.

The next morning we had scarcely traveled two hours along the shore, when
we reached a place where the mountains made a bay, leaving at their feet a
low bottom around the lake. Here we found numerous hillocks covered with
rushes, in the midst of which were deep holes, or springs, of pure water;
and the bottom was covered with grass, which, although of a salt and
unwholesome quality, and mixed with saline efflorescences, was still
abundant, and made a good halting-place to recruit our animals, and we
accordingly encamped here for the remainder of the day. I rode ahead
several miles to ascertain if there was any appearance of a water-course
entering the lake, but found none, the hills preserving their dry
character, and the shore of the lake sprinkled with the same white powdery
substance, and covered with the same shrubs. There were flocks of ducks on
the lake, and frequent tracks of Indians along the shore, where the grass
had been recently burnt by their fires.

We ascended the bordering mountain, in order to obtain a more perfect view
of the lake, in sketching its figure: hills sweep entirely around its
basin, from which the waters have no outlet.

22d.--To-day we left this forbidding lake. Impassable rocky ridges barred
our progress to the eastward, and I accordingly bore off towards the
south, over an extensive sage-plain. At a considerable distance ahead, and
a little on our left, was a range of snowy mountains, and the country
declined gradually towards the foot of a high and nearer ridge,
immediately before us, which presented the feature of black precipices now
becoming common to the country. On the summit of the ridge, snow was
visible; and there being every indication of a stream at its base, we rode
on until after dark, but were unable to reach it, and halted among the
sage-bushes on the open plain, without either grass or water. The two
India-rubber bags had been filled with water in the morning, which
afforded sufficient for the camp; and rain in the night formed pools,
which relieved the thirst of the animals. Where we encamped on the bleak
sandy plain, the Indians had made huts or circular enclosures, about four
feet high and twelve feet broad, of artemisia bushes. Whether these had
been forts or houses, or what they had been doing in such a desert place,
we could not ascertain.

23d.--The weather is mild; the thermometer at daylight 38 deg.; the wind
having been from the southward for several days. The country has a very
forbidding appearance, presenting to the eye nothing but sage, and barren
ridges. We rode up towards the mountain, along the foot of which we found
a lake, that we could not approach on account of the mud; and, passing
around its southern end, ascended the slope at the foot of the ridge,
where in some hollows we had discovered bushes and small trees--in such
situations, a sure sign of water. We found here several springs, and the
hill-side was well sprinkled with a species of _festuca_--a better
grass than we had found for many days. Our elevated position gave us a
good view over the country, but we discovered nothing very encouraging.
Southward, about ten miles distant, was another small lake, towards which
a broad trail led along the ridge; and this appearing to afford the most
practicable route, I determined to continue our journey in that direction.

24th.--We found the water at the lake tolerably pure, and encamped at the
farther end. There were some good grass and canes along the shore, and the
vegetables at this place consisted principally of chenopodiaceous shrubs.

25th.--We were roused on Christmas morning by a discharge from the small-
arms and howitzer, with which our people saluted the day; and the name of
which we bestowed on the lake. It was the first time, perhaps, in this
remote and desolate region, in which it had been so commemorated. Always,
on days of religious or national commemoration, our voyageurs expect some
unusual allowance; and having nothing else, I gave them each a little
brandy, (which was carefully guarded, as one of the most useful articles a
traveler can carry,) with some coffee and sugar, which here, where every
eatable was a luxury, was sufficient to make them a feast. The day was
sunny and warm; and resuming our journey, we crossed some slight dividing
grounds into a similar basin, walled in on the right by a lofty mountain
ridge. The plainly-beaten trail still continued, and occasionally we
passed camping-grounds of the Indians, which indicated to me that we were
on one of the great thoroughfares of the country. In the afternoon I
attempted to travel in a more eastern direction; but after a few laborious
miles, was beaten back into the basin by an impassable country. There were
fresh Indian tracks about the valley, and last night a horse was stolen.
We encamped on the valley bottom, where there was some cream-like water in
ponds, colored by a clay soil, and frozen over. Chenopodiaceous shrubs
constituted the growth, and made again our firewood. The animals were
driven to the hill, where there was tolerably good grass.

26th.--Our general course was again south. The country consists of larger
or smaller basins, into which the mountain waters run down, forming small
lakes: they present a perfect level, from which the mountains rise
immediately and abruptly. Between the successive basins, the dividing
grounds are usually very slight; and it is probable that in the seasons of
high water, many of these basins are in communication. At such times there
is evidently an abundance of water, though now we find scarcely more than
the dry beds. On either side, the mountains, though not very high, appear
to be rocky and sterile. The basin in which we were traveling declined
towards the southwest corner, where the mountains indicated a narrow
outlet; and, turning round a rocky point or cape, we continued up a
lateral branch valley, in which we encamped at night, on a rapid, pretty
little stream of fresh water, which we found unexpectedly among the sage,
near the ridge, on the right side of the valley. It was bordered with
grassy bottoms and clumps of willows; the water partially frozen. This
stream belongs to the basin we had left. By a partial observation to-
night, our camp was found to be directly on the 42d parallel. To-night a
horse belonging to Carson, one of the best we had in the camp, was stolen
by the Indians.

27th.--We continued up the valley of the stream, the principal branch of
which here issues from a bed of high mountains. We turned up a branch to
the left, and fell into an Indian trail, which conducted us by a good road
over open bottoms along the creek, where the snow was five or six inches
deep. Gradually ascending, the trail led through a good broad pass in the
mountain, where we found the snow about one foot deep. There were some
remarkably large cedars in the pass, which were covered with an unusual
quantity of frost, which we supposed might possibly indicate the
neighborhood of water; and as, in the arbitrary position of Mary's lake,
we were already beginning to look for it, this circumstance contributed to
our hope of finding it near. Descending from the mountain, we reached
another basin, on the flat lake bed of which we found no water, and
encamped among the sage on the bordering plain, where the snow was still
about one foot deep. Among this the grass was remarkably green, and to-
night the animals fared tolerably well.

28th.--The snow being deep, I had determined, if any more horses were
stolen, to follow the tracks of the Indians into the mountains, and put a
temporary check to their sly operations; but it did not occur again.

Our road this morning lay down a level valley, bordered by steep
mountainous ridges, rising very abruptly from the plain. Artemisia was the
principal plant, mingled with Fremontia and the chenopodiaceous shrubs.
The artemisia was here extremely large, being sometimes a foot in
diameter, and eight feet high. Riding quietly along over the snow, we came
suddenly upon smokes rising among these bushes; and, galloping up, we
found two huts, open at the top, and loosely built of sage, which appeared
to have been deserted at the instant; and, looking hastily around, we saw
several Indians on the crest of the ridge near by, and several others
scrambling up the side. We had come upon them so suddenly, that they had
been well-nigh surprised in their lodges. A sage fire was burning in the
middle; a few baskets made of straw were lying about, with one or two
rabbit-skins; and there was a little grass scattered about, on which they
had been lying. "Tabibo--bo!" they shouted from the hills--a word which,
in the Snake language, signifies _white_--and remained looking at us
from behind the rocks. Carson and Godey rode towards the hill, but the men
ran off like deer. They had been so much pressed, that a woman with two
children had dropped behind a sage-bush near the lodge, and when Carson
accidentally stumbled upon her, she immediately began screaming in the
extremity of fear, and shut her eyes fast to avoid seeing him. She was
brought back to the lodge, and we endeavored in vain to open a
communication with the men. By dint of presents, and friendly
demonstrations, she was brought to calmness; and we found that they
belonged to the Snake nation, speaking the language of that people. Eight
or ten appeared to live together, under the same little shelter; and they
seemed to have no other subsistence than the roots or seeds they might
have stored up, and the hares which live in the sage, and which they are
enabled to track through the snow, and are very skilful in killing. Their
skins afford them a little scanty covering. Herding together among bushes,
and crouching almost naked over a little sage fire, using their instinct
only to procure food, these may be considered, among human beings, the
nearest approach to the animal creation. We have reason to believe that
these had never before seen the face of a white man.

The day had been pleasant, but about two o'clock it began to blow; and
crossing a slight dividing ground we encamped on the sheltered side of a
hill, where there was good bunch-grass, having made a day's journey of 24
miles. The night closed in, threatening snow; but the large sage-bushes
made bright fires.

29th.--The morning mild, and at 4 o'clock it commenced snowing. We took
our way across a plain, thickly covered with snow, towards a range of
hills in the southeast. The sky soon became so dark with snow, that little
could be seen of the surrounding country; and we reached the summit of the
hills in a heavy snow-storm. On the side we had approached, this had
appeared to be only a ridge of low hills and we were surprised to find
ourselves on the summit of a bed of broken mountains, which, as far as the
weather would permit us to see, declined rapidly to some low country
ahead, presenting a dreary and savage character; and for a moment I looked
around in doubt on the wild and inhospitable prospect, scarcely knowing
what road to take which might conduct us to some place of shelter for the
night. Noticing among the hills the head of a grassy hollow, I determined
to follow it, in the hope that it would conduct us to a stream. We
followed a winding descent for several miles, the hollow gradually
broadening into little meadows, and becoming the bed of a stream as we
advanced; and towards night we were agreeably surprised by the appearance
of a willow grove, where we found a sheltered camp, with water and
excellent and abundant grass. The grass, which was covered by the snow on
the bottom, was long and green, and the face of the mountain had a more
favorable character in its vegetation, being smoother, and covered with
good bunch-grass. The snow was deep, and the night very cold. A broad
trail had entered the valley from the right, and a short distance below
the camp were the tracks where a considerable party of Indians had passed
on horseback, who had turned out to the left, apparently with the view of
crossing the mountains to the eastward.

30th.--After following the stream for a few hours in a southeasterly
direction, it entered a canon where we could not follow; but, determined
not to leave the stream, we searched a passage below, where we could
regain it, and entered a regular narrow valley. The water had now more the
appearance of a flowing creek; several times we passed groves of willows,
and we began to feel ourselves out of all difficulty. From our position,
it was reasonable to conclude that this stream would find its outlet in
Mary's lake, and conduct us into a better country. We had descended
rapidly, and here we found very little snow. On both sides, the mountains
showed often stupendous and curious-looking rocks, which at several places
so narrowed the valley, that scarcely a pass was left for the camp. It was
a singular place to travel through--shut up in the earth, a sort of chasm,
the little strip of grass under our feet, the rough walls of bare rock on
either hand, and the narrow strip of sky above. The grass to-night was
abundant, and we encamped in high spirits.

31st.--After an hour's ride this morning, our hopes were once more
destroyed. The valley opened out, and before us again lay one of the dry
basins. After some search, we discovered a high-water outlet, which
brought us in a few miles, and by a descent of several hundred feet, into
a long, broad basin, in which we found the bed of the stream, and obtained
sufficient water by cutting the ice. The grass on the bottoms was salt and
unpalatable.

Here we concluded the year 1843, and our new year's eve was rather a
gloomy one. The result of our journey began to be very uncertain; the
country was singularly unfavorable to travel; the grasses being frequently
of a very unwholesome character, and the hoofs of our animals were so worn
and cut by the rocks, that many of them were lame, and could scarcely be
got along.



JANUARY.


New Year's day, 1844.--We continued down the valley, between a dry-looking
black ridge on the left, and a more snowy and high one on the right. Our
road was bad along the bottom, being broken by gullies and impeded by
sage, and sandy on the hills, where there is not a blade of grass, nor
does any appear on the mountains. The soil in many places consists of a
fine powdery sand, covered with a saline efflorescence; and the general
character of the country is desert. During the day we directed our course
towards a black cape, at the foot of which a column of smoke indicated hot
springs.

2d.--We were on the road early. The face of the country was hidden by
falling snow. We traveled along the bed of the stream, in some places dry,
in others covered with ice; the traveling being very bad, through deep
fine sand, rendered tenacious by a mixture of clay. The weather cleared up
a little at noon, and we reached the hot springs of which we had seen the
vapor the day before. There was a large field of the usual salt grass
here, peculiar to such places. The country otherwise is a perfect barren,
without a blade of grass, the only plant being some dwarf Fremontias. We
passed the rocky cape, a jagged broken point, bare and torn. The rocks are
volcanic, and the hills here have a burnt appearance--cinders and coal
occasionally appearing as at a blacksmith's forge. We crossed the large
dry bed of a muddy lake in a southeasterly direction, and encamped at
night, without water and without grass, among sage-bushes covered with
snow. The heavy road made several mules give out to-day; and a horse,
which had made the journey from the States successfully, thus far, was
left on the trail.

3d.--A fog, so dense that we could not see a hundred yards, covered the
country, and the men that were sent out after the horses were bewildered
and lost; and we were consequently detained at camp until late in the day.
Our situation had now become a serious one. We had reached and run over
the position where, according to the best maps in my possession, we should
have found Mary's lake or river. We were evidently on the verge of the
desert which had been reported to us; and the appearance of the country
was so forbidding, that I was afraid to enter it, and determined to bear
away to the southward, keeping close along the mountains, in the full
expectation of reaching the Buenaventura river. This morning I put every
man in the camp on foot--myself, of course, among the rest--and in this
manner lightened by distribution the loads of the animals. We traveled
seven or eight miles along the ridge bordering the valley, and encamped
where there were a few bunches of grass on the bed of a hill-torrent,
without water. There were some large artemisias; but the principal plants
are chenopodiaceous shrubs. The rock composing the mountains is here
changed suddenly into white granite. The fog showed the tops of the hills
at sunset, and stars enough for observations in the early evening, and
then closed over us as before. Latitude by observation, 40 deg. 48' 15".

4th.--The fog to-day was still more dense, and the people again were
bewildered. We traveled a few miles around the western point of the ridge,
and encamped where there were a few tufts of grass, but no water. Our
animals now were in a very alarming state, and there was increased anxiety
in the camp.

5th.--Same dense fog continued, and one of the mules died in camp this
morning. I have had occasion to remark, on such occasions as these, that
animals which are about to die leave the band, and, coming into the camp;
lie down about the fires. We moved to a place where there was a little
better grass, about two miles distant. Taplin, one of our best men, who
had gone out on a scouting excursion, ascended a mountain near by, and to
his surprise emerged into a region of bright sunshine, in which the upper
parts of the mountain were glowing, while below all was obscured in the
darkest fog.

6th.--The fog continued the same, and, with Mr. Preuss and Carson, I
ascended the mountain, to sketch the leading features of the country as
some indication of our future route, while Mr. Fitzpatrick explored the
country below. In a very short distance we had ascended above the mist,
but the view obtained was not very gratifying. The fog had partially
cleared off from below when we reached the summit; and in the southwest
corner of a basin communicating with that in which we had encamped, we saw
a lofty column of smoke, 16 miles distant, indicating the presence of hot
springs. There, also, appeared to be the outlet of those draining channels
of the country; and, as such places afforded always more or less grass, I
determined to steer in that direction. The ridge we had ascended appeared
to be composed of fragments of white granite. We saw here traces of sheep
and antelope.

Entering the neighboring valley, and crossing the bed of another lake,
after a hard day's travel over ground of yielding mud and sand, we reached
the springs, where we found an abundance of grass, which, though only
tolerably good, made this place, with reference to the past, a refreshing
and agreeable spot.

This is the most extraordinary locality of hot springs we had met during
the journey. The basin of the largest one has a circumference of several
hundred feet; but there is at one extremity a circular space of about
fifteen feet in diameter, entirely occupied by the boiling water. It boils
up at irregular intervals, and with much noise. The water is clear, and
the spring deep: a pole about sixteen feet long was easily immersed in the
centre; but we had no means of forming a good idea of the depth. It was
surrounded on the margin with a border of _green_ grass, and near the
shore the temperature of the water was 206 deg.. We had no means of
ascertaining that of the centre, where the heat was greatest; but, by
dispersing the water with a pole, the temperature at the margin was
increased to 208 deg., and in the centre it was doubtless higher. By driving
the pole towards the bottom, the water was made to boil up with increased
force and noise. There are several other interesting places, where water
and smoke or gas escape; but they would require a long description. The
water is impregnated with common salt, but not so much as to render it
unfit for general cooking; and a mixture of snow made it pleasant to
drink.

In the immediate neighborhood, the valley bottom is covered almost
exclusively with chenopodiaceous shrubs, of greater luxuriance, and larger
growth, than we have seen them in any preceding part of the journey.

I obtained this evening some astronomical observations.

Our situation now required caution. Including those which gave out from
the injured condition of their feet, and those stolen by Indians, we had
lost, since leaving the Dalles of the Columbia, fifteen animals; and of
these, nine had been left in the last few days. I therefore determined,
until we should reach a country of water and vegetation, to feel our way
ahead, by having the line of route explored some fifteen or twenty miles
in advance, and only to leave a present encampment when the succeeding one
was known.

Taking with me Godey and Carson, I made to-day a thorough exploration of
the neighboring valleys, and found in a ravine, in the bordering
mountains, a good encamping place, where was water in springs, and a
sufficient quantity of grass for a night. Overshadowing the springs were
some trees of the sweet cottonwood, which, after a long interval of
absence, we saw again with pleasure; regarding them as harbingers of a
better country. To us, they were eloquent of green prairies and buffalo.
We found here a broad and plainly-marked trail, on which there were tracks
of horses, and we appeared to have regained one of the thoroughfares which
pass by the watering-places of the country. On the western mountains of
the valley, with which this of the boiling spring communicates, we
remarked scattered cedars--probably indicating that we were on the borders
of the timbered region extending to the Pacific. We reached the camp at
sunset, after a day's ride of about 40 miles. The horses we rode were in
good order, being of some that were kept for emergencies, and rarely used.

Mr. Preuss had ascended one of the mountains, and occupied the day in
sketching the country; and Mr. Fitzpatrick had found, a few miles distant,
a hollow of excellent grass and pure water, to which the animals were
driven, as I remained another day to give them an opportunity to recruit
their strength. Indians appear to be everywhere prowling about like wild
animals, and there is a fresh trail across the snow in the valley near.

Latitude of the boiling springs, 40 deg. 39' 46".

On the 9th we crossed over to the cottonwood camp. Among the shrubs on the
hills were a few bushes of _ephedra occidentalis_, which afterwards
occurred frequently along the road, and, as usual, the lowlands were
occupied with artemisia. While the party proceeded to this place, Carson
and myself reconnoitred the road in advance, and found another good
encampment for the following day.

10th.--We continued our reconnoissance ahead, pursuing a south direction
in the basin along the ridge; the camp following slowly after. On a large
trail there is never any doubt of finding suitable places for encampments.
We reached the end of the basin, where we found, in a hollow of the
mountain which enclosed it, an abundance of good bunch-grass. Leaving a
signal for the party to encamp, we continued our way up the hollow,
intending to see what lay beyond the mountain. The hollow was several
miles long, forming a good pass; the snow deepening to about a foot as we
neared the summit. Beyond, a defile between the mountains descended
rapidly about two thousand feet; and, filling up all the lower space, was
a sheet of green water, some twenty miles broad. It broke upon our eyes
like the ocean. The neighboring peaks rose high above us, and we ascended
one of them to obtain a better view. The waves were curling in the breeze,
and their dark-green color showed it to be a body of deep water. For a
long time we sat enjoying the view, for we had become fatigued with
mountains, and the free expanse of moving waves was very grateful. It was
set like a gem in the mountains, which, from our position, seemed to
enclose it almost entirely. At the western end it communicated with the
line of basins we had left a few days since; and on the opposite side it
swept a ridge of snowy mountains, the foot of the great Sierra. Its
position at first inclined us to believe it Mary's lake, but the rugged
mountains were so entirely discordant with descriptions of its low rushy
shores and open country, that we concluded it some unknown body of water,
which it afterwards proved to be.

On our road down, the next day, we saw herds of mountain sheep, and
encamped on a little stream at the mouth of the defile, about a mile from
the margin of the water, to which we hurried down immediately. The water
is so slightly salt, that, at first, we thought it fresh, and would be
pleasant to drink when no other could be had. The shore was rocky--a
handsome beach, which reminded us of the sea. On some large _granite_
boulders that were scattered about the shore, I remarked a coating of
calcareous substance, in some places a few inches, and in others a foot in
thickness. Near our camp, the hills, which were of primitive rock, were
also covered with this substance, which was in too great quantity on the
mountains along the shore of the lake to have been deposited by water, and
has the appearance of having been spread over the rocks in mass.

[Footnote: The label attached to a specimen of this rock was lost; but I
append an analysis of that which, from memory, I judge to be the specimen:

Carbonate of lime------------------ 77.31
Carbonate of magnesia--------------  5.25
Oxide of iron----------------------  1.60
Alumina----------------------------  1.05
Silica-----------------------------  8.55
Organic matter, water, and loss----  6.24
                                   -------
                                   100.00]

Where we had halted appeared to be a favorite camping-place for Indians.

13th.--We followed again a broad Indian trail along the shore of the lake
to the southward. For a short space we had room enough in the bottom; but,
after traveling a short distance, the water swept the foot of the
precipitous mountains, the peaks of which are about 3,000 feet above the
lake. The trail wound along the base of these precipices, against which
the water dashed below, by a way nearly impracticable for the howitzer.
During a greater part of the morning the lake was nearly hid by a snow-
storm, and the waves broke on the narrow beach in a long line of foaming
serf, five or six feet high. The day was unpleasantly cold, the wind
driving the snow sharp against our faces; and, having advanced only about
12 miles, we encamped in a bottom formed by a ravine, covered with good
grass, which was fresh and green.

We did not get the howitzer into camp, but were obliged to leave it on the
rocks until morning. We saw several flocks of sheep, but did not succeed
in killing any. Ducks were riding on the waves, and several large fish
were seen. The mountain sides were crusted with the calcareous cement
previously mentioned. There were chenopodiaceous and other shrubs along
the beach; and, at the foot of the rocks, an abundance of _ephedra
occidentalis_, whose dark-green color makes them evergreens among the
shrubby growth of the lake. Towards evening the snow began to fall
heavily, and the country had a wintry appearance.

The next morning the snow was rapidly melting under a warm sun. Part of
the morning was occupied in bringing up the gun; and, making only nine
miles, we encamped on the shore, opposite a very remarkable rock in the
lake, which had attracted our attention for many miles. It rose, according
to our estimate, 600 feet above the water, and, from the point we viewed
it, presented a pretty exact outline of the great pyramid of Cheops. Like
other rocks along the shore, it seemed to be incrusted with calcareous
cement. This striking feature suggested a name for the lake, and I called
it Pyramid Lake; and though it may be deemed by some a fanciful
resemblance, I can undertake to say that the future traveler will find
much more striking resemblance between this rock and the pyramids of
Egypt, than there is between them and the object from which they take
their name.

The elevation of this lake above the sea is 4,890 feet, being nearly 700
feet higher than the Great Salt lake, from which it lies nearly west, and
distant about eight degrees of longitude. The position and elevation of
this lake make it an object of geographical interest. It is the nearest
lake to the western rim, as the Great Salt lake is to the eastern rim, of
the Great Basin which lies between the base of the Rocky mountains and the
Sierra Nevada--and the extent and character of which, its whole
circumference and contents, it is so desirable to know.

The last of the cattle which had been driven from the Dalles was killed
here for food, and was still in good condition.

15th.--A few poor-looking Indians made their appearance this morning, and
we succeeded in getting one into the camp. He was naked, with the
exception of a tunic of hare-skins. He told us that there was a river at
the end of the lake, but that he lived in the rocks near by. From the few
words our people could understand, he spoke a dialect of the Snake
language; but we were not able to understand enough to know Whether the
river ran in or out, or what was its course; consequently, there still
remained a chance that this might be Mary's lake.

Groves of large cottonwood, which we could see at the mouth of the river,
indicated that it was a stream of considerable size, and, at all events,
we had the pleasure to know that now we were in a country where human
beings could live. Accompanied by the Indian, we resumed our road, passing
on the way several caves in the rock where there were baskets and reeds,
but the people had disappeared. We saw also horse-tracks along the shore.

Early in the afternoon, when we were approaching the groves at the mouth
of the river, three or four Indians met us on the trail. We had an
explanatory conversation in signs, and then we moved on together towards
the village, which the chief said was encamped on the bottom.

Reaching the groves, we found the _inlet_ of a large freshwater
stream, and all at once were satisfied that it was neither Mary's river
nor the waters of the Sacramento, but that we had discovered a large
interior lake, which the Indians informed us had no outlet. It is about 35
miles long, and, by the mark of the water-line along the shore, the spring
level is about 12 feet above its present waters. The chief commenced
speaking in a loud voice as we approached; and parties of Indians, armed
with bows and arrows, issued from the thickets. We selected a strong place
for our encampment--a grassy bottom, nearly enclosed by the river, and
furnished with abundant firewood. The village, a collection of straw huts,
was a few hundred yards higher up. An Indian brought in a large fish to
trade, which we had the inexpressible satisfaction to find was a salmon-
trout; we gathered round him eagerly. The Indians were amused with our
delight, and immediately brought in numbers, so that the camp was soon
stocked. Their flavor was excellent--superior, in fact, to that of any
fish I have ever known. They were of extraordinary size--about as large as
the Columbia River salmon--generally from two to four feet in length. From
the information of Mr. Walker, who passed among some lakes lying more to
the eastward, this fish is common to the streams of the inland lakes. He
subsequently informed me that he had obtained them weighing six pounds
when cleaned and the head taken off, which corresponds very well with the
size of those obtained at this place. They doubtless formed the
subsistence of these people, who hold the fishery in exclusive possession.

I remarked that one of them gave a fish to the Indian we had first seen,
which he carried off to his family. To them it was probably a feast; being
of the Digger tribe, and having no share in the fishery, living generally
on seeds and roots. Although this was a time of the year when the fish
have not yet become fat, they were excellent, and we could only imagine
what they are at the proper season. These Indians were very fat, and
appeared to live an easy and happy life. They crowded into the camp more
than was consistent with our safety, retaining always their arms; and, as
they made some unsatisfactory demonstrations, they were given to
understand that they would not be permitted to come armed into the camp;
and strong guards were kept with the horses. Strict vigilance was
maintained among the people, and one-third at a time were kept on guard
during the night. There is no reason to doubt that these dispositions,
uniformly preserved, conducted our party securely through Indians famed
for treachery.

In the mean time, such a salmon-trout feast as is seldom seen was going on
in our camp; and every variety of manner in which fish could be prepared--
boiled, fried, and roasted in the ashes--was put into requisition; and
every few minutes an Indian would be seen running off to spear a fresh
one. Whether these Indians had seen whites before, we could not be
certain; but they were evidently in communication with others who had, as
one of them had some brass buttons, and we noticed several other articles
of civilized manufacture. We could obtain from them but little information
respecting the country. They made on the ground a drawing of the river,
which they represented as issuing from another lake in the mountains three
or four days distant, in a direction a little west of south; beyond which,
they drew a mountain; and further still, two rivers; on one of which they
told us that people like ourselves traveled. Whether they alluded to the
settlements on the Sacramento, or to a party from the United States which
had crossed the Sierra about three degrees to the southward, a few years
since, I am unable to determine.

I tried unsuccessfully to prevail on some of them to guide us for a few
days on the road, but they only looked at each other and laughed.

The latitude of our encampment, which may be considered the mouth of the
inlet, is 39 deg. 51' 13" by our observations.

16th.--This morning we continued our journey along this beautiful stream,
which we naturally called the Salmon Trout river. Large trails led up on
either side; the stream was handsomely timbered with large cottonwoods;
and the waters were very clear and pure. We were traveling along the
mountains of the great Sierra, which rose on our right, covered with snow;
but below the temperature was mild and pleasant. We saw a number of dams
which the Indians had constructed to catch fish. After having made about
18 miles, we encamped under some large cottonwoods on the river bottom,
where there was tolerably good grass.

17th.--This morning we left the river, which here issues from mountains on
the west. With every stream I now expected to see the great Buenaventura;
and Carson hurried eagerly to search, on every one we reached, for beaver
cuttings, which he always maintained we should find only on waters that
ran to the Pacific; and the absence of such signs was to him a sure
indication that the water had no outlet from the Great Basin. We followed
the Indian trail through a tolerably level country, with small sage-
bushes, which brought us, after 20 miles' journey, to another large
stream, timbered with cottonwood, and flowing also out of the mountains,
but running more directly to the eastward.

On the way we surprised a family of Indians in the hills; but the man ran
up the mountain with rapidity; and the woman was so terrified, and kept up
such a continued screaming, that we could do nothing with her, and were
obliged to let her go.

18th.--There were Indian lodges and fish-dams on the stream. There were no
beaver cuttings on the river; but below, it turned round to the right;
and, hoping that it would prove a branch of the Buenaventura, we followed
it down for about three hours, and encamped.

I rode out with Mr. Fitzpatrick and Carson to reconnoitre the country,
which had evidently been alarmed by the news of our appearance. This
stream joined with the open valley of another to the eastward; but which
way the main water ran, it was impossible to tell. Columns of smoke rose
over the country at scattered intervals--signals by which the Indians
here, as elsewhere, communicate to each other that enemies are in the
country. It is a signal of ancient and very universal application among
barbarians.

Examining into the condition of the animals when I returned into the camp,
I found their feet so much cut up by the rocks, and so many of them lame,
that it was evidently impossible that they could cross the country to the
Rocky mountains. Every piece of iron that could be used for the purpose
had been converted into nails, and we could make no further use of the
shoes we had remaining. I therefore determined to abandon my eastern
course, and to cross the Sierra Nevada into the valley of the Sacramento,
wherever a practicable pass could be found. My decision was heard with joy
by the people, and diffused new life throughout the camp.

Latitude, by observation, 39 deg. 24' 16".

19th.--A great number of smokes are still visible this morning, attesting
at once the alarm our appearance had spread among these people, and their
ignorance of us. If they knew the whites, they would understand that their
only object in coming among them was to trade, which required peace and
friendship; but they have nothing to trade--consequently, nothing to
attract the white man; hence their fear and flight.

At daybreak we had a heavy snow; but set out, and, returning up the
stream, went out of our way in a circuit over a little mountain; and
encamped on the same stream, a few miles above, in latitude 39 deg. 19' 21" by
observation.

20th.--To-day we continued up the stream, and encamped on it close to the
mountains. The freshly fallen snow was covered with the tracks of Indians,
who had descended from upper waters, probably called down by the smokes in
the plain.

We ascended a peak of the range, which commanded a view of this stream
behind the first ridge, where it was winding its course through a somewhat
open valley, and I sometimes regret that I did not make the trial to cross
here; but while we had fair weather below, the mountains were darkened
with falling snow, and, feeling unwilling to encounter them, we turned
away again to the southward. In that direction we traveled the next day
over a tolerably level country, having always the high mountains on the
west. There was but little snow or rock on the ground; and, after having
traveled 24 miles, we encamped again on another large stream, running off
to the northward and eastward, to meet that we had left. It ran through
broad bottoms, having a fine meadow-land appearance.

Latitude 39 deg. 01' 53".

22d.--We traveled up the stream about fourteen miles, to the foot of the
mountains, from which one branch issued in the southwest, the other
flowing S.S.E. along their base. Leaving camp below, we ascended the range
through which the first stream passed, in a canon; on the western side was
a circular valley about 15 miles long, through which the stream wound its
way, issuing from a gorge in the main mountain, which rose abruptly
beyond. The valley looked yellow with faded grass; and the trail we had
followed was visible, making towards the gorge, and this was evidently a
pass; but again, while all was bright sunshine on the ridge and on the
valley where we were, the snow was falling heavily in the mountains. I
determined go still to the southward, and encamped on the stream near the
forks, the animals being fatigued and the grass tolerably good.

The rock of the ridge we had ascended is a compact lava, assuming a
granitic appearance and structure, and containing, in some places, small
nodules of obsidian. So far as composition and aspect are concerned, the
rock in other parts of the ridge appears to be granite; but it is probable
that this is only a compact form of lava of recent origin.

By observation, the elevation of the encampment was 5,020 feet; and the
latitude 38 deg. 49' 54".

23d.--We moved along the course of the other branch towards the southeast,
the country affording a fine road; and, passing some slight dividing-
grounds, descended towards the valley of another stream. There was a
somewhat rough-looking mountain ahead, which it appeared to issue from, or
to enter--we could not tell which; and as the course of the valley and the
inclination of the ground had a favorable direction, we were sanguine to
find here a branch of the Buenaventura; but were again disappointed,
finding it an inland water, on which we encamped after a day's journey of
24 miles. It was evident that, from the time we descended into the plain
at Summer lake, we had been flanking the great range of mountains which
divided the Great Basin from the waters of the Pacific; and that the
continued succession, and almost connection, of lakes and rivers which we
encountered, were the drainings of that range. Its rains, springs, and
snows, would sufficiently account for these lakes and streams, numerous as
they were.

24th.--A man was discovered running towards the camp as we were about to
start this morning, who proved to be an Indian of rather advanced age--a
sort of forlorn hope, who seemed to have been worked up into the
resolution of visiting the strangers who were passing through the country.
He seized the hand of the first man he met as he came up, out of breath,
and held on, as if to assure himself of protection. He brought with him,
in a little skin bag, a few pounds of the seeds of a pine-tree, which to-
day we saw for the first time, and which Dr. Torrey has described as a new
species, under the name of _pinus monophyllus_; in popular language
it might be called the _nut pine_. We purchased them all from him.
The nut is oily, of very agreeable flavor, and must be very nutritious, as
it constitutes the principal subsistence of the tribes among which we were
now traveling. By a present of scarlet cloth, and other striking articles,
we prevailed upon this man to be our guide of two days' journey. As
clearly as possible by signs, we made him understand our object; and he
engaged to conduct us in sight of a good pass which he knew. Here we
ceased to hear the Shoshonee language--that of this man being perfectly
unintelligible. Several Indians, who had been waiting to see what
reception he would meet with, now came into camp; and, accompanied by the
new-comers, we resumed our journey.

The road led us up the creek, which here becomes a rather rapid mountain
stream, fifty feet wide, between dark-looking hills without snow; but
immediately beyond them rose snowy mountains on either side, timbered
principally with the nut pine. On the lower grounds, the general height of
this tree is twelve to twenty feet, and eight inches the greatest
diameter; it is rather branching, and has a peculiar and singular, but
pleasant odor. We followed the river for only a short distance along a
rocky trail, and crossed it at a dam which the Indians made us comprehend
had been built to catch salmon trout. The snow and ice were heaped up
against it three or four feet deep entirely across the stream.

Leaving here the stream, which runs through impassable canons, we
continued our road over a very broken country, passing through a low gap
between the snowy mountains. The rock which occurs immediately in the pass
has the appearance of impure sandstone, containing scales of black mica.
This may be only a stratified lava. On issuing from the gap, the compact
lava, and other volcanic products usual in the country, again occurred. We
descended from the gap into a wide valley, or rather basin, and encamped
on a small tributary to the last stream, on which there was very good
grass. It was covered with such thick ice, that it required some labor
with pickaxes to make holes for the animals to drink. The banks are
lightly wooded with willow, and on the upper bottoms are sage and
Fremontia, with _ephedra occidentalis_, which begins to occur more
frequently. The day has been a summer one, warm and pleasant; no snow on
the trail, which, as we are all on foot, makes traveling more agreeable.
The hunters went into a neighboring mountain, but found no game. We have
five Indians in camp to-night.

25th.--The morning was cold and bright, and as the sun rose the day became
beautiful. A party of twelve Indians came down from the mountains to trade
pine nuts, of which each one carried a little bag. These seemed now to be
the staple of the country; and whenever we met an Indian, his friendly
salutation consisted in offering a few nuts to eat and to trade; their
only arms were bows and flint-pointed arrows. It appeared that in almost
all the valleys the neighboring bands were at war with each other; and we
had some difficulty in prevailing on our guides to accompany us on this
day's journey, being at war with the people on the other side of a large
snowy mountain which lay before us.

The general level of the country appeared to be getting higher, and we
were gradually entering the heart of the mountains. Accompanied by all the
Indians, we ascended a long ridge, and reached a pure spring at the edge
of the timber, where the Indians had waylaid and killed an antelope, and
where the greater part of them left us. Our pacific conduct had quieted
their alarms; and though at war among each other, yet all confided in us--
thanks to the combined effects of power and kindness--for our arms
inspired respect, and our little presents and good treatment conciliated
their confidence. Here we suddenly entered snow six inches deep, and the
ground was a little rocky, with volcanic fragments, the mountain appearing
to be composed of such rock. The timber consists principally of nut pines,
(_pinus monophyllus_,) which here are of larger size--12 to 15 inches
in diameter; heaps of cones lying on the ground, where the Indians have
gathered the seeds.

The snow deepened gradually as we advanced. Our guides wore out their
moccasins; and putting one of them on a horse, we enjoyed the unusual
sight of an Indian who could not ride. He could not even guide the animal,
and appeared to have no knowledge of horses. The snow was three or four
feet deep on the summit of the, pass; and from this point the guide
pointed out our future road, declining to go any further. Below us was a
little valley; and beyond this the mountains rose higher still, one ridge
above another, presenting a rude and rocky outline. We descended rapidly
to the valley: the snow impeded us but little; yet it was dark when we
reached the foot of the mountain.

The day had been so warm that our moccasins were wet with melting snow;
but here, as soon as the sun begins to decline, the air gets suddenly
cold, and we had great difficulty to keep our feet from freezing--our
moccasins being frozen perfectly stiff. After a hard day's march of 27
miles, we reached the river some time after dark, and found the snow about
a foot deep on the bottom--the river being entirely frozen over. We found
a comfortable camp, where there were dry willows abundant, and we soon had
blazing fires. A little brandy, which I husbanded with great care,
remained, and I do not know any medicine more salutary, or any drink
(except coffee) more agreeable, than this in a cold night and after a hard
day's march. Mr. Preuss questioned whether the famed nectar ever possessed
so exquisite a flavor. All felt it to be a reviving cordial.

The next morning, when the sun had not yet risen over the mountains, the
thermometer was at 2 deg. below zero; but the sky was bright and pure, and the
weather changed rapidly into a pleasant day of summer. I remained encamped
in order to examine the country, and allow the animals a day of rest, the
grass being good and abundant under the snow.

The river is fifty or eighty feet wide, with a lively current, and very
clear water. It forked a little above our camp, one of its branches coming
directly from the south. At its head appeared to be a handsome pass; and
from the neighboring heights we could see, beyond, a comparatively low and
open country, which was supposed to form the valley of the Buenaventura.
The other branch issued from a nearer pass, in a direction S. 75 deg. W.,
forking at the foot of the mountain, and receiving a part of its waters
from a little lake. I was in advance of the camp when our last guides had
left us; but, so far as could be understood, this was the pass which they
had indicated, and, in company with Carson, to-day I set out to explore
it. Entering the range, we continued in a northwesterly direction up the
valley, which here bent to the right. It was a pretty open bottom, locked
between lofty mountains, which supplied frequent streams as we advanced.
On the lower part they were covered with nut-pine trees, and above with
masses of pine, which we easily recognised, from the darker color of the
foliage. From the fresh trails which occurred frequently during the
morning, deer appeared to be remarkably numerous in the mountain.

We had now entirely left the desert country, and were on the verge of a
region which, extending westward to the shores of the Pacific, abounds in
large game, and is covered with a singular luxuriance of vegetable life.

The little stream grew rapidly smaller, and in about twelve miles we had
reached its head, the last water coming immediately out of the mountain on
the right; and this spot was selected for our next encampment. The grass
showed well in sunny places; but in colder situations the snow was deep,
and began to occur in banks, through which the horses found some
difficulty in breaking a way.

To the left, the open valley continued in a southwesterly direction, with
a scarcely perceptible ascent, forming a beautiful pass, the exploration
of which we deferred until the next day, and returned to the camp.

To-day an Indian passed through the valley, on his way into the mountains,
where he showed us was his lodge. We comprehended nothing of his language;
and, though he appeared to have no fear, passing along in full view of the
camp, he was indisposed to hold any communication with us, but showed the
way he was going, and pointed for us to go on our road.

By observation, the latitude of this encampment was 38 deg. 18' 01", and the
elevation above the sea 6,310 feet.

27th.--Leaving the camp to follow slowly, with directions to Carson to
encamp at the place agreed on, Mr. Fitzpatrick and myself continued the
reconnoissance. Arriving at the head of the stream, we began to enter the
pass--passing occasionally through open groves of large pine-trees, on the
warm side of the defile, where the snow had melted away, occasionally
exposing a large Indian trail. Continuing along a narrow meadow, we
reached, in a few miles, the gate of the pass, where there was a narrow
strip of prairie, about 50 yards wide, between walls of granite rock. On
either side rose the mountains, forming on the left a rugged mass, or
nucleus, wholly covered with deep snow, presenting a glittering and icy
surface. At the time, we supposed this to be the point into which they
were gathered between the two great rivers, and from which the waters
flowed off to the bay. This was the icy and cold side of the pass, and the
rays of the sun hardly touched the snow. On the left, the mountains rose
into peaks, but they were lower and secondary, and the country had a
somewhat more open and lighter character. On the right were several hot
springs, which appeared remarkable in such a place. In going through, we
felt impressed by the majesty of the mountain, along the huge wall of
which we were riding. Here there was no snow; but immediately beyond was a
deep bank, through which we dragged our horses with considerable effort.
We then immediately struck upon a stream, which gathered itself rapidly,
and descended quick; and the valley did not preserve the open character of
the other side, appearing below to form a canon. We therefore climbed one
of the peaks on the right, leaving our horses below; but we were so much
shut up that we did not obtain an extensive view, and what we saw was not
very satisfactory, and awakened considerable doubt. The valley of the
stream pursued a northwesterly direction, appearing below to turn sharply
to the right, beyond which further view was cut off. It was, nevertheless,
resolved to continue our road the next day down this valley, which we
trusted still would prove that of the middle stream between the two great
rivers. Towards the summit of this peak, the fields of snow were four or
five feet deep on the northern side; and we saw several large hares, which
had on their winter color, being white as the snow around them.

The winter day is short in the mountains, the sun having but a small space
of sky to travel over in the visible part above our horizon; and the
moment his rays are gone, the air is keenly cold. The interest of our work
had detained us long, and it was after nightfall when we reached the camp.

28th.--To-day we went through the pass with all the camp, and, after a
hard day's journey of twelve miles, encamped on a high point where the
snow had been blown off, and the exposed grass afforded a scanty pasture
for the animals. Snow and broken country together made our traveling
difficult; we were often compelled to make large circuits, and ascend the
highest and most exposed ridges, in order to avoid snow, which in other
places was banked up to a great depth.

During the day a few Indians were seen circling around us on snow-shoes,
and skimming along like birds; but we could not bring them within speaking
distance. Godey, who was a little distance from the camp, had sat down to
tie his moccasins, when he heard a low whistle near, and, looking up, saw
two Indians half hiding behind a rock about forty yards distant; they
would not allow him to approach, but breaking into a laugh, skimmed off
over the snow, seeming to have no idea of the power of firearms, and
thinking themselves perfectly safe when beyond arm's length.

To-night we did not succeed in getting the howitzer into camp. This was
the most laborious day we had yet passed through, the steep ascents and
deep snow exhausting both men and animals. Our single chronometer had
stopped during the day, and its error in time occasioned the loss of an
eclipse of a satellite this evening. It had not preserved the rate with
which we started from the Dalles, and this will account for the absence of
longitudes along this interval of our journey.

29th.--From this height we could see, at a considerable distance below,
yellow spots in the valley, which indicated that there was not much snow.
One of these places we expected to reach to-night; and some time being
required to bring up the gun, I went ahead with Mr. Fitzpatrick and a few
men, leaving the camp to follow, in charge of Mr. Preuss. We followed a
trail down a hollow where the Indians had descended, the snow being so
deep that we never came near the ground; but this only made our descent
the easier, and, when we reached a little affluent to the river, at the
bottom, we suddenly found ourselves in presence of eight or ten Indians.
They seemed to be watching our motions, and, like the others, at first
were indisposed to let us approach, ranging themselves like birds on a
fallen log, on the hill-side above our heads, where, being out of our
reach, they thought themselves safe. Our friendly demeanor reconciled
them, and, when we got near enough, they immediately stretched out to us
handfuls of pine-nuts, which seemed an exercise of hospitality. We made
them a few presents, and, telling us that their village was a few miles
below, they went on to let their people know what we were. The principal
stream still running through an impracticable canon, we ascended a very
steep hill, which proved afterwards the last and fatal obstacle to our
little howitzer, which was finally abandoned at this place. We passed
through a small meadow a few miles below, crossing the river, which depth,
swift current, and rock, made it difficult to ford; and, after a few more
miles of very difficult trail, issued into a larger prairie bottom, at the
farther end of which we encamped, in a position rendered strong by rocks
and trees. The lower parts of the mountain were covered with the nut-pine.
Several Indians appeared on the hill-side, reconnoitring the camp, and
were induced to come in; others came in during the afternoon; and in the
evening we held a council. The Indians immediately made it clear that the
waters on which we were also belonged to the Great Basin, in the edge of
which we had been since the 17th of December; and it became evident that
we had still the great ridge on the left to cross before we could reach
the Pacific waters.

We explained to the Indians that we were endeavoring to find a passage
across the mountains into the country of the whites, whom we were going to
see; and told them that we wished them to bring us a guide, to whom we
would give presents of scarlet cloth, and other articles, which were shown
to them. They looked at the reward we offered, and conferred with each
other, but pointed to the snow on the mountain, and drew their hands
across their necks, and raised them above their heads, to show the depth;
and signified that it was impossible for us to get through. They made
signs that we must go to the southward, over a pass through a lower range,
which they pointed out: there, they said, at the end of one day's travel,
we would find people who lived near a pass in the great mountain; and to
that point they engaged to furnish us a guide. They appeared to have a
confused idea, from report, of whites who lived on the other side of the
mountain; and once, they told us, about two years ago, a party of twelve
men like ourselves had ascended their river, and crossed to the other
waters. They pointed out to us where they had crossed; but then, they
said, it was summer time; but now it would be impossible. I believe that
this was a party led by Mr. Chiles, one of the only two men whom I know to
have passed through the California mountains from the interior of the
Basin--Walker being the other; and both were engaged upwards of twenty
days, in the summer time, in getting over. Chiles's destination was the
bay of San Francisco, to which he descended by the Stanislaus river; and
Walker subsequently informed me that, like myself, descending to the
southward on a more eastern line, day after day he was searching for the
Buenaventura, thinking that he had found it with every new stream, until,
like me, he abandoned all idea of its existence, and, turning abruptly to
the right, crossed the great chain. These were both western men, animated
with the spirit of exploratory enterprise which characterizes that people.

The Indians brought in during the evening an abundant supply of pine-nuts,
which we traded from them. When roasted, their pleasant flavor made them
an agreeable addition to our now scanty store of provisions, which were
reduced to a very low ebb. Our principal stock was in peas, which it is
not necessary to say contain scarcely any nutriment. We had still a little
flour left, some coffee, and a quantity of sugar, which I reserved as a
defence against starvation.

The Indians informed us that at certain seasons they have fish in their
waters, which we supposed to be salmon-trout: for the remainder of the
year they live upon the pine-nuts, which form their great winter
subsistence--a portion being always at hand, shut up in the natural
storehouse of the cones. At present, they were presented to us as a whole
people living upon this simple vegetable.

The other division of the party did not come in to-night, but encamped in
the upper meadow, and arrived the next morning. They had not succeeded in
getting the howitzer beyond the place mentioned, and where it had been
left by Mr. Preuss, in obedience to my orders; and, in anticipation of the
snow-banks and snow-fields still ahead, foreseeing the inevitable
detention to which it would subject us, I reluctantly determined to leave
it there for the time. It was of the kind invented by the French for the
mountain part of their war in Algiers; and the distance it had come with
us proved how well it was adapted to its purpose. We left it, to the great
sorrow of the whole party, who were grieved to part with a companion which
had made the whole distance from St. Louis, and commanded respect for us
on some critical occasions, and which might be needed for the same purpose
again.

30th.--Our guide, who was a young man, joined us this morning; and,
leaving our encampment late in the day, we descended the river, which
immediately opened out into a broad valley, furnishing good traveling
ground. In a short distance we passed the village, a collection of straw
huts; and a few miles below, the guide pointed out the place where the
whites had been encamped, before they entered the mountain. With our late
start we made but ten miles, and encamped on the low river-bottom, where
there was no snow, but a great deal of ice; and we cut piles of long grass
to lay under our blankets, and fires were made of large dry willows,
groves of which wooded the stream. The river took here a northeasterly
direction, and through a spur from the mountains on the left was the gap
where we were to pass the next day.

31st.--We took our way over a gently rising ground, the dividing ridge
being tolerably low; and traveling easily along a broad trail, in twelve
or fourteen miles reached the upper part of the pass, when it began to
snow thickly, with very cold weather. The Indians had only the usual
scanty covering, and appeared to suffer greatly from the cold. All left
us, except our guide. Half hidden by the storm, the mountains looked
dreary; and, as night began to approach, the guide showed great reluctance
to go forward. I placed him between two rifles, for the way began to be
difficult. Traveling a little farther, we struck a ravine, which the
Indian said would conduct us to the river; and as the poor fellow suffered
greatly, shivering in the snow which fell upon his naked skin, I would not
detain him any longer; and he ran off to the mountain, where he said was a
hut near by. He had kept the blue and scarlet cloth I had given him
tightly rolled up, preferring rather to endure the cold than to get them
wet. In the course of the afternoon, one of the men had his foot
frostbitten; and about dark we had the satisfaction to reach the bottoms
of a stream timbered with large trees, among which we found a sheltered
camp, with an abundance of such grass as the season afforded for the
animals. We saw before us, in descending from the pass, a great continuous
range, along which stretched the valley of the river; the lower parts
steep, and dark with pines, while above it was hidden in clouds of snow.
This we felt instantly satisfied was the central ridge of the Sierra
Nevada, the great California mountain, which only now intervened between
us and the waters of the bay. We had made a forced march of 26 miles, and
three mules had given out on the road. Up to this point, with the
exception of two stolen by Indians, we had lost none of the horses which
had been brought from the Columbia river, and a number of these were still
strong and in tolerably good order. We had now 67 animals in the band.

We had scarcely lighted our fires, when the camp was crowded with nearly
naked Indians; some of them were furnished with long nets in addition to
bows, and appeared to have been out on the sage hills to hunt rabbits.
These nets were perhaps 30 to 40 feet long, kept upright in the ground by
slight sticks at intervals, and were made from a kind of wild hemp, very
much resembling in manufacture those common among the Indians of the
Sacramento valley. They came among us without any fear, and scattered
themselves about the fires, mainly occupied in gratifying their
astonishment. I was struck by the singular appearance of a row of about a
dozen, who were sitting on their haunches perched on a log near one of the
fires, with their quick sharp eyes following every motion.

We gathered together a few of the most intelligent of the Indians, and
held this evening an interesting council. I explained to them my
intentions. I told them that we had come from a very far country, having
been traveling now nearly a year, and that we were desirous simply to go
across the mountain into the country of the other whites. There were two
who appeared particularly intelligent--one, a somewhat old man. He told me
that, before the snows fell, it was six sleeps to the place where the
whites lived, but that now it was impossible to cross the mountain on
account of the deep snow; and showing us, as the others had done, that it
was over our heads, he urged us strongly to follow the course of the
river, which he said would conduct us to a lake in which there were many
large fish. There, he said, were many people; there was no snow on the
ground; and we might remain there until the spring. From their
descriptions, we were enabled to judge that we had encamped on the upper
water of the Salmon Trout river. It is hardly necessary to say that our
communication was only by signs, as we understood nothing of their
language; but they spoke, notwithstanding, rapidly and vehemently,
explaining what they considered the folly of our intentions, and urging us
to go down to the lake. _Tah-ve_, a word signifying snow, we very
soon learned to know, from its frequent repetition. I told him that the
men and the horses were strong, that we would break a road through the
snow; and spreading before him our bales of scarlet cloth, and trinkets,
showed him what we would give for a guide. It was necessary to obtain one,
if possible; for I had determined here to attempt the passage of the
mountain. Pulling a bunch of grass from the ground, after a short
discussion among themselves, the old man made us comprehend, that if we
could break through the snow, at the end of three days we would come down
upon grass, which he showed us would be about six inches high, and where,
the ground was entirely free. So far, he said, he had been in hunting for
elk; but beyond that (and he closed his eyes) he had seen nothing; but
there was one among them who had been to the whites, and, going out of the
lodge, he returned with a young man of very intelligent appearance. Here,
said he, is a young man who has seen the whites with his own eyes; and he
swore, first by the sky, and then by the ground, that what he said was
true. With a large present of goods, we prevailed upon this young man to
be our guide, and he acquired among us the name of Melo--a word signifying
friend, which they used very frequently. He was thinly clad, and nearly
barefoot; his moccasins being about worn out. We gave him skins to make a
new pair, and to enable him to perform his undertaking to us. The Indians
remained in the camp during the night, and we kept the guide and two
others to sleep in the lodge with us--Carson lying across the door, and
having made them comprehend the use of our fire arms.



FEBRUARY.


1st.--The snow, which had intermitted in the evening, commenced falling
again in the course of the night; and it snowed steadily all day. In the
morning I acquainted the men with my decision, and explained to them that
necessity required us to make a great effort to clear the mountains. I
reminded them of the beautiful valley of the Sacramento, with which they
were familiar from the descriptions of Carson, who had been there some
fifteen years ago, and who, in our late privations, had delighted us in
speaking of its rich pastures and abounding game, and drew a vivid
contrast between its summer climate, less than a hundred miles distant,
and the falling snow around us. I informed them (and long experience had
given them confidence in my observations and good instruments) that almost
directly west, and only about 70 miles distant, was the great farming
establishment of Captain Sutter--a gentleman who had formerly lived in
Missouri, and, emigrating to this country, had become the possessor of a
principality. I assured them that, from the heights of the mountain before
us, we should doubtless see the valley of the Sacramento river, and with
one effort place ourselves again in the midst of plenty. The people
received this decision with the cheerful obedience which had always
characterized them, and the day was immediately devoted to the
preparations necessary to enable us to carry it into effect. Leggins,
moccasins, clothing--all were put into the best state to resist the cold.
Our guide was not neglected. Extremity of suffering might make him desert;
we therefore did the best we could for him. Leggins, moccasins, some
articles of clothing, and a large green blanket, in addition to the blue
and scarlet cloth, were lavished upon him, and to his great and evident
contentment. He arrayed himself in all his colors, and, clad in green,
blue, and scarlet, he made a gay-looking Indian; and, with his various
presents, was probably richer and better clothed than any of his tribe had
ever been before.

I have already said that our provisions were very low; we had neither
tallow nor grease of any kind remaining, and the want of salt became one
of our greatest privations. The poor dog which had been found in the Bear
River valley, and which had been a _compagnon de voyage_ ever since,
had now become fat, and the mess to which it belonged, requested
permission to kill it. Leave was granted. Spread out on the snow, the meat
looked very good; and it made a strengthening meal for the greater part of
the camp. Indians brought in two or three rabbits during the day, which
were purchased from them.

The river was 40 to 70 feet wide, and now entirely frozen over. It was
wooded with large cottonwood, willow, and _grain de boeuf_. By
observation, the latitude of this encampment was 38 deg. 37' 18".

2d.--It had ceased snowing, and this morning the lower air was clear and
frosty; and six or seven thousand feet above, the peaks of the Sierra now
and then appeared among the rolling clouds, which were rapidly dispersing
before the sun. Our Indian shook his head as he pointed to the icy
pinnacles, shooting high up into the sky, and seeming almost immediately
above us. Crossing the river on the ice, and leaving it immediately, we
commenced the ascent of the mountain along the valley of a tributary
stream. The people were unusually silent, for every man knew that our
enterprise was hazardous; and the issue doubtful.

The snow deepened rapidly, and it soon became necessary to break a road.
For this service, a party of ten was formed, mounted on the strongest
horses, each man in succession opening the road on foot, or on horseback,
until himself and his horse became fatigued, when he stepped aside, and,
the remaining number passing ahead, he took his station in the rear.
Leaving this stream, and pursuing a very direct course, we passed over an
intervening ridge to the river we had left. On the way we passed two low
huts entirely covered with snow, which might very easily have escaped
observation. A family was living in each; and the only trail I saw in the
neighborhood was from the door-hole to a nut-pine tree near, which
supplied them with food and fuel. We found two similar huts on the creek
where we next arrived; and, traveling a little higher up, encamped on its
banks in about four feet depth of snow. Carson found near, an open hill-
side, where the wind and the sun had melted the snow, leaving exposed
sufficient bunch-grass for the animals to-night.

The nut-pines were now giving way to heavy timber, and there were some
immense pines on the bottom, around the roots of which the sun had melted
away the snow; and here we made our camp and built huge fires. To-day we
had traveled 16 miles, and our elevation above the sea was 6,760 feet.

3d.--Turning our faces directly towards the main chain, we ascended an
open hollow along a small tributary to the river, which, according to the
Indians, issues from a mountain to the south. The snow was so deep in the
hollow, that we were obliged to travel along the steep hill-sides, and
over spurs, where the wind and sun had in places lessened the snow, and
where the grass, which appeared to be in good quality along the sides of
the mountains, was exposed. We opened our road in the same way as
yesterday, but made only seven miles, and encamped by some springs at the
foot of a high and steep hill, by which the hollow ascended to another
basin in the mountain. The little stream below was entirely buried in
snow. The springs were shaded by the boughs of a lofty cedar, which here
made its first appearance; the usual height was 120 to 130 feet, and one
that was measured near by was six feet in diameter.

There being no grass exposed here, the horses were sent back to that which
we had seen a few miles below. We occupied the remainder of the day in
beating down a road to the foot of the hill, a mile or two distant; the
snow being beaten down when moist, in the warm part of the day, and then
hard frozen at night, made a foundation that would bear the weight of the
animals next morning. During the day several Indians joined us on snow-
shoes. These were made of a circular hoop, about a foot in diameter, the
interior space being filled with an open network of bark.

4th.--I went ahead early with two or three men, each with a led horse to
break the road. We were obliged to abandon the hollow entirely, and work
along the mountain-side, which was very steep, and the snow covered with
an icy crust. We cut a footing as we advanced, and trampled a road through
for the animals; but occasionally one plunged outside the trail, and
slided along the field to the bottom, a hundred yards below. Late in the
day we reached another bench in the hollow, where, in summer, the stream
passed over a small precipice. Here was a short distance of dividing
ground between the two ridges, and beyond an open basin, some ten miles
across, whose bottom presented a field of snow. At the further or western
side rose the middle crest of the mountain, a dark-looking ridge of
volcanic rock.

The summit line presented a range of naked peaks, apparently destitute of
snow and vegetation; but below, the face of the whole country was covered
with timber of extraordinary size.

Towards a pass which the guide indicated here, we attempted in the
afternoon to force a road; but after a laborious plunging through two or
three hundred yards, our best horses gave out, entirely refusing to make
any further effort, and, for the time, we were brought to a stand. The
guide informed us that we were entering the deep snow, and here began the
difficulties of the mountain; and to him, and almost to all, our
enterprise seemed hopeless. I returned a short distance back, to the break
in the hollow, where I met Mr. Fitzpatrick.

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 the packs; and all the
line of road between this and the springs was strewed with camp-stores and
equipage, and horses floundering in snow. I therefore 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. Here was a small spot of level ground,
protected on one side by the mountain, and on the other sheltered by a
little ridge of rock. It was an open grove of pines, which assimilated in
size to the grandeur of the mountain, being frequently six feet in
diameter.

To-night we had no shelter, but we made a large fire around the trunk of
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 deg.. A strong
wind, which sprang up at sundown, made it intensely cold; and this was one
of the bitterest nights during the journey.

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," 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, and the old Indian haranguing, we presented a
group of very serious faces.

5th.--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 of my blankets. We missed
him a few minutes afterwards, and never saw him again. He had deserted.
His bad faith and treachery were in perfect keeping with the estimate of
Indian character, which a long intercourse with this people had gradually
forced upon my mind.

While a portion of the camp were occupied in bringing up the baggage to
this point, the remainder were busied in making sledges and snow-shoes. I
had determined to explore the mountain ahead, and the sledges were to be
used in transporting the baggage.

The mountains here consisted wholly of a white micaceous granite. The day
was perfectly clear, and, while the sun was in the sky, warm and pleasant.

By observation our latitude was 38 deg. 42' 26"; and elevation by the boiling
point, 7,400 feet.

6th.--Accompanied by Mr. Fitzpatrick, I set out to-day with a
reconnoitring party on snow-shoes. We marched all in single file,
trampling the snow as heavily as we could. Crossing the open basin, in a
march of about ten miles we reached the top of one of the peaks, to the
left of the pass indicated by our guide. Far below us, dimmed by the
distance, was a large snowless valley, bounded on the western side, at the
distance of about a hundred miles, by a low range of mountains, which
Carson recognised with delight as the mountains bordering the coast.
"There," said he, "is the little mountain--it is fifteen years since I saw
it; but I am just as sure as if I had seen it yesterday." Between us,
then, and this low coast range was the valley of the Sacramento; and no
one who had not accompanied us through the incidents of our life for the
last few months could realize the delight with which at last we looked
down upon it. At the distance of apparently 30 miles beyond us were
distinguished spots of prairie; and a dark line which could be traced with
the glass, was imagined to be the course of the river; but we were
evidently at a great height above the valley, and between us and the
plains extended miles of snowy fields and broken ridges of pine-covered
mountains.

It was late in the day when we turned towards the camp; and it grew
rapidly cold as it drew towards night. One of the men became fatigued, and
his feet began to freeze, and building a fire in the trunk of a dry old
cedar, Mr. Fitzpatrick remained with him until his clothes could be dried,
and he was in a condition to come on. After a day's march of 20 miles, we
straggled into the camp one after another, at nightfall; the greater
number excessively fatigued, only two of the party having ever traveled on
snow-shoes before.

All our energies are now directed to getting our animals across the snow;
and it was supposed that after all the baggage had been drawn with the
sleighs over the trail we had made, it would be sufficiently hard to bear
our animals. At several places between this point and the ridge, we had
discovered some grassy spots, where the wind and sun had dispersed the
snow from the sides of the hills, and these were to form resting-places to
support the animals for a night in their passage across. On our way across
we had set on fire several broken stumps, and dried trees, to melt holes
in the snow for the camps. Its general depth was five feet; but we passed
over places where it was 20 feet deep, as shown by the trees. With one
party drawing sleighs loaded with baggage, I advanced to-day about four
miles along the trail, and encamped at the first grassy spot, where we
expected to bring our horses. Mr. Fitzpatrick, with another party,
remained behind, to form an intermediate station between us and the
animals.

8th.--The night has been extremely cold; but perfectly still, and
beautifully clear. Before the sun appeared this morning, the thermometer
was 3 deg. below zero; 1 deg. higher, when his rays struck the lofty peaks; and 0 deg.
when they reached our camp.

Scenery and weather, combined, must render these mountains beautiful in
summer; the purity and deep-blue color of the sky are singularly
beautiful; the days are sunny and bright, and even warm in the noon hours;
and if we could be free from the many anxieties that oppress us, even now
we would be delighted here; but our provisions are getting fearfully
scant. Sleighs arrived with baggage about ten o'clock; and leaving a
portion of it here, we continued on for a mile and a half, and encamped at
the foot of a long hill on this side of the open bottom.

Bernier and Godey, who yesterday morning had been sent to ascend a higher
peak, got in, hungry and fatigued. They confirmed what we had already
seen. Two other sleighs arrived in the afternoon; and the men being
fatigued, I gave them all tea and sugar. Snow clouds began to rise in the
S.S.W.; and, apprehensive of a storm, which would destroy our road, I sent
the people back to Mr. Fitzpatrick, with directions to send for the
animals in the morning. With me remained Mr. Preuss, Mr. Talbot, and
Carson, with Jacob.

Elevation of the camp, by the boiling point, is 7,920 feet.

9th.--During the night the weather changed, the wind rising to a gale, and
commencing to snow before daylight; before morning the trail was covered.
We remained quiet in camp all day, in the course of which the weather
improved. Four sleighs arrived towards evening, with the bedding of the
men. We suffer much from the want of salt; and all the men are becoming
weak from insufficient food.

10th.--Taplin was sent back with a few men to assist Mr. Fitzpatrick; and
continuing on with three sleighs carrying a part of the baggage, we had
the satisfaction to encamp within two and a half miles of the head of the
hollow, and at the foot of the last mountain ridge. Here two large trees
had been set on fire, and in the holes, where the snow had been melted
away, we found a comfortable camp.

The wind kept the air filled with snow during the day; the sky was very
dark in the southwest, though elsewhere very clear. The forest here has a
noble appearance; and tall cedar is abundant; its greatest height being
130 feet, and circumference 20, three or four feet above the ground; and
here I see for the first time the white pine, of which there are some
magnificent trees. Hemlock spruce is among the timber, occasionally as
large as eight feet in diameter, four feet above the ground; but, in
ascending, it tapers rapidly to less than one foot at the height of eighty
feet. I have not seen any higher than 130 feet, and the slight upper part
is frequently broken off by the wind. The white spruce is frequent; and
the red pine (_pinus colorado_ of the Mexicans) which constitutes the
beautiful forest along the banks of the Sierra Nevada to the northward, is
here the principal tree, not attaining a greater height than 140 feet,
though with sometimes a diameter of 10. Most of these trees appeared to
differ slightly from those of the same kind on the other side of the
continent.

The elevation of the camp by the boiling point, is 8,050 feet. We are now
1,000 feet above the level of the South Pass in the Rocky mountains; and
still we are not done ascending. The top of a flat ridge near was bare of
snow, and very well sprinkled with bunch-grass, sufficient to pasture the
animals two or three days; and this was to be their main point of support.
This ridge is composed of a compact trap, or basalt of a columnar
structure; over the surface are scattered large boulders of porous trap.
The hills are in many places entirely covered with small fragments of
volcanic rock.

Putting on our snow-shoes, we spent the afternoon in exploring a road
ahead. The glare of the snow, combined with great fatigue, had rendered
many of the people nearly blind; but we were fortunate in having some
black silk handkerchiefs, which, worn as veils, very much relieved the
eye.

11th.--High wind continued, and our trail this morning was nearly
invisible--here and there indicated by a little ridge of snow. Our
situation became tiresome and dreary, requiring a strong exercise of
patience and resolution.

In the evening I received a message from Mr. Fitzpatrick, acquainting me
with the utter failure of his attempt to get our mules and horses over the
snow--the half-hidden trail had proved entirely too slight to support
them, and they had broken through, and were plunging about or lying half
buried in snow. He was occupied in endeavoring to get them back to his
camp; and in the mean time sent to me for further instructions. I wrote to
him to send the animals immediately back to their old pastures; and, after
having made mauls and shovels, turn in all the strength of his party to
open and beat a road through the snow, strengthening it with branches and
boughs of the pines.

12th.--We made mauls, and worked hard at our end of the road all day. The
wind was high, but the sun bright, and the snow thawing. We worked down
the face of the hill, to meet the people at the other end. Towards sundown
it began to grow cold, and we shouldered our mauls and trudged back to
camp.

13th.--We continued to labor on the road; and in the course of the day had
the satisfaction to see the people working down the face of the opposite
hill, about three miles distant. During the morning we had the pleasure of
a visit from Mr. Fitzpatrick, with the information that all was going on
well. A party of Indians had passed on snow-shoes, who said they were
going to the western side of the mountain after fish. This was an
indication that the salmon were coming up the streams; and we could hardly
restrain our impatience as we thought of them, and worked with increased
vigor.

The meat train did not arrive this evening, and I gave Godey leave to kill
our little dog, (Tlamath,) which he prepared in Indian fashion; scorching
off the hair, and washing the skin with soap and snow, and then cutting it
up into pieces, which were laid on the snow. Shortly afterwards, the
sleigh arrived with a supply of horse-meat; and we had to-night an
extraordinary dinner--pea-soup, mule, and dog.

14th.--The dividing ridge of the Sierra is in sight from this encampment.
Accompanied by Mr. Preuss, I ascended to-day the highest peak to the
right; from which we had a beautiful view of a mountain lake at our feet,
about fifteen miles in length, and so entirely surrounded by mountains
that we could not discover an outlet. We had taken with us a glass; but
though we enjoyed an extended view, the valley was half hidden in mist, as
when we had seen it before. Snow could be distinguished on the higher
parts of the coast mountains; eastward, as far as the eye could extend, it
ranged over a terrible mass of broken snowy mountains, fading off blue in
the distance. The rock composing the summit consists of a very coarse,
dark, volcanic conglomerate; the lower parts appeared to be of a slaty
structure. The highest trees were a few scattering cedars and aspens. From
the immediate foot of the peak, we were two hours reaching the summit, and
one hour and a quarter in descending. The day had been very bright, still,
and clear, and spring seems to be advancing rapidly. While the sun is in
the sky, the snow melts rapidly, and gushing springs cover the face of the
mountain in all the exposed places; but their surface freezes instantly
with the disappearance of the sun.

I obtained to-night some observations; and the result from these, and
others made during our stay, gives for the latitude 38 deg. 41' 57", longitude
120 deg. 25' 57", and rate of the chronometer 25.82".

16th.--We had succeeded in getting our animals safely to the first grassy
hill; and this morning I started with Jacob on a reconnoitring expedition
beyond the mountain. We traveled along the crests of narrow ridges,
extending down from the mountain in the direction of the valley, from
which the snow was fast melting away. On the open spots was tolerably good
grass; and I judged we should succeed in getting the camp down by way of
these. Towards sundown we discovered some icy spots in a deep hollow; and,
descending the mountain, we encamped on the head-water of a little creek,
where at last the water found its way to the Pacific.

The night was clear and very long. We heard the cries of some wild
animals, which had been attracted by our fire, and a flock of geese passed
over during the night. Even these strange sounds had something pleasant to
our senses in this region of silence and desolation.

We started again early in the morning. The creek acquired a regular
breadth of about 20 feet, and we soon began to hear the rushing of the
water below the icy surface, over which we traveled to avoid the snow; a
few miles below we broke through, where the water was several feet deep,
and halted to make a fire and dry our clothes. We continued a few miles
farther, walking being very laborious without snow-shoes.

I was now perfectly satisfied that we had struck the stream on which Mr.
Sutler lived; and, turning about, made a hard push, and reached the camp
at dark. Here we had the pleasure to find all the remaining animals, 57 in
number, safely arrived at the grassy hill near the camp; and here, also,
we were agreeably surprised with the sight of an abundance of salt. Some
of the horse-guard had gone to a neighboring hut for pine nuts, and
discovered unexpectedly a large cake of very white fine-grained salt,
which the Indians told them they had brought from the other side of the
mountain; they used it to eat with their pine nuts, and readily sold it
for goods.

On the 19th, the people were occupied in making a road and bringing up the
baggage; and, on the afternoon of the next day, _February_ 20, 1844,
we encamped, with the animals and all the _materiel_ of the camp, on
the summit of the PASS in the dividing ridge, 1,000 miles by our traveled
road from the Dalles to the Columbia.

The people, who had not yet been to this point, climbed the neighboring
peak to enjoy a look at the valley.

The temperature of boiling water gave for the elevation of the encampment,
9,338 feet above the sea.

This was 2,000 feet higher than the South Pass in the Rocky mountains, and
several peaks in view rose several thousand feet still higher. Thus, at
the extremity of the continent, and near the coast, the phenomenon was
seen of a range of mountains still higher than the great Rocky mountains
themselves. This extraordinary fact accounts for the Great Basin, and
shows that there must be a system of small lakes and rivers here scattered
over a flat country, and which the extended and lofty range of the Sierra
Nevada prevents from escaping to the Pacific ocean. Latitude 38 deg. 44';
longitude 120 deg. 28'.

Thus the Pass in the Sierra Nevada, which so well deserves its name of
Snowy mountain, is eleven degrees west and about four degrees south of the
South Pass.

21st.--We now considered ourselves victorious over the mountain; having
only the descent before us, and the valley under our eyes, we felt strong
hope that we should force our way down. But this was a case in which the
descent was _not_ facile. Still deep fields of snow lay between them,
and there was a large intervening space of rough-looking mountains,
through which we had yet to wind our way. Carson roused me this morning
with an early fire, and we were all up long before day, in order to pass
the snow-fields before the sun should render the crust soft. We enjoyed
this morning a scene at sunrise, which even here was unusually glorious
and beautiful. Immediately above the eastern mountains was repeated a
cloud-formed mass of purple ranges, bordered with bright yellow gold; the
peaks shot up into a narrow line of crimson cloud, above which the air was
filled with a greenish orange; and over all was the singular beauty of the
blue sky. Passing along a ridge which commanded the lake on our right, of
which we began to discover an outlet through a chasm on the west, we
passed over alternating open ground and hard-crusted snow-fields which
supported the animals, and encamped on the ridge, after a journey of six
miles. The grass was better than we had yet seen, and we were encamped in
a clump of trees 20 or 30 feet high, resembling white pine. With the
exception of these small clumps, the ridges were bare; and, where the snow
found the support of the trees, the wind had blown it up into banks 10 or
15 feet high. It required much care to hunt out a practicable way, as the
most open places frequently led to impassable banks.

We had hard and doubtful labor yet before us, as the snow appeared to be
heavier where the timber began further down, with few open spots.
Ascending a height, we traced out the best line we could discover for the
next day's march, and had at least the consolation to see that the
mountain descended rapidly. The day had been one of April--gusty, with a
few occasional flakes of snow--which, in the afternoon, enveloped the
upper mountain in clouds. We watched them anxiously, as now we dreaded a
snow-storm. Shortly afterwards we heard the roll of thunder, and, looking
towards the valley, found it enveloped in a thunder-storm. For us, as
connected with the idea of summer, it had a singular charm, and we watched
its progress with excited feelings until nearly sunset, when the sky
cleared off brightly, and we saw a shining line of water directing its
course towards another, a broader and larger sheet. We knew that these
could be no other than the Sacramento and the Bay of San Francisco; but,
after our long wandering in rugged mountains, where so frequently we had
met with disappointments, and where the crossing of every ridge displayed
some unknown lake or river, we were yet almost afraid to believe that we
were at last to escape into the genial country of which we had heard so
many glowing descriptions, and dreaded to find some vast interior lake,
whose bitter waters would bring us disappointment. On the southern shore
of what appeared to be the bay could be traced the gleaming line where
entered another large stream; and again the Buenaventura rose up in our
minds.

Carson had entered the valley along the southern side of the bay, and
remembered perfectly to have crossed the mouth of a very large stream,
which they had been obliged to raft; but the country then was so entirely
covered with water from snow and rain, that he had been able to form no
correct impressions of water-courses.

We had the satisfaction to know that at least there were people below.
Fires were lit up in the valley just at night, appearing to be in answer
to ours; and these signs of life renewed, in some measure, the gayety of
the camp. They appeared so near, that we judged them to be among the
timber of some of the neighboring ridges; but, having them constantly in
view day after day, and night after night, we afterwards found them to be
fires that had been kindled by the Indians among the _tulares_, on
the shore of the bay, 80 miles distant.

Among the very few plants that appeared here, was the common blue flax.
To-night a mule was killed for food.

22d.--Our breakfast was over long before day. We took advantage of the
coolness of the early morning to get over the snow, which to-day occurred
in very deep banks among the timber; but we searched out the coldest
places, and the animals passed successfully with their loads over the hard
crust. Now and then the delay of making a road occasioned much labor and
loss of time. In the after part of the day, we saw before us a handsome
grassy ridge point; and, making a desperate push over a snow-field 10 to
15 feet deep, we happily succeeded in getting the camp across, and
encamped on the ridge, after a march of three miles. We had again the
prospect of a thunder-storm below, and to-night we killed another mule--
now our only resource from starvation.

We satisfied ourselves during the day that the lake had an outlet between
two ranges on the right; and with this, the creek on which I had encamped
probably effected a junction below. Between these, we were descending.

We continued to enjoy the same delightful weather; the sky of the same
beautiful blue, and such a sunset and sunrise as on our Atlantic coast we
could scarcely imagine. And here among the mountains, 9,000 feet above the
sea, we have the deep-blue sky and sunny climate of Smyrna and Palermo,
which a little map before me shows are in the same latitude.

The elevation above the sea, by the boiling point, is 8,565 feet.

23d.--This was our most difficult day; we were forced off the ridges by
the quantity of snow among the timber, and obliged to take to the mountain
sides, where occasionally rocks and a southern exposure afforded us a
chance to scramble along. But these were steep, and slippery with snow and
ice; and the tough evergreens of the mountain impeded our way, tore our
skins, and exhausted our patience. Some of us had the misfortune to wear
moccasins with _parfleche_ soles, so slippery that we could not keep
our feet, and generally crawled across the snow-beds. Axes and mauls were
necessary to-day, to make a road through the snow. Going ahead with Carson
to reconnoitre the road, we reached in the afternoon the river which made
the outlet of the lake. Carson sprang over, clear across a place where the
stream was compressed among rocks, but the _parfleche_ sole of my
moccasin glanced from the icy rock, and precipitated me into the river. It
was some few seconds before I could recover myself in the current, and
Carson, thinking me hurt, jumped in after me, and we both had an icy bath.
We tried to search awhile for my gun, which had been lost in the fall, but
the cold drove us out; and making a large fire on the bank, after we had
partially dried ourselves we went back to meet the camp. We afterwards
found that the gun had been slung under the ice which lined the banks of
the creek.

Using our old plan of breaking roads with alternate horses, we reached the
creek in the evening, and encamped on a dry open place in the ravine.

Another branch, which we had followed, here comes in on the left; and from
this point the mountain wall, on which we had traveled to-day, faces to
the south along the right bank of the river, where the sun appears to have
melted the snow; but the opposite ridge is entirely covered. Here, among
the pines, the hill-side produces but little grass--barely sufficient to
keep life in the animals. We had the pleasure to be rained upon this
afternoon; and grass was now our greatest solicitude. Many of the men
looked badly; and some this evening were giving out.

24th.--We rose at three in the morning for an astronomical observation,
and obtained for the place a lat. of 38 deg. 46' 58"; long. 120 deg. 34' 20". The
sky was clear and pure, with a sharp wind from the northeast, and the
thermometer 2 deg. below the freezing point.

We continued down the south face of the mountain; our road leading over
dry ground, we were able to avoid the snow almost entirely. In the course
of the morning, we struck a footpath, which we were generally able to
keep; and the ground was soft to our animals' feet, being sandy, or
covered with mould. Green grass began to make its appearance, and
occasionally we passed a hill scatteringly covered with it. The character
of the forest continued the same; and, among the trees, the pine with
sharp leaves and very large cones was abundant, some of them being noble
trees. We measured one that had 10 feet diameter, though the height was
not more than 130 feet. All along, the river was a roaring torrent, its
fall very great; and, descending with a rapidity to which we had long been
strangers, to our great pleasure oak-trees appeared on the ridge, and soon
became very frequent; on these I remarked great quantities of mistletoe.
Rushes began to make their appearance; and at a small creek where they
were abundant, one of the messes was left with the weakest horses, while
we continued on.

The opposite mountain-side was very steep and continuous--unbroken by
ravines, and covered with pines and snow; while on the side we were
traveling, innumerable rivulets poured down from the ridge. Continuing on,
we halted a moment at one of these rivulets, to admire some beautiful
evergreen-trees, resembling live-oak, which shaded the little stream. They
were forty to fifty feet high, and two in diameter, with a uniform tufted
top; and the summer green of their beautiful foliage, with the singing
birds, and the sweet summer wind which was whirling about the dry oak
leaves, nearly intoxicated us with delight; and we hurried on, filled with
excitement, to escape entirely from the horrid region of inhospitable
snow, to the perpetual spring of the Sacramento.

When we had traveled about ten miles, the valley opened a little to an oak
and pine bottom, through which ran rivulets closely bordered with rushes,
on which our half-starved horses fell with avidity; and here we made our
encampment. Here the roaring torrent has already become a river, and we
had descended to an elevation of 3,864 feet.

Along our road to-day the rock was a white granite, which appears to
constitute the upper part of the mountains on both the eastern and western
slopes; while between, the central is a volcanic rock.

Another horse was killed to-night, for food.

25th.--Believing that the difficulties of the road were passed, and
leaving Mr. Fitzpatrick to follow slowly, as the condition of the animals
required, I started ahead this morning with a party of eight, consisting
of myself, Mr. Preuss and Mr. Talbot, Carson, Derosier, Towns, Proue, and
Jacob. We took with us some of the best animals, and my intention was to
proceed as rapidly as possible to the house of Mr. Sutter, and return to
meet the party with a supply of provisions and fresh animals.

Continuing down the river, which pursued a very direct westerly course
through a narrow valley, with only a very slight and narrow bottom-land,
we made twelve miles, and encamped at some old Indian huts, apparently a
fishing-place on the river. The bottom was covered with trees of deciduous
foliage, and overgrown with vines and rushes. On a bench of the hill near
by, was a hill of fresh green grass, six inches long in some of the tufts
which I had the curiosity to measure. The animals were driven here; and I
spent part of the afternoon sitting on a large rock among them, enjoying
the pauseless rapidity with which they luxuriated on the unaccustomed
food.

The forest was imposing to-day in the magnificence of the trees; some of
the pines, bearing large cones, were 10 feet in diameter. Cedars also
abounded, and we measured one 281/2 feet in circumference, four feet from
the ground. This noble tree seemed here to be in its proper soil and
climate. We found it on both sides of the Sierra, but most abundant on the
west.

26th.--We continued to follow the stream, the mountains on either hand
increasing in height as we descended, and shutting up the river narrowly
in precipices, along which we had great difficulty to get our horses.

It rained heavily during the afternoon, and we were forced off the river
to the heights above; whence we descended, at night-fall, the point of a
spur between the river and a fork of nearly equal size, coming in from the
right. Here we saw, on the lower hills, the first flowers in bloom, which
occurred suddenly, and in considerable quantity--one of them a species of
_gilia_.

The current in both streams (rather torrents than rivers) was broken by
large boulders. It was late, and the animals fatigued; and not succeeding
to find a ford immediately, we encamped, although the hill-side afforded
but a few stray bunches of grass, and the horses, standing about in the
rain, looked very miserable.

27th.--We succeeded in fording the stream, and made a trail by which we
crossed the point of the opposite hill, which, on the southern exposure,
was prettily covered with green grass, and we halted a mile from our last
encampment. The river was only about 60 feet wide, but rapid, and
occasionally deep, foaming among boulders, and the water beautifully
clear. We encamped on the hill-slope, as there was no bottom level, and
the opposite ridge is continuous, affording no streams.

We had with us a large kettle; and a mule being killed here, his head was
boiled in it for several hours, and made a passable soup for famished
people.

Below, precipices on the river forced us to the heights, which we ascended
by a steep spur 2,000 feet high. My favorite horse, Proveau, had become
very weak, and was scarcely able to bring himself to the top. Traveling
here was good, except in crossing the ravines, which were narrow, steep,
and frequent. We caught a glimpse of a deer, the first animal we had seen;
but did not succeed in approaching him. Proveau could not keep up, and I
left Jacob to bring him on, being obliged to press forward with the party,
as there was no grass in the forest. We grew very anxious as the day
advanced and no grass appeared, for the lives of our animals depended on
finding it to-night. They were in just such a condition that grass and
repose for the night enabled them to get on the next day. Every hour we
had been expecting to see open out before us the valley, which, from the
mountain above, seemed almost at our feet. A new and singular shrub, which
had made its appearance since crossing the mountain, was very frequent to-
day. It branched out near the ground, forming a clump eight to ten feet
high, with pale-green leaves, of an oval form; and the body and branches
had a naked appearance, as if stripped of the bark, which is very smooth
and thin, of a chocolate color, contrasting well with the pale green of
the leaves. The day was nearly gone; we had made a hard day's march, and
found no grass. Towns became light-headed, wandering off into the woods
without knowing where he was going, and Jacob brought him back.

Near night-fall we descended into the steep ravine of a handsome creek 30
feet wide, and I was engaged in getting the horses up the opposite hill,
when I heard a shout from Carson, who had gone ahead a few hundred yards--
"Life yet," said he, as he came up, "life yet; I have found a hill-side
sprinkled with grass enough for the night." We drove along our horses, and
encamped at the place about dark, and there was just room enough to make a
place for shelter on the edge of the stream. Three horses were lost to-
day--Proveau; a fine young horse from the Columbia, belonging to Charles
Towns; and another Indian horse, which carried our cooking utensils. The
two former gave out, and the latter strayed off into the woods as we
reached the camp.

29th.--We lay shut up in the narrow ravine, and gave the animals a
necessary day; and men were sent back after the others. Derosier
volunteered to bring up Proveau, to whom he knew I was greatly attached,
as he had been my favorite horse on both expeditions. Carson and I climbed
one of the nearest mountains; the forest land still extended ahead, and
the valley appeared as far as ever. The pack-horse was found near the
camp; but Derosier did not get in.



MARCH.


1st.--Derosier did not get in during the night, and leaving him to follow,
as no grass remained here, we continued on over the uplands, crossing many
small streams, and camped again on the river, having made six miles. Here
we found the hillside covered (although lightly) with fresh green grass;
and from this time forward we found it always improving and abundant.

We made a pleasant camp on the river hill, where were some beautiful
specimens of the chocolate-colored shrub, which were a foot in diameter
near the ground, and fifteen to twenty feet high. The opposite ridge runs
continuously along, unbroken by streams. We are rapidly descending into
the spring, and we are leaving our snowy region far behind; every thing is
getting green; butterflies are swarming; numerous bugs are creeping out,
wakened from their winter's sleep; and the forest flowers are coming into
bloom. Among those which appeared most numerously to-day was
_dodecatheon dentatum_.

We began to be uneasy at Derosier's absence, fearing he might have been
bewildered in the woods. Charles Towns, who had not yet recovered his
mind, went to swim in the river, as if it were summer, and the stream
placid, when it was a cold mountain torrent foaming among the rocks. We
were happy to see Derosier appear in the evening. He came in, and, sitting
down by the fire, began to tell us where he had been. He imagined he had
been gone several days, and thought we were still at the camp where he had
left us; and we were pained to see that his mind was deranged. It appeared
that he had been lost in the mountain, and hunger and fatigue, joined to
weakness of body and fear of perishing in the mountains, had crazed him.
The times were severe when stout men lost their minds from extremity of
suffering--when horses died--and when mules and horses, ready to die of
starvation, were killed for food. Yet there was no murmuring or
hesitation.

A short distance below our encampment the river mountains terminated in
precipices, and, after a fatiguing march of only a few miles, we encamped
on a bench where there were springs, and an abundance of the freshest
grass. In the mean time, Mr. Preuss continued on down the river, and,
unaware that we had encamped so early in the day, was lost. When night
arrived, and he did not come in, we began to understand what had happened
to him; but it was too late to make any search.

3d.--We followed Mr. Preuss' trail for a considerable distance along the
river, until we reached a place where he had descended to the stream below
and encamped. Here we shouted and fired guns, but received no answer; and
we concluded that he had pushed on down the stream. I determined to keep
out from the river, along which it was nearly impracticable to travel with
animals, until it should form a valley. At every step the country improved
in beauty; the pines were rapidly disappearing, and oaks became the
principal trees of the forest. Among these, the prevailing tree was the
evergreen oak, (which, by way of distinction, we call the _live-
oak_;) and with these occurred frequently a new species of oak bearing
a long slender acorn, from an inch to an inch and a half in length, which
we now began to see formed the principal vegetable food of the inhabitants
of this region. In a short distance we crossed a little rivulet, where
were two old huts, and near by were heaps of acorn hulls. The ground round
about was very rich, covered with an exuberant sward of grass; and we sat
down for a while in the shade of the oaks, to let the animals feed. We
repeated our shouts for Mr. Preuss; and this time were gratified with an
answer. The voice grew rapidly nearer, ascending from the river; but when
we expected to see him emerge, it ceased entirely. We had called up some
straggling Indian--the first we had met, although for two days back we had
seen tracks--who, mistaking us for his fellows, had been only undeceived
on getting close up. It would have been pleasant to witness his
astonishment; he would not have been more frightened had some of the old
mountain spirits they are so much afraid of suddenly appeared in his path.
Ignorant of the character of these people, we had now an additional cause
of uneasiness in regard to Mr. Preuss; he had no arms with him, and we
began to think his chance doubtful. We followed on a trail, still keeping
out from the river, and descended to a very large creek, dashing with
great velocity over a pre-eminently rocky bed, and among large boulders.
The bed had sudden breaks, formed by deep holes and ledges of rock running
across. Even here, it deserves the name of _Rock_ creek, which we
gave to it. We succeeded in fording it, and toiled about three thousand
feet up the opposite hill. The mountains now were getting sensibly lower;
but still there is no valley on the river, which presents steep and rocky
banks; but here, several miles from the river, the country is smooth and
grassy; the forest has no undergrowth; and in the open valleys of
rivulets, or around spring-heads, the low groves of live-oak give the
appearance of orchards in an old cultivated country. Occasionally we met
deer, but had not the necessary time for hunting. At one of these orchard-
grounds, we encamped about noon to make an effort for Mr. Preuss. One man
took his way along a spur leading into the river, in hope to cross his
trail; and another took our own back. Both were volunteers; and to the
successful man was promised a pair of pistols--not as a reward, but as a
token of gratitude for a service which would free us all from much
anxiety.

We had among our few animals a horse which was so much reduced, that, with
traveling, even the good grass could nor save him; and, having nothing to
eat, he was killed this afternoon. He was a good animal, and had made the
journey round from Fort Hall.

_Dodecatheon dentatum_ continued the characteristic plant in flower;
and the naked-looking shrub already mentioned continued characteristic,
beginning to put forth a small white blossom. At evening the men returned,
having seen or heard nothing of Mr. Preuss; and I determined to make a
hard push down the river the next morning and get ahead of him.

4th.--We continued rapidly along on a broad plainly-beaten trail, the mere
traveling and breathing the delightful air being a positive enjoyment. Our
road led along a ridge inclining to the river, and the air and the open
grounds were fragrant with flowering shrubs; and in the course of the
morning we issued on an open spur, by which we descended directly to the
stream. Here the river issues suddenly from the mountains, which hitherto
had hemmed it closely in; these now become softer, and change sensibly
their character; and at this point commences the most beautiful valley in
which we had ever traveled. We hurried to the river, on which we noticed a
small sand beach, to which Mr. Preuss would naturally have gone. We found
no trace of him, but, instead, were recent tracks of bare-footed Indians,
and little piles of muscle-shells, and old fires where they had roasted
the fish. We traveled on over the river grounds, which were undulating,
and covered with grass to the river brink. We halted to noon a few miles
beyond, always under the shade of the evergreen oaks, which formed open
groves on the bottoms.

Continuing our road in the afternoon, we ascended to the uplands, where
the river passes round a point of great beauty, and goes through very
remarkable dalles, in character resembling those of the Columbia. Beyond,
we again descended to the bottoms, where we found an Indian village,
consisting of two or three huts; we had come upon them suddenly, and the
people had evidently just run off. The huts were low and slight, made like
beehives in a picture, five or six feet high, and near each was a crate,
formed of interlaced branches and grass, in size and shape like a very
large hogshead. Each of these contained from six to nine bushels. These
were filled with the long acorns already mentioned, and in the huts were
several neatly-made baskets, containing quantities of the acorns roasted.
They were sweet and agreeably flavored, and we supplied ourselves with
about half a bushel, leaving one of our shirts, a handkerchief, and some
smaller articles, in exchange. The river again entered for a space among
the hills, and we followed a trail leading across a bend through a
handsome hollow behind. Here, while engaged in trying to circumvent a
deer, we discovered some Indians on a hill several hundred yards ahead,
and gave them a shout, to which they responded by loud and rapid talking
and vehement gesticulation, but made no stop, hurrying up the mountain as
fast as their legs could carry them. We passed on, and again encamped in a
grassy grove.

The absence of Mr. Preuss gave me great concern; and, for a large reward,
Derosier volunteered to go back on the trail. I directed him to search
along the river, traveling upward for the space of a day and a half, at
which time I expected he would meet Mr. Fitzpatrick, whom I requested to
aid in the search; at all events, he was to go no farther, but return to
this camp, where a _cache_ of provisions was made for him.

Continuing the next day down the river, we discovered three squaws in a
little bottom, and surrounded them before they could make their escape.
They had large conical baskets, which they were engaged in filling with a
small leafy plant (_erodium cicutarium_) just now beginning to bloom,
and covering the ground like a sward of grass. These did not make any
lamentations, but appeared very much impressed with our appearance,
speaking to us only in a whisper, and offering us smaller baskets of the
plant, which they signified to us was good to eat, making signs also that
it was to be cooked by the fire. We drew out a little cold horse-meat, and
the squaws made signs to us that the men had gone out after deer, and that
we could have some by waiting till they came in. We observed that the
horses ate with great avidity the herb which they had been gathering; and
here also, for the first time, we saw Indians eat the common grass--one of
the squaws pulling several tufts, and eating it with apparent relish.
Seeing our surprise, she pointed to the horses; but we could not well
understand what she meant, except, perhaps, that what was good for the one
was good for the other.

We encamped in the evening on the shore of the river, at a place where the
associated beauties of scenery made so strong an impression on us that we
gave it the name of the Beautiful Camp. The undulating river shore was
shaded with the live-oaks, which formed a continuous grove over the
country, and the same grassy sward extended to the edge of the water, and
we made our fires near some large granite masses which were lying among
the trees. We had seen several of the acorn _caches_ during the day,
and here there were two which were very large, containing each, probably,
ten bushels. Towards evening we heard a weak shout among the hills behind,
and had the pleasure to see Mr. Preuss descending towards the camp. Like
ourselves, he had traveled to-day 25 miles, but had seen nothing of
Derosier. Knowing, on the day he was lost, that I was determined to keep
the river as much as possible, he had not thought it necessary to follow
the trail very closely, but walked on, right and left, certain to find it
somewhere along the river, searching places to obtain good views of the
country. Towards sunset he climbed down towards the river to look for the
camp; but, finding no trail, concluded that we were behind, and walked
back till night came on, when, being very much fatigued, he collected
drift-wood and made a large fire among the rocks. The next day it became
more serious and he encamped again alone, thinking that we must have taken
some other course. To go back would have been madness in his weak and
starved condition, and onward towards the valley was his only hope, always
in expectation of reaching it soon. His principal means of subsistence
were a few roots, which the hunters call sweet onions, having very little
taste, but a good deal of nutriment, growing generally in rocky ground,
and requiring a good deal of labor to get, as he had only a pocket-knife.
Searching for these, he found a nest of big ants, which he let run on his
hand, and stripped them off in his mouth; these had an agreeable acid
taste. One of his greatest privations was the want of tobacco; and a
pleasant smoke at evening would have been a relief which only a voyageur
could appreciate. He tried the dried leaves of the live-oak, knowing that
those of other oaks were sometimes used as a substitute; but these were
too thick, and would not do. On the 4th he made seven or eight miles,
walking slowly along the river, avoiding as much as possible to climb the
hills. In little pools he caught some of the smallest kind of frogs, which
he swallowed, not so much in the gratification of hunger, as in the hope
of obtaining some strength. Scattered along the river were old fire-
places, where the Indians had roasted muscles and acorns; but though he
searched diligently, he did not there succeed in finding either. He had
collected firewood for the night, when he heard, at some distance from the
river, the barking of what he thought were two dogs, and walked in that
direction as quickly as he was able, hoping to find there some Indian hut,
but met only two wolves; and, in his disappointment, the gloom of the
forest was doubled.

Traveling the next day feebly down the river, he found five or six Indians
at the huts of which we have spoken: some were painting themselves black,
and others roasting acorns. Being only one man, they did not run off, but
received him kindly, and gave him a welcome supply of roasted acorns. He
gave them his pocket-knife in return, and stretched out his hand to one of
the Indians, who did not appear to comprehend the motion, but jumped back,
as if he thought he was about to lay hold of him. They seemed afraid of
him, not certain as to what he was.

Traveling on, he came to the place where we had found the squaws. Here he
found our fire still burning, and the tracks of the horses. The sight gave
him sudden hope and courage; and, following as fast as he could, joined us
at evening.

6th.--We continued on our road through the same surpassingly beautiful
country, entirely unequalled for the pasturage of stock by any thing we
had ever seen. Our horses had now become so strong that they were able to
carry us, and we traveled rapidly--over four miles an hour; four of us
riding every alternate hour. Every few hundred yards we came upon a little
band of deer; but we were too eager to reach the settlement, which we
momentarily expected to discover, to halt for any other than a passing
shot. In a few hours we reached a large fork, the northern branch of the
river, and equal in size to that which we had descended. Together they
formed a beautiful stream, 60 to 100 yards wide; which at first, ignorant
of the nature of the country through which that river ran, we took to be
the Sacramento.

We continued down the right bank of the river, traveling for a while over
a wooded upland, where we had the delight to discover tracks of cattle. To
the southwest was visible a black column of smoke, which we had frequently
noticed in descending, arising from the fires we had seen from the top of
the Sierra. From the upland we descended into broad groves on the river,
consisting of the evergreen, and a new species of a white-oak, with a
large tufted top, and three to six feet in diameter. Among these was no
brushwood; and the grassy surface gave to it the appearance of parks in an
old-settled country. Following the tracks of the horses and cattle, in
search of people, we discovered a small village of Indians. Some of these
had on shirts of civilized manufacture, but were otherwise naked, and we
could understand nothing from them: they appeared entirely astonished at
seeing us.

We made an acorn meal at noon, and hurried on; the valley being gay with
flowers, and some of the banks being absolutely golden with the
Californian poppy, (_eschescholtzia crocea_.) Here the grass was
smooth and green, and the groves very open; the large oaks throwing a
broad shade among sunny spots. Shortly afterwards we gave a shout at the
appearance, on a little bluff, of a neatly-built _adobe_ house, with
glass windows. We rode up, but, to our disappointment, found only Indians.
There was no appearance of cultivation, and we could see no cattle; and we
supposed the place had been abandoned. We now pressed on more eagerly than
ever: the river swept round a large bend to the right; the hills lowered
down entirely; and, gradually entering a broad valley, we came
unexpectedly into a large Indian village, where the people looked clean,
and wore cotton shirts and various other articles of dress. They
immediately crowded around us, and we had the inexpressible delight to
find one who spoke a little indifferent Spanish, but who at first
confounded us by saying there were no whites in the country; but just then
a well-dressed Indian came up, and made his salutations in very well-
spoken Spanish. In answer to our inquiries, he informed us that we were
upon the _Rio de los Americanos_, (the river of the Americans,) and
that it joined the Sacramento river about ten miles below. Never did a
name sound more sweetly! We felt ourselves among our countrymen; for the
name of _American_, in these distant parts, is applied to the
citizens of the United States. To our eager inquiries he answered, "I am a
_vaquero_ (cowherd) in the service of Capt. Sutter, and the people of
this _rancheria_ work for him." Our evident satisfaction made him
communicative; and he went on to say that Capt. Sutter was a very rich
man, and always glad to see his country people. We asked for his house.

He answered, that it was just over the hill before us; and offered, if we
would wait a moment, to take his horse and conduct us to it. We readily
accepted this civil offer. In a short distance we came in sight of the
fort; and, passing on the way the house of a settler on the opposite side,
(a Mr. Sinclair,) we forded the river; and in a few miles were met, a
short distance from the fort, by Capt. Sutter himself. He gave us a most
frank and cordial reception--conducted us immediately to his residence--
and under his hospitable roof we had a night of rest, enjoyment, and
refreshment, which none but ourselves could appreciate. But the party left
in the mountains, with Mr. Fitzpatrick, were to be attended to; and the
next morning, supplied with fresh horses and provisions, I hurried off to
meet them. On the second day we met, a few miles below the forks of the
Rio de los Americanos; and a more forlorn and pitiable sight than they
presented, cannot well be imagined. They were all on foot--each man, weak
and emaciated, leading a horse or mule as weak and emaciated as
themselves. They had experienced great difficulty in descending the
mountains, made slippery by rains and melting snows, and many horses fell
over precipices, and were killed; and with some were lost the _packs_
they carried. Among these, was a mule with the plants which we had
collected since leaving Fort Hall, along a line of 2,000 miles' travel.
Out of 67 horses and mules, with which we commenced crossing the Sierra,
only 33 reached the valley of the Sacramento, and they only in a condition
to be led along. Mr. Fitzpatrick and his party, traveling more slowly, had
been able to make some little exertion at hunting, and had killed a few
deer. The scanty supply was a great relief to them; for several had been
made sick by the strange and unwholesome food which the preservation of
life compelled them to use. We stopped and encamped as soon as we met; and
a repast of good beef, excellent bread, and delicious salmon, which I had
brought along, was their first relief from the sufferings of the Sierra,
and their first introduction to the luxuries of the Sacramento. It
required all our philosophy and forbearance to prevent _plenty_ from
becoming as hurtful to us now, as _scarcity_ had been before.

The next day, March 8th, we encamped at the junction of the two rivers,
the Sacramento and Americanos; and thus found the whole party in the
beautiful valley of the Sacramento. It was a convenient place for the
camp; and, among other things, was within reach of the wood necessary to
make the pack-saddles, which we should need on our long journey home, from
which we were farther distant now than we were four months before, when
from the Dalles of the Columbia we so cheerfully took up the homeward line
of march.

Captain Sutter emigrated to this country from the western part of Missouri
in 1838-39, and formed the first settlement in the valley, on a large
grant of land which he obtained from the Mexican Government. He had, at
first, some trouble with the Indians; but, by the occasional exercise of
well-timed authority, he has succeeded in converting them into a peaceable
and industrious people. The ditches around his extensive wheat-fields; the
making of the sun-dried bricks, of which his fort is constructed; the
ploughing, harrowing, and other agricultural operations, are entirely the
work of these Indians, for which they receive a very moderate
compensation--principally in shirts, blankets, and other articles of
clothing. In the same manner, on application to the chief of a village, he
readily obtains as many boys and girls as he has any use for. There were
at this time a number of girls at the fort, in training for a future
woolen factory; but they were now all busily engaged in constantly
watering the gardens, which the unfavorable dryness of the season rendered
necessary. The occasional dryness of some seasons, I understood to be the
only complaint of the settlers in this fertile valley, as it sometimes
renders the crops uncertain. Mr. Sutter was about making arrangements to
irrigate his lands by means of the Rio de los Americanos. He had this year
sown, and altogether by Indian labor, three hundred fanegas of wheat.

A few years since, the neighboring Russian establishment of Ross, being
about to withdraw from the country, sold to him a large number of stock,
with agricultural and other stores, with a number of pieces of artillery
and other munitions of war; for these, a regular yearly payment is made in
grain.

The fort is a quadrangular _adobe_ structure, mounting twelve pieces
of artillery, (two of them brass,) and capable of admitting a garrison of
a thousand men; this, at present, consists of forty Indians in uniform--
one of whom was always found on duty at the gate. As might naturally be
expected, the pieces are not in very good order. The whites in the
employment of Capt. Sutter, American, French, and German, amount, perhaps,
to thirty men. The inner wall is formed into buildings, comprising the
common quarters, with blacksmith and other workshops; the dwelling-house,
with a large distillery-house, and other buildings, occupying more the
centre of the area.

It is built upon a pond-like stream, at times a running creek
communicating with the Rio de los Americanos, which enters the Sacramento
about two miles below. The latter is here a noble river, about three
hundred yards broad, deep and tranquil, with several fathoms of water in
the channel, and its banks continuously timbered. There were two vessels
belonging to Capt. Sutter at anchor near the landing--one a large two-
masted lighter, and the other a schooner, which was shortly to proceed on
a voyage to Fort Vancouver for a cargo of goods.

Since his arrival, several other persons, principally Americans, have
established themselves in the valley. Mr. Sinclair, from whom I
experienced much kindness during my stay, is settled a few miles distant,
on the Rio de los Americanos. Mr. Coudrois, a gentleman from Germany, has
established himself on Feather river, and is associated with Capt. Sutter
in agricultural pursuits. Among other improvements, they are about to
introduce the cultivation of rape-seed, (_brassica rapus_,) which
there is every reason to believe is admirably adapted to the climate and
soil. The lowest average produce of wheat, as far as we can at present
know, is thirty-five fanegas for one sown; but, as an instance of its
fertility, it may be mentioned that Senor Valejo obtained, on a piece of
ground where sheep had been pastured, 800 fanegas for eight sown. The
produce being different in various places, a very correct idea cannot be
formed.

An impetus was given to the active little population by our arrival, as we
were in want of every thing. Mules, horses, and cattle, were to be
collected; the horse-mill was at work day and night, to make sufficient
flour; the blacksmith's shop was put in requisition for horse-shoes and
bridle-bits; and pack-saddles, ropes, and bridles, and all the other
little equipments of the camp, were again to be provided.

The delay thus occasioned was one of repose and enjoyment, which our
situation required, and, anxious as we were to resume our homeward
journey, was regretted by no one. In the mean time, I had the pleasure to
meet with Mr. Chiles, who was residing at a farm on the other side of the
river Sacramento, while engaged in the selection of a place for a
settlement, for which he had received the necessary grant of land from the
Mexican government.

It will be remembered that we had parted near the frontier of the states,
and that he had subsequently descended the valley of Lewis's fork, with a
party of ten or twelve men, with the intention of crossing the
intermediate mountains to the waters of the Bay of San Francisco. In the
execution of this design, and aided by subsequent information, he left the
Columbia at the mouth of _Malheur_ river, and, making his way to the
head-waters of the Sacramento with a part of his company, traveled down
that river to the settlements of Nueva Helvetia. The other party, to whom
he had committed his wagons, and mill-irons, and saws, took a course
further to the south, and the wagons and their contents were lost.

On the 22d we made a preparatory move, and encamped near the settlement of
Mr. Sinclair, on the left bank of the Rio de los Americanos. I had
discharged five of the party; Neal, the blacksmith, (an excellent workman,
and an unmarried man, who had done his duty faithfully, and had been of
very great service to me,) desired to remain, as strong inducements were
offered here to mechanics.

Although at considerable inconvenience to myself, his good conduct induced
me to comply with his request; and I obtained for him from Capt. Sutter, a
present compensation of two dollars and a half per diem, with a promise
that it should be increased to five, if he proved as good a workman as had
been represented. He was more particularly an agricultural blacksmith. The
other men were discharged with their own consent.

While we remained at this place, Derosier, one of our best men, whose
steady good conduct had won my regard, wandered off from the camp, and
never returned to it again, nor has he since been heard of.

24th.--We resumed our journey with an ample stock of provisions and a
large cavalcade of animals, consisting of 130 horses and mules, and about
30 head of cattle, five of which were milch-cows. Mr. Sutter furnished us
also with an Indian boy, who had been trained as a _vaquero_, and who
would be serviceable in managing our cavalcade, great part of which were
nearly as wild as buffalo, and who was, besides, very anxious to go along
with us. Our direct course home was east, but the Sierra would force us
south, above 500 miles of traveling, to a pass at the head of the San
Joaquin river. This pass, reported to be good, was discovered by Mr.
Joseph Walker, of whom I have already spoken, and whose name it might
therefore appropriately bear. To reach it, our course lay along the valley
of the San Joaquin--the river on our right, and the lofty wall of the
impassable Sierra on the left. From that pass we were to move
southeastwardly, having the Sierra then on the right, and reach the
"_Spanish trail_," deviously traced from one watering-place to
another, which constituted the route of the caravans from _Puebla de los
Angelos_, near the coast of the Pacific, to _Santa Fe_ of New
Mexico. From the pass to this trail was 150 miles. Following that trail
through a desert, relieved by some fertile plains indicated by the
recurrence of the term _vegas_, until it turned to the right to cross
the Colorado, our course would be northeast until we regained the latitude
we had lost in arriving at Eutah lake, and thence to the Rocky mountains
at the head of the Arkansas. This course of traveling, forced upon us by
the structure of the country, would occupy a computed distance of 2,000
miles before we reached the head of the Arkansas--not a settlement to be
seen upon it--and the names of places along it, all being Spanish or
Indian, indicated that it had been but little trod by _American_
feet. Though long, and not free from hardships, this route presented some
points of attraction, in tracing the Sierra Nevada--turning the Great
Basin, perhaps crossing its rim on the south--completely solving the
problem of any river, except the Colorado, from the Rocky mountains on
that part of our continent--and seeing the southern extremity of the
Great Salt lake, of which the northern part had been examined the year
before.

Taking leave of Mr. Sutter, who, with several gentlemen, accompanied us a
few miles on our way, we traveled about 18 miles, and encamped on the
_Rio de los Cosumnes_, a stream receiving its name from the Indians
who live in its valley. Our road was through a level country, admirably
suited to cultivation, and covered with groves of oak-trees, principally
the evergreen-oak, and a large oak already mentioned, in form like those
of the white-oak. The weather, which here, at this season, can easily be
changed from the summer heat of the valley to the frosty mornings and
bright days nearer the mountains, continued delightful for travelers, but
unfavorable to the agriculturists, whose crops of wheat began to wear a
yellow tinge from want of rain.

25th.--We traveled for 28 miles over the same delightful country as
yesterday, and halted in a beautiful bottom at the ford of the _Rio de
los Mukelemnes_, receiving its name from another Indian tribe living on
the river. The bottoms on the stream are broad, rich, and extremely
fertile, and the uplands are shaded with oak groves. A showy
_lupinus_, of extraordinary beauty, growing four to five feet in
height, and covered with spikes in bloom, adorned the banks of the river,
and filled the air with a light and grateful perfume.

On the 26th we halted at the _Arroyo de las Calaveras_, (Skull
creek,) a tributary to the San Joaquin--the previous two streams entering
the bay between the San Joaquin and Sacramento rivers. This place is
beautiful, with open groves of oak, and a grassy sward beneath, with many
plants in bloom, some varieties of which seem to love the shade of the
trees, and grow there in close small fields. Near the river, and replacing
the grass, are great quantities of _ammole_, (soap plant,) the leaves
of which are used in California for making, among other things, mats for
saddle-cloths. A vine with a small white flower, (_melothria?_)
called here _la yerba buena_, and which, from its abundance, gives
name to an island and town in the bay, was to-day very frequent on our
road--sometimes running on the ground or climbing the trees.

27th.--To-day we traveled steadily and rapidly up the valley; for, with
our wild animals, any other gait was impossible, and making about five
miles an hour. During the earlier part of the day, our ride had been over
a very level prairie, or rather a succession of long stretches of prairie,
separated by lines and groves of oak timber, growing along dry gullies,
which are filled with water in seasons of rain; and, perhaps, also, by the
melting snows. Over much of this extent, the vegetation was sparse; the
surface showing plainly the action of water, which, in the season of
flood, the Joaquin spreads over the valley. About one o'clock we came
again among innumerable flowers; and a few miles further, fields of the
beautiful blue-flowering _lupine_, which seems to love the
neighborhood of water, indicated that we were approaching a stream. We
here found this beautiful shrub in thickets, some of them being 12 feet in
height. Occasionally three or four plants were clustered together, forming
a grand bouquet, about 90 feet in circumference, and 10 feet high; the
whole summit covered with spikes of flowers, the perfume of which is very
sweet and grateful. A lover of natural beauty can imagine with what
pleasure we rode among these flowering groves, which filled the air with a
light and delicate fragrance. We continued our road for about a half a
mile, interspersed through an open grove of live-oaks, which, in form,
were the most symmetrical and beautiful we had yet seen in this country.
The ends of their branches rested on the ground, forming somewhat more
than a half sphere of very full and regular figure, with leaves apparently
smaller than usual.

The Californian poppy, of a rich orange color, was numerous to-day. Elk
and several bands of antelope made their appearance.

Our road was now one continued enjoyment; and it was pleasant riding among
this assemblage of green pastures with varied flowers and scattered
groves, and out of the warm green spring to look at the rocky and snowy
peaks where lately we had suffered so much. Emerging from the timber, we
came suddenly upon the Stanislaus river, where we hoped to find a ford,
but the stream was flowing by, dark and deep, swollen by the mountain
snows; its general breadth was about 50 yards.

We traveled about five miles up the river, and encamped without being able
to find a ford. Here we made a large _coral_, in order to be able to
catch a sufficient number of our wild animals to relieve those previously
packed.

Under the shade of the oaks, along the river, I noticed _erodium
cicutarium_ in bloom, eight or ten inches high. This is the plant which
we had seen the squaws gathering on the Rio de los Americanos. By the
inhabitants of the valley it is highly esteemed for fattening cattle,
which appear to be very fond of it. Here, where the soil begins to be
sandy, it supplies to a considerable extent the want of grass.

Desirous, as far as possible, without delay, to include in our examination
the San Joaquin river, I returned this morning down the Stanislaus for 17
miles, and again encamped without having found a fording-place. After
following it for eight miles further the next morning, and finding
ourselves in the vicinity of the San Joaquin, encamped in a handsome oak
grove, and, several cattle being killed, we ferried over our baggage in
their skins. Here our Indian boy, who probably had not much idea of where
he was going, and began to be alarmed at the many streams which we were
rapidly putting between him and the village, deserted.

Thirteen head of cattle took a sudden fright, while we were driving them
across the river, and galloped off. I remained a day in the endeavor to
recover them; but, finding they had taken the trail back to the fort, let
them go without further effort. Here we had several days of warm and
pleasant rain, which doubtless saved the crops below.



APRIL.


On the 1st of April, we made 10 miles across a prairie without timber,
when we were stopped again by another large river, which is called the
_Rio de la Merced_, (river of our Lady of Mercy.) Here the country
had lost its character of extreme fertility, the soil having become more
sandy and light; but, for several days past, its beauty had been increased
by the additional animation of animal life; and now, it is crowded with
bands of elk and wild horses; and along the rivers are frequent fresh
tracks of grizzly bear, which are unusually numerous in this country.

Our route had been along the timber of the San Joaquin, generally about
eight miles distant, over a high prairie.

In one of the bands of elk seen to-day, there were about 200; but the
larger bands, both of these and wild horses, are generally found on the
other side of the river, which, for that reason, I avoided crossing. I had
been informed below, that the droves of wild horses were almost invariably
found on the western bank of the river; and the danger of losing our
animals among them, together with the wish of adding to our reconnoissance
the numerous streams which run down from the Sierra, decided me to travel
up the eastern bank.

2d.--The day was occupied in building a boat, and ferrying our baggage
across the river; and we encamped on the bank. A large fishing eagle was
slowly sailing along, looking after salmon; and there were some pretty
birds in the timber, with partridges, ducks and geese innumerable in the
neighborhood. We were struck with the tameness of the latter bird at
Helvetia, scattered about in flocks near the wheat-fields, and eating
grass on the prairie; a horseman would ride by within 30 yards, without
disturbing them.

3d.--To-day we touched several times the San Joaquin river--here a fine-
looking tranquil stream, with a slight current, and apparently deep. It
resembled the Missouri in color, with occasional points of white sand; and
its banks, where steep, were a kind of sandy clay; its average width
appeared to be about eighty yards. In the bottoms are frequent ponds,
where our approach disturbed multitudes of wild fowl, principally geese.
Skirting along the timber, we frequently started elk; and large bands were
seen during the day, with antelope and wild horses. The low country and
the timber rendered it difficult to keep the main line of the river; and
this evening we encamped on a tributary stream, about five miles from its
mouth. On the prairie bordering the San Joaquin bottoms, there occurred
during the day but little grass, and in its place was a sparse and dwarf
growth of plants; the soil being sandy, with small bare places and
hillocks, reminded me much of the Platte bottoms; but, on approaching the
timber, we found a more luxuriant vegetation, and at our camp was an
abundance of grass and pea-vines.

The foliage of the oak is getting darker; and every thing, except that the
weather is a little cool, shows that spring is rapidly advancing; and to-
day we had quite a summer rain.

4th.--Commenced to rain at daylight, but cleared off brightly at sunrise.
We ferried the river without any difficulty, and continued up the San
Joaquin. Elk were running in bands over the prairie and in the skirt of
the timber. We reached the river at the mouth of a large slough, which we
were unable to ford, and made a circuit of several miles around. Here the
country appears very flat; oak-trees have entirely disappeared, and are
replaced by a large willow, nearly equal to it in size. The river is about
a hundred yards in breadth, branching into sloughs, and interspersed with
islands. At this time it appears sufficiently deep for a small steamer,
but its navigation would be broken by shallows at low water. Bearing in
towards the river, we were again forced off by another slough; and passing
around, steered towards a clump of trees on the river, and finding there
good grass, encamped. The prairies along the left bank are alive with
immense droves of wild horses; and they had been seen during the day at
every opening through the woods which afforded us a view across the river.
Latitude, by observation, 37 deg. 08' 00"; longitude 120 deg. 45' 22".

5th--During the earlier part of the day's ride, the country presented a
lacustrine appearance; the river was deep, and nearly on a level with the
surrounding country; its banks raised like a levee, and fringed with
willows. Over the bordering plain were interspersed spots of prairie among
fields of _tule_, (bulrushes,) which in this country are called
_tulares_, and little ponds. On the opposite side, a line of timber
was visible which, according to information, points out the course of the
slough, which at times of high water connects with the San Joaquin river--
a large body of water in the upper part of the valley, called the Tule
lakes. The river and all its sloughs are very full, and it is probable
that the lake is now discharging. Here elk were frequently started, and
one was shot out of a band which ran around us. On our left, the Sierra
maintains its snowy height, and masses of snow appear to descend very low
towards the plains; probably the late rains in the valley were snow on the
mountains. We traveled 37 miles, and encamped on the river. Longitude of
the camp, 120 deg. 28' 34", and latitude, 36 deg. 49' 12".

6th.--After having traveled fifteen miles along the river, we made an
early halt, under the shade of sycamore-trees. Here we found the San
Joaquin coming down from the Sierra with a westerly course, and checking
our way, as all its tributaries had previously done. We had expected to
raft the river; but found a good ford, and encamped on the opposite bank,
where droves of wild horses were raising clouds of dust on the prairie.
Columns of smoke were visible in the direction of the Tule lakes to the
southward--probably kindled in the tulares by the Indians, as signals that
there were strangers in the valley.

We made, on the 7th, a hard march in a cold chilly rain from morning until
night--the weather so thick that we traveled by compass. This was a
_traverse_ from the San Joaquin to the waters of the Tule lakes, and
our road was over a very level prairie country. We saw wolves frequently
during the day, prowling about after the young antelope, which cannot run
very fast. These were numerous during the day, and two were caught by the
people.

Late in the afternoon we discovered timber, which was found to be groves
of oak-trees on a dry _arroyo_. The rain, which had fallen in
frequent showers, poured down in a storm at sunset, with a strong wind,
which swept off the clouds, and left a clear sky. Riding on through the
timber, about dark we found abundant water in small ponds, 20 to 30 yards
in diameter, with clear deep water and sandy beds, bordered with bog
rushes, (_juncus effusus_,) and a tall rush (_scirpus
lacustris_) twelve feet high, and surrounded near the margin with
willow-trees in bloom; among them one which resembled _salix
myricoides_. The oak of the groves was the same already mentioned, with
small leaves, in form like those of the white-oak, and forming, with the
evergreen-oak, the characteristic trees of the valley.

8th.--After a ride of two miles through brush and open groves, we reached
a large stream, called the River of the Lake, resembling in size the San
Joaquin, and being about 100 yards broad. This is the principal tributary
to the Tule lakes, which collect all the waters in the upper part of the
valley. While we were searching for a ford, some Indians appeared on the
opposite bank, and having discovered that we were not Spanish soldiers,
showed us the way to a good ford several miles above.

The Indians of the Sierra make frequent descents upon the settlements west
of the Coast Range, which they keep constantly swept of horses; among them
are many who are called Christian Indians, being refugees from Spanish
missions. Several of these incursions occurred while we were at Helvetia.
Occasionally parties of soldiers follow them across the Coast Range, but
never enter the Sierra.

On the opposite side we found some forty or fifty Indians, who had come to
meet us from the village below. We made them some small presents, and
invited them to our encampment, which, after about three miles through
fine oak groves, we made on the river. We made a fort, principally on
account of our animals. The Indians brought otter-skins, and several kinds
of fish, and bread made of acorns, to trade. Among them were several who
had come to live among these Indians when the missions were broken up, and
who spoke Spanish fluently. They informed us that they were called by the
Spaniards _mansitos_, (tame,) in distinction from the wilder tribes
of the mountains. They, however, think themselves very insecure, not
knowing at what unforeseen moment the sins of the latter may be visited
upon them. They are dark-skinned, but handsome and intelligent Indians,
and live principally on acorns and the roots of the tule, of which also
their huts are made.

By observation, the latitude of the encampment is 36 deg. 24' 50", and
longitude 119 deg. 41' 40".

9th.--For several miles we had very bad traveling over what is called
rotten ground, in which the horses were frequently up to their knees.
Making towards a line of timber, we found a small fordable stream, beyond
which the country improved, and the grass became excellent; and crossing a
number of dry and timbered _arroyos_, we traveled until late through
open oak groves, and encamped among a collection of streams. These were
running among rushes and willows; and, as usual, flocks of blackbirds
announced our approach to water. We have here approached considerably
nearer to the eastern Sierra, which shows very plainly, still covered with
masses of snow, which yesterday and to-day has also appeared abundant on
the Coast Range.

10th.--To-day we made another long journey of about forty miles, through a
country uninteresting and flat, with very little grass and a sandy soil,
in which several branches we crossed had lost their water. In the evening
the face of the country became hilly; and, turning a few miles up towards
the mountains, we found a good encampment on a pretty stream hidden among
the hills, and handsomely timbered, principally with large cottonwoods,
(_populus_, differing from any in Michaux's Sylva.) The seed-vessels
of this tree were now just about bursting.

Several Indians came down the river to see us in the evening; we gave them
supper, and cautioned them against stealing our horses; which they
promised not to attempt.

11th.--A broad trail along the river here takes out among the hills. "Buen
camino," (good road,) said one of the Indians, of whom we had inquired
about the pass; and, following it accordingly, it conducted us beautifully
through a very broken country, by an excellent way, which, otherwise, we
should have found extremely bad. Taken separately, the hills present
smooth and graceful outlines, but, together, make bad traveling ground.
Instead of grass, the whole face of the country is closely covered with
_erodium cicutarium_, here only two or three inches high. Its height
and beauty varied in a remarkable manner with the locality, being, in many
low places which we passed during the day, around streams and springs, two
and three feet high. The country had now assumed a character of aridity;
and the luxuriant green of these little streams, wooded with willow, oak,
or sycamore, looked very refreshing among the sandy hills.

In the evening we encamped on a large creek, with abundant water. I
noticed here in bloom, for the first time since leaving the Arkansas
waters, the _Miribilis Jalapa_.

12th.--Along our road to-day the country was altogether sandy, and
vegetation meager. _Ephedra occidentalis_, which we had first seen in
the neighborhood of the Pyramid lake, made its appearance here, and in the
course of the day became very abundant, and in large bushes. Towards the
close of the afternoon, we reached a tolerably large river, which empties
into a small lake at the head of the valley; it is about thirty-five yards
wide, with a stony and gravelly bed, and the swiftest stream we have
crossed since leaving the bay. The bottoms produced no grass, though well
timbered with willow and cottonwood; and, after ascending several miles,
we made a late encampment on a little bottom, with scanty grass. In
greater part, the vegetation along our road consisted now of rare and
unusual plants, among which many were entirely new.

Along the bottoms were thickets consisting of several varieties of shrubs,
which made here their first appearance; and among these was _Garrya
elliptica_, (Lindley,) a small tree belonging to a very peculiar
natural order, and, in its general appearance, (growing in thickets,)
resembling willow. It now became common along the streams, frequently
supplying the place of _salix longifolia_.

13th.--The water was low, and a few miles above we forded the river at a
rapid, and marched in a southeasterly direction over a less broken
country. The mountains were now very near, occasionally looming out
through fog. In a few hours we reached the bottom of a creek without
water, over which the sandy beds were dispersed in many branches.
Immediately where we struck it, the timber terminated; and below, to the
right, it was a broad bed of dry and bare sands. There were many tracks of
Indians and horses imprinted in the sand, which, with other indications,
informed us was the creek issuing from the pass, and which we have called
Pass creek. We ascended a trail for a few miles along the creek, and
suddenly found a stream of water five feet wide, running with a lively
current, but losing itself almost immediately. This little stream showed
plainly the manner in which the mountain waters lose themselves in sand at
the eastern foot of the Sierra, leaving only a parched desert and arid
plains beyond. The stream enlarged rapidly, and the timber became abundant
as we ascended.

A new species of pine made its appearance, with several kinds of oaks, and
a variety of trees; and the country changing its appearance suddenly and
entirely, we found ourselves again traveling among the old orchard-like
places. Here we selected a delightful encampment in a handsome green oak
hollow, where among the open bolls of the trees was an abundant sward of
grass and pea-vines. In the evening a Christian Indian rode into the camp,
well dressed, with long spurs, and a _sombreo_, and speaking Spanish
fluently. It was an unexpected apparition, and a strange and pleasant
sight in this desolate gorge of a mountain--an Indian face, Spanish
costume, jingling spurs, and horse equipped after the Spanish manner. He
informed me that he belonged to one of the Spanish missions to the south,
distant two or three days' ride, and that he had obtained from the priests
leave to spend a few days with his relations in the Sierra. Having seen us
enter the pass, he had come down to visit us. He appeared familiarly
acquainted with the country, and gave me definite and clear information in
regard to the desert region east of the mountains. I had entered the pass
with a strong disposition to vary my route, and to travel directly across
towards the Great Salt lake, in the view of obtaining some acquaintance
with the interior of the Great Basin, while pursuing a direct course for
the frontier; but his representation, which described it as an arid and
barren desert, that had repulsed by its sterility all the attempts of the
Indians to penetrate it, determined me for the present to relinquish the
plan, and agreeably to his advice, after crossing the Sierra, continue our
intended route along its eastern base to the Spanish trail. By this route,
a party of six Indians, who had come from a great river in the eastern
part of the desert to trade with his people, had just started on their
return. He would himself return the next day to _San Fernando_, and
as our roads would be the same for two days, he offered his services to
conduct us so far on our way. His offer was gladly accepted. The fog which
had somewhat interfered with views in the valley, had entirely passed off,
and left a clear sky. That which had enveloped us in the neighborhood of
the pass proceeded evidently from fires kindled among the tulares by
Indians living near the lakes, and which were intended to warn those in
the mountains that there were strangers in the valley. Our position was in
latitude 35 deg. 17' 12", and longitude 118 deg. 35' 03".

14th.--Our guide joined us this morning on the trail; and, arriving in a
short distance at an open bottom where the creek forked, we continued up
the right-hand branch, which was enriched by a profusion of flowers, and
handsomely wooded with sycamore, oaks, cottonwood, and willow, with other
trees, and some shrubby plants. In its long strings of balls, this
sycamore differs from that of the United States, and is the _platanus
occidentalus_ of Hooker--a new species recently described among the
plants collected in the voyage of the Sulphur. The cottonwood varied its
foliage with white tufts, and the feathery seeds were flying plentifully
through the air. Gooseberries, nearly ripe, were very abundant in the
mountains; and as we passed the dividing grounds, which were not very easy
to ascertain, the air was filled with perfume, as if we were entering a
highly cultivated garden; and, instead of green, our pathway and the
mountain sides were covered with fields of yellow flowers, which here was
the prevailing color. Our journey to-day was in the midst of an advanced
spring, whose green and floral beauty offered a delightful contrast to the
sandy valley we had just left. All the day, snow was in sight on the butte
of the mountain, which frowned down upon us on the right; but we beheld it
now with feelings of pleasant security, as we rode along between green
trees, and on flowers, with hummingbirds and other feathered friends of
the traveler enlivening the serene spring air. As we reached the summit of
this beautiful pass, and obtained a view into the eastern country, we saw
at once that here was the place to take leave of all such pleasant scenes
as those around us. The distant mountains were now bald rocks again, and
below the land had any color but green. Taking into consideration the
nature of the Sierra Nevada, we found this pass an excellent one for
horses; and with a little labor, or perhaps with a more perfect
examination of the localities, it might be made sufficiently practicable
for wagons. Its latitude and longitude may be considered that of our last
encampment, only a few miles distant. The elevation was not taken--our
half-wild cavalcade making it troublesome to halt before night, when once
started.

We here left the waters of the bay of San Francisco, and, though forced
upon them contrary to my intentions, I cannot regret the necessity which
occasioned the deviation. It made me well acquainted with the great range
of the Sierra Nevada of the Alta California, and showed that this broad
and elevated snowy ridge was a continuation of the Cascade Range of
Oregon, between which and the ocean there is still another and a lower
range, parallel to the former and to the coast, and which may be called
the Coast Range. It also made me well acquainted with the basin of the San
Francisco bay, and with the two pretty rivers and their valleys (the
Sacramento and San Joaquin) which are tributary to that bay, and cleared
up some points in geography on which error had long prevailed. It had been
constantly represented, as I have already stated, that the bay of San
Francisco opened far into the interior, by some river coming down from the
base of the Rocky mountains, and upon which supposed stream the name of
Rio Buenaventura had been bestowed. Our observations of the Sierra Nevada,
in the long distance from the head of the Sacramento, to the head of the
San Joaquin, and of the valley below it, which collects all the waters of
the San Francisco bay, show that this neither is nor can be the case. No
river from the interior does, or can, cross the Sierra Nevada--itself more
lofty than the Rocky mountains; and as to the Buenaventura, the mouth of
which seen on the coast gave the idea and the name of the reputed great
river, it is, in fact, a small stream of no consequence, not only below
the Sierra Nevada, but actually below the Coast Range--taking its rise
within half a degree of the ocean, running parallel to it for about two
degrees, and then falling into the Pacific near Monterey. There is no
opening from the bay of San Francisco into the interior of the continent.
The two rivers which flow into it are comparatively short, and not
perpendicular to the coast, but lateral to it, and having their heads
towards Oregon and southern California. They open lines of communication
north and south, and not eastwardly; and thus this want of interior
communication from the San Francisco bay, now fully ascertained, gives
great additional value to the Columbia, which stands alone as the only
great river on the Pacific slope of our continent which leads from the
ocean to the Rocky mountains, and opens a line of communication from the
sea to the valley of the Mississippi.

Four _companeros_ joined our guide at the pass; and two going back at
noon, the others continued on in company. Descending from the hills, we
reached a country of fine grass, where the _erodium cicutarium_
finally disappeared, giving place to an excellent quality of bunch-grass.
Passing by some springs where there was a rich sward of grass among groves
of large black-oak, we rode over a plain on which the guide pointed out a
spot where a refugee Christian Indian had been killed by a party of
soldiers which had unexpectedly penetrated into the mountains. Crossing a
low sierra, and descending a hollow where a spring gushed out, we were
struck by the sudden appearance of _yucca_ trees, which gave a
strange and southern character to the country, and suited well with the
dry and desert region we were approaching. Associated with the idea of
barren sands, their stiff and ungraceful form makes them to the traveler
the most repulsive tree in the vegetable kingdom. Following the hollow, we
shortly came upon a creek timbered with large black-oak, which yet had not
put forth a leaf. There was a small rivulet of running water, with good
grass.

15th.--The Indians who had accompanied the guide returned this morning,
and I purchased from them a Spanish saddle and long spurs, as
reminiscences of the time; and for a few yards of scarlet cloth they gave
me a horse, which afterwards became food for other Indians.

We continued a short distance down the creek, in which our guide informed
us that the water very soon disappeared, and turned directly to the
southward along the foot of the mountain; the trail on which we rode
appearing to describe the eastern limit of travel, where water and grass
terminated. Crossing a low spur, which bordered the creek, we descended to
a kind of plain among the lower spurs, the desert being in full view on
our left, apparently illimitable. A hot mist lay over it to-day, through
which it had a white and glistening appearance; here and there a few dry-
looking _buttes_ and isolated black ridges rose suddenly upon it.
"There," said our guide, stretching out his hand towards it, "there are
the great _llanos_, (plains,) _no hay agua; no hay zacate--
nada_: there is neither water nor grass--nothing; every animal that
goes upon them, dies." It was indeed dismal to look upon, and to conceive
so great a change in so short a distance. One might travel the world over,
without finding a valley more fresh and verdant--more floral and sylvan--
more alive with birds and animals--more bounteously watered--than we had
left in the San Joaquin: here within a few miles' ride, a vast desert
plain spread before us, from which the boldest traveler turned away in
despair.

Directly in front of us, at some distance to the southward, and running
out in an easterly direction from the mountains, stretched a sierra,
having at the eastern end (perhaps 50 miles distant) some snowy peaks, on
which, by the information of our guide, snow rested all the year.

Our cavalcade made a strange and grotesque appearance; and it was
impossible to avoid reflecting upon our position and composition in this
remote solitude. Within two degrees of the Pacific ocean--already far
south of the latitude of Monterey--and still forced on south by a desert
on one hand, and a mountain range on the other--guided by a civilized
Indian, attended by two wild ones from the Sierra--a Chinook from the
Columbia, and our mixture of American, French, German--all armed--four or
five languages heard at once--above a hundred horses and mules, half wild
--American, Spanish, and Indian dresses and equipments intermingled--such
was our composition. Our march was a sort of procession. Scouts ahead and
on the flanks; a front and rear division; the pack-animals, baggage, and
horned-cattle in the centre; and the whole stretching a quarter of a mile
along our dreary path. In this form we journeyed, looking more as if we
belonged to Asia than to the United States of America.

We continued in a southerly direction across the plain, to which, as well
as to all the country, so far as we could see, the _yucca_ trees gave
a strange and singular character. Several new plants appeared, among which
was a zygophyllaceous shrub, (_zygophyllum Californicum_, Torr. and
Frem.,) sometimes ten feet in height; in form, and in the pliancy of its
branches, it is rather a graceful plant. Its leaves are small, covered
with a resinous substance; and, particularly when bruised and crushed,
exhale a singular but very agreeable and refreshing odor. This shrub and
the _yucca_, with many varieties of cactus, make the characteristic
features in the vegetation for a long distance to the eastward. Along the
foot of the mountain, 20 miles to the southward, red stripes of flowers
were visible during the morning, which we supposed to be variegated
sandstones. We rode rapidly during the day, and in the afternoon emerged
from the _yucca_ forest at the foot of an _outlier_ of the
Sierra before us, and came among the fields of flowers we had seen in the
morning, which consisted principally of the rich orange-colored California
poppy, mingled with other flowers of brighter tints. Reaching the top of
the spur, which was covered with fine bunch-grass, and where the hills
were very green, our guide pointed to a small hollow in the mountain
before us, saying, "_a este piedra hay agua_." He appeared to know
every nook in the country. We continued our beautiful road, and reached a
spring in the slope at the foot of the ridge, running in a green ravine,
among granite boulders; here nightshade, and borders of buckwheat, with
their white blossoms around the granite rocks, attracted our notice as
familiar plants. Several antelopes were seen among the hills, and some
large hares. Men were sent back this evening in search of a wild mule with
a valuable pack, which had managed (as they frequently do) to hide itself
along the road.

By observation, the latitude of the camp is 34 deg. 41' 42", and longitude
118 deg. 20' 00". The next day the men returned with the mule.

17th.--Crossing the ridge by a beautiful pass of hollows, where several
deer broke out of the thickets, we emerged at a small salt lake in a
_vallon_ lying nearly east and west, where a trail from the mission
of _San Buenaventura_ comes in. The lake is about 1,200 yards in
diameter; surrounded on the margin by a white salty border, which, by the
smell, reminded us slightly of Lake Abert. There are some cottonwoods,
with willow and elder, around the lake; and the water is a little salt,
although not entirely unfit for drinking. Here we turned directly to the
eastward along the trail, which, from being seldom used, is almost
imperceptible; and, after traveling a few miles, our guide halted, and,
pointing to the hardly visible trail, "_aqui es camino_," said he,
"_no se pierde--va siempre_." He pointed out a black _butte_ on
the plain at the foot of the mountain, where we would find water to encamp
at night; and, giving him a present of knives and scarlet cloth, we shook
hands and parted. He bore off south, and in a day's ride would arrive at
San Fernando, one of several missions in this part of California, where
the country is so beautiful that it is considered a paradise, and the name
of its principal town (_Puebla de los Angeles_) would make it
angelic. We continued on through a succession of valleys, and came into a
most beautiful spot of flower fields; instead of green, the hills were
purple and orange, with unbroken beds, into which each color was
separately gathered. A pale straw-color, with a bright yellow, the rich
red orange of the poppy mingled with fields of purple, covered the spot
with a floral beauty; and, on the border of the sandy deserts, seemed to
invite the traveler to go no farther. Riding along through the perfumed
air, we soon after entered a defile overgrown with the ominous
_artemisia tridentata_, which conducted us into a sandy plain covered
more or less densely with forests of _yucca_.

Having now the snowy ridge on our right, we continued our way towards a
dark _butte_, belonging to a low sierra on the plain, and which our
guide had pointed out for a landmark. Late in the day, the familiar growth
of cottonwood, a line of which was visible ahead, indicated our approach
to a creek, which we reached where the water spread out into sands, and a
little below sank entirely. Here our guide had intended we should pass the
night; but there was not a blade of grass, and, hoping to find nearer the
mountain a little for the night, we turned up the stream. A hundred yards
above, we found the creek a fine stream, sixteen feet wide, with a swift
current. A dark night overtook us when we reached the hills at the foot of
the ridge, and we were obliged to encamp without grass; tying up what
animals we could secure in the darkness, the greater part of the wild ones
having free range for the night. Here the stream was two feet deep, swift
and clear, issuing from a neighboring snow peak. A few miles before
reaching this creek, we had crossed a broad dry riverbed, which, nearer
the hills, the hunters had found a bold and handsome stream.

18th.--Some parties were engaged in hunting up the scattered horses, and
others in searching for grass above; both were successful, and late in the
day we encamped among some spring-heads of the river, in a hollow which
was covered with only tolerably good grasses, the lower ground being
entirely overgrown with large bunches of the coarse stiff grass, (_carex
sitchensis_.)

Our latitude, by observation, was 34 deg. 27' 03", and longitude 117 deg. 13' 00".

Traveling close along the mountain, we followed up, in the afternoon of
the 19th, another stream, in hopes to find a grass-patch like that of the
previous day, but were deceived; except some scattered bunch-grass, there
was nothing but rock and sand; and even the fertility of the mountain
seemed withered by the air of the desert. Among the few trees was the nut
pine, (_pinus monophyllus_.)

Our road the next day was still in an easterly direction along the ridge,
over very bad traveling ground, broken and confounded with crippled trees
and shrubs; and, after a difficult march of eighteen miles, a general
shout announced that we had struck the great object of our search--THE
SPANISH TRAIL--which here was running directly north. The road itself,
and its course, were equally happy discoveries to us. Since the middle of
December we had continually been forced south by mountains and by deserts,
and now would have to make six degrees of _northing_, to regain the
latitude on which we wished to cross the Rocky mountains. The course of
the road, therefore, was what we wanted; and, once more, we felt like
going homewards. A _road_ to travel on, and the _right_ course
to go, were joyful consolations to us; and our animals enjoyed the beaten
track like ourselves. Relieved from the rocks and brush, our wild mules
started off at a rapid rate, and in fifteen miles we reached a
considerable river, timbered with cottonwood and willow, where we found a
bottom of tolerable grass. As the animals had suffered a great deal in the
last few days, I remained here all next day, to allow them the necessary
repose; and it was now necessary, at every favorable place, to make a
little halt. Between us and the Colorado river we were aware that the
country was extremely poor in grass, and scarce for water, there being
many _jornadas_, (days' journey,) or long stretches of forty to sixty
miles, without water, where the road was marked by bones of animals.

Although in California we had met with people who had passed over this
trail, we had been able to obtain no correct information about it; and the
greater part of what we had heard was found to be only a tissue of
falsehoods. The rivers that we found on it were never mentioned, and
others, particularly described in name and locality, were subsequently
seen in another part of the country. It was described as a tolerably good
sandy road, with so little rock as scarcely to require the animals to be
shod; and we found it the roughest and rockiest road we had ever seen in
the country, and which nearly destroyed our band of fine mules and horses.
Many animals are destroyed on it every year by a disease called the foot-
evil; and a traveler should never venture on it without having his animals
well shod, and also carrying extra shoes.

Latitude 34 deg. 34' 11"; and longitude 117 deg. 13' 00".

The morning of the 22d was clear and bright, and a snowy peak to the
southward shone out high and sharply defined. As has been usual since we
crossed the mountains and descended into the hot plains, we had a gale of
wind. We traveled down the right bank of the stream, over sands which are
somewhat loose, and have no verdure, but are occupied by various shrubs. A
clear bold stream, 60 feet wide, and several feet deep, had a strange
appearance, running between perfectly naked banks of sand. The eye,
however, is somewhat relieved by willows, and the beautiful green of the
sweet cottonwoods with which it is well wooded. As we followed along its
course, the river, instead of growing constantly larger, gradually
dwindled away, as it was absorbed by the sand. We were now careful to take
the old camping-places of the annual Santa Fe caravans, which, luckily for
us, had not yet made their yearly passage. A drove of several thousand
horses and mules would entirely have swept away the scanty grass at the
watering places, and we should have been obliged to leave the road to
obtain subsistence for our animals. After riding 20 miles in a north-
easterly direction, we found an old encampment, where we halted.

By observation, the elevation of this encampment is 2,250 feet.

23d.--The trail followed still along the river, which, in the course of
the morning, entirely disappeared. We continued along the dry bed, in
which, after an interval of about 16 miles, the water reappeared in some
low places, well timbered with cottonwood and willow, where was another of
the customary camping-grounds. Here a party of six Indians came into camp,
poor and hungry, and quite in keeping with the character of the country.
Their arms were bows of unusual length, and each had a large gourd,
strengthened with meshes of cord, in which he carried water. They proved
to be the Mohahve Indians mentioned by our recent guide; and from one of
them, who spoke Spanish fluently, I obtained some interesting information,
which I would be glad to introduce here. An account of the people
inhabiting this region would undoubtedly possess interest for the
civilized world. Our journey homewards was fruitful in incident; and the
country through which we traveled, although a desert, afforded much to
excite the curiosity of the botanist; but limited time, and the rapidly
advancing season for active operations, oblige me to omit all extended
descriptions, and hurry briefly to the conclusion of this report.

The Indian who spoke Spanish had been educated for a number of years at
one of the Spanish missions, and, at the breaking up of those
establishments, had returned to the mountains, where he had been found by
a party of _Mohahve_ (sometimes called _Amuchaba_) Indians,
among whom he had ever since resided.

He spoke of the leader of the present party as "_mi amo_," (my
master.) He said they lived upon a large river in the southeast, which the
"soldiers called the Rio Colorado;" but that, formerly, a portion of them
lived upon this river, and among the mountains which had bounded the river
valley to the northward during the day, and that here along the river they
had raised various kinds of melons. They sometimes came over to trade with
the Indians of the Sierra, bringing with them blankets and goods
manufactured by the Monquis and other Colorado Indians. They rarely
carried home horses, on account of the difficulty of getting them across
the desert, and of guarding them afterwards from the Pa-utah Indians, who
inhabit the Sierra, at the head of the _Rio Virgen_, (river of the
Virgin.)

He informed us that, a short distance below, this river finally
disappeared. The two different portions in which water is found had
received from the priests two different names; and subsequently I heard it
called by the Spaniards the _Rio de las Animas_, but on the map we
have called it the _Mohahve_ river.

24th.--We continued down the stream (or rather its bed) for about eight
miles, where there was water still in several holes, and encamped. The
caravans sometimes continued below, to the end of the river, from which
there is a very long _jornada_ of perhaps 60 miles, without water.
Here a singular and new species of acacia, with spiral pods or seed-
vessels, made its first appearance; becoming henceforward, for a
considerable distance, the characteristic tree. It was here comparatively
large, being about 20 feet in height, with a full and spreading top, the
lower branches declining towards the ground. It afterwards occurred of
smaller size, frequently in groves, and is very fragrant. It has been
called by Dr. Torrey, _spirolobium odoratum_. The zygophyllaceous
shrub had been constantly characteristic of the plains along the river;
and here, among many new plants, a new and very remarkable species of
eriogonum (_eriogonum inflatum_, Tor. & Frem.) made its first
appearance.

Our cattle had become so tired and poor by this fatiguing traveling, that
three of them were killed here, and the meat dried. The Indians had now an
occasion for a great feast and were occupied the remainder of the day and
all night in cooking and eating. There was no part of the animal for which
they did not find some use, except the bones. In the afternoon we were
surprised by the sudden appearance in the camp of two Mexicans--a man and
a boy. The name of the man was _Andreas Fuentes_; and that of the
boy, (a handsome lad, 11 years old,) _Pablo Hernandez_. They belonged
to a party consisting of six persons, the remaining four being the wife of
Fuentes, and the father and mother of Pablo, and Santiago Giacome, a
resident of New Mexico. With a cavalcade of about thirty horses, they had
come out from Puebla de los Angeles, near the coast, under the guidance of
Giacome, in advance of the great caravan, in order to travel more at
leisure, and obtain better grass. Having advanced as far into the desert
as was considered consistent with their safety, they halted at the
_Archilette_, one of the customary camping-grounds, about 80 miles
from our encampment, where there is a spring of good water, with
sufficient grass; and concluded to await there the arrival of the great
caravan. Several Indians were soon discovered lurking about the camp, who,
in a day or two after, came in, and, after behaving in a very friendly
manner, took their leave, without awakening any suspicions. Their
deportment begat a security which proved fatal. In a few days afterwards,
suddenly a party of about one hundred Indians appeared in sight, advancing
towards the camp. It was too late, or they seemed not to have presence of
mind to take proper measures of safety; and the Indians charged down into
their camp, shouting as they advanced, and discharging flights of arrows.
Pablo and Fuentes were on horse-guard at the time, and mounted according
to the custom of the country. One of the principal objects of the Indians
was to get possession of the horses, and part of them immediately
surrounded the band; but, in obedience to the shouts of Giacome, Fuentes
drove the animals over and through the assailants, in spite of their
arrows; and, abandoning the rest to their fate, carried them off at speed
across the plain. Knowing that they would be pursued by the Indians,
without making any halt except to shift their saddles to other horses,
they drove them on for about sixty miles, and this morning left them at a
watering-place on the trail, called Agua de Tomaso. Without giving
themselves any time for rest, they hurried on, hoping to meet the Spanish
caravan, when they discovered my camp. I received them kindly, taking them
into my own mess, and promised them such aid as circumstances might put it
in my power to give.

25th.--We left the river abruptly, and, turning to the north, regained in
a few miles the main trail, (which had left the river sooner than
ourselves,) and continued our way across a lower ridge of the mountain,
through a miserable tract of sand and gravel. We crossed at intervals the
broad beds of dry gullies, where in the seasons of rains and melting snows
there would be brooks or rivulets: and at one of these, where there was no
indication of water, were several freshly-dug holes, in which there was
water at the depth of two feet. These holes had been dug by the wolves,
whose keen sense of smell had scented the water under the dry sand. They
were nice little wells, narrow, and dug straight down; and we got pleasant
water out of them.

The country had now assumed the character of an elevated and mountainous
desert; its general features being black, rocky ridges, bald, and
destitute of timber, with sandy basins between. Where the sides of these
ridges are washed by gullies, the plains below are strewed with beds of
large pebbles or rolled stones, destructive to our soft-footed animals,
accustomed to the soft plains of the Sacramento valley. Through these
sandy basins sometimes struggled a scanty stream, or occurred a hole of
water, which furnished camping-grounds for travelers. Frequently in our
journey across, snow was visible on the surrounding mountains; but their
waters rarely reached the sandy plain below, where we toiled along,
oppressed with thirst and a burning sun. But, throughout this nakedness of
sand and gravel, were many beautiful plants and flowering shrubs, which
occurred in many new species, and with greater variety than we had been
accustomed to see in the most luxuriant prairie countries; this was a
peculiarity of this desert. Even where no grass would take root, the naked
sand would bloom with some rich and rare flower, which found its
appropriate home in the arid and barren spot.

Scattered over the plain, and tolerably abundant, was a handsome
leguminous shrub, three or four feet high, with fine bright purple
flowers. It is a new _psoralea_, and occurred frequently henceforward
along our road.

Beyond the first ridge, our road bore a little to the east of north,
towards a gap in a higher line of mountains; and, after traveling about 25
miles, we arrived at the _Agua de Tomaso_--the spring where the
horses had been left; but, as we expected, they were gone. A brief
examination of the ground convinced us that they had been driven off by
the Indians. Carson and Godey volunteered, with the Mexican, to pursue
them; and, well mounted, the three set off on the trail. At this stopping-
place there are a few bushes, and a very little grass. Its water was a
pool; but near by was a spring, which had been dug out by Indians or
travelers. Its water was cool--a great refreshment to us under a burning
sun.

In the evening Fuentes returned, his horse having failed; but Carson and
Godey had continued the pursuit.

I observed to-night an occultation of _a2 Cancri_, at the dark limb
of the moon, which gives for the longitude of the place 116 deg. 23' 28"; the
latitude, by observation, is 35 deg. 13' 08". From Helvetia to this place, the
positions along the intervening line are laid down, with the longitudes
obtained from the chronometer, which appears to have retained its rate
remarkably well; but henceforward, to the end of our journey, the few
longitudes given are absolute, depending upon a subsequent occultation and
eclipses of the satellites.

In the afternoon of the next day, a war-whoop was heard, such as Indians
make when returning from a victorious enterprise; and soon Carson and
Godey appeared, driving before them a band of horses, recognised by
Fuentes to be part of those they had lost. Two bloody scalps, dangling
from the end of Godey's gun, announced that they had overtaken the Indians
as well as the horses. They informed us, that after Fuentes left them,
from the failure of his horse, they continued the pursuit alone, and
towards night-fall entered the mountains, into which the trail led. After
sunset the moon gave light, and they followed the trail by moonshine until
late in the night, when it entered a narrow defile, and was difficult to
follow. Afraid of losing it in the darkness of the defile, they tied up
their horses, struck no fire, and lay down to sleep, in silence and in
darkness. Here they lay from midnight until morning. At daylight they
resumed the pursuit, and about sunrise discovered the horses; and,
immediately dismounting and tying up their own, they crept cautiously to a
rising ground which intervened, from the crest of which they perceived the
encampment of four lodges close by. They proceeded quietly, and had got
within 30 or 40 yards of their object, when a movement among the horses
discovered them to the Indians. Giving the war-shout, they instantly
charged into the camp, regardless of the number which the _four_
lodges would imply. The Indians received them with a flight of arrows shot
from their long-bows, one of which passed through Godey's shirt-collar,
barely missing the neck: our men fired their rifles upon a steady aim, and
rushed in. Two Indians were stretched upon the ground, fatally pierced
with bullets: the rest fled, except a little lad that was captured. The
scalps of the fallen were instantly stripped off; but in the process, one
of them, who had two balls through his body, sprang to his feet, the blood
streaming from his skinned head, and uttering a hideous howl. An old
squaw, possibly his mother, stopped and looked back from the mountainsides
she was climbing, threatening and lamenting. The frightful spectacle
appalled the stout hearts of our men; but they did what humanity required,
and quickly terminated the agonies of the gory savage. They were now
masters of the camp, which was a pretty little recess in the mountain,
with a fine spring, and apparently safe from all invasion. Great
preparations had been made to feast a large party, for it was a very
proper place to rendezvous, and for the celebration of such orgies as
robbers of the desert would delight in. Several of the best horses had
been killed, skinned, and cut up; for the Indians living in mountains, and
only coming into the plains to rob and murder, make no other use of horses
than to eat them. Large earthen vessels were on the fire, boiling and
stewing the horse-beef; and several baskets, containing 50 or 60 pairs of
moccasins, indicated the presence, or expectation, of a considerable
party. They released the boy, who had given strong evidence of the
stoicism, or something else, of the savage character, in commencing his
breakfast upon a horse's head, as soon as he found he was not to be
killed, but only tied as a prisoner. Their object accomplished, our men
gathered up all the surviving horses, fifteen in number, returned upon
their trail, and rejoined us, at our camp, in the afternoon of the same
day. They had rode about 100 miles, in the pursuit and return, and all in
30 hours. The time, place, object, and numbers considered, this expedition
of Carson and Godey may be considered among the boldest and most
disinterested which the annals of western adventure, so full of daring
deeds, can present. Two men, in a savage desert, pursue day and night an
unknown body of Indians, into the defile of an unknown mountain--attack
them on sight, without counting numbers--and defeat them in an instant--
and for what? To punish the robbers of the desert, and to avenge the
wrongs of Mexicans whom they did not know. I repeat: it was Carson and
Godey who did this--the former an _American_, born in the Boonslick
county of Missouri; the latter a Frenchman, born in St. Louis,--and both
trained to western enterprise from early life.

By the information of Fuentes, we had now to make a long stretch of 40 or
50 miles across a plain which lay between us and the next possible camp;
and we resumed our journey late in the afternoon, with the intention of
traveling through the night, and avoiding the excessive heat of the day,
which was oppressive to our animals. For several hours we traveled across
a high plain, passing, at the opposite side, through a canon by the bed of
a creek, running northwardly into a small lake beyond, and both of them
being dry. We had a warm, moonshiny night; and, traveling directly towards
the north-star, we journeyed now across an open plain, between mountain-
ridges--that on the left being broken, rocky, and bald, according to
Carson and Godey, who had entered here in pursuit of the horses. The plain
appeared covered principally with the _zygophyllum Californicum_,
already mentioned; and the line of our road was marked by the skeletons of
horses, which were strewed to considerable breadth over the plain. We were
always warned on entering one of these long stretches, by the bones of
these animals, which had perished before they could reach the water. About
midnight we reached a considerable stream-bed, now dry--the discharge of
the waters of this basin, (when it collected any)--down which we
descended, in a northwesterly direction. The creek-bed was overgrown with
shrubbery, and several hours before day it brought us to the entrance of a
canon, where we found water, and encamped. This word _canon_ is used
by the Spaniards to signify a defile or gorge in a creek or river, where
high rocks press in close, and make a narrow way, usually difficult, and
often impossible to be passed.

In the morning we found that we had a very poor camping-ground--a swampy,
salty spot, with a little long, unwholesome grass; and the water, which
rose in springs, being useful only to wet the mouth, but entirely too salt
to drink. All around was sand and rocks, and skeletons of horses which had
not been able to find support for their lives. As we were about to start,
we found, at the distance of a few hundred yards, among the hills to the
southward, a spring of tolerably good water, which was a relief to
ourselves; but the place was too poor to remain long, and therefore we
continued on this morning. On the creek were thickets of _spirolobium
odoratum_ (acacia) in bloom, and very fragrant.

Passing through the canon, we entered another sandy basin, through which
the dry stream-bed continued its north-westerly course, in which direction
appeared a high snowy mountain.

We traveled through a barren district, where a heavy gale was blowing
about the loose sand, and, after a ride of eight miles, reached a large
creek of salt and bitter water, running in a westerly direction, to
receive the stream-bed we had left. It is called by the Spaniards
_Amargosa_--the bitter-water of the desert. Where we struck it, the
stream bends; and we continued in a northerly course up the ravine of its
valley, passing on the way a fork from the right, near which occurred a
bed of plants, consisting of a remarkable new genus of _cruciferae_.

Gradually ascending, the ravine opened into a green valley, where, at the
foot of the mountain, were springs of excellent water. We encamped among
groves of the new _acacia_, and there was an abundance of good grass
for the animals.

This was the best camping-ground we had seen since we struck the Spanish
trail. The day's journey was about twelve miles.

29th.--To-day we had to reach the _Archilette_, distant seven miles,
where the Mexican party had been attacked, and, leaving our encampment
early, we traversed a part of the desert the most sterile and repulsive we
had yet seen. Its prominent features were dark _sierras_, naked and
dry; on the plains a few straggling shrubs--among them, cactus of several
varieties. Fuentes pointed out one called by the Spaniards _bisnada_,
which has a juicy pulp, slightly acid, and is eaten by the traveler to
allay thirst. Our course was generally north; and, after crossing an
intervening ridge, we descended into a sandy plain, or basin, in the
middle of which was the grassy spot, with its springs and willow bushes,
which constitutes a camping-place in the desert, and is called the
_Archilette_. The dead silence of the place was ominous; and,
galloping rapidly up, we found only the corpses of the two men: every
thing else was gone. They were naked, mutilated, and pierced with arrows.
Hernandez had evidently fought, and with desperation. He lay in advance of
the willow half-faced tent, which sheltered his family, as if he had come
out to meet danger, and to repulse it from that asylum. One of his hands,
and both his legs, had been cut off. Giacome, who was a large and strong-
looking man, was lying in one of the willow shelters, pierced with arrows.

Of the women no trace could be found, and it was evident they had been
carried off captive. A little lap-dog, which had belonged to Pablo's
mother, remained with the dead bodies, and was frantic with joy at seeing
Pablo; he, poor child, was frantic with grief, and filled the air with
lamentations for his father and mother. _Mi Padre! Mi Madre!_--was
his incessant cry. When we beheld this pitiable sight, and pictured to
ourselves the fate of the two women, carried off by savages so brutal and
so loathsome, all compunction for the scalped-alive Indian ceased; and we
rejoiced that Carson and Godey had been able to give so useful a lesson to
these American Arabs who lie in wait to murder and plunder the innocent
traveler.

We were all too much affected by the sad feelings which the place
inspired, to remain an unnecessary moment. The night we were obliged to
pass there. Early in the morning we left it, having first written a brief
account of what had happened, and put it in the cleft of a pole planted at
the spring, that the approaching caravan might learn the fate of their
friends. In commemoration of the event, we called the place _Ague de
Hernandez_--Hernandez's spring. By observation, its latitude was 35 deg.
51' 21".

30th.--We continued our journey over a district similar to that of the day
before. From the sandy basin, in which was the spring, we entered another
basin of the same character, surrounded everywhere by mountains. Before us
stretched a high range, rising still higher to the left, and terminating
in a snowy mountain.

After a day's march of 24 miles, we reached at evening the bed of a stream
from which the water had disappeared, a little only remaining in holes,
which we increased by digging; and about a mile above, the stream, not yet
entirely sunk, was spread out over the sands, affording a little water for
the animals. The stream came out of the mountains on the left, very
slightly wooded with cottonwood, willow, and acacia, and a few dwarf-oaks;
and grass was nearly as scarce as water. A plant with showy yellow flowers
(_Stanleya integrifolia_) occurred abundantly at intervals for the
last two days, and _eriogonum inflatum_ was among the characteristic
plants.



MAY.


1st.--The air is rough, and overcoats pleasant. The sky is blue, and the
day bright. Our road was over a plain, towards the foot of the mountain;
_zygophyllum Californicum_, now in bloom, with a small yellow flower,
is characteristic of the country; and _cacti_ were very abundant, and
in rich fresh bloom, which wonderfully ornaments this poor country. We
encamped at a spring in the pass, which had been the site of an old
village. Here we found excellent grass, but very little water. We dug out
the old spring, and watered some of our animals. The mountain here was
wooded very slightly with the nut-pine, cedars, and a dwarf species of
oak; and among the shrubs were _Purshia tridentata, artemisia_, and
_ephedra occidentalis_. The numerous shrubs which constitute the
vegetation of the plains are now in bloom, with flowers of white, yellow,
red, and purple. The continual rocks, and want of water and grass, began
to be very hard on our mules and horses; but the principal loss is
occasioned by their crippled feet, the greater part of those left being in
excellent order, and scarcely a day passes without some loss; and, one by
one, Fuentes' horses are constantly dropping behind. Whenever they give
out, he dismounts and cuts off their tails and manes, to make saddle-
girths--the last advantage one can gain from them.

The next day, in a short but rough ride of 12 miles, we crossed the
mountain; and, descending to a small valley plain, encamped at the foot of
the ridge, on the bed of a creek, and found good grass in sufficient
quantity, and abundance of water in holes. The ridge is extremely rugged
and broken, presenting on this side a continued precipice, and probably
affords very few passes. Many _digger_ tracks were seen around us,
but no Indians were visible.

3d.--After a day's journey of 18 miles, in a northeasterly direction, we
encamped in the midst of another very large basin, at a camping ground
called _las Vegas_--a term which the Spaniards use to signify fertile
or marshy plains, in contradistinction to _llanos_, which they apply
to dry and sterile plains. Two narrow streams of clear water, four or five
feet deep, gush suddenly, with a quick current, from two singularly large
springs; these, and other waters of the basin, pass out in a gap to the
eastward. The taste of the water is good, but rather too warm to be
agreeable; the temperature being 71 deg. in the one, and 73 deg. in the other.
They, however, afford a delightful bathing-place.

4th.--We started this morning earlier than usual, traveling in a
northeasterly direction across the plain. The new acacia (_spirolobium
odoratum_) has now become the characteristic tree of the country; it is
in bloom, and its blossoms are very fragrant. The day was still, and the
heat, which soon became very oppressive, appeared to bring out strongly
the refreshing scent of the zygophyllaceous shrubs and the sweet perfume
of the acacia. The snowy ridge we had just crossed looked out
conspicuously in the northwest. In about five hours' ride, we crossed a
gap in the surrounding ridge, and the appearance of skeletons of horses
very soon warned us that we were engaged in another dry _jornada_,
which proved the longest we had made in all our journey--between fifty and
sixty miles without a drop of water.

Travelers through countries affording water and timber can have no
conception of our intolerable thirst while journeying over the hot yellow
sands of this elevated country, where the heated air seems to be entirely
deprived of moisture. We ate occasionally the _bisnada_, and
moistened our mouths with the acid of the sour dock, (_rumex
venosus_.) Hourly expecting to find water, we continued to press on
until towards midnight, when, after a hard and uninterrupted march of 16
hours, our wild mules began running ahead; and in a mile or two we came to
a bold running stream--so keen is the sense of that animal, in these
desert regions, in scenting at a distance this necessary of life.

According to the information we had received, Sevier river was a tributary
of the Colorado; and this, accordingly, should have been one of its
affluents. It proved to be the _Rio de los Angeles_, (river of the
Angels)--a branch of the _Rio Virgen_. (river of the Virgin.)

5th.--On account of our animals, it was necessary to remain to-day at this
place. Indians crowded numerously around us in the morning; and we were
obliged to keep arms in hand all day, to keep them out of the camp. They
began to surround the horses, which, for the convenience of grass, we were
guarding a little above, on the river. These were immediately driven in,
and kept close to the camp.

In the darkness of the night we had made a very bad encampment, our fires
being commanded by a rocky bluff within 50 yards; but, notwithstanding, we
had the river and small thickets of willows on the other side. Several
times during the day the camp was insulted by the Indians; but, peace
being our object, I kept simply on the defensive. Some of the Indians were
on the bottoms, and others haranguing us from the bluffs; and they were
scattered in every direction over the hills. Their language being probably
a dialect of the _Utah_, with the aid of signs some of our people
could comprehend them very well. They were the same people who had
murdered the Mexicans; and towards us their disposition was evidently
hostile, nor were we well disposed towards them. They were barefooted, and
nearly naked; their hair gathered up into a knot behind; and with his bow,
each man carried a quiver with thirty or forty arrows partially drawn out.
Besides these, each held in his hand two or three arrows for instant
service. Their arrows are barbed with a very clear translucent stone, a
species of opal, nearly as hard as the diamond; and, shot from their long
bow, are almost as effective as a gunshot. In these Indians, I was
forcibly struck by an expression of countenance resembling that in a beast
of prey; and all their actions are those of wild animals. Joined to the
restless motion of the eye, there is a want of mind--an absence of
thought--and an action wholly by impulse, strongly expressed, and which
constantly recalls the similarity.

A man who appeared to be a chief, with two or three others forced himself
into the camp, bringing with him his arms, in spite of my orders to the
contrary. When shown our weapons, he bored his ear with his fingers, and
said he could not hear. "Why," said he, "there are none of you." Counting
the people around the camp, and including in the number a mule that was
being shod, he made out 22. "So many," said he, showing the number, "and
we--we are a great many;" and he pointed to the hills and mountains round
about. "If you have your arms," said he, twanging his bow, "we have
these." I had some difficulty in restraining the people, particularly
Carson, who felt an insult of this kind as much as if it had been given by
a more responsible being. "Don't say that, old man," said he; "don't you
say that--your life's in danger"--speaking in good English; and probably
the old man was nearer to his end than he will be before he meets it.

Several animals had been necessarily left behind near the camp last night;
and early in the morning, before me Indians made their appearance, several
men were sent to bring them in. When I was beginning to be uneasy at their
absence, they returned with information that they had been driven off from
the trail by Indians; and, having followed the tracks in a short distance,
they found the animals cut up and spread out upon bushes. In the evening I
gave a fatigued horse to some of the Indians for a feast; and the village
which carried him off refused to share with the others, who made loud
complaints from the rocks of the partial distribution. Many of these
Indians had long sticks, hooked at the end, which they use in hauling out
lizards, and other small animals, from their holes. During the day they
occasionally roasted and ate lizards at our fires. These belong to the
people who are generally known under the name of _Diggers_; and to
these I have more particularly had reference when occasionally speaking of
a people whose sole occupation is to procure food sufficient to support
existence. The formation here consists of fine yellow sandstone,
alternating with a coarse conglomerate, in which the stones are from the
size of ordinary gravel to six or eight inches in diameter. This is the
formation which renders the surface of the country so rocky, and gives us
now a road alternately of loose heavy sands and rolled stones, which
cripple the animals in a most extraordinary manner.

On the following morning we left the _Rio de los Angeles_, and
continued our way through the same desolate and revolting country, where
lizards were the only animal, and the tracks of the lizard eaters the
principal sign of human beings. After twenty miles' march through a road
of hills and heavy sands, we reached the most dreary river I have ever
seen--a deep rapid stream, almost a torrent, passing swiftly by, and
roaring against obstructions. The banks were wooded with willow, acacia,
and a frequent plant of the country already mentioned, (_Garrya
elliptica_,) growing in thickets, resembling willow, and bearing a
small pink flower. Crossing it we encamped on the left bank, where we
found a very little grass. Our three remaining steers, being entirely
given out, were killed here. By the boiling point, the elevation of the
river here is 4,060 feet; and latitude, by observation, 36 deg.41' 33". The
stream was running towards the southwest, and appeared to come from a
snowy mountain in the north. It proved to be the _Rio Virgen_--a
tributary to the Colorado. Indians appeared in bands on the hills, but did
not come into camp. For several days we continued our journey up the
river, the bottoms of which were thickly overgrown with various kinds of
brush; and the sandy soil was absolutely covered with the tracks of
_Diggers_, who followed us stealthily, like a band of wolves; and we
had no opportunity to leave behind, even for a few hours, the tired
animals, in order that they might be brought into camp after a little
repose. A horse or mule, left behind, was taken off in a moment. On the
evening of the 8th, having traveled 28 miles up the river from our first
encampment on it, we encamped at a little grass-plat, where a spring of
cool water issued from the bluff. On the opposite side was a grove of
cottonwoods at the mouth of a fork, which here enters the river. On either
side the valley is bounded by ranges of mountains, everywhere high, rocky,
and broken. The caravan road was lost and scattered in the sandy country,
and we had been following an Indian trail up the river. The hunters the
next day were sent out to reconnoitre, and in the mean time we moved about
a mile farther up, where we found a good little patch of grass. There
being only sufficient grass for the night, the horses were sent with a
strong guard in charge of Tabeau to a neighboring hollow, where they might
pasture during the day; and, to be ready in case the Indians should make
any attempt on the animals, several of the best horses were picketed at
the camp. In a few hours the hunters returned, having found a convenient
ford in the river, and discovered the Spanish trail on the other side.

I had been engaged in arranging plants; and, fatigued with the heat of the
day, I fell asleep in the afternoon, and did not awake until sundown.
Presently Carson came to me, and reported that Tabeau, who early in the
day had left his post, and, without my knowledge, rode back to the camp we
had left, in search of a lame mule, had not returned. While we were
speaking, a smoke rose suddenly from the cottonwood grove below, which
plainly told us what had befallen him; it was raised to inform the
surrounding Indians that a blow had been struck, and to tell them to be on
their guard. Carson, with several men well mounted, was instantly sent
down the river, but returned in the night without tidings of the missing
man. They went to the camp we had left, but neither he nor the mule was
there. Searching down the river, they found the tracks of the mule,
evidently driven along by Indians, whose tracks were on each side of those
made by the animal. After going several miles, they came to the mule
itself, standing in some bushes, mortally wounded in the side by an arrow,
and left to die, that it might be afterwards butchered for food. They also
found, in another place, as they were hunting about on the ground for
Tabeau's tracks, something that looked like a little puddle of blood, but
which the darkness prevented them from verifying. With these details they
returned to our camp, and their report saddened all our hearts.

10th.--This morning, as soon as there was light enough to follow tracks, I
set out myself, with Mr. Fitzpatrick and several men, in search of Tabeau.
We went to the spot where the appearance of puddled blood had been seen;
and this, we saw at once, had been the place where he fell and died. Blood
upon the leaves, and beaten-down bushes, showed that he had got his wound
about twenty paces from where he fell, and that he had struggled for his
life. He had probably been shot through the lungs with an arrow. From the
place where he lay and bled, it could be seen that he had been dragged to
the river bank, and thrown into it. No vestige of what had belonged to him
could be found, except a fragment of his horse equipment. Horse, gun,
clothes--all became the prey of these Arabs of the New World.

Tabeau had been one of our best men, and his unhappy death spread a gloom
over our party. Men, who have gone through such dangers and sufferings as
we had seen, become like brothers, and feel each other's loss. To defend
and avenge each other, is the deep feeling of all. We wished to avenge his
death; but the condition of our horses, languishing for grass and repose,
forbade an expedition into unknown mountains. We knew the tribe who had
done the mischief--the same which had been insulting our camp. They knew
what they deserved, and had the discretion to show themselves to us no
more. The day before, they infested our camp; now, not one appeared; nor
did we ever afterwards see but one who even belonged to the same tribe,
and he at a distance.

Our camp was in a basin below a deep canon--a gap of two thousand feet
deep in the mountain--through which the _Rio Virgen_ passes, and
where no man or beast could follow it. The Spanish trail, which we had
lost in the sands of the basin, was on the opposite side of the river. We
crossed over to it, and followed it northwardly towards a gap which was
visible in the mountain. We approached it by a defile, rendered difficult
for our barefooted animals by the rocks strewed along it; and here the
country changed its character. From the time we entered the desert, the
mountains had been bald and rocky; here they began to be wooded with cedar
and pine, and clusters of trees gave shelter to birds--a new and welcome
sight--which could not have lived in the desert we had passed.

Descending a long hollow, towards the narrow valley of a stream, we saw
before us a snowy mountain, far beyond which appeared another more lofty
still. Good bunch-grass began to appear on the hill-sides, and here we
found a singular variety of interesting shrubs. The changed appearance of
the country infused among our people a more lively spirit, which was
heightened by finding at evening a halting-place of very good grass on the
clear waters of the _Santa Clara_ fork of the _Rio Virgen_.

11th.--The morning was cloudy and quite cool, with a shower of rain--the
first we have had since entering the desert, a period of 27 days--and we
seem to have entered a different climate, with the usual weather of the
Rocky mountains. Our march to-day was very laborious, over very broken
ground, along the Santa Clara river; but then the country is no longer so
distressingly desolate. The stream is prettily wooded with sweet
cottonwood trees--some of them of large size; and on the hills, where the
nut-pine is often seen, a good and wholesome grass occurs frequently. This
cottonwood, which is now in fruit, is of a different species from any in
Michaux's Sylva. Heavy dark clouds covered the sky in the evening and a
cold wind sprang up, making fires and overcoats comfortable.

12th.--A little above our encampment the river forked, and we continued up
the right-hand branch, gradually ascending towards the summit of the
mountain. As we rose towards the head of the creek, the snowy mountains on
our right showed out handsomely--high and rugged, with precipices, and
covered with snow for about two thousand feet from their summits down. Our
animals were somewhat repaid for their hard marches by an excellent
camping-ground on the summit of the ridge, which forms here the dividing
chain between the waters of the _Rio Virgen_, which goes south to the
Colorado, and those of Sevier river, flowing northwardly, and belonging to
the Great Basin. We considered ourselves as crossing the rim of the basin;
and, entering it at this point, we found here an extensive mountain
meadow, rich in bunch-grass, and fresh with numerous springs of clear
water, all refreshing and delightful to look upon. It was, in fact, that
_las Vegas de Santa Clara_, which had been so long presented to us as
the terminating point of the desert, and where the annual caravan from
California to New Mexico halted and recruited for some weeks. It was a
very suitable place to recover from the fatigue and exhaustion of a
month's suffering in the hot and sterile desert. The meadow was about a
mile wide, some ten miles long, bordered by grassy hills and mountains--
some of the latter rising two thousand feet, and white with snow down to
the level of the _vegas_. Its elevation above the sea was 5,280 feet;
latitude, by observation, 37 deg. 28' 28", and its distance from where we
first struck the Spanish trail about 400 miles. Counting from the time we
reached the desert, and began to skirt, at our descent from Walker's Pass
in the Sierra Nevada, we had traveled 550 miles, occupying 27 days, in
that inhospitable region. In passing before the Great Caravan, we had the
advantage of finding more grass, but the disadvantage of finding also the
marauding savages, who had gathered down upon the trail, waiting the
approach of that prey. This greatly increased our labors, besides costing
us the life of an excellent man. We had to move all day in a state of
watch, and prepared for combat--scouts and flankers out, a front and rear
division of our men, and baggage-animals in the centre. At night, camp
duty was severe. Those who had toiled all day, had to guard, by turns, the
camp and the horses, all night. Frequently one-third of the whole party
were on guard at once; and nothing but this vigilance saved us from
attack. We were constantly dogged by bands, and even whole tribes of
marauders; and although Tabeau was killed, and our camp infested and
insulted by some, while swarms of them remained on the hills and mountain-
sides, there was manifestly a consultation and calculation going on, to
decide the question of attacking us. Having reached the resting-place of
the _Vegas de Santa Clara_, we had complete relief from the heat and
privations of the desert, and some relaxation from the severity of camp
duty. Some relaxation, and relaxation only--for camp-guards, horse-guards,
and scouts, are indispensable from the time of leaving the frontiers of
Missouri until we return to them.

After we left the _Vegas_, we had the gratification to be joined by
the famous hunter and trapper, Mr. Joseph Walker, whom I have before
mentioned, and who now became our guide. He had left California with the
great caravan; and perceiving, from the signs along the trail, that there
was a party of whites ahead, which he judged to be mine, he detached
himself from the caravan, with eight men, (Americans,) and ran the
gauntlet of the desert robbers, killing two, and getting some of the
horses wounded, and succeeded in overtaking us. Nothing but his great
knowledge of the country, great courage and presence of mind, and good
rifles, could have brought him safe from such a perilous enterprise.

13th.--We remained one day at this noted place of rest and refreshment;
and, resuming our progress in a northwestwardly direction, we descended
into a broad valley, the water of which is tributary to Sevier lake. The
next day we came in sight of the Wahsatch range of mountains on the right,
white with snow, and here forming the southeast part of the Great Basin.
Sevier lake, upon the waters of which we now were, belonged to the system
of lakes in the eastern part of the Basin--of which, the Great Salt lake,
and its southern limb, the Utah lake, were the principal--towards the
region of which we were now approaching. We traveled for several days in
this direction, within the rim of the Great Basin, crossing little streams
which bore to the left for Sevier lake; and plainly seeing, by the changed
aspect of the country, that we were entirely clear of the desert, and
approaching the regions which appertained to the system of the Rocky
mountains. We met, in this traverse, a few mounted Utah Indians, in
advance of their main body, watching the approach of the great caravan.

16th.--We reached a small salt lake, about seven miles long and one broad,
at the northern extremity of which we encamped for the night. This little
lake, which well merits its characteristic name, lies immediately at the
base of the Wah-satch range, and nearly opposite a gap in that chain of
mountains through which the Spanish trail passes; and which, again falling
upon the waters of the Colorado, and crossing that river, proceeds over a
mountainous country to Santa Fe.

17th.--After 440 miles of traveling on a trail, which served for a road,
we again found ourselves under the necessity of exploring a track through
the wilderness. The Spanish trail had borne off to the southeast, crossing
the Wah-satch range. Our course led to the northeast, along the foot of
that range, and leaving it on the right. The mountain presented itself to
us under the form of several ridges, rising one above the other, rocky,
and wooded with pine and cedar; the last ridge covered with snow. Sevier
river, flowing northwardly to the lake of the same name, collects its
principal waters from this section of the Wah-satch chain. We had now
entered a region of great pastoral promise, abounding with fine streams,
the rich bunch-grass, soil that would produce wheat, and indigenous flax
growing as if it had been sown. Consistent with the general character of
its bordering mountains, this fertility of soil and vegetation does not
extend far into the Great Basin. Mr. Joseph Walker, our guide, and who has
more knowledge of these parts than any man I know, informed me that all
the country to the left was unknown to him, and that even the
_Digger_ tribes, which frequented Lake Sevier, could tell him nothing
about it.

20th.--We met a band of Utah Indians, headed by a well-known chief, who
had obtained the American or English name of Walker, by which he is quoted
and well known. They were all mounted, armed with rifles, and used their
rifles well. The chief had a fusee, which he carried slung, in addition to
his rifle. They were journeying slowly towards the Spanish trail, to levy
their usual tribute upon the great California caravan. They were robbers
of a higher order than those of the desert. They conducted their
depredations with form, and under the color of trade and toll, for passing
through their country. Instead of attacking and killing, they affect to
purchase--taking the horses they like, and giving something nominal in
return. The chief was quite civil to me. He was personally acquainted with
his namesake, our guide, who made my name known to him. He knew of my
expedition of 1842; and, as tokens of friendship, and proof that we had
met, proposed an interchange of presents. We had no great store to choose
out of; so he gave me a Mexican blanket, and I gave him a very fine one
which I had obtained at Vancouver.

23d.--We reached Sevier river--the main tributary of the lake of the same
name--which, deflecting from its northern course, here breaks from the
mountains to enter the lake. It was really a fine river, from eight to
twelve feet deep; and after searching in vain for a fordable place, we
made little boats (or rather rafts) out of bulrushes, and ferried across.
These rafts are readily made, and give a good conveyance across a river.
The rushes are bound in bundles, and tied hard; the bundles are tied down
upon poles, as close as they can be pressed, and fashioned like a boat, in
being broader in the middle and pointed at the ends. The rushes, being
tubular and jointed, are light and strong. The raft swims well, and is
shoved along by poles, or paddled, or pushed and pulled by swimmers, or
drawn by ropes. On this occasion, we used ropes--one at each end--and
rapidly drew our little float backwards and forwards from shore to shore.
The horses swam. At our place of crossing, which was the most northern
point of its bend, the latitude was 39 deg. 22' 19". The banks sustained the
character for fertility and vegetation which we had seen for some days.
The name of this river and lake was an indication of our approach to
regions of which our people had been the explorers. It was probably named
after some American trapper or hunter, and was the first American name we
had met with since leaving the Columbia river. From the Dalles to the
point where we turned across the Sierra Nevada, near 1,000 miles, we heard
Indian names, and the greater part of the distance none; from Nueva
Helvetia (Sacramento) to _las Vegas de Santa Clara_, about 1,000
more, all were Spanish; from the Mississippi to the Pacific, French and
American or English were intermixed; and this prevalence of names
indicates the national character of the first explorers.

We had here the misfortune to lose one of our people, Francois Badeau, who
had been with me on both expeditions; during which he had always been one
of my most faithful and efficient men. He was killed in drawing towards
him a gun by the muzzle; the hammer being caught, discharged the gun,
driving the ball through his head. We buried him on the banks of the
river.

Crossing the next day a slight ridge along the river, we entered a
handsome mountain valley covered with fine grass, and directed our course
towards a high snowy peak, at the foot of which lay the Utah lake. On our
right was a bed of high mountains, their summits covered with snow,
constituting the dividing ridge between the Basin waters and those of the
Colorado. At noon we fell in with a party of Utah Indians coming out of
the mountain, and in the afternoon encamped on a tributary to the lake,
which is separated from the waters of the Sevier by very slight dividing
grounds.

Early the next day we came in sight of the lake; and, as we descended to
the broad bottoms of the Spanish fork, three horsemen were seen galloping
towards us, who proved to be Utah Indians--scouts from a village, which
was encamped near the mouth of the river. They were armed with rifles, and
their horses were in good condition. We encamped near them, on the Spanish
fork, which is one of the principal tributaries to the lake. Finding the
Indians troublesome, and desirous to remain here a day, we removed the
next morning farther down the lake and encamped on a fertile bottom near
the foot of the same mountainous ridge which borders the Great Salt lake,
and along which we had journeyed the previous September. Here the
principal plants in bloom were two, which were remarkable as affording to
the Snake Indians--the one an abundant supply of food, and the other the
most useful among the applications which they use for wounds. These were
the kooyah plant, growing in fields of extraordinary luxuriance, and
_convollaria stellata_, which, from the experience of Mr. Walker, is
the best remedial plant known among these Indians. A few miles below us
was another village of Indians, from which we obtained some fish--among
them a few salmon trout, which were very much inferior in size to those
along the Californian mountains. The season for taking them had not yet
arrived; but the Indians were daily expecting them to come up out of the
lake.

We had now accomplished an object we had in view when leaving the Dalles
of the Columbia in November last: we had reached the Utah lake; but by a
route very different from the one we had intended, and without sufficient
time remaining to make the examinations which we desired. It is a lake of
note in this country, under the dominion of the Utahs, who resort to it
for fish. Its greatest breadth is about fifteen miles, stretching far to
the north, narrowing as it goes, and connecting with the Great Salt lake.
This is the report, which I believe to be correct; but it is fresh water,
while the other is not only salt, but a saturated solution of salt; and
here is a problem which requires to be solved. It is almost entirely
surrounded by mountains, walled on the north and east by a high and snowy
range, which supplies to it a fan of tributary streams. Among these, the
principal river is the _Timpan-ogo_--signifying Rock river--a name
which the rocky grandeur of its scenery, remarkable even in this country
of rugged mountains, has obtained for it from the Indians. In the Utah
language, _og-wah-be_, the term for river, when coupled with other
words in common conversation, is usually abbreviated to _ogo; timpan_
signifying rock. It is probable that this river furnished the name which
on the older maps has been generally applied to the Great Salt lake; but
for this I have preferred a name which will be regarded as highly
characteristic, restricting to the river the descriptive term Timpan-ogo,
and leaving for the lake into which it flows the name of the people who
reside on its shores, and by which it is known throughout the country.

The volume of water afforded by the Timpan-ogo is probably equal to that
of the Sevier river; and, at the time of our visit, there was only one
place in the lake-valley at which the Spanish fork was fordable. In the
cove of the mountains along its eastern shore, the lake is bordered by a
plain, where the soil is generally good, and in greater part fertile;
watered by a delta of prettily timbered streams. This would be an
excellent locality for stock-farms; it is generally covered with good
bunch-grass, and would abundantly produce the ordinary grains.

In arriving at the Utah lake, we had completed an immense circuit of
twelve degrees diameter north and south, and ten degrees east and west;
and found ourselves, in May, 1844, on the same sheet of water which we had
left in September, 1843. The Utah is the southern limb of the Great Salt
lake; and thus we had seen that remarkable sheet of water both at its
northern and southern extremity, and were able to fix its position at
these two points. The circuit which we had made, and which had cost us
eight months of time, and 3,500 miles of traveling, had given us a view of
Oregon and of North California from the Rocky mountains to the Pacific
ocean, and of the two principal streams which form bays or harbors on the
coast of that sea. Having completed this circuit, and being now about to
turn the back upon the Pacific slope of our continent, and to recross the
Rocky mountains, it is natural to look back upon our footsteps, and take
some brief view of the leading features and general structure of the
country we had traversed. These are peculiar and striking, and differ
essentially from the Atlantic side of the country. The mountains all are
higher, more numerous, and more distinctly defined in their ranges and
directions; and, what is so contrary to the natural order of formations,
one of these ranges, which is near the coast, (the Sierra Nevada and the
Coast Range,) presents higher elevations and peaks than any which are to
be found in the Rocky mountains themselves. In our eight months' circuit,
we were never out of sight of snow; and the Sierra Nevada, where we
crossed it, was near 2,000 feet higher than the South Pass in the Rocky
mountains. In height, these mountains greatly exceed those of the Atlantic
side, constantly presenting peaks which enter the region of eternal snow;
and some of them volcanic, and in a frequent state of activity. They are
seen at great distances, and guide the traveler in his course.

The course and elevation of these ranges give direction to the rivers and
character to the coast. No great river does, or can, take its rise below
the Cascade and Sierra Nevada range; the distance to the sea is too short
to admit of it. The rivers of the San Francisco bay, which are the largest
after the Columbia, are local to that bay, and lateral to the coast,
having their sources about on a line with the Dalles of the Columbia, and
running each in a valley of its own, between the Coast range and the
Cascade and Sierra Nevada range. The Columbia is the only river which
traverses the whole breadth of the country, breaking through all the
ranges, and entering the sea. Drawing its waters from a section of ten
degrees of latitude in the Rocky mountains, which are collected into one
stream by three main forks (Lewis's, Clark's, and the North fork) near the
centre of the Oregon valley, this great river thence proceeds by a single
channel to the sea, while its three forks lead each to a pass in the
mountains, which opens the way into the interior of the continent. This
fact in relation to the rivers of this region, gives an immense value to
the Columbia. Its mouth is the only inlet and outlet to and from the sea:
its three forks lead to the passes in the mountains: it is, therefore, the
only line of communication between the Pacific and the interior of North
America; and all operations of war or commerce, of national or social
intercourse, must be conducted upon it. This gives it a value beyond
estimation, and would involve irreparable injury if lost. In this unity
and concentration of its waters, the Pacific side of our continent differs
entirely from the Atlantic side, where the waters of the Alleghany
mountains are dispersed into many rivers, having their different entrances
into the sea, and opening many lines of communication with the interior.

The Pacific coast is equally different from that of the Atlantic. The
coast of the Atlantic is low and open, indented with numerous bays,
sounds, and river estuaries, accessible everywhere, and opening by many
channels into the heart of the country. The Pacific coast, on the
contrary, is high and compact, with few bays, and but one that opens into
the heart of the country. The immediate coast is what the seamen call
_iron-bound_. A little within, it is skirted by two successive ranges
of mountains, standing as ramparts between the sea and the interior of the
country; and to get through which there is but one gate, and that narrow
and easily defended. This structure of the coast, backed by these two
ranges of mountains, with its concentration and unity of waters, gives to
the country an immense military strength, and will probably render Oregon
the most impregnable country in the world.

Differing so much from the Atlantic side of our continent, in coast,
mountains, and rivers, the Pacific side differs from it in another most
rare and singular feature--that of the Great Interior Basin, of which I
have so often spoken, and the whole form and character of which I was so
anxious to ascertain. Its existence is vouched for by such of the American
traders and hunters as have some knowledge of that region; the structure
of the Sierra Nevada range of mountains requires it to be there; and my
own observations confirm it. Mr. Joseph Walker, who is so well acquainted
in these parts, informed me that, from the Great Salt lake west, there was
a succession of lakes and rivers which have no outlet to the sea, nor any
connection with the Columbia, or with the Colorado of the Gulf of
California. He described some of these lakes as being large, with numerous
streams, and even considerable rivers falling into them. In fact, all
concur in the general report of these interior rivers and lakes; and, for
want of understanding the force and power of evaporation, which so soon
establishes an equilibrium between the loss and supply of waters, the
fable of whirlpools and subterraneous outlets has gained belief, as the
only imaginable way of carrying off the waters which have no visible
discharge. The structure of the country would require this formation of
interior lakes; for the waters which would collect between the Rocky
mountains and the Sierra Nevada, not being able to cross this formidable
barrier, nor to get to the Columbia or the Colorado, must naturally
collect into reservoirs, each of which would have its little system of
streams and rivers to supply it. This would be the natural effect; and
what I saw went to confirm it. The Great Salt lake is a formation of this
kind, and quite a large one; and having many streams, and one considerable
river, 400 or 500 miles long, falling into it. This lake and river I saw
and examined myself; and also saw the Wah-satch and Bear River mountains,
which enclose the waters of the lake on the east, and constitute, in that
quarter, the rim of the Great Basin. Afterwards, along the eastern base of
the Sierra Nevada, where we traveled for 42 days, I saw the line of lakes
and rivers which lie at the foot of that Sierra; and which Sierra is the
western rim of the Basin. In going down Lewis's fork and the main
Columbia, I crossed only inferior streams coming in from the left, such as
could draw their water from a short distance only; and I often saw the
mountains at their heads white with snow,--which, all accounts said,
divided the waters of the _desert_ from those of the Columbia, and
which could be no other than the range of mountains which form the rim of
the Basin on its northern side. And in returning from California along the
Spanish trail, as far as the head of the Santa Clara fork of the Rio
Virgen, I crossed only small streams making their way south to the
Colorado, or lost in sand, (as the Mo-hah-ve;) while to the left, lofty
mountains, their summits white with snow, were often visible, and which
must have turned water to the north as well as to the south, and thus
constituted, on this part, the southern rim of the Basin. At the head of
the Santa Clara fork, and in the Vegas de Santa Clara, we crossed the
ridge which parted the two systems of waters. We entered the Basin at that
point, and have traveled in it ever since; having its southeastern rim
(the Wah-satch mountain) on the right, and crossing the streams which flow
down into it. The existence of the Basin is, therefore, an established
fact in my mind: its extent and contents are yet to be better ascertained.
It cannot be less than 400 or 500 miles each way, and must lie principally
in the Alta California; the demarcation latitude of 42 deg. probably cutting a
segment from the north part of the rim. Of its interior, but little is
known. It is called a _desert_, and, from what I saw of it, sterility
may be its prominent characteristic; but where there is so much water,
there must be some _oasis_. The great river, and the great lake,
reported, may not be equal to the report; but where there is so much snow,
there must be streams; and where there is no outlet, there must be lakes
to hold the accumulated waters, or sands to swallow them up. In this
eastern part of the Basin, containing Sevier, Utah, and the Great Salt
lakes, and the rivers and creeks falling into them, we know there is good
soil and good grass, adapted to civilized settlements. In the western
part, on Salmon Trout river, and some other streams, the same remark may
be made.

The contents of this great Basin are yet to be examined. That it is
peopled, we know; but miserably and sparsely. From all that I heard and
saw, I should say that humanity here appeared in its lowest form, and in
its most elementary state. Dispersed in single families; without fire-
arms; eating seeds and insects; digging roots, (and hence their name,)--
such is the condition of the greater part. Others are a degree higher, and
live in communities upon some lake or river that supplies fish, and from
which they repulse the miserable _Digger_. The rabbit is the largest
animal known in this desert; its flesh affords a little meat; and their
bag-like covering is made of its skins. The wild sage is their only wood,
and here it is of extraordinary size--sometimes a foot in diameter, and
six or eight feet high. It serves for fuel, for building material, for
shelter to the rabbits, and for some sort of covering for the feet and
legs in cold weather. Such are the accounts of the inhabitants and
productions of the Great Basin; and which, though imperfect, must have
some foundation, and excite our desire to know the whole.

The whole idea of such a desert, and such a people, is a novelty in our
country, and excites Asiatic, not American ideas. Interior basins, with
their own systems of lakes and rivers, and often sterile, are common
enough in Asia; people still in the elementary state of families, living
in deserts, with no other occupation than the mere animal search for food,
may still be seen in that ancient quarter of the globe; but in America
such things are new and strange, unknown and unsuspected, and discredited
when related. But I flatter myself that what is discovered, though not
enough to satisfy curiosity, is sufficient to excite it, and that
subsequent explorations will complete what has been commenced.

This account of the Great Basin, it will be remembered, belongs to the
Alta California, and has no application to Oregon, whose capabilities may
justify a separate remark. Referring to my journal for particular
descriptions, and for sectional boundaries between good and bad districts,
I can only say, in general and comparative terms, that, in that branch of
agriculture which implies the cultivation of grains and staple crops, it
would be inferior to the Atlantic States, though many parts are superior
for wheat; while in the rearing of flocks and herds it would claim a high
place. Its grazing capabilities are great; and even in the indigenous
grass now there, an element of individual and national wealth may be
found. In fact, the valuable grasses begin within one hundred and fifty
miles of the Missouri frontier, and extend to the Pacific ocean. East of
the Rocky mountains, it is the short curly grass, on which the buffalo
delights to feed, (whence its name of buffalo,) and which is still good
when dry and apparently dead. West of those mountains it is a larger
growth, in clusters, and hence called bunch-grass, and which has a second
or fall growth. Plains and mountains both exhibit them; and I have seen
good pasturage at an elevation of ten thousand feet. In this spontaneous
product the trading or traveling caravans can find subsistence for their
animals; and in military operations any number of cavalry may be moved,
and any number of cattle may be driven; and thus men and horses be
supported on long expeditions, and even in winter, in the sheltered
situations.

Commercially, the value of the Oregon country must be great, washed as it
is by the North Pacific ocean--fronting Asia--producing many of the
elements of commerce--mild and healthy in its climate--and becoming, as it
naturally will, a thoroughfare for the East India and China trade.

Turning our faces once more eastward, on the morning of the 27th we left
the Utah lake, and continued for two days to ascend the Spanish fork,
which is dispersed in numerous branches among very rugged mountains, which
afford few passes, and render a familiar acquaintance with them necessary
to the traveler. The stream can scarcely be said to have a valley, the
mountains rising often abruptly from the water's edge; but a good trail
facilitated our traveling, and there were frequent bottoms, covered with
excellent grass. The streams are prettily and variously wooded; and
everywhere the mountain shows grass and timber.

At our encampment on the evening of the 28th, near the head of one of the
branches we had ascended, strata of bituminous limestone were displayed in
an escarpment on the river bluffs, in which were contained a variety of
fossil shells of new species.

It will be remembered, that in crossing this ridge about 120 miles to the
northward in August last, strata of fossiliferous rock were discovered,
which have been referred to the oolitic period; it is probable that these
rocks also belong to the same formation.

A few miles from this encampment we reached the bed of the stream, and
crossing, by an open and easy pass, the dividing ridge which separates the
waters of the Great Basin from those of the Colorado, we reached the head
branches of one of its larger tributaries, which, from the decided color
of its waters, has received the name of White river. The snows of the
mountains were now beginning to melt, and all the little rivulets were
running by in rivers, and rapidly becoming difficult to ford. Continuing a
few miles up a branch of White river, we crossed a dividing ridge between
its waters and those of _Uintah_. The approach to the pass, which is
the best known to Mr. Walker, was somewhat difficult for packs, and
impracticable for wagons--all the streams being shut in by narrow ravines,
and the narrow trail along the steep hill-sides allowing the passage of
only one animal at a time. From the summit we had a fine view of the snowy
Bear River range, and there were still remaining beds of snow on the cold
sides of the hills near the pass. We descended by a narrow ravine, in
which was rapidly gathered a little branch of the Uintah, and halted to
noon about 1,500 feet below the pass, at an elevation, by the boiling
point, of 6,900 feet above the sea.

The next day we descended along the river, and about noon reached a point
where three forks come together. Fording one of these with some
difficulty, we continued up the middle branch, which, from the color of
its waters, is named the Red river. The few passes, and extremely rugged
nature of the country, give to it great strength, and secure the Utahs
from the intrusion of their enemies. Crossing in the afternoon a somewhat
broken highland, covered in places with fine grasses, and with cedar on
the hill-sides, we encamped at evening on another tributary to the
_Uintah_, called the _Duchesne_ fork. The water was very clear,
the stream not being yet swollen by the melting snows, and we forded it
without any difficulty. It is a considerable branch, being spread out by
islands, the largest arm being about a hundred feet wide, and the name it
bears is probably that of some old French trapper.

The next day we continued down the river, which we were twice obliged to
cross; and, the water having risen during the night, it was almost
everywhere too deep to be forded. After traveling about sixteen miles, we
encamped again on the left bank.

I obtained here an occultation of _Scorpii_ at the dark limb of the
moon, which gives for the longitude of the place 112 deg. 18' 30", and the
latitude 40 deg. 18' 53".


JUNE.

1st.--We left to-day the Duchesne fork, and, after traversing a broken
country for about sixteen miles, arrived at noon at another considerable
branch, a river of great velocity, to which the trappers have improperly
given the name of Lake fork. The name applied to it by the Indians
signifies great swiftness, and is the same which they use to express the
speed of a racehorse. It is spread out in various channels over several
hundred yards, and is everywhere too deep and swift to be forded. At this
season of the year, there is an uninterrupted noise from the large rocks
which are rolled along the bed. After infinite difficulty, and the delay
of a day, we succeeded in getting the stream bridged, and got over with
the loss of one of our animals. Continuing our route across a broken
country, of which the higher parts were rocky and timbered with cedar, and
the lower parts covered with good grass, we reached, on the afternoon of
the 3d, the Uintah fort, a trading-post belonging to Mr. A. Roubideau, on
the principal fork of the Uintah river. We found the stream nearly as
rapid and difficult as the Lake fork, divided into several channels, which
were too broad to be bridged. With the aid of guides from the fort, we
succeeded, with very great difficulty, in fording it, and encamped near
the fort, which is situated a short distance above the junction of two
branches which make the river.

By an immersion of the first satellite, (agreeing well with the result of
the occultation observed at the Duchesne fork,) the longitude of the post
is 109 deg. 56' 42", the latitude 40 deg. 27' 45".

It has a motley garrison of Canadian and Spanish _engages_ and
hunters, with the usual number of Indian women. We obtained a small supply
of sugar and coffee, with some dried meat and a cow, which was a very
acceptable change from the _pinoli_ on which we had subsisted for
some weeks past. I strengthened my party at this place by the addition of
Auguste Archambeau, an excellent voyageur and hunter, belonging to the
class of Carson and Godey.

On the morning of the 5th we left the fort [Footnote: This fort was
attacked and taken by a band of the Utah Indians since we passed it, and
the men of the garrison killed--the women carried off. Mr. Roubideau, a
trader of St. Louis, was absent, and so escaped the fate of the rest.] and
the Uintah river, and continued our road over a broken country, which
afforded, however, a rich addition to our botanical collection; and, after
a march of 25 miles, were again checked by another stream, called Ashley's
fork, where we were detained until noon of the next day.

An immersion of the second satellite gave for this place a longitude of
109 deg. 27' 07", the latitude, by observation, being 40 deg. 28' 07".

In the afternoon of the next day we succeeded in finding a ford; and,
after traveling 15 miles, encamped high up on the mountain-side, where we
found excellent and abundant grass, which we had not hitherto seen. A new
species of _elymus_, which had a purgative and weakening effect upon
the animals, had occurred abundantly since leaving the fort. From this
point, by observation 7,300 feet above the sea, we had a view of Colorado
below, shut up amongst rugged mountains, and which is the recipient of all
the streams we had been crossing since we passed the rim of the Great
Basin at the head of the Spanish fork.

On the 7th we had a pleasant but long day's journey, through beautiful
little valleys and a high mountain country, arriving about evening at the
verge of a steep and rocky ravine, by which we descended to "_Brown's
hole_." This is a place well known to trappers in the country, where
the canons through which the Colorado runs expand into a narrow but pretty
valley, about 16 miles in length. The river was several hundred yards in
breadth, swollen to the top of its banks, near to which it was in many
places 15 to 20 feet deep. We repaired a skin-boat which had been
purchased at the fort, and, after a delay of a day, reached the opposite
banks with much less delay than had been encountered on the Uintah waters.
According to information, the lower end of the valley is the most eastern
part of the Colorado; and the latitude of our encampment, which was
opposite to the remains of an old fort on the left bank of the river, was
40 deg. 46' 27", and, by observation, the elevation above the sea 5,150 feet.
The bearing to the entrance of the canon below was south 20 deg. east. Here
the river enters between lofty precipices of red rock, and the country
below is said to assume a very rugged character, the river and its
affluents passing through canons which forbid all access to the water.
This sheltered little valley was formerly a favorite wintering ground for
the trappers, as it afforded them sufficient pasturage for their animals,
and the surrounding mountains are well stocked with game.

We surprised a flock of mountain sheep as we descended to the river, and
our hunters killed several. The bottoms of a small stream called Vermilion
creek, which enters the left bank of the river a short distance below our
encampment, were covered abundantly with _F. vermicularis_, and other
chenopodiaceous shrubs. From the lower end of Brown's hole we issued by a
remarkably dry canon, fifty or sixty yards wide, and rising, as we
advanced, to the height of six or eight hundred feet. Issuing from this,
and crossing a small green valley, we entered another rent of the same
nature, still narrower than the other, the rocks on either side rising in
nearly vertical precipices perhaps 1,500 feet in height. These places are
mentioned, to give some idea of the country lower down on the Colorado, to
which the trappers usually apply the name of a canon country. The canon
opened upon a pond of water, where we halted to noon. Several flocks of
mountain sheep were here among the rocks, which rung with volleys of
small-arms. In the afternoon we entered upon an ugly, barren, and broken
country, corresponding well with that we had traversed a few degrees
north, on the same side of the Colorado. The Vermilion creek afforded us
brackish water and indifferent grass for the night.

A few scattered cedar-trees were the only improvement of the country on
the following day; and at a little spring of bad water, where we halted at
noon, we had not even the shelter of these from the hot rays of the sun.
At night we encamped in a fine grove of cottonwood-trees, on the banks of
the Elk Head river, the principal fork of the Yampah river, commonly
called by the trappers the Bear river. We made here a very strong fort,
and formed the camp into vigilant guards. The country we were now entering
was constantly infested by war parties of the Sioux and other Indians, and
is among the most dangerous war-grounds in the Rocky mountains; parties of
whites having been repeatedly defeated on this river.

On the 11th we continued up the river, which is a considerable stream,
fifty to a hundred yards in width, handsomely and continuously wooded with
groves of the narrow-leaved cottonwood, _populus angustifolia_; with
these were thickets of willow, and _grain du boeuf_. The
characteristic plant along the river is _F. vermicularis_, which
generally covers the bottoms; mingled with this are saline shrubs and
artemisia. The new variety of grass which we had seen on leaving the
Uintah fort had now disappeared. The country on either side was sandy and
poor, scantily wooded with cedars, but the river bottoms afforded good
pasture. Three antelopes were killed in the afternoon, and we encamped a
little below a branch of the river, called St. Vrain's fork. A few miles
above was the fort at which Frapp's party had been defeated two years
since; and we passed during the day a place where Carson had been fired
upon so close that one of the men had five bullets through his body.
Leaving this river the next morning, we took our way across the hills,
where every hollow had a spring of running water with good grass.

Yesterday and to-day we had before our eyes the high mountains which
divide the Pacific from the Mississippi waters; and entering here among
the lower spurs or foot-hills of the range, the face of the country began
to improve with a magical rapidity. Not only the river bottoms, but the
hills were covered with grass; and among the usual varied flora of the
mountain region, these were occasionally blue with the showy bloom of a
_lupinus_. In the course of the morning we had the first glad view of
buffalo, and welcomed the appearance of two old bulls with as much joy as
if they had been messengers from home; and when we descended to noon on
St. Vrain's fork, an affluent of Green river, the hunters brought in
mountain sheep and the meat of two fat bulls. Fresh entrails in the river
showed us that there were Indians above, and at evening, judging it unsafe
to encamp in the bottoms, which were wooded only with willow thickets, we
ascended to the spurs above, and forted strongly in a small aspen grove,
near to which was a spring of cold water. The hunters killed two fine cows
near the camp. A band of elk broke out of a neighboring grove; antelopes
were running over the hills; and on the opposite river-plains herds of
buffalo were raising clouds of dust. The country here appeared more
variously stocked with game than any part of the Rocky mountains we had
visited; and its abundance is owing to the excellent pasturage, and its
dangerous character as a war-ground.

13th.--There was snow here near our mountain camp, and the morning was
beautiful and cool. Leaving St. Vrain's fork, we took our way directly
towards the summit of the dividing ridge. The bottoms of the streams and
level places were wooded with aspens; and as we neared the summit, we
entered again the piny region. We had a delightful morning's ride, the
ground affording us an excellent bridle-path, and reached the summit
towards mid-day, at an elevation of 8,000 feet. With joy and exultation we
saw ourselves once more on the top of the Rocky mountains, and beheld a
little stream taking its course towards the rising sun. It was an affluent
of the Platte, called Pullam's fork, and we descended to noon upon it. It
is a pretty stream, twenty yards broad, and bears the name of a trapper
who, some years since, was killed here by the _Gros Ventre_ Indians.

Issuing from the pines in the afternoon we saw spread out before us the
valley of the Platte, with the pass of the Medicine Butte beyond, and some
of the Sweet Water mountains; but a smoky haziness in the air entirely
obscured the Wind River chain.

We were now about two degrees south of the South Pass, and our course home
would have been eastwardly; but that would have taken us over ground
already examined, and therefore without the interest that would excite
curiosity. Southwardly there were objects worthy to be explored, to wit:
the approximation of the head-waters of three different rivers--the
Platte, the Arkansas, and the Grand River fork of the Rio Colorado of the
Gulf of California; the passages at the heads of these rivers; and the
three remarkable mountain coves, called Parks, in which they took their
rise. One of these Parks was, of course, on the western side of the
dividing ridge; and a visit to it would once more require us to cross the
summit of the Rocky mountains to the west, and then to recross to the
east, making in all, with the transit we had just accomplished, three
crossings of that mountain in this section of its course. But no matter.
The coves, the heads of the rivers, the approximation of their waters, the
practicability of the mountain passes, and the locality of the three
Parks, were all objects of interest, and, although well known to hunters
and trappers, were unknown to science and to history. We therefore changed
our course, and turned up the valley of the Platte instead of going down
it.

We crossed several small affluents, and again made a fortified camp in a
grove. The country had now became very beautiful--rich in water, grass,
and game; and to these were added the charm of scenery and pleasant
weather.

14th.--Our route this morning lay along the foot of the mountain, over the
long low spurs which sloped gradually down to the river, forming the broad
valley of the Platte. The country is beautifully watered. In almost every
hollow ran a clear, cool, mountain stream; and in the course of the
morning we crossed seventeen, several of them being large creeks, forty to
fifty feet wide, with a swift current, and tolerably deep. These were
variously wooded with groves of aspen and cottonwood, with willow, cherry,
and other shrubby trees. Buffalo, antelope, and elk, were frequent during
the day; and, in their abundance; the latter sometimes reminded us
slightly of the Sacramento valley.

We halted at noon on Potter's fork--a clear and swift stream, forty yards
wide, and in many places deep enough to swim our animals; and in the
evening encamped on a pretty stream, where there were several beaver dams,
and many trees recently cut down by the beaver. We gave to this the name
of Beaver Dam creek, as now they are becoming sufficiently rare to
distinguish by their names the streams on which they are found. In this
mountain they occurred more abundantly than elsewhere in all our journey,
in which their vestiges had been scarcely seen.

The next day we continued our journey up the valley, the country
presenting much the same appearance, except that the grass was more scanty
on the ridges, over which was spread a scrubby growth of sage; but still
the bottoms of the creeks were broad, and afforded good pasture-grounds.
We had an animated chase after a grizzly bear this morning, which we tried
to lasso. Fuentes threw the lasso upon his neck, but it slipped off, and
he escaped into the dense thickets of the creek, into which we did not
like to venture. Our course in the afternoon brought us to the main Platte
river, here a handsome stream, with a uniform breadth of seventy yards,
except where widened by frequent islands. It was apparently deep, with a
moderate current, and wooded with groves of large willow.

The valley narrowed as we ascended, and presently degenerated into a
gorge, through which the river passed as through a gate. We entered it,
and found ourselves in the New Park--a beautiful circular valley of thirty
miles diameter, walled in all round with snowy mountains, rich with water
and with grass, fringed with pine on the mountain sides below the snow
line, and a paradise to all grazing animals. The Indian name for it
signifies "cow lodge," of which our own may be considered a translation;
the enclosure, the grass, the water, and the herds of buffalo roaming over
it, naturally presenting the idea of a park. We halted for the night just
within the gate, and expected, as usual, to see herds of buffalo; but an
Arapahoe village had been before us, and not one was to be seen. Latitude
of the encampment 40 deg. 52' 44". Elevation by the boiling point 7,720 feet.

It is from this elevated cove, and from the gorges of the surrounding
mountains, and some lakes within their bosoms, that the Great Platte river
collects its first waters, and assumes its first form; and certainly no
river could ask a more beautiful origin.

16th.--In the morning we pursued our way through the Park, following a
principal branch of the Platte, and crossing, among many smaller ones, a
bold stream, scarcely fordable, called Lodge Pole fork, and which issues
from a lake in the mountains on the right, ten miles long. In the evening
we encamped on a small stream near the upper end of the Park. Latitude of
the camp 40 deg. 33' 22".

17th.--We continued our way among the waters of the Park over the foot-
hills of the bordering mountains, where we found good pasturage, and
surprised and killed some buffalo. We fell into a broad and excellent
trail, made by buffalo, where a wagon would pass with ease; and, in the
course of the morning we crossed the summit of the Rocky mountains,
through a pass which was one of the most beautiful we had ever seen. The
trail led among the aspens, through open grounds, richly covered with
grass, and carried us over an elevation of about 9,000 feet above the
level of the sea.

The country appeared to great advantage in the delightful summer weather
of the mountains, which we still continued to enjoy. Descending from the
pass, we found ourselves again on the western waters; and halted to noon
on the edge of another mountain valley, called the Old Park, in which is
formed Grand river, one of the principal branches of the Colorado of
California. We were now moving with some caution, as, from the trail, we
found the Arapahoe village had also passed this way; as we were coming out
of their enemy's country, and this was a war-ground, we were desirous to
avoid them. After a long afternoon's march, we halted at night on a small
creek, tributary to a main fork of Grand river, which ran through this
portion of the valley. The appearance of the country in the Old Park is
interesting, though of a different character from the New; instead of
being a comparative plain, it is more or less broken into hills, and
surrounded by the high mountains, timbered on the lower parts with quaking
asp and pines.

18th.--Our scouts, who were as usual ahead, made from a _butte_ this
morning the signal of Indians, and we rode up in time to meet a party of
about 30 Arapahoes. They were men and women going into the hills--the men
for game, the women for roots--and informed us that the village was
encamped a few miles above, on the main fork of Grand river, which passes
through the midst of the valley. I made them the usual presents; but they
appeared disposed to be unfriendly, and galloped back at speed to the
village. Knowing that we had trouble to expect, I descended immediately
into the bottoms of Grand river, which were overflowed in places, the
river being up, and made the best encampment the ground afforded. We had
no time to build a fort, but found an open place among the willows, which
was defended by the river on one side and the overflowed bottoms on the
other. We had scarcely made our few preparations, when about 200 of them
appeared on the verge of the bottom, mounted, painted, and armed for war.
We planted the American flag between us; and a short parley ended in a
truce, with something more than the usual amount of presents. About 20
Sioux were with them--one of them an old chief, who had always been
friendly to the whites. He informed me that, before coming down, a council
had been held at the village, in which the greater part had declared for
attacking us--we had come from their enemies, to whom we had doubtless
been carrying assistance in arms and ammunition; but his own party, with
some few of the Arapahoes who had seen us the previous year in the plains,
opposed it. It will be remembered that it is customary for this people to
attack the trading parties which they meet in this region, considering all
whom they meet on the western side of the mountains to be their enemies.
They deceived me into the belief that I should find a ford at their
village, and I could not avoid accompanying them; but put several sloughs
between us and their village, and forted strongly on the banks of the
river, which was everywhere rapid and deep, and over a hundred yards in
breadth. The camp was generally crowded with Indians; and though the
baggage was carefully watched and covered, a number of things were stolen.

The next morning we descended the river for about eight miles, and halted
a short distance above a canon, through which Grand river issues from the
Park. Here it was smooth and deep, 150 yards in breadth, and its elevation
at this point 6,700 feet. A frame for the boat being very soon made, our
baggage was ferried across; the horses, in the mean time, swimming over. A
southern fork of Grand river here makes its junction, nearly opposite to
the branch by which we had entered the valley, and up this we continued
for about eight miles in the afternoon and encamped in a bottom on the
left bank, which afforded good grass. At our encampment it was 70 to 90
yards in breadth, sometimes widened by islands, and separated into several
channels, with a very swift current and bed of rolled rocks.

On the 20th we traveled up the left bank, with the prospect of a bad road,
the trail here taking the opposite side; but the stream was up, and
nowhere fordable. A piny ridge of mountains, with bare rocky peaks, was on
our right all the day, and a snowy mountain appeared ahead. We crossed
many foaming torrents with rocky beds, rushing down the river; and in the
evening made a strong fort in an aspen grove. The valley had already
become very narrow, shut up more closely in densely timbered mountains,
the pines sweeping down the verge of the bottoms. The _coq de prairie
(tetrao europhasianus)_ was occasionally seen among the sage.

We saw to-day the returning trail of an Arapahoe party which had been sent
from the village to look for Utahs in the Bayou Salade, (South Park;) and
it being probable that they would visit our camp with the desire to return
on horseback, we were more than usually on the alert.

Here the river diminished to 35 yards, and, notwithstanding the number of
affluents we had crossed, was still a large stream, dashing swiftly by,
with a great continuous fall, and not yet fordable. We had a delightful
ride along a good trail among the fragrant pines; and the appearance of
buffalo in great numbers indicated that there were Indians in the Bayou
Salade, (South Park,) by whom they were driven out. We halted to noon
under the shade of the pines, and the weather was most delightful. The
country was literally alive with buffalo; and the continued echo of the
hunters' rifles on the other side of the river for a moment made me
uneasy, thinking perhaps they were engaged with Indians; but in a short
time they came into camp with the meat of seven fat cows.

During the earlier part of the day's ride, the river had been merely a
narrow ravine between high piny mountains, backed on both sides, but
particularly on the west, by a line of snowy ridges; but, after several
hours' ride, the stream opened out into a valley with pleasant bottoms. In
the afternoon the river forked into three apparently equal streams; broad
buffalo trails leading up the left hand, and the middle branch, indicating
good passes over the mountains; but up the right-hand branch, (which, in
the object of descending from the mountain by the main head of the
Arkansas, I was most desirous to follow,) there was no sign of a buffalo
trace. Apprehending from this reason, and the character of the mountains,
which are known to be extremely rugged, that the right-hand branch led to
no pass, I proceeded up the middle branch, which formed a flat valley-
bottom between timbered ridges on the left and snowy mountains on the
right, terminating in large _buttes_ of naked rock. The trail was
good, and the country interesting; and at nightfall we encamped in an open
place among the pines, where we built a strong fort. The mountains exhibit
their usual varied growth of flowers, and at this place I noticed, among
others, _thermopsis montana_, whose bright yellow color makes it a
showy plant. This has been a characteristic in many parts of the country
since reaching the Uintah waters. With fields of iris were _aquilegia
coerulea_, violets, esparcette, and strawberries.

At dark we perceived a fire in the edge of the pines, on the opposite side
of the valley. We had evidently not been discovered, and, at the report of
a gun, and the blaze of fresh fuel which was heaped on our fires, those of
the strangers were instantly extinguished. In the morning, they were found
to be a party of six trappers, who had ventured out among the mountains
after beaver. They informed us that two of the number with which they had
started had been already killed by the Indians--one of them but a few days
since--by the Arapahoes we had lately seen, who had found him alone at a
camp on this river, and carried off his traps and animals. As they were
desirous to join us, the hunters returned with them to the encampment, and
we continued up the valley, in which the stream rapidly diminished,
breaking into small tributaries--every hollow affording water. At our noon
halt, the hunters joined us with the trappers. While preparing to start
from their encampment, they found themselves suddenly surrounded by a
party of Arapahoes, who informed them that their scouts had discovered a
large Utah village in the Bayou Salade, (South Park,) and that a large
war-party, consisting of almost every man in the village, except those who
were too old to go to war, were going over to attack them. The main body
had ascended the left fork of the river, which afforded a better pass than
the branch we were on, and this party had followed our trail, in order
that we might add our force to theirs. Carson informed them that we were
too far ahead to turn back, but would join them in the bayou; and the
Indians went off apparently satisfied. By the temperature of boiling
water, our elevation here was 10,430 feet, and still the pine forest
continued, and grass was good.

In the afternoon we continued our road occasionally through open pines,
with a very gradual ascent. We surprised a herd of buffalo, enjoying the
shade at a small lake among the pines, and they made the dry branches
crack, as they broke through the woods. In a ride of about three-quarters
of an hour, and having ascended perhaps 800 feet, we reached the _summit
of the dividing ridge_, which would thus have an estimated height of
11,200 feet. Here the river spreads itself into small branches and
springs, heading nearly in the summit of the ridge, which is very narrow.
Immediately below us was a green valley, through which ran a stream; and a
short distance opposite rose snowy mountains, whose summits were formed
into peaks of naked rock. We soon afterwards satisfied ourselves that
immediately beyond these mountains was the main branch of the Arkansas
river--most probably heading directly with the little stream below us,
which gathered its waters in the snowy mountains near by. Descriptions of
the rugged character of the mountains around the head of the Arkansas,
which their appearance amply justified, deterred me from making any
attempt to reach it, which would have involved a greater length of time
than now remained at my disposal.

In about a quarter of an hour, we descended from the summit of the Pass
into the creek below, our road having been very much controlled and
interrupted by the pines and springs on the mountain-side. Turning up the
stream, we encamped on a bottom of good grass near its head, which gathers
its waters in the dividing crest of the Rocky mountains, and, according to
the best information we could obtain, separated only by the rocky wall of
the ridge from the head of the main Arkansas river. By the observations of
the evening, the latitude of our encampment was 39 deg. 20' 24", and south of
which; therefore, is the head of the Arkansas river. The stream on which
we had encamped is the head of either the _Fontaine-qui-bouit_, a
branch of the Arkansas, or the remotest head of the south fork of the
Platte, as which you will find it laid down on the map. But descending it
only through a portion of its course, we have not been able to settle this
point satisfactorily. In the evening a band of buffalo furnished a little
excitement, by charging through the camp.

On the following day we descended the stream by an excellent buffalo-
trail, along the open grassy bottom of the river. On our right, the bayou
was bordered by a mountainous range, crested with rocky and naked peaks;
and below, it had a beautiful park-like character of pretty level
prairies, interspersed among low spurs, wooded openly with pine and
quaking asp, contrasting well with the denser pines which swept around on
the mountain sides. Descending always the valley of the stream, towards
noon we descried a mounted party descending the point of a spur, and,
judging them to be Arapahoes--who, defeated or victorious, were equally
dangerous to us, and with whom a fight would be inevitable--we hurried to
post ourselves as strongly as possible on some willow islands in the
river. We had scarcely halted when they arrived, proving to be a party of
Utah women, who told us that on the other side of  the ridge their village
was fighting with the Arapahoes. As soon as they had given us this
information, they filled the air with cries and lamentations, which made
us understand that some of their chiefs had been killed.

Extending along the river, directly ahead of us, was a low piny ridge,
leaving between it and the stream a small open bottom, on which the Utahs
had very injudiciously placed their village, which, according to the
women, numbered about 300 warriors. Advancing in the cover of the pines,
the Arapahoes, about daylight, charged into the village, driving off a
great number of their horses, and killing four men; among them, the
principal chief of the village. They drove the horses perhaps a mile
beyond the village, to the end of a hollow, where they had previously
forted, at the edge of the pines. Here the Utahs had instantly attacked
them in turn, and, according to the report of the women, were getting
rather the best of the day. The women pressed us eagerly to join with
their people, and would immediately have provided us with the best horses
at the village; but it was not for us to interfere in such a conflict.
Neither party were our friends, or under our protection; and each was
ready to prey upon us that could. But we could not help feeling an unusual
excitement at being within a few hundred yards of a fight, in which 500
men were closely engaged, and hearing the sharp cracks of their rifles. We
were in a bad position, and subject to be attacked in it. Either party
which we might meet, victorious or defeated, was certain to fall upon us;
and, gearing up immediately, we kept close along the pines of the ridge,
having it between us and the village, and keeping the scouts on the
summit, to give us notice of the approach of Indians. As we passed by the
village, which was immediately below us, horsemen were galloping to and
fro, and groups of people were gathered around those who were wounded and
dead, and who were being brought in from the field. We continued to press
on, and, crossing another fork, which came in from the right, after having
made fifteen miles from the village, fortified ourselves strongly in the
pines, a short distance from the river.

During the afternoon, Pike's Peak had been plainly in view before us, and,
from our encampment, bore N. 87 deg. E. by compass. This was a familiar
object, and it had for us the face of an old friend. At its foot were the
springs, where we had spent a pleasant day in coming out. Near it were the
habitations of civilized men; and it overlooked the broad smooth plains,
which promised us an easy journey to our home.

The next day we left the river, which continued its course towards Pike's
Peak; and taking a southeasterly direction, in about ten miles we crossed
a gentle ridge, and, issuing from the South Park, found ourselves involved
among the broken spurs of the mountains which border the great prairie
plains. Although broken and extremely rugged, the country was very
interesting, being well watered by numerous affluents to the Arkansas
river, and covered with grass and a variety of trees. The streams, which,
in the upper part of their course, ran through grassy and open hollows,
after a few miles all descended into deep and impracticable canons,
through which they found their way to the Arkansas valley. Here the
buffalo trails we had followed were dispersed among the hills, or crossed
over into the more open valleys of other streams.

During the day our road was fatiguing and difficult, reminding us much, by
its steep and rocky character, of our traveling the year before among the
Wind River mountains; but always at night we found some grassy bottom,
which afforded us a pleasant camp. In the deep seclusion of these little
streams, we found always an abundant pasturage, and a wild luxuriance of
plants and trees. Aspens and pines were the prevailing timber: on the
creeks oak was frequent; but the narrow-leaved cottonwood, (_populus
angustifolia_,) of unusually large size, and seven or eight feet in
circumference, was the principal tree. With these were mingled a variety
of shrubby trees, which aided to make the ravines almost impenetrable.

After several days' laborious traveling, we succeeded in extricating
ourselves from the mountains, and on the morning of the 28th encamped
immediately at their foot, on a handsome tributary to the Arkansas river.
In the afternoon we descended the stream, winding our way along the
bottoms, which were densely wooded with oak, and in the evening encamped
near the main river. Continuing the next day our road along the Arkansas,
and meeting on the way a war-party of Arapahoe Indians, (who had recently
been committing some outrages at Bent's fort, killing stock and driving
off horses,) we arrived before sunset at the Pueblo, near the mouth of the
_Fontaine-qui-bouit_ river, where we had the pleasure to find a
number of our old acquaintances. The little settlement appeared in a
thriving condition; and in the interval of our absence another had been
established on the river, some thirty miles above.

On the 30th of June our cavalcade moved rapidly down the Arkansas, along
the broad road which follows the river.



JULY.


On the 1st of July we arrived at Bent's fort, about 70 miles below the
mouth of the _Fontaine-qui-bouit_. As we emerged into view from the
groves on the river, we were saluted with a display of the national flag,
and repeated discharges from the guns of the fort, where we were received
by Mr. George Bent with a cordial welcome and a friendly hospitality, in
the enjoyment of which we spent several very agreeable days. We were now
in the region where our mountaineers were accustomed to live; and all the
dangers and difficulties of the road being considered past, four of them,
including Carson and Walker, remained at the fort.

On the 5th we resumed our journey down the Arkansas, traveling along a
broad wagon-road, and encamped about 20 miles below the fort. On the way
we met a very large village of Sioux and Cheyenne Indians, who, with the
Arapahoes were returning from the crossing of the Arkansas, where they had
been to meet the Kioway and Camanche Indians. A few days previous they had
massacred a party of fifteen Delawares, whom they had discovered in a fort
on the Smoky Hill river, losing in the affair several of their own people.
They were desirous that we should bear a pacific message to the Delawares
on the frontier, from whom they expected retaliation; and we passed
through them without any difficulty or delay. Dispersed over the plain in
scattered bodies of horsemen, and family groups of women and children,
with dog-trains carrying baggage, and long lines of pack-horses, their
appearance was picturesque and imposing.

Agreeably to your instructions, which required me to complete, as far as
practicable, our examinations of the Kansas, I left at this encampment the
Arkansas river, taking a northeasterly direction across the elevated
dividing grounds which separate that river from the waters of the Platte.
On the 7th we crossed a large stream, about forty yards wide, and one or
two feet deep, flowing with a lively current on a sandy bed. The
discolored and muddy appearance of the water indicated that it proceeded
from recent rains; and we are inclined to consider this a branch of the
Smoky Hill river, although, possibly, it may be the Pawnee fork of the
Arkansas. Beyond this stream we traveled over high and level prairies,
halting at small ponds and holes of water, and using for our fires the
_bois de vache_, the country being without timber. On the evening of
the 8th we encamped in a cottonwood grove on the banks of a sandy stream-
bed, where there was water in holes sufficient for the camp. Here several
hollows, or dry creeks with sandy beds, met together, forming the head of
a stream which afterwards proved to be the Smoky Hill fork of the Kansas
river.

The next morning, as we were leaving our encampment, a number of Arapahoe
Indians were discovered. They belonged to a war-party which had scattered
over the prairie in returning from an expedition against the Pawnees.

As we traveled down the valley, water gathered rapidly in the sandy bed
from many little tributaries; and at evening it had become a handsome
stream, fifty to eighty feet in width, with a lively current in small
channels, the water being principally dispersed among quicksands.

Gradually enlarging, in a few days' march it became a river eighty yards
in breadth, wooded with occasional groves of cottonwood. Our road was
generally over level uplands bordering the river, which were closely
covered with a sward of buffalo-grass.

On the 10th we entered again the buffalo range, where we had found these
animals so abundant on our outward journey, and halted for a day among
numerous herds, in order to make a provision of meat sufficient to carry
us to the frontier.

A few days afterwards, we encamped, in a pleasant evening, on a high river
prairie, the stream being less than a hundred yards broad. During the
night we had a succession of thunder-storms, with heavy and continuous
rain, and towards morning the water suddenly burst over the bank, flooding
the bottoms and becoming a large river, five or six hundred yards in
breadth. The darkness of the night and incessant rain had concealed from
the guard the rise of the water; and the river broke into the camp so
suddenly, that the baggage was instantly covered, and all our perishable
collections almost entirely ruined, and the hard labor of many months
destroyed in a moment.

On the 17th we discovered a large village of Indians encamped at the mouth
of a handsomely wooded stream on the right bank of the river. Readily
inferring, from the nature of the encampment, that they were Pawnee
Indians, and confidently expecting good treatment from a people who
receive regularly an annuity from the government, we proceeded directly to
the village, where we found assembled nearly all the Pawnee tribe, who
were now returning from the crossing of the Arkansas, where they had met
the Kioway and Camanche Indians. We were received by them with the
unfriendly rudeness and characteristic insolence which they never fail to
display whenever they find an occasion for doing so with impunity. The
little that remained of our goods was distributed among them, but proved
entirely insufficient to satisfy their greedy rapacity; and, after some
delay, and considerable difficulty, we succeeded in extricating ourselves
from the village, and encamped on the river about 15 miles below.

[Footnote: In a recent report to the department, from Major Wharton, who
visited the Pawnee villages with a military force some months afterwards,
it is stated that the Indians had intended to attack our party during the
night we remained at this encampment, but were prevented by the
interposition of the Pawnee Loups.]

The country through which we had been traveling since leaving the Arkansas
river, for a distance of 260 miles, presented to the eye only a succession
of far-stretching green prairies, covered with the unbroken verdure of the
buffalo-grass, and sparingly wooded along the streams with straggling
trees and occasional groves of cottonwood; but here the country began
perceptibly to change its character, becoming a more fertile, wooded, and
beautiful region, covered with a profusion of grasses, and watered with
innumerable little streams, which were wooded with oak, large elms, and
the usual varieties of timber common to the lower course of the Kansas
river.

As we advanced, the country steadily improved, gradually assimilating
itself in appearance to the northwestern part of the state of Missouri.
The beautiful sward of the buffalo-grass, which is regarded as the best
and most nutritious found on the prairies, appeared now only in patches,
being replaced by a longer and coarser grass, which covered the face of
the country luxuriantly. The difference in the character of the grasses
became suddenly evident in the weakened condition of our animals, which
began sensibly to fail as soon as we quitted the buffalo-grass.

The river preserved a uniform breadth of eighty or a hundred yards, with
broad bottoms continuously timbered with large cottonwood-trees, among
which were interspersed a few other varieties.

While engaged in crossing one of the numerous creeks which frequently
impeded and checked our way, sometimes obliging us to ascend them for
several miles, one of the people (Alexis Ayot) was shot through the leg by
the accidental discharge of a rifle--a mortifying and painful mischance,
to be crippled for life by an accident, after having nearly accomplished
in safety a long and eventful journey. He was a young man of remarkably
good and cheerful temper, and had been among the useful and efficient men
of the party.

After having traveled directly along its banks for 290 miles, we left the
river, where it bore suddenly off in a northwesterly direction, towards
its junction with the Republican fork of the Kansas, distant about 60
miles; and, continuing our easterly course, in about 20 miles we entered
the wagon-road from Santa Fe to Independence, and on the last day of July
encamped again at the little town of Kansas, on the banks of the Missouri
river.

During our protracted absence of 14 months, in the course of which we had
necessarily been exposed to great varieties of weather and of climate, not
one case of sickness had ever occurred among us.

Here ended our land journey; and the day following our arrival, we found
ourselves on board a steamboat rapidly gliding down the broad Missouri.
Our travel-worn animals had not been sold and dispersed over the country
to renewed labor, but were placed at good pasturage on the frontier, and
are now ready to do their part in the coming expedition.

On the 6th of August we arrived at St. Louis, where the party was finally
disbanded, a great number of the men having their homes in the
neighborhood.

Andreas Fuentes also remained here, having readily found employment for
the winter, and is one of the men engaged to accompany me the present
year.

Pablo Hernandez remains in the family of Senator Benton, where he is well
taken care of, and conciliates good-will by his docility, intelligence,
and amiability. General Almonte, the Mexican minister at Washington, to
whom he was of course made known, kindly offered to take charge of him,
and to carry him back to Mexico; but the boy preferred to remain where he
was until he got an education, for which he shows equal ardor and
aptitude.

Our Chinook Indian had his wish to see the whites fully gratified. He
accompanied me to Washington, and, after remaining several months at the
Columbia College, was sent by the Indian department to Philadelphia,
where, among other things, he learned to read and write well, and speak
the English language with some fluency. He will accompany me in a few days
to the frontier of Missouri, where he will be sent with some one of the
emigrant companies to the village at the Dalles of the Columbia.

Very respectfully, your obedient servant, J. C. FREMONT, _Bt. Capt.
Topl. Engineers_.



*       *       *       *       *


GOLD REGIONS OF CALIFORNIA.


The "placers" or Gold Mines of California, are located in the valley of
the Sacramento, in the northern part of that new territory. They are all
on the public lands, with the exception of the portion belonging to
Messrs. Forbes and Sutter. The region which they embrace and which lies,
according to authentic reports, on both sides of the Sierra Nevada, must
be "larger than the State of New York." The mines, it is estimated, are
worth a thousand millions of dollars. The most reliable information in
regard to them may be found in the official reports communicated to the
authorities at Washington, by some of the American officers who have
visited the region. The following document is of this nature. The author
of it, Col. Mason, the military commander in California, speaks, as will
be seen, from observation, and the fullest confidence may be placed in his
account:--




HEADQUARTERS 10TH MILITARY DEPOT, Monterey, California, Aug. 17, 1848.

SIR:--I have the honor to inform you that, accompanied by Lieut. W. T.
Sherman, 3d artillery, A. A. A. General, I started on the 12th of June
last to make a tour through the northern part of California. My principal
purpose, however, was to visit the newly-discovered gold "placer," in the
Valley of the Sacramento. I had proceeded about forty miles, when I was
overtaken by an express, bringing me intelligence of the arrival at
Monterey of the U. S. ship Southampton, with important letters from Com.
Shubrick and Lieut. Col. Barton. I returned at once to Monterey, and
dispatched what business was most important, and on the 17th resumed my
journey. We reached San Francisco on the 20th, and found that all, or
nearly all, its male inhabitants had gone to the mines. The town, which a
few months before was so busy and thriving, was then almost deserted.

On the evening of the 25th, the horses of the escort were crossed to
Sousoleto in a launch, and on the following day we resumed the journey by
way of Bodega and Sonoma to Sutter's fort, where we arrived on the morning
of the 2d of July. Along the whole route mills were lying idle, fields of
wheat were open to cattle and horses, houses vacant, and farms going to
waste. At Sutter's there was more life and business. Launches were
discharging their cargoes at the river, and carts were hauling goods to
the fort, where already were established several stores, a hotel, &c.
Captain Sutter had only two mechanics in his employ, (a wagon-maker and a
blacksmith,) whom he was then paying ten dollars a day. Merchants pay him
a monthly rent of $100 per room; and while I was there, a two-story house
in the fort was rented as a hotel for $500 a month.

At the urgent solicitation of many gentlemen, I delayed there to
participate in the first public celebration of our national anniversary at
that fort, but on the 5th resumed the journey and proceeded twenty-five
miles up the American fork to a point on it now known as the Lower Mines,
or Mormon Diggings: The hill-sides were thickly strewn with canvas tents
and bush arbors; a store was erected, and several boarding shanties in
operation. The day was intensely hot, yet about two hundred men were at
work in the full glare of the sun, washing for gold--some with tin pans,
some with close-woven Indian baskets, but the greater part had a rude
machine, known as the cradle. This is on rockers, six or eight feet long,
open at the foot, and at its head has a coarse grate, or sieve; the bottom
is rounded, with small cleets nailed across. Four men are required to work
this machine: one digs the ground in the bank close by the stream; another
carries it to the cradle and empties it on the grate; a third gives a
violent rocking motion to the machine; while a fourth dashes on water from
the stream itself.

The sieve keeps the coarse stones from entering the cradle, the current of
water washes off the earthy matter, and the gravel is gradually carried
out at the foot of the machine, leaving the gold mixed with a heavy fine
black sand above the first cleets. The sand and gold mixed together are
then drawn off through auger holes into a pan below, are dried in the sun,
and afterwards separated by blowing off the sand. A party of four men thus
employed at the lower mines averaged $100 a day. The Indians, and those
who have nothing but pans or willow baskets, gradually wash out the earth
and separate the gravel by hand, leaving nothing but the gold mixed with
sand, which is separated in the manner before described. The gold in the
lower mines is in fine bright scales, of which I send several specimens.

As we ascended the north branch of the American fork, the country became
more broken and mountainous, and at the saw-mill, 25 miles above the lower
washings, or 50 miles from Sutter's, the hills rise to about a thousand
feet above the level of the Sacramento plain. Here a species of pine
occurs which led to the discovery of the gold. Capt Sutter, feeling the
great want of lumber, contracted in September last with a Mr. Marshall to
build a saw-mill at that place. It was erected in the course of the past
winter and spring--a dam and race constructed; but when the water was let
on the wheel, the tail-race was found to be too narrow to permit the water
to escape with sufficient rapidity. Mr. Marshall, to save labor, let the
water directly into the race with a strong current, so as to wash it wider
and deeper. He effected his purpose, and a large bed of mud and gravel was
carried to the foot of the race.

One day Mr. Marshall, as he was walking down the race to this deposit of
mud, observed some glittering particles at its upper edge; he gathered a
few, examined them, and became satisfied of their value. He then went to
the fort, told Capt. Sutter of his discovery, and they agreed to keep it
secret until a certain grist-mill of Sutter's was finished. It, however,
got out, and spread like magic. Remarkable success attended the labors of
the first explorers, and in a few weeks hundreds of men were drawn
thither. At the time of my visit, but little over three months after the
first discovery, it was estimated that upwards of four thousand people
were employed. At the mill there is a fine deposit or bank of gravel,
which the people respect as the property of Captain Sutter, although he
pretends to no right to it, and would be perfectly satisfied with the
simple promise of a pre-emption, on account of the mill which he has
built there at considerable cost. Mr. Marshall was living near the mill,
and informed me that many persons were employed above and below him; that
they used the same machines at the lower washings, and that their success
was about the same--ranging from one to three ounces of gold per man
daily. This gold, too, is in scales a little coarser than those of the
lower mines.

From the mill Mr. Marshall guided me up the mountain on the opposite or
north bank of the south fork, where, in the bed of small streams or
ravines, now dry, a great deal of coarse gold has been found. I there saw
several parties at work, all of whom were doing very well; a great many
specimens were shown me, some as heavy as four or five ounces in weight,
and I send three pieces labelled No. 5, presented by a Mr. Spence. You
will perceive that some of the specimens accompanying this, hold
mechanically pieces of quartz; that the surface is rough and evidently
moulded in the crevice of a rock. This gold cannot have been carried far
by water, but must have remained near where it was first deposited from
the rock that once bound it. I inquired of many people if they had
encountered the metal in its matrix, but in every instance they said they
had not, but that the gold was invariably mixed with washed gravel or
lodged in the crevices of other rocks. All bore testimony that they had
found gold in greater or less quantities in the numerous small gullies or
ravines that occur in that mountainous region.

On the 7th of July I left the mill, and crossed to a stream emptying into
the American fork, three or four miles below the saw mill. I struck this
stream (now known as Weber's creek) at the washings of Sunol & Co. They
had about thirty Indians employed, whom they payed in merchandise. They
were getting gold of a character similar to that found on the main fork,
and doubtless in sufficient quantities to satisfy them. I send you a small
specimen, presented by this company, of their gold. From this point we
proceeded up the stream about eight miles, where we found a great many
people and Indians--some engaged in the bed of the stream, and others in
the small side valleys that put into it. These latter are exceedingly
rich, and two ounces were considered an ordinary yield for a day's work. A
small gutter, not more than a hundred yards long by four feet wide and two
or three feet deep, was pointed out to me as the one where two men--
William Daly and Parry McCoon--had, a short time before, obtained 17,000
dollars worth of gold. Capt. Weber informed me that he knew that these two
men had employed four white men and about a hundred Indians, and that at
the end of one week's work, they paid off their party, and had left
$10,000 worth of this gold. Another small ravine was shown me, from which
had been taken upwards of $12,000 worth of gold. Hundreds of similar
ravines to all appearances are as yet untouched. I could not have credited
these reports had I not seen, in the abundance of the precious metal,
evidence of their truth.

Mr. Neligh, an agent of Commodore Stockton, had been at work about three
weeks in the neighborhood, and showed me in bags and bottles over $2,000
worth of gold; and Mr. Lyman, a gentleman of education and worthy of every
credit, said he had been engaged with four others, with a machine, on the
American fork, just below Sutter's mill; that they worked eight days, and
that his share was at the rate of $50 a day; but hearing that others were
doing better at Weber's place they had removed there, and were then on the
point of resuming operations. I might tell of hundreds of similar
instances; but to illustrate how plentiful the gold was in the pockets of
common laborers, I will mention a simple occurrence which took place in my
presence when I was at Weber's store. This store was nothing but an arbor
of bushes, under which he had exposed for sale goods and groceries suited
to his customers. A man came in, picked up a box of Seidlitz powders and
asked the price. Captain Weber told him it was not for sale. The man
offered an ounce of gold, but Capt. Weber told it only cost fifty cents,
and he did not wish to sell it. The man then offered an ounce and a half,
when Capt. Weber _had_ to take it. The prices of all things are high,
and yet Indians, who before hardly knew what a breech cloth was, can now
afford to buy the most gaudy dresses.

The country on either side of Weber's creek is much broken up by hills,
and is intersected in every direction by small streams or ravines, which
contain more or less gold. Those that have been worked are barely
scratched; and although thousands of ounces have been carried away, I do
not consider that a serious impression has been made upon the whole. Every
day was developing new and richer deposits; and the only impression seemed
to be, that the metal would be found in such abundance as seriously to
depreciate in value.

On the 8th of July I returned to the lower mines, and on the following day
to Sutter's, where, on the 19th. I was making preparations for a visit to
the Feather, Yubah, and Bear rivers, when I received a letter from
Commander A. R. Long, United States Navy, who had just arrived at San
Francisco from Mazatlan, with a crew for the sloop-of-war Warren, with
orders to take that vessel to the squadron at La Paz. Capt. Long wrote to
me that the Mexican Congress had adjourned without ratifying the treaty of
peace, that he had letters from Commodore Jones, and that his orders were
to sail with the Warren on or before the 20th of July. In consequence of
this I determined to return to Monterey, and accordingly arrived here on
the 17th of July. Before leaving Sutter's I satisfied myself that gold
existed in the bed of the Feather river, in the Yubah and Bear, and in
many of the smaller streams that lie between the latter and the American
fork; also that it had been found in the Cosummes to the south of the
American fork. In each of these streams, the gold is found in small
scales, whereas in the intervening mountains it occurs in coarser lumps.

Mr. Sinclair, whose rancho is three miles above Sutter's on the north side
of the American, employs about fifty Indians on the north fork, not far
from its junction with the main stream. He had been engaged about five
weeks when I saw him, and up to that time his Indians had used simply
closely woven willow baskets. His nett proceeds (which I saw) were about
$16,000 worth of gold. He showed me the proceeds of his last week's work--
fourteen pounds avoirdupois of clean-washed gold.

The principal store at Sutter's Fort, that of Brannan & Co., had received
in payment for goods $36,000 (worth of this gold) from the 1st of May to
the 10th of July. Other merchants had also made extensive sales. Large
quantities of goods were daily sent forward to the mines, as the Indians,
heretofore so poor and degraded, have suddenly become consumers of the
luxuries of life. I before mentioned that the greater part of the farmers
and rancheros had abandoned their fields to go to the mines. This is not
the case with Capt. Sutter, who was carefully gathering his wheat,
estimated at 40,000 bushels. Flour is already worth at Sutter's $36 a
barrel, and soon will be fifty. Unless large quantities of breadstuffs
reach the country, much suffering will occur; but as each man is now able
to pay a large price, it is believed the merchants will bring from Chili
and Oregon a plentiful supply for the coming winter.

The most moderate estimate I could obtain from men acquainted with the
subject, was, that upwards of four thousand men were working in the gold
district, of whom more than one-half were Indians; and that from $30,000
to $50,000 worth of gold, if not more, was daily obtained. The entire gold
district, with very few exceptions of grants made some years ago by the
Mexican authorities, is on land belonging to the United States. It was a
matter of serious reflection with me, how I could secure to the Government
certain rents and fees for the privilege of procuring this gold; but upon
considering the large extent of country, the character of the people
engaged, and the small scattered force at my command, I resolved not to
interfere but to permit all to work freely, unless broils and crimes
should call for interferance. I was surprised to learn that crime of any
kind was very unfrequent, and that no thefts or robberies had been
committed in the gold district.

All live in tents, in bush arbors, or in the open air; and men have
frequently about their persons thousands of dollars worth of this gold,
and it was to me a matter of surprise that so peaceful and quiet state of
things should continue to exist. Conflicting claims to particular spots of
ground may cause collisions, but they will be rare, as the extent of
country is so great, and the gold so abundant, that for the present there
is room enough for all. Still the Government is entitled to rents for this
land, and immediate steps should be devised to collect them, for the
longer it is delayed the more difficult it will become. One plan I would
suggest is, to send out from the United States surveyors with high
salaries, bound to serve specified periods.

A superintendent to be appointed at Sutter's Fort, with power to grant
licenses to work a spot of ground--say 100 yards square--for one year, at
a rent of from 100 to 1,000 dollars, at his discretion; the surveyors to
measure the ground, and place the rentor in possession.

A better plan, however, will be to have the district surveyed and sold at
public auction to the highest bidder, in small parcels--say from 20 to 40
acres. In either case, there will be many intruders, whom for years it
will be almost impossible to exclude.

The discovery of these vast deposits of gold has entirely changed the
character of Upper California. Its people, before engaged in cultivating
their small patches of ground, and guarding their herds of cattle and,
horses, have all gone to the mines, or are on their way thither. Laborers
of every trade have left their work benches, and tradesmen their shops.
Sailors desert their ships as fast as they arrive on the coast, and
several vessels have gone to sea with hardly enough hands to spread a
sail. Two or three are now at anchor in San Francisco with no crew on
board. Many desertions, too, have taken place from the garrisons within
the influence of these mines; twenty-six soldiers have deserted from the
post of Sonoma, twenty-four from that of San Francisco, and twenty-four
from Monterey. For a few days the evil appeared so threatening, that great
danger existed that the garrisons would leave in a body; and I refer you
to my orders of the 25th of July, to show the steps adopted to met this
contingency. I shall spare no exertions to apprehend and punish deserters,
but I believe no time in the history of our country has presented such
temptations to desert as now exist in California.

The danger of apprehension is small, and the prospect of high wages
certain; pay and bounties are trifles, as laboring men at the mines can
now earn in _one day_ more than double a soldier's pay and allowances
for a month, and even the pay of a lieutenant or captain cannot hire a
servant. A carpenter or mechanic would not listen to an offer of less than
fifteen or twenty dollars a day. Could any combination of affairs try a
man's fidelity more than this? I really think some extraordinary mark of
favor should be given to those soldiers who remain faithful to their flag
throughout this tempting crisis. No officer can now live in California on
his pay, money has so little value; the prices of necessary articles of
clothing and subsistence are so exorbitant and labor so high, that to hire
a cook or servant has become an impossibility, save to those who are
earning from thirty to fifty dollars a day. This state of things cannot
last for ever. Yet from the geographical position of California, and the
new character it has assumed as a mining country, prices of labor will
always be high, and will hold out temptations to desert. I therefore have
to report, if the Government wish to prevent desertions here on the part
of men, and to secure zeal on the part of officers, their pay must be
increased very materially. Soldiers, both of the volunteers and regular
service, discharged in this country, should be permitted at once to locate
their land warrants in the gold district.

Many private letters have gone to the United States giving accounts of the
vast quantity of gold recently discovered, and it may be a matter of
surprise why I have made no report on this subject at an earlier date. The
reason is, that I could not bring myself to believe the reports that I
heard of the wealth of the gold district until I visited it myself. I have
no hesitation now in saying that there is more gold in the country drained
by the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers than will pay the cost of the
present war with Mexico a hundred times over. No capital is required to
obtain this gold, as the laboring man wants nothing but his pick and
shovel and tin pan, with which to dig and wash the gravel; and many
frequently pick gold out of the crevices of rocks with their butcher
knives in pieces from one to six ounces.

Mr. Dye, a gentleman residing in Monterey, and worthy of every credit, has
just returned from Feather river. He tells me that the company to which he
belonged worked seven weeks and two days, with an average of fifty Indians
(washers) and that their gross product was 273 pounds of gold. His share
(one seventh,) after paying all expenses, is about thirty-seven pounds,
which he brought with him and exhibited in Monterey. I see no laboring man
from the mines who does not show his two, three, or four pounds of gold. A
soldier of the artillery company returned here a few days ago from the
mines, having been absent on furlough twenty days. He made by trading and
working during that time $1500. During these twenty days he was traveling
ten or eleven days, leaving but a week, in which he made a sum of money
greater than he receives in pay, clothes, and rations during a whole
enlistment of five years. These statements appear incredible, but they are
true.

Gold is also believed to exist on the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada;
and when at the mines, I was informed by an intelligent Mormon, that it
had been found near the Great Salt lake by some of his fraternity. Nearly
all the Mormons are leaving California to go to the Salt lake, and this
they surely would not do unless they were sure of finding gold there in
the same abundance as they now do on the Sacramento.

The gold "placer" near the mission of San Fernando has long been known,
but has been little wrought for want of water. This is a spur which puts
off from the Sierra Nevada, (see Fremont's map,) the same in which the
present mines occur. There is, therefore, every reason to believe, that in
the intervening spaces of 500 miles, (entirely unexplored,) there must be
many hidden and rich deposits. The "placer" gold is now substituted as the
currency of this country; in trade it passes freely at $16 per ounce; as
an article of commerce its value is not yet fixed. The only purchase I
made was of the specimen No. 7, which I got of Mr. Neligh at $12 the
ounce. That is about the present cash value in the country, although it
has been sold for less. The great demand for goods and provisions made by
sudden development of wealth, has increased the amount of commerce at San
Francisco very much, and it will continue to increase.

I would recommend that a mint be established at some eligible point of the
Bay of San Francisco; and that machinery, and all the necessary apparatus
and workmen, be sent out by sea. These workmen must be bound by high
wages, and even bonds, to secure their faithful services, else the whole
plan may be frustrated by their going to the mines as soon as they arrive
in California. If this course be not adopted, gold to the amount of many
millions of dollars will pass yearly to other countries, to enrich their
merchants and capitalists. Before leaving the subject of mines, I will
mention that on my return from the Sacramento, I touched at New Almoder,
the quicksilver mine of Mr. Alexander Forbes, Consul of Her Britannic
Majesty at Tepic. This mine is in a spur of the mountains, 1000 feet above
the level of the Bay of San Francisco, and is distant in a southern
direction from the Puebla de San Jose about twelve miles. The ore
(cinnabar) occurs in a large vein dipping at a strong angle to the
horizon. Mexican miners are employed in working it, by driving shafts and
galleries about six feet by seven, following the vein.

The fragments of rock and ore are removed on the backs of Indians, in raw-
hide sacks. The ore is then hauled in an ox wagon, from the mouth of the
mine down to a valley well supplied with wood and water, in which the
furnaces are situated. The furnaces are of the simplest construction--
exactly like a common bake-oven, in the crown of which is inserted a
whaler's frying-kettle; another inverted kettle forms the lid. From a hole
in the lid a small brick channel leads to an apartment or chamber, in the
bottom of which is inserted a small iron kettle. The chamber has a
chimney.

In the morning of each day the kettles are filled with the mineral (broken
in small pieces) mixed with lime; fire is then applied and kept up all
day. The mercury is volatilized, passes into the chamber, is condensed on
the sides and bottom of the chamber, and flows into the pot prepared for
it. No water is used to condense the mercury.

During a visit I made last spring, four such ovens were in operation, and
yielded in the two days I was there 656 pounds of quicksilver, worth at
Mazatlan $180 per pound. Mr. Walkinshaw, the gentleman now in charge of
this mine, tells me that the vein is improving, and that he can afford to
keep his people employed even in these extraordinary times. The mine is
very valuable of itself, and will become the more so as mercury is
extensively used in obtaining gold. It is not at present used in
California for that purpose, but will be at some future time. When I was
at this mine last spring, other parties were engaged in searching for
veins, but none have been discovered worth following up, although the
earth in that whole range of hills is highly discolored, indicating the
presence of this ore. I send several beautiful specimens, properly
labelled. The amount of quicksilver in Mr. Forbes' vats on the 15th of
July was about 2,500 pounds.

I inclose you herewith sketches of the country through which I passed,
indicating the position of the mines and the topography of the country in
the vicinity of those I visited.

Some of the specimens of gold accompanying this were presented for
transmission to the Department by the gentlemen named below. The numbers
on the topographical sketch corresponding to the labels of the respective
specimens, show from what part of the gold region they are obtained.

1. Captain J. A. Sutter.
2. John Sinclair.
3. Wm. Glover, R. C. Kirby, Ira Blanchard, Levi Fifield, Franklin H.
Arynes, Mormon diggings.
4. Charles Weber.
5. Robert Spence.
6. Sunol & Co.
7. Robert D. Neligh.
8. C. E. Picket, American Fort Columa.
9. E. C. Kemble.
10. T. H. Green, from San Fernando, near Los Angelos.
     A. 2 oz. purchased from Mr. Neligh.
     B. Sand found in washing gold, which contains small particles.
11. Captain Frisbie, Dry Diggings, Weber's Creek.
12. Consumnes.
13. Consumnes, Hartwell's Ranch.

I have the honor to be your most ob't ser't,
R. B. MASON, Col. 1st Dragoons, Commanding.
Brig. Gen. R. JONES, Adj. Gen. U. S. A., Washington, D. C.


[NOTE.--The original letter, of which this is a copy, was sent to its
address, in charge of Lieut. L. Loeser, 3d Artillery, bearer of
dispatches, who sailed in the schooner Lambayecana, from Monterey, Aug.
30, 1848, bound for Payta, Peru. Lieut. Loeser bears, in addition to the
specimens mentioned in the foregoing letter, a tea-caddy containing two
hundred and thirty ounces fifteen pennyweights and nine grains of gold.
This was purchased at San Francisco by my order, and is sent to you as a
fair sample of the gold obtained from the mines of the Sacramento. It is a
mixture, coming from the various parts of the gold district.

R. B. MASON, Col. 1st Drag. Comd'g. HEADQUARTERS 10TH MIL. DEPARTMENT,
Monterey, (Cal.,) Sept. 10th, 1848.]



*       *       *       *       *


PURITY OF CALIFORNIA GOLD DUST.

The numerous analyses which have been made show that the gold dust of
California is remarkably pure. The editor of the Buffalo Commercial
Advertiser, under date of December 20th, 1848, says:--

"A small quantity of California gold was shown us this morning. It was in
grains, about the size and shape of flax seed. Altogether there was half
an ounce. It was received by a gentleman of this city, who, last year,
left a quantity of goods in California for sale on commission. A few days
ago he received advices that his goods had been sold, and the proceeds
remitted in gold dust to New York. The receipts from the mint show its
great purity. The weight before melting was 428 ounces; after melting 417.
Nett value, $7,685.49."

Gold is seldom found, in any parts of the earth, more than 22 carats fine:
and it will be seen by the following report lately made by an experienced
smelter and refiner, Mr. John Warwick, of New York city, that the gold
dust of California is as pure as that found in any part of this country.
Probably there is none in Europe purer:

"I have assayed the portion of gold dust, or metal, from California, sent
me, and the result shows that it is fully equal to any found in our
Southern gold mines.

I return you 103/4 grains out of the 12 which I have tested--the value of
which is 45 cents. It is 211/2 carats fine--within half a carat of the
quality of English sovereigns or American Eagles, and is almost ready to
go to the mint.

The finest gold metal we get is from Africa, which is 221/2 to 23 carats
fine. In Virginia we have mines where the quality of the gold is much
inferior--some of it as low as 19 carats, and in Georgia the mines produce
it nearly 22 carats fine.

The gold of California which I have now assayed, is fully equal to that of
any, and much superior to some produced from the mines in our Southern
States."



*       *       *       *       *


PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY OF CALIFORNIA.

Whatever appertains to California, the new El Dorado of the southwest, is
interesting to Americans and indeed to the whole civilized world. The
following brief account, therefore, of its physical geography, compiled
from authentic sources and carefully condensed, will readily receive the
attention of the inquiring mind:

"Upper California extends, upon the Pacific, from the 32d parallel of
latitude, about seven hundred miles north-westward to Oregon, from which
it is divided, nearly in the course of the 42d parallel--that is in the
latitude of Boston--by a chain of highlands called the Snowy Mountains;
the Sierra Nevada of the Spaniards. Its boundaries on the west are not, as
yet, politically determined by the Mexican government; nor do geographers
agree with regard to natural limits in that direction. By some, it is
considered as embracing only the territory between the Pacific and the
summit of the mountains which border the western side of the continent:
others extend its limits to the Colorado; while others include in it, and
others again exclude from it, the entire regions drained by that river.
The only portion occupied by Mexicans, or of which any distinct accounts
have been obtained, is that between the great chain of mountains and the
ocean; the country east of that ridge to the Colorado appears to be an
uninhabitable desert.

"Northward from the Peninsula, or Lower California, the great western-most
chain of mountains continues nearly parallel with the Pacific coast, to
the 34th degree of latitude, under which rises Mount San Bernardin, one of
the highest peaks in California, about forty miles from the ocean. Further
north the coast turns more to the west, and the space between it and the
summit line of the mountains becomes wider, so as to exceed eighty miles
in some places; the intermediate region being traversed by lines of hills,
or smaller mountains, connected with the main range. The principal of
these inferior ridges extends from Mount San Bernardin north-westward to
its termination on the south side of the entrance of the Bay of San
Franciso, near the 38th degree of latitude, where it is called the San
Bruno Mountains. Between this range and the coast run the San Barbara
Mountains, terminating on the north at the Cape of Pines, on the south-
west side of the Bay of Monterey, near the latitude 361/2 degrees. North of
the San Bruno mountains is the Bolbones ridge, bordering the Bay of San
Francisco on the east; and still further in the same direction are other
and much higher lines of highlands, stretching from the great chain and
terminating in capes on the Pacific.

"The southern part of Upper California, between the Pacific and the great
westernmost chain of mountains, is very hot and dry, except during a short
time in winter. Further north the wet season increases in length, and
about the Bay of San Francisco the rains are almost constant from November
to April, the earth being moistened during the remainder of the year by
heavy dews and fogs. Snow and ice are sometimes seen in the winter on the
shores of the bay, but never further south, except on the mountain tops.
The whole of California is, however, subject to long droughts." Heavy
rains are of rare occurrence, and two years without any is not unusual;
notwithstanding which, vegetation does not suffer to the extent that might
be inferred, because, in the first place, many small streams descend from
the mountain ranges, supplying the means of both natural and artificial
irrigation; and, next, that the country near the coast is favored with a
diurnal land and sea breeze; and, from the comparatively low temperature
of the sea, the latter is always in summer accompanied with fogs, in the
latter part of the night, and which are dissipated by the morning's sun,
but serve to moisten the pastures and nourish a somewhat peculiar
vegetation abounding in beautiful flowers.

"Among the valleys of Upper California are many streams, some of which
discharge large quantities of water in the rainy season; but no river is
known to flow through the maritime ridge of mountains from the interior to
the Pacific, except perhaps the Sacramento, falling into the Bay of San
Francisco, though several are thus represented on the maps. The valleys
thus watered afford abundant pasturage for cattle, with which they are
covered; California, however, contains but two tracts of country capable
of supporting large numbers of inhabitants, which are that west of Mt. San
Bernardin, about the 34th degree of latitude, and that surrounding the Bay
of San Francisco, and the lower part of the Sacramento; and even in these,
irrigation would be indispensable to insure success in agriculture."

"The provincial terms of New Mexico, and of Upper and Lower California,
have been, and are yet, rather designations of indefinite tracts than of
real defined political sections. The Pacific ocean limits on the west, and
by treaty, N. lat. 42 deg. on the north; but inland and southward, it is in
vain to seek any definite boundary. In order, however, to give as distinct
a view as the nature of the case will admit, let us adopt the mouth of the
Colorado and Gila, or the head of the Gulf of California, as a point on
the southern boundary of Upper California. The point assumed coincides
very nearly with N. lat. 32 deg. and, if adopted, would give to that country a
breadth of ten degrees of latitude or in round numbers 800 statute miles
from south to north. As already, stated, the Pacific Ocean bounds this
country on the west, and lat. 42 deg. on the north. To separate it on the east
from New Mexico, we must assume the mountain chain of Sierra Madre, or
Anahuac, which, in this region, inclines but little from north to south:
whilst the Pacific coast extends in general course north-west and south-
east. These opposite outlines contract the southern side to about 500
miles, and open the northern side to rather above 800 miles; giving a mean
breadth of 650 miles. The area, for all general purposes, may be safely
taken at 500,000 square miles. The general slope or declination of this
great region is westward, towards the Pacific and Gulf of California."

"The climate of the western slope of North America has a warmth ten
degrees at least higher than the eastern, upon similar latitude. The cause
of this difference is the course of prevailing winds in the temperate
zones of the earth, from the western points. Thus the winds on the western
side of the continent are from the ocean, and on the eastern from the
land.

"The soil is as variable as the face of the country. On the coast range of
hills there is little to invite the agriculturist, except in some vales of
no great extent. The hills are, however, admirably adapted for raising
herds and flocks, and are at present the feeding-grounds of numerous deer,
elk, &c., to which the short, sweet grass and wild oats that are spread
over them afford a plentiful supply of food. The valley of the Sacramento,
and that of San Juan, are the most fruitful parts of California,
particularly the latter, which is capable of producing wheat, Indian corn,
rye, oats, &c., with all the fruits of the temperate, and many of the
tropical climates. It likewise offers pasture grounds for cattle. This
region comprises a level plain, from fifteen to twenty miles in width,
extending from the Bay of San Francisco, beyond the mission of that name,
north and south. This may be termed the garden of California; but although
several small streams and lakes serve to water it, yet in dry seasons or
droughts, not only the crops but the herbage also suffers extremely, and
the cattle are deprived of food." The most extensive portion of Upper
California--the inland plain between the California and the Colorado range
of mountains--is an arid waste, destitute of the requisites for supplying
the wants of man. This plain is a waste of sand, with a few detached
mountains (some of which rise to the region of perpetual snow,) whose
positions are unknown; from these flow small streams that are soon lost in
the sand. A few Indians are scattered over the plain, the most miserable
objects in creation."

The climate is very peculiar, the thermometer on the coast ranging as
high, on the average, in winter as in summer. Indeed, summer is really the
coldest and most disagreeable part of the year, owing to the north-west
winds which frequently prevail during that season. As you recede from the
coast, however, the climate undergoes a great change for the better. At
San Juan, thirty miles from the coast, is one of the most delightful
climates in the world. The two principal rivers in Upper California are
the Sacramento and the San Joaquim. There are, however, many smaller
streams flowing through the different valleys, which serve, during the dry
season, to irrigate the land. The only navigable stream is the Sacramento.

Beside the bays and harbors of Monterey, Santa Barbara and San Pedro,
Upper California possesses the harbor of San Francisco, within a few miles
of the Gold Mines, and one of the largest and most magnificent harbors in
the world.

The yield of wheat, small grain, and vegetables, is said to be great, and
very remarkable, but, as agriculture cannot succeed in Upper California,
but by irrigation, it has hitherto happened that it has been principally
occupied as a pastoral country--as costing less labor to rear cattle, for
which it is only necessary to provide keepers, and have them marked. The
numerous animals which are there slaughtered for little more than their
hides and tallow, do not putrify and become offensive as they would in
other climates, but, as wood is not everywhere as abundant as their bones,
the last are sometimes used to supply the place of the former, in the
construction of garden fences &c.

"The area of Upper California is about 500,000 square miles, and the
population, exclusive of Indians scattered over this extent, as follows:

Californians descended from Spain,----------------- 4000
Americans from United States,----------------------  360
English, Scotch, and Irish,------------------------  300
European Spaniards,--------------------------------   80
French and Canadians,------------------------------   80
Germans, Italians, Portugese, and Sandwich Islanders, 90
Mexicans,------------------------------------------   90
                                                    ____
Total---------------------------------------------- 5000

"Upper California is, on the whole, admirably fitted for colonization.
This province presents the greatest facilities for raising cattle, for
cultivating corn, plants, and for the grape; it might contain twenty
millions of inhabitants; and its ports are a point of necessary
communication for vessels going from China and Asia to the western coasts
of North America.

"It is beyond doubt, that so soon as an intelligent and laborious
population is established there, this country will occupy an elevated rank
in the commercial scale; it would form the _entrepot_ where the
coasts of the great ocean would send their products, and would furnish the
greatest part of their subsistence in grains to the north-west, to Mexico,
to Central America, to Ecuador, to Peru, to the north coast of Asia, and
to many groups of Polynesia--such as the Sandwich isles, the Marquesas,
and Tahiti."

"The peninsula of Lower California, extending from Cape San Lucas to the
Bay of Todos Santos, in lat. 32 deg. N., on the Pacific, and to the mouth of
the Colorado on the Gulf side, is a pile of volcanic debris and scoriae.
Much of the surface is still heated by subterranean fires. No craters are
in action; but hot springs of water and bitumen, and frequent earthquakes,
and the scorched face of the whole region, demonstrate it to be a mere
mass upheaved from the sea, and burned to cinders. The range of mountains
that comes up through Lower California, runs on northwardly into Upper
California, at an average distance of sixty or seventy miles from the sea,
till it falls away into low hills south of the bay of San Francisco. This,
also, is a volcanic range; though not so strongly marked to that effect in
the Upper as in the Lower Province.

"Some portions of this range are lofty. That part lying east and southeast
of El Pueblo de los Angelos, is tipped with perpetual snows. But the
greater part of it presents a base covered up to more than half of the
whole elevation with pine and cedar forests; the remaining height being
composed of bare, dark, glistening rocks, lying in confused masses, or
turreted in the manner observed on the Black Hills in the Great Prairie
Wilderness---spires, towers, and battlements, lifted up to heaven, among
which the white feathery clouds of beautiful days rest shining in the
mellow sun.

"The Snowy Mountain range is perhaps the boldest and most peculiar of the
California highlands. Its western terminus is Cape Mendocino, a bold snow-
capped headland, bending over the Pacific in 40 deg. north latitude. Its
western terminus is in the Wind River Mountains, latitude 42 deg. N., about
seven hundred miles from the sea. Its peculiarity consists in what may be
termed its confused geological character. Near the sea its rocks are
primitive, its strata regular. A hundred miles from the sea where the
President's range crosses it, everything is fused--burned; and at the
distance of seventy miles northeastwardly from the Bay of San Francisco, a
spur comes off with a lofty peak, which pours out immense quantities of
lava, and shoots up a flame so broad and bright as to be seen at sea, and
to produce distinct shadows at eighty miles' distance. Here is an
extensive tract of this range which has been burned, and whose strata have
been torn from their natural positions; displaying an amalgamated mass of
primitive rock _ex loco_, mingled with various descriptions of
volcanic remains. From this point eastward, it is a broken irregular chain
of peaks and rifted collateral ranges, and spurs running off northwardly
and southwardly, some of which are primitive and others volcanic.

"Another range of mountains which deserves notice in this place, is that
which bounds the valley of the San Joaquim on the east. This is a wide and
towering range. It is in fact a continuation of the President's range, and
partakes very strongly of its volcanic character. That part of it which
lies eastwardly from the Bay of San Francisco, is very broad and lofty.
One of its peaks, Mount Jackson, as it is called, is the highest in all
the President's range. Mountains of great size are piled around it, but
they appear like molehills beside that veteran mount. Its vast peak towers
over them all several thousand feet, a glittering cone of ice.

"All over the Californias, the traveler finds evidences of volcanic
action. Far in the interior, among the deserts; in the streams; in the
heights; in the plains; everywhere, are manifestations of the fact, that
the current of subterranean fire which crossed the Pacific, throwing up
that line of islands lying on the south of the Sea of Kamschatka, and
passed down the continent, upheaving the Oregon territory, did also bring
up from the bed of the ocean the Californias.

"The peninsula, or lower California, which extends from Cape San Lucas in
N. lat. 22 deg. 48', to the Bay of Todos Santos in lat. 32 deg. N., is a pile of
barren, volcanic mountains, with very few streams, and still fewer spots
of ground capable of sustaining vegetation. The territory lying north and
south of the Colorado of the west, and within the boundaries of the
Californias, is a howling desolation.

"From the highlands near the mouth of the Rio Colorado, a wild and
somewhat interesting scene opens. In the east appears a line of mountains
of a dark hue, stretching down the coast of the Gulf as far as the eye can
reach. These heights are generally destitute of trees; but timber grows in
some of the ravines. The general aspect, however, is far from pleasing.
There is such a vastness of monotonous desolation; so dry, so blistered
with volcanic fires; so forbidding to the wants of thirsting and hungering
men, that one gladly turns his eye upon the water, the _Mar de
Cortez_, the Gulf of California. The Colorado, two and a half miles in
width, rushes into this Gulf with great force, lashing as it goes the
small islands lying at its mouth, and for many leagues around the waters
of the Gulf are discolored by its turbulent flood. On the west, sweep away
the mountains of Lower California. These also are a thirsty mass of burned
rocks, so dry that vegetation finds no resting-place among them.

"That province of Lower California varies from thirty to one hundred and
fifty miles in width, a superficial extent almost equal to that of Great
Britain; and yet on account of its barrenness, never will, from the
products of the soil, maintain five hundred thousand people in a state of
comfort, ordinarily found in the civilized condition. Every few years
tornadoes sweep over the country with such violence, and bearing with them
such floods of rain, that whatever of soil has been in any manner
previously formed, is swept into the sea. So that even those little nooks
among the mountains, where the inhabitants from time to time make their
fields, and task the vexed earth for a scanty subsistence, are liable to
be laid bare by the torrents. In case the soil chance to be lodged in some
other dell, before it reach the Ocean or the Gulf, and the people follow
it to its new location, they find perhaps no water there and cannot
cultivate it. Consequently they are often driven by dreadful want to some
other point in quest of sustenance, where they may not find it, and perish
among the parched highlands. The mean range of temperature in the whole
country in the summer season is from 60 deg. to 74 deg. Fahrenheit. The rains fall
in the winter months; are very severe, and of short duration. During the
remainder of the year the air is dry and clear; and the sky more beautiful
than the imagination can conceive.

"The range of mountains occupying the whole interior of this country, vary
in height from one to five thousand feet above the level of the sea. They
are almost bare of all verdure, mere brown piles of barrenness, sprinkled
here and there with a cluster of briars, small shrubs, or dwarf trees.
Among the ridges are a few spots to which the sweeping rains have spared a
little soil. These, if watered by springs or streams, are beautiful and
productive. There are also a few places near the coast which are well
adapted to tillage and pasturage.

"But the principal difficulty with this region, is one common to all
countries of volcanic, origin,--a scarcity of water. The porousness of the
rocks allows it to pass under ground to the sea. Consequently one finds
few streams and springs in Lower California. From the Cape San Lucas to
the mouth of the Colorado, six hundred miles, there are only two streams
emptying into the Gulf. One of these is called San Josef del Cabo. It
passes through the plantations of the Mission bearing the same name, and
discharges itself into the bay of San Barnabas. The other is the Mulege,
which waters the Mission of Santa Rosalia, and enters the Gulf in latitude
27 deg. N. These are not navigable. The streams on the ocean coast, also, are
few and small. Some of them are large enough to propel light machinery, or
irrigate considerable tracts of land, but none of them are navigable. In
the interior are several large springs, which send out abundant currents
along the rocky beds of their upper courses; but when they reach the loose
sands and porous rocks of the lower country, they sink and enter the sea
through subterranean channels. A great misfortune it is too, that the
lands which border those portions of these streams which run above the
ground, consist of barren rocks. Where springs, however, and arable land
occur together, immense fertility is the consequence. There is some
variety of climate on the coasts, which it may be well to mention. On the
Pacific shore the temperature is rendered delightfully balmy by the sea
breezes, and the humidity which they bring along with them. Fahrenheit's
thermometer ranges on this coast, during the summer, between fifty-eight
and seventy-one degrees. In the winter months, while the rains are
falling, it sinks as low as fifty degrees above zero. On the Gulf coast
there is a still greater variation. While at the Cape, the mercury stands
between sixty and seventy degrees, near the head of the Gulf it is down to
the freezing point.

"These isolated facts, in regard to the great territory under
consideration, will give the reader as perfect an idea of the surface and
agricultural capacities of Lower California as will be here needed.



*       *       *       *       *


DIFFERENT ROUTES TO CALIFORNIA.

There are four different routes to California from the United States. One
is from New York to Vera Cruz, thence across Mexico by the
_Diligencia_, to Acapulco on the Pacific, where all the northern
bound vessels touch. This route would be preferable to all others, were it
not for the fact that the road from Vera Cruz to Acapulco is infested with
robbers.

Another route is by steam around Cape Horn--a long voyage, though perhaps
the cheapest route. It should be performed in our winter, when it is
summer in the Southern Hemisphere and consequently warmer at Cape Horn
than at any other season of the year. The fare on this route by steam is
about $350. The time of performing the voyage is about 130 days.

Another route is by the Isthmus of Darien. The fare on this route is as
follows:

From New York to Chagres (by steam)---------- $150
From Chagres to Panama, across the Isthmus---   20
From Panama to San Francisco-----------------  250
From New York to Chagres (by sailing vessel)-   80

The time of the voyage is as follows:--

From New York to Chagres----- 12 to 15 days.
From Chagres to Panama-------        2 "
From Panama to San Francisco-       20 "

The following description of Chagres and Panama, will be found both
interesting and valuable to the traveler on this route.


THE TOWN OF CHAGRES,

as it is usually called, but in reality village, or collection of huts,
is, as is well known, situated at the mouth of the river Chagres, where it
empties itself into the Atlantic ocean.

It is but a small village, and the harbor is likewise small, though
secure. It is formed by the jutting out of a narrow neck of land, and is
defended by the castle, which is built on a high bluff on the other side.
The village itself, as I have before said, is merely a collection of huts,
and is situated in the midst of a swamp--at least the ground is low, and
the continual rains which prevail at Chagres, keep it in a swampy
condition. Chagres is inhabited by colored people, entirely, with the
exception of some few officials at the castle and in the custom-house. Its
population, (I speak, of course, of it previous to the influx,) was
probably not more than 500 in all, if so much.


ITS CLIMATE

is, without doubt, the most pestiferous for whites in the whole world. The
coast of Africa, which enjoys a dreadful reputation in this way, is not so
deadly in its climate as is Chagres. The thermometer ranges from 78 deg. to
85 deg. all the year, and it rains every day. Many a traveler who has
incautiously remained there for a few days and nights, has had cause to
remember Chagres; and many a gallant crew, who have entered the harbor in
full health, have, ere many days, found their final resting place on the
dank and malarious banks of the river. Bilious, remittent, and congestive
fever, in their most malignant forms, seem to hover over Chagres, ever
ready to pounce down on the stranger. Even the acclimated resident of the
tropics runs a great risk in staying any time in Chagres; but the stranger
fresh from the North and its invigorating breezes, runs a most fearful
one.


THE RIVER JOURNEY

is performed in canoes, propelled up the stream by means of poles. There
are two points at which one may land, viz: the villages of Gorgona and
Cruces. The distance from Chagres to the first named, is about 45 or 50
miles--to the latter, some 50 or 55 miles. The traveler, who for the first
time in his life embarks on a South American river like the Chagres,
cannot fail to experience a singular depression of spirits at the dark and
sombre aspect of the scene. In the first place, he finds himself in a
canoe, so small that he is forced to lay quietly in the very centre of the
stern portion, in order to prevent it upsetting. The palm leaf thatch (or
_toldo_, as it is termed on the river) over his portion of the boat,
shuts out much of the view, while his baggage, piled carefully amidships,
and covered with oil cloths, _encerrados_ as they are termed, is
under the charge of his active boatman, who, stripped to the buff, with
long pole in hand, expertly propels the boat up stream, with many a cry
and strange exclamation. The river itself is a dark, muddy, and rapid
stream; in some parts quite narrow, and again at other points it is from
300 to 500 yards wide. Let no one fancy that it resembles the bright and
cheerful rivers which are met with here at the North. No pleasant villages
adorn its banks--no signs of civilization are seen on them, nothing but
the sombre primeval forest, which grows with all the luxury of the tropics
down to the very margin of its swampy banks.

A light canoe with two active boatmen and but one passenger in it, will
reach Cruces in ten or twelve hours, whilst a heavier one might require
thirty-six hours to accomplish the passage. The passenger must take his
provisions with him, as none are to be had on the river.

A doubloon ($16) was the lowest charge for a single passenger, and from
that up to two, three, and even four doubloons. As for taking our boats
from here, and rowing them up the river, I should think it would be a
hopeless attempt. Hardy boatmen from our southwestern States, who are
accustomed to a much similar mode of travel on their rivers, would
probably be able to accomplish it; but in that burning and unhealthy
climate, for young men fresh from the North, unacquainted with the dangers
of such navigation, and all unacclimated, to attempt such a feat would be
madness indeed.

Let us, however, suppose the journey completed, and our adventurer safely
arrived at

CRUCES

He may now congratulate himself on having achieved the most toilsome part
of his journey, and but twenty-one miles of land route intervene between
him and the glorious Pacific Ocean. Cruces is a small village, situated on
a plain, immediately on the banks of the river, which here are high and
sandy. Gorgona, the other landing place, is a few miles below Cruces, and
is likewise a small village, very similar to Cruces--in fact, all South
American villages resemble one another very much. From these two points,
both about the same distance from Panama, there are roads to that city,
which roads unite about nine miles from it. Starting from either point he
commences his

JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS.

The usual method of performing it, is on horse or on mule-back, with
another mule to carry the baggage and a muleteer who acts as guide. The
road is a mere bridle path, and as the rains on the Isthmus are very
heavy, and there is more or less of them all the year round, the mud-holes
and swampy places to be crossed are very numerous. Those who, at the
North, talk gaily of a walk across the Isthmus, as if the road were as
plain and easy as some of our macadamized turnpikes, would alter their
tone a little, could they see the road as it is. As for walking from
Cruces to Panama, in case mules are scarce, the feat is by no means
impossible, provided the traveler arrives in Cruces in good health, and
has but little baggage. It might easily be done with the assistance of a
guide; but let no stranger, unacquainted with the language and new to such
countries, attempt it without a guide. Having, then, fairly started from
Cruces, either on horse or on foot, after a toilsome journey of some eight
or ten hours, the Savanna of Panama is at last reached, and the sight of
the broad and glittering Pacific Ocean, and the white towers of the
Cathedral of Panama, which are seen at the distance of about four miles
from the city, give the now weary traveler assurance that his journey will
shortly end; and another hour's toil brings him to the suburbs of the
famed


CITY OF PANAMA.

We will find, however, that with this, as with most other South American
cities,

"'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And clothes the mountain with its azure hue."

The city of Panama is situated on the shores of the bay of that name, and
a most beautiful bay it is, too. What is the number of the present
population, I cannot say, as it is doubtless filled with strangers--it
formerly contained from 5000 to 7000 inhabitants, and was a quiet, still
city, where, during the day, nought but the sounds of the convent bell and
church bells disturbed the horses of the citizens in their grazings in the
public squares, which were all overgrown with grass. The trade carried on
consisted in importing dry goods from Jamaica, for the supply of the
Isthmenians, the neighboring produce of Veragua, the Pearl Islands, the
towns of Chiriqui, David, and their vicinities, and the various little
inland towns. Goods also were sent down to the ports of Payta, in Peru,
and Guayaquil, in the Ecuador. The returns made for these goods, consisted
in the produce of the Isthmus: such as gold dust, hides, India rubber,
pearl oyster shells, (from which the mother of pearl of commerce is made,)
sarsaparilla, &c. The climate is warm, say from 80 to 85 degrees all the
year round--the rainy season long and severe. The nights in Panama,
however, are much cooler than usual in tropical climate.

The other route is the overland, by Independence. The details of this
route are given below by Mr. Edwin Bryant, the author of "What I saw in
California." They were communicated to the Louisville Courier in answer to
questions but to Mr. B. by the editor:

_First_--Which route by land is the best for the emigrant?

_Answer_--The route via Independence or St. Joseph, Missouri, to Fort
Daramie, South Pass, Fort Hall, the Sink of Mary's River, &c. &c. the old
route. Let no emigrant, carrying his family with him, deviate from it, or
imagine to himself that he can find a better road. This road is the best
that has yet been discovered, and to the Bay of San Francisco and the gold
regions it is much the shortest. The Indians, moreover, on this route,
have, up to the present time been so friendly as to commit no acts of
hostility on the emigrants. The trail is plain and good, where there are
no physical obstructions and the emigrant, by taking this route, will
certainly reach his destination in good season, and without disaster. From
our information we would most earnestly advise all emigrants to take this
trail, without deviation, if they would avoid the fatal calamities which
almost invariably have attended those who have undertaken to explore new
routes.

_Second_--What kind of wagon and team is preferable?

_Answer_--The lightest wagon that can be constructed of sufficient
strength to carry 2,500 pounds weight, as the vehicle most desirable. No
wagon should be loaded over this weight, for if it is, it will be certain
to stall in the muddy sloughs and crossings on the prairie in the first
part of the journey. This wagon can be hauled by three or four yokes of
oxen or six mules. Oxen are usually employed by the immigrants for hauling
their wagons. They travel about fifteen miles per day, and all things
considered, are perhaps equal to mules for this service, although they
cannot travel so fast. They are, however, less expensive, and there is not
so much danger of their starving and of being stolen by the Indians.

Pack-mules can only be employed by parties of men. It would be very
difficult to transport a party of women and children on pack-mules with
the provisions, clothing and baggage necessary to their comfort. A party
of men, however, with pack-mules, can make the journey in less time by one
month than it can be done in wagons, carrying with them, however, nothing
more than their provisions clothing and ammunition.

For parties of men going out, it would be well to haul their wagons,
provisions, &c., as far as Fort Laramie or Fort Hall by mules, carrying
with them pack-saddles and _alforgases_, or large saddle-bags,
adapted to the pack saddle, with ropes for packing, &c., when, if they saw
proper, they could dispose of their wagons for Indian ponies, and pack
into California, gaining perhaps two or three weeks' time.

_Third_--What provisions are necessary to a man?

_Answer_-- The provisions actually necessary per man are as follows.

     Of Flour, .....150 lbs.   |     Of Bacon, ..... 150 lbs.
        Coffee,..... 25 "      |        Sugar, ...... 30 "

Added to these, the main items, there should be a small quantity of rice,
fifty or seventy-five pounds of crackers, dried peaches, &c., and a keg of
lard, with salt, pepper, &c., with such other luxuries of light weight as
the person out-fitting chooses to purchase. He will think of them before
he starts.

_Fourth_--What arms and ammunition are necessary?

_Answer_--Every man should be provided with a good rifle, and if
convenient with a pair of pistols, five pounds of powder and ten pounds of
lead. A revolving belt pistol may be found useful.

With the wagon there should be carried such carpenter's tools as a hand-
saw, auger, gimblet, chisel, shaving-knife, &c., an axe, hammer, and
hatchet. The last weapon every man should have in his belt, with a
hunter's or a bowie knife.

_Fifth_--What is the length of the journey?

_Answer_--From Independence to the first settlement in California,
which is near the gold region, is about 2050 miles--to San Francisco, 2290
miles.

_Sixth_--What is the time for starting?

_Answer_--Emigrants should be at Independence, St. Joseph, Mo., or
the point of starting, by the 20th of April, and start as soon thereafter
as the grass on the prairies will permit. This is sometimes by the first
of May, and sometimes ten days later, according to the season.



*       *       *       *       *


THE GOLD REGIONS--MISCELLANEOUS MATTER.

The following extract is from a letter written by Thomas O. Larkin to Mr.
Buchanan, the Secretary of State. It is dated at Monterey, June 28, 1848.

I am of the opinion that on the American fork, Feather River, and Copimes
River, there are near two thousand people, nine-tenths of them foreigners.
Perhaps there are one hundred families, who have their teams, wagons and
tents. Many persons are waiting to see whether the months of July and
August will be sickly, before they leave their present business to go to
the "Placer." The discovery of this gold was made by some Mormons, in
January or February, who for a time kept it a secret; the majority of
those who are working there began in May. In most every instance the men,
after digging a few days, have been compelled to leave for the purpose of
returning home to see their families, arrange their business and purchase
provisions. I feel confident in saying there are fifty men in this
"placer" who have on an average $1000 each, obtained in May and June. I
have not met with any person who had been fully employed in washing gold
one month; most, however, appear to have averaged an ounce per day. I
think there must, by, this time, be over 1000 men at work upon the
different branches of the Sacramento; putting their gains at $10,000 per
day, for six days in the week, appears to me not overrated.

Should this news reach the emigration of California and Oregon, now on the
road, connected with the Indian wars, now impoverishing the latter
country, we should have a large addition to our population; and should the
richness of the gold region continue, our emigrants in 1849 will be many
thousand, and in 1850 still more. If our countrymen in California as
clerks, mechanics and workmen will forsake employment at from $2 to $6 per
day, how many more of the same class in the Atlantic States, earning much
less, will leave for this country under such prospects? It is the opinion
of many who have visited the gold regions the past and present months,
that the ground will afford gold for many years, perhaps for a century.
From my own examination of the rivers and their banks, I am of opinion
that, at least for a few years, the golden products will equal the present
year. However, as neither men of science, nor the laborers now at work,
have made any explorations of consequence, it is a matter of impossibility
to give any opinion as to the extent and richness of this part of
California. Every Mexican who has seen the place says throughout their
Republic there has never been any "placer like this one."

Could Mr. Polk and yourself see California as we now see it, you would
think that a few thousand people, on 100 miles square of the Sacramento
valley, would yearly turn out of this river the whole price our country
pays for the acquired territory. When I finished my first letter I doubted
my own writing, and, to be better satisfied, showed it to one of the
principal merchants of San Francisco, and to Capt. Folsom, of the
Quartermaster's Department, who decided at once I was far below the
reality. You certainly will suppose, from my two letters, that I am, like
others, led away by the excitement of the day. I think I am not. In my
last I inclosed a small sample of the gold dust, and I find my only error
was in putting a value to the sand. At that time I was not aware how the
gold was found; I now can describe the mode of collecting it.

A person without a machine, after digging off one or two feet of the upper
ground, near the water (in some cases they take the top earth,) throws
into a tin pan or wooden bowl a shovel full of loose dirt and stones; then
placing the basin an inch or two under water, continues to stir up the
dirt with his hand in such a manner that the running water will carry off
the light earths, occasionally, with his hand, throwing out the stones;
after an operation of this kind for twenty or thirty minutes, a spoonful
of small black sand remains; this is, on a handkerchief or cloth, dried in
the sun, the emerge is blown off, leaving the pure gold. I have the
pleasure of inclosing a paper of this sand and gold, which I, from a
bucket of dirt and stones, in half an hour, standing at the edge of the
water, washed out myself. The value of it may be $2 or $3.

The size of the gold depends in some measure upon the river from which it
is taken, the banks of one river having larger grains of gold than
another. I presume more than one-half of the gold put into pans or
machines is washed out and goes down the stream; this is of no consequence
to the washers, who care only for the present time. Some have formed
companies of four or five men, and have a rough-made machine put together
in a day, which worked to much advantage, yet many prefer to work alone,
with a wooden bowl or tin pan, worth fifteen or twenty cents in the
States, but eight to sixteen dollars at the gold region. As the workmen
continue, and materials can be obtained, improvements will take place in
the mode of obtaining gold; at present it is obtained by standing in the
water, and with much severe labor, or such as is called here severe labor.

How long this gathering of gold by the handful will continue here, or the
future effect it will have on California, I cannot say. Three-fourths of
the houses in the town on the Bay of San Francisco are deserted. Houses
are sold at the price of the ground lots. The effects are this week
showing themselves in Monterey. Almost every house I had hired out is
given up. Every blacksmith, carpenter and lawyer is leaving; brick yards,
saw mills and ranches are left perfectly alone. A large number of the
volunteers at San Francisco and Sonoma have deserted; some have been
retaken and brought back; public and private vessels are losing their
crews: my clerks have had 100 per cent advance offered them on their wages
to accept employment. A complete revolution in the ordinary state of
affairs is taking place; both of our newspapers are discontinued from want
of workmen and the loss of their agencies; the Alcaldes have left San
Francisco, and I believe Sonoma likewise; the former place has not a
Justice of the Peace left.

The second Alcalde of Monterey to-day joins the keepers of our principal
hotel, who have closed their office and house, and will leave tomorrow for
the golden rivers. I saw on the ground a lawyer who was last year Attorney
General of the King of the Sandwich Islands, digging and washing out his
ounce and a half per day; near him can be found most all his brethren of
the long robe, working in the same occupation.

To conclude; my letter is long, but I could not well describe what I have
seen in less words, and I now can believe that my account may be doubted;
if the affair proves a bubble, a mere excitement, I know not how we can
all be deceived, as we are situated. Gov. Mason and his staff have left
Monterey to visit the place in question, and will, I suppose, soon forward
to his department his views and opinions on this subject. Most of the land
where gold has been discovered, is public land; there are, on different
rivers, some private grants. I have three such, purchased in 1846 and '47,
but have not learned that any private lands have produced gold, though
they may hereafter do so.



*       *       *       *       *


Here is a letter of great sprightliness, beauty and interest, prepared by
that finished scholar and noted writer, the Rev. Walter Colton, Alcalde of
Monterey.

MONTEREY, California, Aug. 29, 1848.

The gold discoveries still continue--every day brings some new deposit to
light. It has been found in large quantities on the Sacramento, Feather
River, Yerba River, the American fork--North and South branches--the
Cosamer, and in many dry ravines, and indeed on the tops of high hills The
tract of country in which it is ascertained to exist, extends some two
hundred miles North and South, and some sixty East and West; and these
limits are every day enlarging by new discoveries. On the streams where
the gold has been subjected to the action of water and sand, it exists in
fine grains; on the hills and among the clefts of the rocks it is found in
rough, jagged pieces of a quarter or half an ounce in weight, and
sometimes two or three ounces.

The gold is obtained in a variety of ways; some wash it out of the sand
with bowls, some with a machine made like a cradle, only longer and open
at the foot, while at the other end, instead of a squalling infant, there
is a grating upon which the earth is thrown, and then water; both pass
through the grating,--the cradle is rocked, and being on an inclined
plane, the water carries off the earth, and the gold is deposited in the
bottom of the cradle. So the two things most prized in this world, gold
and infant beauty, are both rocked out of their primitive stage, one to
pamper pride, and the other to pamper the worm. Some forego cradles and
bowls as too tame an occupation, and mounted on horses, half wild, dash up
the mountain gorges and over the steep hills, picking the gold from the
clefts of the rocks with their bowie knives,--a much better use to make of
these instruments than picking the life out of men's bodies; for what is a
man with that article picked out of him?

A larger party, well mounted, are following up the channel of the
Sacramento, to discover where this gold, found in its banks, comes from;
and imagine that near the river's fount they will find the great yellow
mass itself. But they might as well hunt the fleeting rainbow. The gold
was thrown up from the bed of the ocean with the rocks and sands in which
it is found; and still bears, where it has escaped the action of the
element, vivid traces of volcanic fire. It often encases a crystal of
quartz, in which the pebble lies as if it had slumbered there from
eternity; its beautiful repose sets human artifice at defiance. How
strange that this ore should have lain here, scattered about in all
directions, peeping everywhere out of the earth, and sparkling in the sun,
and been trod upon for ages by white men and savages, and by the
emissaries of every scientific association in the world, and never till
now have been discovered! What an ass man is, with all his learning! He
stupidly stumbles over hills of gold to reach a rare pepper pod, or rifle
a bird's nest!

The whole country is now moving on the mines. Monterey, San Francisco,
Sonoma, San Jose, and Santa Cruz, are emptied of their male population. A
stranger coming here would suppose he had arrived among a race of women,
who, by some anomalous provision of nature, multiplied their images
without the presence of the other sex. But not a few of the women have
gone too, especially those who had got out of tea--for what is women
without her tea pot--a pythoness without her shaking trypod--an angel that
has lost his lyre. Every bowl, tray, warming-pan, and piggin has gone to
the mines. Everything in short, that has a scoop in it that will hold sand
and water. All the iron has been worked up into crow-bars, pick-axes and
spades. And all these roll back upon us in the shape of gold. We have,
therefore, plenty of gold, but little to eat, and still less to wear. Our
supplies must come from Oregon, Chili and the United States. Our grain
gold, in exchange for coin, sells for nine and ten dollars the ounce,
though it is well known to be worth at the mint in Philadelphia eighteen
dollars the ounce at least. Such is the scarcity of coin here.

We want a mint. Let Congress send us one at once over the Isthmus; else
this grain gold goes to Mazatlan, to Chili and Peru--where it is lost to
our national currency. Over a million of gold, at the lowest computation,
is taken from these mines every month---and this quantity will be more
than doubled when the emigration from they States, from Oregon, the
Sandwich Islands, and the Southern republics arrives. Send us a mint! I
could give you forty more illustrations of the extent and productiveness
of these mines, but no one will believe what I _have_ said without my
name, and perhaps but few with it.



*       *       *       *       *


LETTER FROM CAPT. FOLSOM.

The latest and most authentic intelligence from the Gold Regions of
California, is the most interesting and the best. The following letter
from Capt. Folsom, it will be seen, is of recent date; and on perusal the
reader will find it is pregnant with valuable facts:


SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA, Oct. 8th, 1848.

MY DEAR SIR:--The prices of labor here will create surprise in the United
States. Kannakas, or Sandwich Islanders, the worst of laborers, are now
employed constantly about town in storing and landing merchandise at a
dollar an hour each; and the most indifferent laborers are hired by the
week together at six or eight dollars per day. Mechanics obtain, when
employed by the day, eight or ten dollars per day, and by the month about
six. In a few days, as the sickly season is over, I presume wages will
advance, for most of the laboring classes are returning to the mines.

I have just completed the repairs upon a government lighter, preparatory
to discharging the cargo of the transport ship Huntress. I attempted to
hire a lighter to effect this, but could not get one capable of containing
one hundred and twenty barrels manned by two men, short of fifty dollars
per day. I have had the master of the government lighter employed for
several days in getting a crew for her; and when he offers $80 per month
for sailors, he is laughed at, and told that a man can get that amount at
the mines in one day.

A few days since, I sent a wagon-master to employ some men to handle
stores in the public warehouse. After searching about the town in vain,
for several hours, he saw a man on the dock whom he felt sure of getting,
for the individual in question did not seem to be blessed with a
redundancy of this world's gear. He was wearing a slouched hat without a
crown, a dilapidated buckskin hunting shirt or frock, a very uncleanly red
woolen shirt, with pantaloons hanging in tatters, and his feet had an
apology for a covering in one old shoe, and one buckskin moccasin, sadly
the worse for wear and age. When asked if he wanted employment, he replied
in the affirmative; and as the young man was proceeding to tell him what
he wished to have him do, he was interrupted with "It is not that kind of
work, sir, that I want; (at the same time taking a bag containing about
_two quarts_ of gold dust from his buckskin shirt,) I want to work in
the mines, sir. Look here, stranger, do you see this? This bag contains
gold dust; and do you suppose I am to make a d----d nigger of myself,
handling boxes and barrels for _eight or ten dollars per day?_ I
should think not, stranger!" And our friend left in a most contemptuous
manner. Nor was this a solitary instance of like conduct; they occur daily
and hourly in this village.

All sorts of labor is got at enormous rates of compensation. Common clerks
and salesmen in the stores about town often receive as high as $2500 and
their board. The clerk now in my office is a young boy, who, until a few
weeks since, was a _private of volunteers_, and I am now paying him
$1500 per annum. This will not appear high, when I tell you that I have
just seen upon his table a wash bill, made out and paid, at the rate of
eight dollars per dozen; and that almost every thing else is at
corresponding prices. The principal waiter in the hotel where I board is
paid $1,700 per year, and several others from $1,200 to $1,500. I
fortunately have an Indian boy, or I should be forced to clean my own
boots, for I could not employ a good body servant for the full amount of
my salary as a government officer. It will be impossible for any army
officer to live here upon his pay without becoming rapidly impoverished,
for his time is not his own to enter upon business; and although he might
have money, his opportunities for making it useful to him are few, unless
he invests it in real estate. Unless something is done, I am unable to see
how it is possible for officers, living upon the salaries granted by law
to military men, to support themselves in this country.

I believe every army officer in California, with one or two exceptions,
would have resigned last summer, could they have done it and been free at
once to commence for themselves. But the war was not then terminated, and
no one could hope to communicate with Washington correspondents, to get an
answer in less than six, and perhaps ten months. For some time last
summer, (August and July,) the officers at Monterey were entirely without
servants; and the Governor (Col. Mason,) actually took his turn in cooking
for his mess. Unless some prompt action is taken to pay both officers and
men serving in this country, in proportion to the unavoidable expenses to
be incurred, the former will resign and the latter will desert, and it
will be impossible to maintain a military force in California.

I look upon California as perhaps the richest mineral country on the
globe. I have written you at great length as to the gold, and since the
date of that letter other and richer mines have been discovered. Rich
silver mines are known to exist in various parts of the country, but they
are not worked. Quicksilver mines are found at innumerable places, and
many of them afford the richest ores. The new Almadin mine at Santa Clara
gives the richest ore of which we have any accounts. With very imperfect
machinery, it yields upward of fifty per cent, and the proprietors are now
working it, and are preparing to quadruple their force. Iron, copper,
lead, tin, sulphur, zinc, platinum, cobalt, &c. are said to be found in
abundance, and most of them are known to exist in various sections of the
country.

As an agricultural territory, its great disadvantage is a want of rain;
but this is by no means so great as has been represented. I believe
California can be made to produce as fine wheat, rye, oats, buckwheat,
barley, vegetables, and fruits, especially grapes, as any portion of the
world. Nothing that has been fairly tried has failed, and nearly every
thing has produced wonderfully. The portions of the soil which are capable
of cultivation are inconsiderable in comparison with the whole area of the
country; but the soil about this bay, and in many of the large valleys, is
equal to the wants of a dense population. It is proverbially healthy, and
with the exception of portions of the Sacramento and San Joaquin valleys,
no country ever had, at the same period of its settlement, a more
salubrious climate.

I think California affords means for the investment of capital such as few
other countries offer. Any person who could come in here now with ready
cash would be certain of doubling his money in a few months. Large
fortunes will be made here within the ensuing year, and I am told that
there are some hundreds of persons who have already made on an average
$25,000 each. Whole cargoes of goods are sold at an average of about 150
per cent. clear profit, and ready pay in gold dust.

When I came to this place I expended a few hundred dollars in waste lots,
covered with bushes and sand hills. The chapter of events which has
followed is likely to make this property quite valuable, if I am able to
look after it. What cost me less than $800, I suppose I could now sell for
$8,000 or perhaps $10,000. It is this consideration which makes me willing
to return to a country where my salary is insufficient for my support. If
Congress does not increase the pay of officers serving here, I should
still be willing to return, in the expectation that my private interests
would justify a measure which would otherwise be certain to impoverish me.

Something should be done here at once for the establishment of peace and
good order in the country. All law, both civil and military, is at an end.
Among the mines, and indeed in most parts of the country out of the
villages, no authority but that of the strongest exists, and outrages of
the most disgraceful nature are constantly occurring, and the offenders go
unpunished. There are now about twenty-five vessels in this port, and I
believe there is not one of them that has a crew to go to sea. Frequently
the sailors arm themselves, take the ship's boats, and leave in the most
open manner, defying both their officers and the civil magistrates. These
things are disgraceful to the country and the flag, and while vessels have
to pay port charges, duties, &c., their owners ought to be protected. The
tariff law of 1846 is now in force in California.

We have not had an American man-of-war in this port for more than a year,
and all the naval resources of the United States on this coast are
concentrated at Monterey, which is not a harbor but an open roadstead, and
which has not one-tenth of the business on its waters which is done in
this bay. During the whole year that I was collector of this port, there
was not a gun mounted for commanding the entrance of the port, and there
was not a United States man-of-war in the harbor. We were exacting a
"military contribution," and we possessed not the slightest means of
preventing vessels from leaving in defiance of our authority.

In a few months the line of ocean mail steamers will be in operation from
Panama to Oregon, and this port is to be a depot for coal, and of course a
stopping point in passing both ways. The starting of the line of steamers
on this coast is likely to be an undertaking of very great difficulty, and
at this time, such is its importance, with reference to both Oregon and
California, that its failure might be looked upon as a national calamity.
Still, unless some kind of protection is extended to the shipping of this
port, it is not at all improbable that it may fail for want of the
necessary laborers, as soon as the boats reach this harbor. Indeed, it is
altogether probable, unless some competent authority is found here at the
time to preserve order, that the crew will quit in a body as soon as the
first vessel arrives.

Every possible assistance should be extended to insure the success of this
company, and every reasonable latitude should be granted in the execution
of their contract. It is now uncertain if the steamers can enter Columbia
river at all times in the winter; and they may find it necessary to run up
to Paget's Sound. This would be a small inconvenience in comparison to the
loss of one of these vessels upon the very dangerous bar at the mouth of
the Columbia--an event not at all improbable, if they enter that river in
the winter.



*       *       *       *       *


NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENCE.

The following letters were communicated to the "Californian" newspaper,
and exhibit very graphically the state of excitement and the actual state
of things in the Gold Regions during last summer.


NEW HELVETIA, June 30, 1848.

I have just returned from Fort Sacramento, from the gold region, from
whence I write this; and in compliance with my promise, on leaving the sea
coast, I send you such items as I have gathered.

Our trip after leaving your city, by way of Pueblo, San Jose, and the San
Joaquin river, we found very agreeable. Passing over a lovely country,
with its valleys and hills covered with the richest verdure, intertwined
with flowers of every hue. The country from the San Joaquin river to this
place, is rich beyond comparison, and will admit of a dense population.

We found the fort a miniature Manchester, a young Lowell. The blacksmith's
hammer, the tinner, the carpenter, and the weaver's shuttle, plying by the
ingenuity of Indians, at which place there are several hundred in the
employ of Capt. J.A. Sutter. I was much pleased with a walk in a large and
beautiful garden attached to the fort. It contains about eight or ten
acres, laid out with great taste, under the supervision of a young Swiss.
Among the fruit trees I noticed the almond, fig, olive, pear, apple, and
peach. The grape vines are in the highest state of cultivation, and for
vegetables, I would refer you to a seedman's catalogue.

About three miles from the fort, on the east bank of the Sacramento, the
town of Suttersville is laid out. The location is one of the best in the
country, situated in the largest and most fertile district in California,
and being the depot for the extensive, gold, silver, platina, quicksilver,
and iron mines. A hotel is now building for the accomodation of the
travelling public, who are now obliged to impose on the kind hospitalities
of Capt. Sutter. A party of men who have been exploring a route to cross
the Sierra Nevada mountains, have just returned, and report that they have
found a good wagon road on the declivity ridge between the American fork
and the McCossamy rivers, the distance being much less than by the old
route. The road will pass through the gold district, and enter the valley
near the American fork.

A ferry is to be established at Suttersville, on the Sacramento, and the
road across the _tularie_ improved soon, which will shorten the
distance from this place to Sonoma and your city, about 60 miles.

After leaving the fort we passed up on the south bank of the American
fork, about twelve miles. This is a beautiful river, about three fathoms
deep the water being very cold and clear; and after leaving the river we
passed through a country rolling and timbered with oak. We soon commenced
ascending the hills at the base of the Sierra Nevada, which are thickly
set with oak and pine timber, and soon arrived at a small rivulet. One of
our party dipped up a cupful of sand from the bed of the creek, washed it,
and found five pieces of gold. This was our first attempt at gold digging.
About dark we arrived at the saw-mill of Captain Sutter, having ridden
over gold, silver, platina and iron mines, some twenty or thirty miles.
The past three days I have spent in exploring the mountains in this
district, and conversing with many men who have been at work here for some
weeks past. Should I attempt to relate to you all that I have seen, and
have been told, concerning the extent and productions of the mines, I am
fearful your readers would think me exaggerating too much, therefore I
will keep within bounds. I could fill your columns with the most
astonishing tales concerning the mines here, far excelling the Arabian
Nights, and all true to the letter.

As near as I can ascertain, there are now about 2,000 persons engaged, and
the roads leading to the mines are thronged with people and wagons. From
one to nine ounces of pure virgin gold per day is gathered by every man
who performs the requisite labor. The mountains have been explored for
about forty miles, and gold has been found in great abundance in almost
every part of them. A gentleman informed me that he had spent some time in
exploring the country, and had dug fifty-two holes with his butcher's
knife in different places, and found gold in every one.

Several extensive silver mines have been discovered, but very little
attention is paid to them now. Immense beds of iron ore, of superior
quality, yielding 85 to 90 per cent., have also been found near the
American Fork.

A grist mill is to be attached to the saw mill, for the purpose of
convenience of families and others settling at the mines. The water power
of the American Fork is equal to any upon this continent, and in a few
years large iron founderies, rolling, splitting and nail mills will be
erected.

The granite of the mountains is superior to the celebrated Quincy. A
quarry of beautiful marble has been discovered near the McCossanny river,
specimens of which you will see in a few years in the front of the Custom
House, Merchants' Exchange, City Hall, and other edifices in your
flourishing city.

P. S.-"The cry is still, they come." Two men have just arrived for
provisions from the Abjuba river, who state that they have worked five
days, and gathered $950 in gold, the largest piece weighing nearly one
ounce. They report the quantity on that river to be immense, and in much
larger pieces than that taken in other parts.


SONOMA. Aug. 5, 1848.

The mining fever is raging here, as well as elsewhere. Not a mechanic or
laboring man can be obtained in town, and most of our male citizens have
"gone up" to the Sierra Nevada, and are now enjoying "golden moments."
Spades, shovels, pick-axes, hoes, bottles, vials, snuff-boxes, brass
tubes, earthern jars, and even barrels, have been put in requisition, and
have also abruptly left town.

I have heard from one of our citizens who has been at the Gold Placer a
few weeks, and he had collected $1,500 worth of the "root of evil," and
was still averaging $100 per day. Another gent, wife and boy collected
$500 worth in one day. Another still, who shut up his hotel here some five
or six weeks since, has returned with $2,200 in pure virgin gold,
collected by his own exertions, with no other aid than a spade, pick and
Indian basket.

Three new and valuable lead mines have recently been discovered in this
vicinity, and one of our citizens, Mr. John Bowles, of Galena, Ill.--a
gent, who has been reported by the Boston press as having been murdered by
the Indians, on the Southern route to Oregon, from the States--informed me
that the ore would yield 90 per cent., and that it was his intention to
erect, as soon as practicable, six large smelting furnaces.

The Colonnade Theatre, at this place, has closed for the season; it was
well attended, however, from the time the Thespians made their debut till
they made their exit. The "Golden Farmer," the "Omnibus," and a Russian
comedy called "Feodora,' (translated from the German of Kotzebue, by Mr.
F. Linz, of Sonoma,) were their last attractions.

The military company under command of Capt. J. E. Brackett, are today
exchanging posts with Company H., under command of Captain Frisbie, both
of the New York Volunteers. Company C. has been stationed with us more
than a year, and much praise is due its members, not only for the military
and soldier-like manner in which they have acquitted themselves as a
corps, but for their gentlemanly and orderly deportment individually and
collectively. We regret to part with them, and cannot let them go without
expressing a hope that when peace shall have been declared, their regiment
disbanded, and their country no longer needs their services, they may have
fallen sufficiently in love with our healthy climate and our beautiful
valley to come back and settle.



*       *       *       *       *


GOLD.

The New York _Evening Post_ has an article upon this subject, from
which we take the following:

The places where it is found are much more numerous than we might at first
suppose. The mines of America, however, surpass those of all other
countries. Though of comparative newness, they have furnished three times
and a half more gold and twelve times more silver than those of the old
world. Silver and gold were, before the discovery of America, supposed to
bear to each other the relation of 55 to 1. In Europe the proportion is
now about 15 to 1.

The gold of Mexico is chiefly found in argentiferous veins, as at
Guanaxuato, where it is obtained one ounce in 360. The only auriferous
veins, worked as such, are at Oaxaca. The rivers in Caraccas flow over
auriferous sands. Peru is not reported rich in gold at present. The gold
of New Grenada is found in alluvial soil, and is washed out in the shape
of spangles and grains. The gold of Chili, is found under similar
circumstances. Brazil formerly brought the most gold to market, not even
excepting Russia, which now, however, surpasses her. All the rivers
running from the Brazilian mountains have gold, and the annual product of
fine metal is now rated at $5,000,000.

There are no very late tables of the products of the American mines. We
have ascertained, by accident purely, how the estimate is made at present.

From 1790 to 1830, forty years, the product of Mexico was:--

Gold     L6,436,453
Silver  139,818,032

Chili--

Gold    L2,768,488
Silver   1,822,924

Buenos Ayres--

Gold    L4,024,895
Silver  27,182,673


Add to this Russia--

Gold    L2,703,743
Silver   1,502,981


And we have from four countries alone 1880 millions of pounds sterling, or
forty-seven millions per annum.

If we add the products of Europe and Asiatic Russia, of the East Indies
and Africa, which some estimate at thirty-six tons of gold per annum, we
perceive that a vast amount of the precious metal is unearthed and
somewhere in use. The relative value of gold has certainly changed very
much within a few hundred years, and it probably will change still more.
But we do not think it is likely to depreciate one-half in our time, for
many reasons, though some persons imagine it will.

The true secret of all this present excitement is this: the Anglo Saxon
race, for the first time in their history, own and occupy gold mines of
very great value. Hitherto Africans, Asiatic or Indians, have held them,
and they have never shown that ardor combined with perseverance which
belongs to us. England never had any mines of gold, or she would have
worked them as diligently as she has those of coal. The Americans have now
a golden chance, and they are the first of their blood that have ever had
it. They will be sure to turn the opportunity to account.

At our leisure we will refer to some other interesting facts, in relation
to the value of gold at different periods. We conclude with recalling one
singular circumstance to the recollection of our readers, that when the
Romans captured Jerusalem, they obtained so much gold, that the price of
it in Syria fell one half.



*       *       *       *       *


LIEUTENANT L. LOESER, of the Third Artillery, a graduate of West Point,
furnishes the following information respecting the gold region:

"We have been favored by Lieutenant Loeser, bearer of dispatches from
Governor Mason to the government at Washington (who also brought on about
$20,000 of gold dust, which he deposited at Washington,) with a general
description of the gold region, the climate, &c., of California. He says
the gold region is very large, and there is sufficient ore to profitably
employ one hundred thousand persons for generations to come. So far as
discovered, the gold is found in an extent of country four hundred miles
long, by one hundred and fifty wide, and no particular portion seems more
productive than another. In the river and on the flatlands the gold dust
is found; but among the rocks and in the highlands it is found in lumps,
from the size of a man's hand to the size of an ordinary duck-shot, all of
which is solid, and presents the appearance of having been thrown up by a
volcanic eruption. So plenty is the gold, that little care is paid to the
washing of it by those engaged when he left; the consequence of which is
great quantities are thrown away. In the highlands he was walking with a
man who found a piece weighing about thirty-five pennyweights, worth $29,
but which he purchased for $4. The piece is solid, and has the form of a
perfect acorn on the top of it. He has had it, just as it was found,
converted into a breastpin. A man, by ordinary labor, may procure from $50
to $200 per day. With regard to the climate, he says, it is salubrious, at
no time being so cold as to require more than a light blanket to sleep
under. When he left, the people were sleeping under the trees, without the
fear of sickness from exposure. The rainy season begins about the first of
November, and continues until March, though there are five clear days for
every rainy one. Provisions are generally high, at least such as cannot be
obtained in the country. Flour is worth $80 per barrel, though a fine
bullock may be obtained for $3. Clothing is very high, and the demand is
very great. The Indians, who have heretofore used no clothing whatever,
now endeavor to imitate the whites, and will give any price for garments.
The report relative to the Mormons requiring 30 per cent. of all the gold
found, he says, is a mistake. When the gold was first discovered, one of
the leaders of that people demanded that amount from all the Mormons, but
they remonstrated, and refused to pay it, which remonstrance caused not
the slightest difficulty among the people. He was in San Francisco when
the gold was first discovered, about forty miles from that place. The news
was received one day, and the following morning, out of the whole company
to which he was attached, every one deserted except two sergeants, and
took with them all the horses belonging to the officers. In a few days the
city was almost entirely deserted, and Col. Mason, the governor of the
territory, was, and has ever since been, obliged to prepare and cook his
own food. A servant cannot be had at any price; and the soldiers have not
sufficient pay for a month to subsist on for a week. The salary of the
governor is not sufficient to support him; and, like all others in the
more wealthy circles of life, he is obliged to be his own servant. He
speaks of the country as offering the greatest inducements to young men of
enterprise, and thinks there is ample room and gold for hundreds of
thousands.



*       *       *       *       *


ADVICE TO THOSE GOING TO CALIFORNIA BY THE CAPES.

The following article, condensed from correspondence in a daily paper of
New York City, will be found to contain many valuable hints to the
California bound traveler. It came to hand too late to appear in its
proper place, where the four different routes are spoken of:

The first grand desideratum is, to secure comfort on the passage, by the
most efficient and economical means, thereby, as far as possible insuring
the arrival of the company at their destination in good health and
condition.

To insure the most perfect health and comfort attainable on so long a
voyage, a vessel should not be fitted up as our European passenger ships
are, with bunks for the passengers to sleep in, but the berth deck should
be free from bulkheads fore and aft. This arrangement would give plenty of
room for the company to swing their hammocks or cots, which could be
stowed on deck in pleasant weather, leaving the berth deck free from
encumbrance, for the company to amuse themselves with conversation or
exercise. Such an arrangement would secure a more perfect ventilation (a
very important consideration) than bunks could possibly admit of, as bunks
unavoidably harbor filth and vermin, besides leaving very little room for
the exercise so absolutely necessary in preventing the diseases incident
to a protracted voyage. Before the company proceeds on the voyage, each
member should subscribe to a code of regulations, and officers be
appointed to carry them into effect. This arrangement should be made in
order to obviate the vexation and annoyance which inevitably occur
wherever a large number of persons are promiscuously on shipboard. A
simple system, such as regularity of meals and cleansing the interior of
the ship, similar to the Navy regulations in that particular, are
indispensible and will contribute much to the pleasure, comfort, health,
and good fellowship of all on board.

The company should be composed of _practical persons_--
Agriculturists, Mechanics, and Artisans, as _nearly equal in pecuniary
condition and intelligence_ as circumstances will admit, and it would
be very important for the most useful and necessary arts to be well
represented. By such an organization, the company would be very efficient;
for by taking on board cloth, leather, iron, lumber, brick, &c. their
clothing, shoes, iron and wood work of a brick house might be made on
board. And would employ the various mechanics connected with those arts,
would tend to relieve the monotony of the ocean, and PRACTICALLY
_illustrate the benefits and many advantages_ of a true
_association_ of interests.

The agricultural implements of the most approved method, together with the
choicest varieties of young fruit trees and garden seeds, should be
provided. Instead of the usual ballast for the vessel, brick and lime, if
necessary, could be taken for that purpose, which might be used by the
company or disposed of to great advantage at San Francisco. The vessel
might be profitably employed in transporting passengers to and from the
Isthmus, with great profit to the company, of which the officers and
ship's company should be members. A _skillful surgeon_ should belong
to the association. Every member of the company should contribute all the
useful books he could, as a library on ship-board would be a constant
source of amusement and instruction.

Persons about embarking on so long a voyage should be very particular and
have their provisions carefully put up. The United States service rations
will be found to be very economical. The following is the weekly allowance
per man:--

Sunday    14 oz. bread, 11/4 lb. beef, 1/2 lb. flour.
Monday    14 oz. bread, 1 lb. pork, 1/2 pint beans.
Tuesday   14 oz. bread, 2 oz. cheese, 1 lb. beef.
Wednesday 14 oz. bread, 1 lb. pork, 1/2 pint of rice.
Thursday  14 oz. bread, 11/4 lbs. beef, 1/2 lb. flour.
Friday    14 oz. bread, 4 oz. cheese, 2 oz. butter, 1/2 pint rice, 1/2
pint molasses, 1/2 pint vinegar.
Saturday  14 oz, bread, 1 lb. pork, 1/2 pint beans, 1/2 lb. raisins.

The spirit ration is omitted.

This is sufficient for the hardest-working seaman. The flour should be
kiln dried; any baker can do it. It is only necessary to evaporate all the
moisture, and pack it in air-tight casks. Pine-apple cheese is the best
and should be put up in water-tight boxes, saturated in alcohol. Sour
crout, pickles, &c. are excellent anti-scorbutics, and should be eaten
freely. Be careful and lay in a good store of "salt water soap."

N. B. The flour should be packed in casks that have contained distilled
spirits.

A vessel bound for California by the way of Cape Horn by touching at Rio
Janeiro, Brazil and Callao, in Peru, would divide the voyage into three
periods, increasing its interest without much addition to its length of
time. Rio Janeiro has one of the most magnificent harbors on the globe,
far surpassing in natural grandeur the bay of Naples. The approach to the
stupendous mountain coast is inexpressibly grand. The entrance to the
capacious roadstead is through a narrow strait of great depth of water
unobstructed by rock or shoal, flanked on the North by the huge fortress
of Santa Cruz; on the South the "Sugar Loaf" rock proudly rears its lofty
cone near one thousand feet above the surface of the deep. The entire bay
is nearly surrounded by numerous mountain peaks of every conceivable form.

Leaving Rio we prepare to encounter the terrors of the "Horn," having
overcome its Westerly gales and "head-beat seas" debouching on the vast
Pacific, we career onward before the "trades" to Callao, the port of Lima
and capital of the Peruvian Republic. Here the refreshments peculiar to
the Tropics are plenty and of excellent quality. We ride at anchor over
the ancient City of Callao, (destroyed and sunk by an earthquake 1746,) in
sight of the lofty Andes, the mighty cones of Pichnia and Cotopaxi blazing
their volcanic fires far above the region of eternal snow, their ice-
frosted summits glittering in the sun, forming a dazzling contrast with
the clear deep azure of the tropical skies.

Waving adieu to Callao, our canvas spread to woo the "trades," we sweep
onward to Alta-California, and entering the "Golden Gate" of the
Cornucopia of the Pacific, drop our anchor in the bay of San Francisco.





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