FIFTEENTH THOUSAND. 

THEEXPLORING EXPEDITIONTO THEROCKY MOUNTAINS, OREGON AND CALIFORNIA, BY BREVET COL. J. C. FREMONT. 

TO WHICH IS ADDED A DESCRIPTION OF THEPHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY OF CALIFORNIA. 

WITH RECENT NOTICES OFTHE GOLD REGIONFROM THE LATEST AND MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES. 

1852

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PREFACE. 

No work has appeared from the American press within the past few yearsbetter 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 UnitedStates government. 

Eminently qualified for the task assigned him, Colonel Fremont enteredupon his duties with alacrity, and has embodied in the following pages theresults of his observations. The country thus explored is daily makingdeeper and more abiding impressions upon the minds of the people, andinformation is eagerly sought in regard to its natural resources, itsclimate, inhabitants, productions, and adaptation for supplying the wantsand providing the comforts for a dense population. The day is not fardistant when that territory, hitherto so little known, will be intersectedby railroads, its waters navigated, and its fertile portions peopled by anactive and intelligent population. 

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

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

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

July, 1847. 

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ADVERTISEMENT TO THE NEW EDITION. 

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

He who would know more of this rich and rare land before commencing hispilgrimage to its golden bosom, will find, in the last part of this newedition of a most deservedly popular work, a succinct yet comprehensiveaccount of its inexhaustible riches and its transcendent loveliness, and afund of much needed information in regard to the several routes which leadto its inviting borders. 

January 1849. 

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A REPORT

ON

AN EXPLORATION OF THE COUNTRYLYING BETWEEN THEMISSOURI RIVER AND THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, ON THE LINE OF THEKANSAS 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 countrybetween the frontiers of Missouri and the South Pass in the RockyMountains, and on the line of the Kansas and Great Platte rivers, I setout 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 preparationswere completed, and the expedition commenced. I proceeded in a steamboatto Chouteau's landing, about four hundred miles by water from St. Louis, and near the mouth of the Kansas river, whence we proceeded twelve milesto Mr. Cyprian Chouteau's trading-house, where we completed our finalarrangements for the expedition. 

Bad weather, which interfered with astronomical observations, delayed usseveral days in the early part of June at this post, which is on the rightbank of the Kansas river, about ten miles above the mouth, and six beyondthe western boundary of Missouri. The sky cleared off at length and wewere enabled to determine our position, in longitude 90° 25' 46", andlatitude 39° 5' 57". The elevation above the sea is about 700 feet. Ourcamp, in the mean time, presented an animated and bustling scene. All werebusily engaged in completing the necessary arrangements for our campaignin the wilderness, and profiting by this short stay on the verge ofcivilization, to provide ourselves with all the little essentials tocomfort 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 wereready to depart; but, before we mount our horses, I will give a shortdescription 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 familiarwith prairie life in the service of the fur companies in the Indiancountry. Mr. Charles Preuss, native of Germany, was my assistant in thetopographical part of the survey; L. Maxwell, of Kaskaskia, had beenengaged as hunter, and Christopher Carson (more familiarly known, for hisexploits in the mountains, as Kit Carson) was our guide. The personsengaged in St. Louis were:

Clement Lambert, J. B. L'Esperance, J. B. Lefevre, Benjamin Potra, LouisGouin, J. B. Dumes, Basil Lajeunesse, François Tessier, Benjamin Cadotte, Joseph Clement, Daniel Simonds, Leonard Benoit, Michel Morly, BaptisteBernier, Honore Ayot, François 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, ayoung 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 ofmind and body such an expedition would give. We were well armed andmounted, with the exception of eight men, who conducted as many carts, inwhich were packed our stores, with the baggage and instruments, and whichwere drawn by two mules. A few loose horses, and four oxen, which had beenadded to our stock of provisions, completed the train. We set out on themorning of the 10th, which happened to be Friday, a circumstance which ourmen did not fail to remember and recall during the hardships and vexationsof the ensuing journey. Mr. Cyprian Chouteau, to whose kindness, duringour stay at his house, we were much indebted, accompanied us several mileson our way, until we met an Indian, whom he had engaged to conduct us onthe first thirty or forty miles, where he was to consign us to the oceanof prairie, which, we were told, stretched without interruption almost tothe base of the Rocky Mountains. 

From the belt of wood which borders the Kansas, in which we had passedseveral good-looking Indian farms, we suddenly emerged on the prairies, which received us at the outset with some of their strikingcharacteristics; for here and there rode an Indian, and but a few milesdistant heavy clouds of smoke were rolling before the fire. In about tenmiles we reached the Santa Fé road, along which we continued for a shorttime, and encamped early on a small stream--having traveled about elevenmiles. During our journey, it was the customary practice to encamp an houror two before sunset, when the carts were disposed so as to form a sort ofbarricade around a circle some eighty yards in diameter. The tents werepitched, and the horses hobbled and turned loose to graze; and but a fewminutes elapsed before the cooks of the messes, of which there were four, were busily engaged in preparing the evening meal. At nightfall, thehorses, mules, and oxen were driven in and picketed, --that is, secured bya halter, of which one end was tied to a small steel-shod picket, anddriven into the ground; the halter being twenty or thirty feet long, whichenabled them to obtain a little food during the night. When we had reacheda part of the country where such a precaution became necessary, the cartsbeing regularly arranged for defending the camp, guard was mounted ateight 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 wasroused, the animals turned loose to graze, and breakfast generally overbetween six and seven o'clock, when we resumed our march, making regularlya halt at noon for one or two hours. Such was usually the order of theday, except when accident of country forced a variation; which, however, happened but rarely. We traveled the next day along the Santa Fé road, which we left in the afternoon, and encamped late in the evening on asmall 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 byothers. Several men were sent in pursuit, and returned with the fugitivesabout midnight, with the exception of one man, who did not make hisappearance until morning. He had lost his way in the darkness of thenight, and slept on the prairie. Shortly after midnight it began to rainheavily, and, as our tents were of light and thin cloth, they offered butlittle obstruction to the rain: we were all well soaked, and glad whenmorning came. We had a rainy march on the 12th, but the weather grew fineas the day advanced. We encamped in a remarkably beautiful situation onthe Kansas bluffs, which commanded a fine view of the river valley, herefrom four to five miles wide. The central portion was occupied by a broadbelt of heavy timber, and nearer the hills the prairies were of therichest verdure. One of the oxen was killed here for food. 

We reached the ford of the Kansas late in the afternoon of the 14th, wherethe river was two hundred and thirty yards wide, and commenced, immediately, preparations for crossing. I had expected to find the riverfordable; but it had swollen by the late rains, and was sweeping by withan angry current, yellow and turbid as the Missouri. Up to this point theroad 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 onehundred miles from the mouth of the Kansas river. Several mounted men ledthe way into the stream to swim across. The animals were driven in afterthem, 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 anIndia-rubber boat, which I had brought with me for the survey of thePlatte river, placed in the water. The boat was twenty feet long and fivebroad, and on it were placed the body and wheels of a cart, with the loadbelonging to it, and three men with paddles. 

The velocity of the current, and the inconvenient freight, rendering itdifficult to be managed, Basil Lajeunesse, one of our best swimmers, tookin his teeth a line attached to the boat, and swam ahead in order to reacha footing as soon as possible, and assist in drawing her over. In thismanner six passages had been successfully made, and as many carts withtheir contents, and a greater portion of the party, deposited on the leftbank; but night was drawing near, and, in our anxiety to have all overbefore the darkness closed in, I put upon the boat the remaining twocarts, with their accompanying load. The man at the helm was timid onwater, and in his alarm capsized the boat. Carts, barrels, boxes, andbales, were in a moment floating down the current; but all the men whowere on the shore jumped into the water, without stopping to think if theycould swim, and almost every thing--even heavy articles, such as guns andlead--was recovered. 

Two of the men who could not swim came nigh being drowned, and all thesugar belonging to one of the messes wasted its sweets on the muddywaters; but our heaviest loss was a large bag of coffee, which containednearly all our provision. It was a loss which none but a traveler in astrange and inhospitable country can appreciate; and often afterward, whenexcessive toil and long marching had overcome us with fatigue andweariness, we remembered and mourned over our loss in the Kansas. Carsonand Maxwell had been much in the water yesterday, and both, inconsequence, 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 thegroups who were scattered among the trees, I found one sitting on theground, among some of the men, gravely and fluently speaking French, withas much facility and as little embarrassment as any of my own party, whowere nearly all of French origin. 

On all sides was heard the strange language of his own people, wild, andharmonizing well with their appearance. I listened to him for some timewith feelings of strange curiosity and interest. He was now apparentlythirty-five years of age; and, on inquiry, I learned that he had been atSt. Louis when a boy, and there had learned the French language. From oneof the Indian women I obtained a fine cow and calf in exchange for a yokeof oxen. Several of them brought us vegetables, pumpkins, onions, beans, and lettuce. One of them brought butter, and from a half-breed near theriver, I had the good fortune to obtain some twenty or thirty pounds ofcoffee. The dense timber in which we had encamped interfered withastronomical observations, and our wet and damaged stores requiredexposure to the sun. Accordingly, the tents were struck early the nextmorning, and, leaving camp at six o'clock, we moved about seven miles upthe 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 tokeep up our map regularly in the field, which we found attended with manyadvantages. The men were kept busy in drying the provisions, painting thecart covers, and otherwise completing our equipage, until the afternoon, when powder was distributed to them, and they spent some hours in firingat a mark. We were now fairly in the Indian country, and it began to betime to prepare for the chances of the wilderness. 

17th. --The weather yesterday had not permitted us to make the observationsI was desirous to obtain here, and I therefore did not move to-day. Thepeople continued their target firing. In the steep bank of the river here, were nests of innumerable swallows, into one of which a large prairiesnake had got about half his body, and was occupied in eating the youngbirds. The old ones were flying about in great distress, darting at him, and vainly endeavoring to drive him off. A shot wounded him, and, beingkilled, he was cut open, and eighteen young swallows were found in hisbody. A sudden storm, that burst upon us in the afternoon, cleared away ina brilliant sunset, followed by a clear night, which enabled us todetermine our position in longitude 95° 38' 05", and in latitude 39° 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 inadvance of us. They consisted of men, women, and children. There weresixty-four men, and sixteen or seventeen families. They had a considerablenumber of cattle, and were transporting their household furniture inlarge, heavy wagons. I understood that there had been much sickness amongthem, and that they had lost several children. One of the party who hadlost his child, and whose wife was very ill, had left them about onehundred miles hence on the prairies; and as a hunter, who had accompaniedthem, visited our camp this evening, we availed ourselves of his return tothe States to write to our friends. 

The morning of the 18th was very unpleasant. A fine rain was falling, withcold wind from the north, and mists made the river hills look dark andgloomy. We left our camp at seven, journeying along the foot of the hillswhich border the Kansas valley, generally about three miles wide, andextremely rich. We halted for dinner, after a march of about thirteenmiles, 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, attractedby the appearance of a cluster of huts near the mouth of the Vermilion. Itwas a large but deserted Kansas village, scattered in an open wood, alongthe margin of the stream, chosen with the customary Indian fondness forbeauty of scenery. The Pawnees had attacked it in the early spring. Someof the houses were burnt, and others blackened with smoke, and weeds werealready getting possession of the cleared places. Riding up the Vermilionriver, I reached the ford in time to meet the carts, and, crossing, encamped on its western side. The weather continued cold, the thermometerbeing this evening as low as 49°; but the night was sufficiently clear forastronomical observations, which placed us in longitude 96° 04' 07", andlatitude 39° 15' 19". At sunset, the barometer was at 28. 845, thermometer64°. 

We breakfasted the next morning at half-past five, and left our encampmentearly. The morning was cool, the thermometer being at 45°. Quitting theriver bottom, the road ran along the uplands, over a rolling country, generally in view of the Kansas from eight to twelve miles distant. Manylarge boulders, of a very compact sandstone, of various shades of red, some of them of four or five tons in weight, were scattered along thehills; and many beautiful plants in flower, among which the _amorphacanescens_ was a characteristic, enlivened the green of the prairie. Atthe heads of the ravines I remarked, occasionally, thickets of _saixlongifolia_, the most common willow of the country. We travelednineteen miles and pitched our tents at evening on the head-waters of asmall creek, now nearly dry, but having in its bed several fine springs. The barometer indicated a considerable rise in the country--here aboutfourteen hundred feet above the sea--and the increased elevation appearedalready to have some slight influence upon vegetation. The night was cold, with a heavy dew; the thermometer at 10 P. M. Standing at 46°, barometer28. 483. Our position was in longitude 96° 14' 49", and latitude 39° 30'40". 

The morning of the 20th was fine, with a southerly breeze and a brightsky; and at seven o'clock we were on the march. The country to-day wasrather more broken, rising still, and covered everywhere with fragments ofsilicious limestone, particularly on the summits, where they were small, and thickly strewed as pebbles on the shore of the sea. In these exposedsituations grew but few plants; though, whenever the soil was good andprotected from the winds, in the creek bottoms and ravines, and on theslopes, they flourished abundantly; among them the _amorpha_, stillretaining its characteristic place. We crossed, at 10 A. M. The BigVermilion, which has a rich bottom of about one mile in breadth, one-thirdof which is occupied by timber. Making our usual halt at noon, after aday's march of twenty-four miles, we reached the Big Blue, and encamped onthe uplands of the western side, near a small creek, where was a finelarge 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 thehills, and at evening Carson brought us a fine deer. Longitude of the camp96° 32' 35", latitude 39° 45' 08". Thermometer at sunset 75°. A pleasantsoutherly breeze and fine morning had given place to a gale, withindications of bad weather; when, after a march of ten miles, we halted tonoon on a small creek, where the water stood in deep pools. In the bank ofthe 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 roadled along a high dry ridge; dark lines of timber indicated the heads ofstreams in the plains below; but there was no water near, and the day wasoppressive, with a hot wind, and the thermometer at 90°. Along our routethe _amorpha_ has been in very abundant but variable bloom--in someplaces bending beneath the weight of purple clusters; in others without aflower. It seemed to love best the sunny slopes, with a dark soil andsouthern exposure. Everywhere the rose is met with, and reminds us ofcultivated gardens and civilization. It is scattered over the prairies insmall bouquets, and, when glittering in the dews and waving in thepleasant breeze of the early morning, is the most beautiful of the prairieflowers. The _artemisia_, absinthe, or prairie sage, as it isvariously called, is increasing in size, and glittering like silver, asthe southern breeze turns up its leaves to the sun. All these plants havetheir insect inhabitants, variously colored--taking generally the hue ofthe flower on which they live. The _artemisia_ has its small flyaccompanying it through every change of elevation and latitude; andwherever I have seen the _asclepias tuberosa_, I have alwaysremarked, too, on the flower a large butterfly, so nearly resembling it incolor as to be distinguishable at a little distance only by the motion ofits wings. Traveling on, the fresh traces of the Oregon emigrants relievea little the loneliness of the road; and to-night, after a march oftwenty-two miles, we halted on a small creek which had been one of theirencampments. As we advanced westward, the soil appears to be getting moresandy; and the surface rock, an erratic deposite of sand and gravel, restshere on a bed of coarse yellow and gray and very friable sandstone. Evening closed over with rain and its usual attendant hordes ofmosquitoes, with which we were annoyed for the first time. 

22d. --We enjoyed at breakfast this morning a luxury, very unusual in thiscountry, in a cup of excellent coffee, with cream, from our cow. Beingmilked at night, cream was thus had in the morning. Our mid-day halt wasat Wyeth's creek, in the bed of which were numerous boulders of dark, ferruginous sandstone, mingled with others of the red sandstone alreadymentioned. Here a pack of cards, lying loose on the grass, marked anencampment of our Oregon emigrants; and it was at the close of the daywhen we made our bivouac in the midst of some well-timbered ravines nearthe Little Blue, twenty-four miles from our camp of the preceding night. Crossing the next morning a number of handsome creeks, with water clearand sandy beds we reached, at 10 A. M. , a very beautiful wooded stream, about thirty-five feet wide, called Sandy creek, and sometimes, as theOttoes frequently winter there, the Otto fork. The country has become verysandy, and the plants less varied and abundant, with the exception of the_amorpha_, which rivals the grass in quantity, though not so forwardas 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 sandybottom, _cacti_, for the first time made their appearance. We madehere a short delay in search of water; and, after a hard day's march oftwenty-eight miles, encamped, at 5 o'clock, on the Little Blue, where ourarrival made a scene of the Arabian desert. As fast as they arrived menand horses rushed into the stream, where they bathed and drank together incommon enjoyment. We were now in the range of the Pawnees, who wereaccustomed to infest this part of the country, stealing horses fromcompanies on their way to the mountains; and, when in sufficient force, openly attacking and plundering them, and subjecting them to various kindsof insult. For the first time, therefore, guard was mounted to-night. Ourroute the next morning lay up the valley, which, bordered by hills withgraceful slopes, looked uncommonly green and beautiful. The stream wasabout fifty feet wide, and three or four deep, fringed by cotton-wood andwillow, with frequent groves of oak, tenanted by flocks of turkeys. Gamehere, too, made its appearance in greater plenty. Elk were frequently seenon the hills, and now and then an antelope bounded across our path, or adeer broke from the groves. The road in the afternoon was over the upperprairies, several miles from the river, and we encamped at sunset on oneof its small tributaries, where an abundance of prele (_equisetum_)afforded fine forage to our tired animals. We had traveled thirty-onemiles. A heavy bank of black clouds in the west came on us in a stormbetween nine and ten, preceded by a violent wind. The rain fell in suchtorrents that it was difficult to breathe facing the wind; the thunderrolled incessantly, and the whole sky was tremulous with lightning--nowand then illuminated by a blinding flash, succeeded by pitchy darkness. Carson had the watch from ten to midnight, and to him had been assignedour young _compagnons de voyage_, Messrs. Brant and R. Benton. Thiswas their first night on guard, and such an introduction did not augurvery auspiciously of the pleasures of the expedition. Many thingsconspired to render their situation uncomfortable; stories of desperateand bloody Indian fights were rife in the camp; our position was badlychosen, surrounded on all sides by timbered hollows, and occupying an areaof 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 avoice in the darkness, calling out to the sergeant of the guard, to directhis attention to some imaginary alarm; but they stood it out, and tooktheir turn regularly afterwards. 

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

Mounted on a fine horse, without a saddle, and scouring bare-headed overthe prairies, Kit was one of the finest pictures of a horseman I have everseen. A short time enabled him to discover that the Indian war-party oftwenty-seven consisted of six elk, who had been gazing curiously at ourcaravan as it passed by, and were now scampering off at full speed. Thiswas our first alarm, and its excitement broke agreeably on the monotony ofthe day. At our noon halt, the men were exercised at a target; and in theevening we pitched our tents at a Pawnee encampment of last July. They hadapparently killed buffalo here, as many bones were lying about, and theframes where the hides had been stretched were yet standing. The road ofthe day had kept the valley, which is sometimes rich and well timbered, though the country generally is sandy. Mingled with the usual plants, athistle (_carduus leucographus_) had for the last day or two made itsappearance; and along the river bottom, _tradescantia_ (virginica)and milk plant (_asclepias syriaca_) [Footnote: This plant is veryodoriferous, and in Canada charms the traveler, especially when passingthrough woods in the evening. The French there eat the tender shoots inthe 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 collectthe cotton from their pods to fill their beds. On account of the silkinessof this cotton, Parkinson calls the plant Virginian silk. --_Loudon'sEncyclopædia 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 astronomicalobservations gave us a chronometric longitude of 98° 22' 12", and latitude40° 26' 50". We were moving forward at seven in the morning, and in aboutfive 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 dividingridge, and the casks were filled, and the animals here allowed a shortrepose. The road led across a high and level prairie ridge, where were butfew plants, and those principally thistle, (_carduus leucographus_, )and a kind of dwarf artemisia. Antelope were seen frequently during themorning, which was very stormy. Squalls of rain, with thunder andlightning, were around us in every direction; and while we were envelopedin 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 ofdust. 

Crossing on the way several Pawnee roads to the Arkansas, we reached, inabout twenty-one miles from our halt on the Blue, what is called the coastof the Nebraska, or Platte river. This had seemed in the distance a rangeof high and broken hills; but on a nearer approach was found to beelevations 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 borderedthe eastern side of the ridge on a breadth of about two miles. Change ofsoil and country appeared here to have produced some change in thevegetation. _Cacti_ were numerous, and all the plants of the regionappeared 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 levelbottom brought us to our encampment on the shore of the river, abouttwenty 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-eightmiles; and the geological formation of the country we had passed overconsisted of lime and sand stone, covered by the same erratic deposits ofsand and gravel which forms the surface rock of the prairies between theMissouri and Mississippi rivers. Except in some occasional limestoneboulders, I had met with no fossils. The elevation of the Platte valleyabove the sea is here about two thousand feet. The astronomicalobservations of the night placed us in longitude 98° 45' 49", latitude 40°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, Iencamped near the head of Grand Island, in longitude, by observation, 99°05' 24", latitude 40° 39' 32". The soil was here light but rich, though insome places rather sandy; and, with the exception of scattered fringealong the bank, the timber, consisting principally of poplar, (_populusmoniliefera_, ) elm, and hackberry, (_celtis crassifolia_, ) isconfined almost entirely to the islands. 

28th. --We halted to noon at an open reach of the river, which occupiesrather more than a fourth of the valley, here only about four miles broad. The camp had been disposed with the usual precaution, the horses grazingat a little distance, attended by the guard, and we were all sittingquietly at our dinner on the grass, when suddenly we heard the startlingcry, "Du monde!" In an instant, every man's weapon was in his hand, thehorses were driven in, hobbled and picketed, and horsemen were gallopingat full speed in the direction of the newcomers, screaming and yellingwith the wildest excitement. "Get ready, my lads!" said the leader of theapproaching party to his men, when our wild looking horsemen werediscovered bearing down upon them--"nous allons attraper des coups debaguette. " They proved to be a small party of fourteen, under the chargeof a man named John Lee, and, with their baggage and provisions strappedto their backs, were making their way on foot to the frontier. A briefaccount of their fortunes will give some idea of navigation in theNebraska. Sixty days since, they had left the mouth of Laramie's fork, some three hundred miles above, in barges laden with the furs of theAmerican Fur Company. They started with the annual flood, and, drawing butnine inches water, hoped to make a speedy and prosperous voyage to St. Louis; but, after a lapse of forty days, found themselves only one hundredand thirty miles from their point of departure. They came down rapidly asfar as Scott's bluffs, where their difficulties began. Sometimes they cameupon places where the water was spread over a great extent, and here theytoiled from morning until night, endeavoring to drag their boat throughthe sands, making only two or three miles in as many days. Sometimes theywould enter an arm of the river, where there appeared a fine channel, and, after descending prosperously for eight or ten miles, would come suddenlyupon dry sands, and be compelled to return, dragging their boat for daysagainst the rapid current; and at others, they came upon places where thewater lay in holes, and, getting out to float off their boat, would fallinto water up to their necks, and the next moment tumble over against asandbar. Discouraged at length, and finding the Platte growing every daymore shallow, they discharged the principal part of their cargoes onehundred and thirty miles below Fort Laramie, which they secured as well aspossible, and, leaving a few men to guard them, attempted to continuetheir voyage, laden with some light furs and their personal baggage. Afterfifteen or twenty days more struggling in the sands, during which theymade 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 daybefore we encountered them, their journey on foot to St. Louis. We laughedthen at their forlorn and vagabond appearance, and, in our turn, a monthor 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 ownprovision. They gave us the welcome intelligence that the buffalo wereabundant some two days' march in advance, and made us a present of somechoice pieces, which were a very acceptable change from our salt pork. Inthe interchange of news, and the renewal of old acquaintanceships, wefound wherewithal to fill a busy hour; then we mounted our horses and theyshouldered their packs, and we shook hands and parted. Among them, I hadfound an old companion on the northern prairie, a hardened and hardlyserved veteran of the mountains, who had been as much hacked and scarredas an old moustache of Napoleon's "old guard. " He flourished in thesobriquet of La Tulipe, and his real name I never knew. Finding that hewas going to the States only because his company was bound in thatdirection, and that he was rather more willing to return with me, I tookhim again into my service. We traveled this day but seventeen miles. 

At our evening camp, about sunset, three figures were discoveredapproaching, which our glasses made out to be Indians. They proved to beCheyennes--two men, and a boy of thirteen. About a month since, they hadleft their people on the south fork of the river, some three hundred milesto the westward, and a party of only four in number had been to the Pawneevillages on a horse-stealing excursion, from which they were returningunsuccessful. They were miserably mounted on wild horses from the Arkansasplains, and had no other weapons than bows and long spears; and had theybeen discovered by the Pawnees, could not, by any possibility, haveescaped. They were mortified by their ill-success, and said the Pawneeswere cowards, who shut up their horses in their lodges at night. I invitedthem to supper with me, and Randolph and the young Cheyenne, who had beeneyeing each other suspiciously and curiously, soon became intimatefriends. After supper we sat down on the grass, and I placed a sheet ofpaper between us, on which they traced, rudely, but with a certain degreeof relative truth, the water-courses of the country which lay between usand their villages, and of which I desired to have some information. Theircompanions, they told us, had taken a nearer route over the hills; butthey had mounted one of the summits to spy out the country, whence theyhad caught a glimpse of our party, and, confident of good treatment at thehands of the whites, hastened to join company. Latitude of the camp 40°39' 51". 

We made the next morning sixteen miles. I remarked that the ground wascovered in many places with an efflorescence of salt, and the plants werenot numerous. In the bottoms were frequently seen tradescantia, and on thedry lenches were carduus, cactus, and amorpha. A high wind during themorning had increased to a violent gale from the northwest, which made ourafternoon ride cold and unpleasant. We had the welcome sight of twobuffaloes on one of the large islands, and encamped at a clump of timberabout seven miles from our noon halt, after a day's march of twenty-twomiles. 

The air was keen the next morning at sunrise, the thermometer standing at44°, and it was sufficiently cold to make overcoats very comfortable. Afew miles brought us into the midst of the buffalo, swarming in immensenumbers over the plains, where they had left scarcely a blade of grassstanding. 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 amass of life, the traveler feels a strange emotion of grandeur. We hadheard from a distance a dull and confused murmuring, and, when we came inview of their dark masses, there was not one among us who did not feel hisheart beat quicker. It was the early part of the day, when the herds arefeeding; and everywhere they were in motion. Here and there a huge oldbull was rolling in the grass, and clouds of dust rose in the air fromvarious parts of the bands, each the scene of some obstinate fight. Indians and buffalo make the poetry and life of the prairie, and our campwas full of their exhilaration. In place of the quiet monotony of themarch, 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, whichterminated only with our departure on the following morning. At any timeof the night might be seen pieces of the most delicate and choicest meat, roasting _en appolas_, on sticks around the fire, and the guard werenever without company. With pleasant weather and no enemy to fear, anabundance 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 killedto-day. Kit Carson had shot one, and was continuing the chase in the midstof another herd, when his horse fell headlong, but sprang up and joinedthe flying band. Though considerably hurt, he had the good fortune tobreak no bones; and Maxwell, who was mounted on a fleet hunter, capturedthe runaway after a hard chase. He was on the point of shooting him, toavoid the loss of his bridle, (a handsomely mounted Spanish one, ) when hefound that his horse was able to come up with him. Animals are frequentlylost in this way; and it is necessary to keep close watch over them, inthe vicinity of the buffalo, in the midst of which they scour off to theplains, and are rarely retaken. One of our mules took a sudden freak intohis head, and joined a neighboring band to-day. As we were not in acondition to lose horses, I sent several men in pursuit, and remained incamp, in the hope of recovering him; but lost the afternoon to no purpose, as we did not see him again. Astronomical observations placed us inlongitude 100° 05' 47", latitude 40° 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, andmore broken and picturesque in the outline. The country, too, was bettertimbered. As we were riding quietly along the bank, a grand herd ofbuffalo, some seven or eight hundred in number, came crowding up from theriver, where they had been to drink, and commenced crossing the plainslowly, eating as they went. The wind was favorable; the coolness of themorning invited to exercise; the ground was apparently good, and thedistance across the prairie (two or three miles) gave us a fineopportunity to charge them before they could get among the river hills. Itwas too fine a prospect for a chase to be lost; and, halting for a fewmoments, the hunters were brought up and saddled, and Kit Carson, Maxwell, and I, started together. They were now somewhat less than half a miledistant, and we rode easily along until within about three hundred yards, when a sudden agitation, a wavering in the band, and a galloping to andfro of some which were scattered along the skirts, gave us the intimationthat we were discovered. We started together at a hand gallop, ridingsteadily abreast of each other; and here the interest of the chase becameso engrossingly intense, that we were sensible to nothing else. We werenow closing upon them rapidly, and the front of the mass was already inrapid motion for the hills, and in a few seconds the movement hadcommunicated itself to the whole herd. 

A crowd of bulls, as usual, brought up the rear, and every now and thensome of them faced about, and then dashed on after the band a shortdistance, and turned and looked again, as if more than half inclined tofight. In a few moments, however, during which we had been quickening ourpace, the rout was universal, and we were going over the ground like ahurricane. When at about thirty yards, we gave the usual shout, (thehunter's _pas de charge_, ) and broke into the herd. We entered on theside, the mass giving way in every direction in their heedless course. Many of the bulls, less active and fleet than the cows, paying noattention to the ground, and occupied solely with the hunter, wereprecipitated to the earth with great force, rolling over and over with theviolence of the shock, and hardly distinguishable in the dust. Weseparated on entering, each singling out his game. 

My horse was a trained hunter, famous in the West under the name ofProveau; 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 mealongside of her, and rising in the stirrups, I fired at the distance of ayard, the ball entering at the termination of the long hair, and passingnear the heart. She fell headlong at the report of the gun; and, checkingmy horse, I looked around for my companions. At a little distance, Kit wason the ground, engaged in tying his horse to the horns of a cow he waspreparing to cut up. Among the scattered bands, at some distance below, Icaught a glimpse of Maxwell; and while I was looking, a light wreath ofsmoke curled away from his gun, from which I was too far to hear thereport. Nearer, and between me and the hills, towards which they weredirecting their course, was the body of the herd; and, giving my horse therein, 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 ofthis I could see nothing, and the buffalo were not distinguishable untilwithin thirty feet. They crowded together more densely still as I cameupon them, and rushed along in such a compact body, that I could notobtain an entrance--the horse almost leaping upon them. In a few momentsthe mass divided to the right and left, the horns clattering with a noiseheard above every thing else, and my horse darted into the opening. Fiveor six bulls charged on us as we dashed along the line, but were left farbehind; 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 reinedup my horse, and the band swept on like a torrent, and left the placequiet and clear. Our chase had led us into dangerous ground. A prairie-dogvillage, so thickly settled that there were three or four holes in everytwenty yards square, occupied the whole bottom for nearly two miles inlength. Looking around, I saw only one of the hunters, nearly out ofsight, and the long, dark line of our caravan crawling along, three orfour miles distant. After a march of twenty-four miles, we encamped atnightfall, one mile and a half above the lower end of Brady's Island. Thebreadth of this arm of the river was eight hundred and eighty yards, andthe water nowhere two feet in depth. The island bears the name of a mankilled on this spot some years ago. His party had encamped here, three incompany, and one of the number went off to hunt, leaving Brady and hiscompanion together. These two had frequently quarreled, and on thehunter's return he found Brady dead, and was told that he had shot himselfaccidentally. He was buried here on the bank; but, as usual, the wolvestore him out, and some human bones that were lying on the ground wesupposed were his. Troops of wolves that were hanging on the skirts of thebuffalo, kept up an uninterrupted howling during the night, venturingalmost 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 peaksthree hundred to five hundred feet high. Some timber, apparently pine, grows in the ravines, and streaks of clay or sand whiten their slopes. Wecrossed, during the morning, a number of hollows, timbered principallywith box, elder, (_acer negundo_, ) poplar, and elm. Brady's Island iswell wooded, and all the river along which our road led to-day, may, ingeneral, be called tolerably well timbered. We passed near the encampmentof the Oregon emigrants, where they appeared to have reposed several days. A variety of household articles were scattered about, and they hadprobably disburdened themselves here of many things not absolutelynecessary. I had left the usual road before the mid-day halt, and in theafternoon, having sent several men in advance to reconnoitre, marcheddirectly for the mouth of the South fork. On our arrival, the horsemenwere sent in and scattered about the river to search for the best fording-places, and the carts followed immediately. The stream is here divided byan island into two channels. The southern is four hundred and fifty feetwide, having eighteen or twenty inches water in the deepest places. Withthe exception of a few dry bars, the bed of the river is generallyquicksands, in which the carts began to sink rapidly so soon as the muleshalted, so that it was necessary to keep them constantly in motion. 

The northern channel, two thousand two hundred and fifty feet wide, wassomewhat deeper, having frequently three feet water in the numerous smallchannels, with a bed of coarse gravel. The whole breadth of the Nebraska, immediately below the junction, is five thousand three hundred and fiftyfeet. 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 landimmediately at the junction of the North and South forks. Between thestreams is a low rich prairie extending from their confluence eighteenmiles westwardly to the bordering hills, where it is five and a half mileswide. It is covered with a luxuriant growth of grass, and along the banksis a slight and scattered fringe of cottonwood and willow. In the buffalo-trails and wallows, I remarked saline efflorescences, to which a rapidevaporation in the great heat of the sun probably contributes, as the soilis entirely unprotected by timber. In the vicinity of these places therewas a bluish grass, which the cattle refuse to eat, called by thevoyageurs "herbe salée, " (salt grass. ) The latitude of the junction is 41°04' 47", and longitude, by chronometer and lunar distances, 100° 49' 43". The elevation above the sea is about two thousand seven hundred feet. Thehunters came in with a fat cow; and, as we had labored hard, we enjoyedwell a supper of roasted ribs and boudins, the chef d'oeuvre of a prairiecook. Mosquitoes thronged about us this evening; but, by ten o'clock, whenthe thermometer had fallen to 47°, they had all disappeared. 

3d. --As this was to be a point in our homeward journey, I made a cache (aterm used in all this country for what is hidden in the ground) of abarrel of pork. It was impossible to conceal such a proceeding from thesharp eyes of our Cheyenne companions, and I therefore told them to go andsee what it was they were burying. They would otherwise have not failed toreturn and destroy our cache in expectation of some rich booty; but porkthey dislike and never eat. We left our camp at nine, continuing up theSouth fork, the prairie-bottom affording us a fair road; but in the longgrass we roused myriads of mosquitoes and flies, from which our horsessuffered severely. The day was smoky, with a pleasant breeze from thesouth, and the plains on the opposite side were covered with buffalo. Having traveled twenty-five miles, we encamped at six in the evening; andthe men were sent across the river for wood, as there is none here on theleft bank. Our fires were partially made of the _bois de vache_, thedry excrement of the buffalo, which, like that of the camel in the Arabiandeserts, 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 howlingand trotting about in the river until morning. 

4th. --The morning was very smoky, the sun shining dimly and red, as inthick fog. The camp was roused by a salute at daybreak, and from ourscanty 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-calfbroke through the camp, followed by a couple of wolves. In its fright, ithad probably mistaken us for a band of buffalo. The wolves were obliged tomake 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 wolfjoined in the chase, until his pursuers amounted to twenty or thirty, andthey ran him down before he could reach his friends. There were a fewbulls near the place, and one of them attacked the wolves and tried torescue him; but was driven off immediately, and the little animal fell aneasy prey, half devoured before he was dead. We watched the chase with theinterest always felt for the weak; and had there been a saddled horse athand, he would have fared better. Leaving camp, our road soon approachedthe hills, in which strata of a marl like that of the Chimney rock, hereafter described, made their appearance. It is probably of this rockthat the hills on the right bank of the Platte, a little below thejunction, are composed, and which are worked by the winds and rains intosharp peaks and cones, giving them, in contrast to the surrounding levelregion, something of a picturesque appearance. We crossed, this morning, numerous beds of the small creeks which, in the time of rains and meltingsnow, pour down from the ridge, bringing down with them, always, greatquantities of sand and gravel, which have gradually raised their beds fourto ten feet above the level of the prairie, which they cross, making eachone of them a miniature Po. Raised in this way above the surroundingprairie, without any bank, the long yellow and winding line of their bedsresembles a causeway from the hills to the river. Many spots on theprairie are yellow with sunflower, (_helianthus_. )

As we were riding slowly along this afternoon, clouds of dust in theravines, 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 reachedthe water, the prairie was darkened with the dense masses. Immediatelybefore us, when the bands first came down into the valley, stretched anunbroken line, the head of which was lost among the river hills on theopposite side; and still they poured down from the ridge on our right. From hill to hill, the prairie bottom was certainly not less than twomiles wide; and, allowing the animals to be ten feet apart, and only tenin a line, there were already eleven thousand in view. Some idea may thusbe formed of their number when they had occupied the whole plain. In ashort time they surrounded us on every side, extending for several milesin 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. Thismovement of the buffalo indicated to us the presence of Indians on theNorth fork. 

I halted earlier than usual, about forty miles from the junction, and allhands 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 largesupply of excellent preserves and rich fruit-cake; and when these wereadded to a macaroni soup, and variously prepared dishes of the choicestbuffalo-meat, crowned with a cup of coffee, and enjoyed with prairieappetite, we felt, as we sat in barbaric luxury around our smoking supperon the grass, a greater sensation of enjoyment than the Roman epicure athis perfumed feast. But most of all it seemed to please our Indianfriends, who, in the unrestrained enjoyment of the moment, demanded toknow if our "medicine-days came often. " No restraint was exercised at thehospitable board, and, to the great delight of his elders, our youngIndian lad made himself extremely drunk. 

Our encampment was within a few miles of the place where the road crossesto the North fork, and various reasons led me to divide my party at thispoint. The North fork was the principal object of my survey; but I wasdesirous to ascend the South branch, with a view of obtaining someastronomical positions, and determining the mouths of its tributaries asfar as St. Vrain's fort, estimated to be some two hundred miles farther upthe 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 pointof view, I was desirous to form some opinion of the country relative tothe establishment of posts on a line connecting the settlements with thesouth pass of the Rocky Mountains, by way of the Arkansas and the Southand Laramie forks of the Platte. Crossing the country northwestwardly fromSt. Vrain's fort, to the American Company's fort at the mouth of theLaramie, would give me some acquaintance with the affluents which head-inthe mountain between the two; I therefore determined to set out the nextmorning, accompanied by four men--Maxwell, Bernier, Ayot, and BasilLajeunesse. Our Cheyennes, whose village lay up this river, also decidedto accompany us. The party I left in charge of Clement Lambert, withorders to cross to the North fork; and at some convenient place, near tothe _Coulée des Frenes_, make a cache of every thing not absolutelynecessary to the further progress of our expedition. From this point, using the most guarded precaution in his march through the country, he wasto proceed to the American Company's fort at the mouth of the Laramie'sfork, and await my arrival, which would be prior to the 16th, as on thatand the following night would occur some occultations which I was desirousto obtain at that place. 

5th. --Before breakfast all was ready. We had one led horse in addition tothose 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. , abarometer, spy-glass, and compass. The chronometer I of course kept on myperson. I had ordered the cook to put up for us some flour, coffee, andsugar, and our rifles were to furnish the rest. One blanket, in additionto his saddle and saddle blanket, furnished the materials for each man'sbed, and every one was provided with a change of linen. All were armedwith rifles or double-barrelled guns; and, in addition to these, Maxwelland myself were furnished with excellent pistols. Thus accoutred, we tooka parting breakfast with our friends; and set forth. 

Our journey the first day afforded nothing of any interest. We shot abuffalo towards sunset, and having obtained some meat for our eveningmeal, encamped where a little timber afforded us the means of making afire. Having disposed our meat on roasting-sticks, we proceeded to unpackour bales in search of coffee and sugar, and flour for bread. With theexception of a little parched coffee, unground, we found nothing. Our cookhad neglected to put it up, or it had been somehow forgotten. Tired andhungry, with tough bull-meat without salt, (for we had not been able tokill a cow, ) and a little bitter coffee, we sat down in silence to ourmiserable fare, a very disconsolate party; for yesterday's feast was yetfresh in our memories, and this was our first brush with misfortune. Eachman took his blanket, and laid himself down silently; for the worst partof these mishaps is, that they make people ill-humored. To-day we hadtraveled about thirty-six miles. 

6th. --Finding that our present excursion would be attended withconsiderable hardship, and unwilling to expose more persons thannecessary, 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 mymost trusty men, Bernier. The ridge between the rivers is here aboutfifteen miles broad, and I expected he would probably strike the fork neartheir 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 wassandy, bordered on the northern side of the valley by a low ridge; and onthe south, after seven or eight miles, the river hills became higher. Sixmiles 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 largetrees. It was apparently very old, and had probably been the scene of somehostile encounter among the roving tribes. Its solitude formed animpressive contrast to the picture which our imaginations involuntarilydrew of the busy scene which had been enacted here. The timber appeared tohave been much more extensive formerly than now. There were but few trees, a kind of long-leaved willow, standing; and numerous trunks of large treeswere scattered about on the ground. In many similar places I had occasionto remark an apparent progressive decay in the timber. Ten miles fartherwe 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 auniform breadth of twenty-two feet and six inches in depth. A few willowson the banks strike pleasantly on the eye, by their greenness, in themidst of hot and barren sands. 

The _amorpha_ was frequent among the ravines, but the sunflower(_helianthus_) was the characteristic; and flowers of deep warmcolors seem most to love the sandy soil. The impression of the countrytraveled over to-day was one of dry and barren sands. We turned in towardsthe river at noon, and gave our horses two hours for food and rest. I hadno other thermometer than the one attached to the barometer, which stoodat 89°, the height of the column in the barometer being 26. 235 atmeridian. The sky was clear, with a high wind from the south. At 2 wecontinued our journey; the wind had moderated, and it became almostunendurably hot, and our animals suffered severely. In the course of theafternoon, the wind rose suddenly, and blew hard from the southwest, withthunder and lightning, and squalls of rain; these were blown against uswith violence by the wind; and, halting, we turned our backs to the stormuntil it blew over. Antelope were tolerably frequent, with a large grayhare; but the former were shy, and the latter hardly worth the delay ofstopping to shoot them; so, as the evening drew near, we again hadrecourse to an old bull, and encamped at sunset on an island in thePlatte. 

We ate our meat with a good relish this evening, for we were all in finehealth, and had ridden nearly all of a long summer's day, with a burningsun reflected from the sands. My companions slept rolled up in theirblankets, and the Indians lay in the grass near the fire; but my sleeping-place generally had an air of more pretension. Our rifles were tiedtogether near the muzzle, the butts resting on the ground, and a knifelaid on the rope, to cut away in case of an alarm. Over this, which made akind of frame, was thrown a large India-rubber cloth, which we used tocover our packs. This made a tent sufficiently large to receive about halfof my bed, and was a place of shelter for my instruments; and as I wascareful always to put this part against the wind, I could lie here with asensation of satisfied enjoyment, and hear the wind blow, and the rainpatter 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°, and cloudy; but a gale from the west sprang up withthe 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 astronomicalobservations, which made our position in latitude 40° 51' 17", andlongitude 103° 07' 00". 

7th. --At our camp this morning, at six o'clock, the barometer was at26. 183, thermometer 69°, and clear, with a light wind from the southwest. The past night had been squally, with high winds, and occasionally a fewdrops of rain. Our cooking did not occupy much time, and we left campearly. Nothing of interest occurred during the morning. The same drearybarrenness, except that a hard marly clay had replaced the sandy soil. Buffalo absolutely covered the plain, on both sides of the river, andwhenever we ascended the hills, scattered herds gave life to the view inevery direction. A small drove of wild horses made their appearance on thelow river bottoms, a mile or two to the left, and I sent off one of theIndians (who seemed very eager to catch one) on my led horse, a spiritedand fleet animal. The savage manoeuvred a little to get the wind of thehorses, in which he succeeded--approaching within a hundred yards withoutbeing discovered. The chase for a few minutes was interesting. My huntereasily overtook and passed the hindmost of the wild drove, which the didnot attempt to _lasso_; all his efforts being directed to capture theleader. But the strength of the horse, weakened by insufficientnourishment of grass, failed in a race, and all the drove escaped. Wehalted at noon on the bank of the river, the barometer at that time being26. 192, and thermometer 103°, with a light air from the south and clearweather. 

In the course of the afternoon, dust rising among the hills, at aparticular place, attracted our attention; and, riding up, we found a bandof eighteen or twenty buffalo bulls engaged in a desperate fight. Thoughbutting and goring were bestowed liberally, and without distinction, yettheir efforts were evidently directed against one--a huge, gaunt old bull, very lean, while his adversaries were all fat and in good order. Heappeared very weak, and had already received some wounds; and, while wewere looking on, was several times knocked down and badly hurt, and a veryfew moments would have put an end to him. Of course, we took the side ofthe weaker party, and attacked the herd; but they were so blind with rage, that they fought on, utterly regardless of our presence although on footand on horseback we were firing, in open view, within twenty yards ofthem. But this did not last long. In a very few seconds, we created acommotion 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 slowlyalong a broad ravine to the river, fighting furiously as they went. By thetime they had reached the bottom, we had pretty well dispersed them, andthe old bull hobbled off to lie down somewhere. One of his enemiesremained on the ground where we had first fired upon them, and we stoppedthere for a short time to cut from him some meat for our supper. We hadneglected to secure our horses, thinking it an unnecessary precaution intheir fatigued condition; but our mule took it into his head to start, andaway he went, followed at full speed by the pack-horse, with all thebaggage and instruments on his back. They were recovered and brought back, after a chase of a mile. Fortunately, everything was well secured, so thatnothing, not even the barometer, was in the least injured. 

The sun was getting low, and some narrow lines of timber, four or fivemiles distant, promised us a pleasant camp, where, with plenty of wood forfire, and comfortable shelter, and rich grass for our animals, we shouldfind clear cool springs, instead of the warm water of the Platte. On ourarrival, we found the bed of a stream fifty to one hundred feet wide, sunksome thirty feet below the level of the prairie, with perpendicular banks, bordered by a fringe of green cottonwood, but not a drop of water. Therewere several small forks to the stream, all in the same condition. Withthe exception of the Platte bottom, the country seemed to be of a clayformation, dry, and perfectly devoid of any moisture, and baked hard bythe sun. Turning off towards the river, we reached the bank in about amile, and were delighted to find an old tree, with thick foliage andspreading branches, where we encamped. At sunset, the barometer was at25. 950, thermometer 81°, with a strong wind from S. 20° E. , and the skypartially covered with heavy masses of cloud, which settled a littletowards the horizon by ten o'clock, leaving it sufficiently clear forastronomical observations, which placed us in latitude 40° 33' 26", andlongitude 103° 30' 37". 

8th. --The morning was very pleasant. The breeze was fresh from S. 50° E. , with few clouds; the barometer at six o'clock standing at 25. 970, and thethermometer at 70°. Since leaving the forks our route had passed over acountry alternately clay and sand, each presenting the same naked waste. On leaving camp this morning, we struck again a sandy region, in which thevegetation appeared somewhat more vigorous than that which we had observedfor the last few days; and on the opposite side of the river were sometolerably large groves of timber. 

Journeying along, we came suddenly upon a place where the ground wascovered with horses' tracks, which had been made since the rain, andindicated the immediate presence of Indians in our neighborhood. Thebuffalo, too, which the day before had been so numerous were nowhere insight--another sure indication that there were people near. Riding on, wediscovered the carcass of a buffalo recently killed--perhaps the daybefore. We scanned the horizon carefully with the glass, but no livingobject was to be seen. For the next mile or two, the ground was dottedwith buffalo carcasses, which showed that the Indians had made a surroundhere, and were in considerable force. We went on quickly and cautiously, keeping the river bottom, and carefully avoiding the hills; but we metwith no interruption, and began to grow careless again. We had alreadylost one of our horses, and here Basil's mule showed symptoms of givingout, and finally refused to advance, being what the Canadians call_reste_. He therefore dismounted, and drove her along before him; butthis was a very slow way of traveling. We had inadvertently got about halfa mile in advance, but our Cheyennes, who were generally a mile or two inthe rear, remained with him. There were some dark-looking objects amongthe hills, about two miles to the left, here low and undulating, which wehad seen for a little time, and supposed to be buffalo coming in to water;but, happening to look behind, Maxwell saw the Cheyennes whipping upfuriously, and another glance at the dark objects showed them at once tobe Indians coming up at speed. 

Had we been well mounted and disencumbered of instruments, we might haveset them at defiance; but as it was, we were fairly caught. It was toolate to rejoin our friends, and we endeavored to gain a clump of timberabout half a mile ahead; but the instruments and tired state of our horsesdid not allow us to go faster than a steady canter, and they were gainingon us fast. At first, they did not appear to be more than fifteen ortwenty in number, but group after group darted into view at the top of thehills, until all the little eminences seemed in motion; and, in a fewminutes from the time they were first discovered, two or three hundred, naked to the breechcloth, were sweeping across the prairie. In a fewhundred yards we discovered that the timber we were endeavoring to makewas on the opposite side of the river; and before we reach the bank, downcame the Indians upon us. 

I am inclined to think that in a few seconds more the leading man, andperhaps some of his companions, would have rolled in the dust; for we hadjerked the covers from our guns, and our fingers were on the triggers. Menin such cases generally act from instinct, and a charge from three hundrednaked savages is a circumstance not well calculated to promote a coolexercise of judgment. Just as he was about to fire, Maxwell recognised theleading 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 seemedto shock the savage; and, swerving his horse a little, he passed us likean 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 villageof that nation, among whom Maxwell had resided as a trader a year or twopreviously, and recognised him accordingly. We were soon in the midst ofthe band, answering as well as we could a multitude of questions; of whichthe very first was, of what tribe were our Indian companions who werecoming in the rear? They seemed disappointed to know that they wereCheyennes, for they had fully anticipated a grand dance around a Pawneescalp 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. Theyhad seen the band early in the morning from their village, and had beenmaking a large circuit, to avoid giving them the wind, when theydiscovered us. In a few minutes the women came galloping up, astride ontheir horses, and naked from their knees down and the hips up. Theyfollowed the men, to assist in cutting up and carrying off the meat. 

The wind was blowing directly across the river, and the chief requested usto halt where we were for awhile, in order to avoid raising the herd. Wetherefore unsaddled our horses, and sat down on the bank to view thescene; and our new acquaintances rode a few hundred yards lower down, andbegan crossing the river. Scores of wild-looking dogs followed, lookinglike troops of wolves, and having, in fact, but very little of the dog intheir composition. Some of them remained with us, and I checked one of themen, 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 attachedthermometer was at 108°. Our Cheyennes had learned that with the Arapahovillage were about twenty lodges of their own, including their ownfamilies; they therefore immediately commenced making their toilette. After bathing in the river, they invested themselves in some handsomecalico shirts, which I afterwards learned they had stolen from my own men, and spent some time in arranging their hair and painting themselves withsome vermilion I had given them. While they were engaged in thissatisfactory manner, one of their half-wild horses, to which the crowd ofprancing animals which had just passed had recalled the freedom of herexistence among the wild droves on the prairie, suddenly dashed into thehills at the top of her speed. She was their pack-horse, and had on herback all the worldly wealth of our poor Cheyennes, all theiraccoutrements, and all the little articles which they had picked up amongus, with some few presents I had given them. The loss which they seemed toregret most were their spears and shields, and some tobacco which they hadreceived from me. However, they bore it all with the philosophy of anIndian, and laughingly continued their toilette. They appeared, however, to be a little mortified at the thought of returning to the village insuch 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 ofPawnee 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. Farfrom being able to give, I was myself in want of horses; and anysuggestion of parting with the few I had valuable, was met with aperemptory refusal. In the mean time, the slaughter was about to commenceon the other side. So soon as they reached it, Indians separated into twobodies. One party proceeded across the prairie, towards the hills, in anextended line, while the other went up the river; and instantly as theyhad given the wind to the herd, the chase commenced. The buffalo startedfor the hills, but were intercepted and driven back towards the river, broken and running in every direction. The clouds of dust soon covered thewhole scene, preventing us from having any but an occasional view. It hada very singular appearance to us at a distance, especially when lookingwith the glass. We were too far to hear the report of the guns, or anysound; and at every instant, through the clouds of dust, which the sunmade luminous, we could see for a moment two or three buffalo dashingalong, and close behind them an Indian with his long spear, or otherweapon, and instantly again they disappeared. The apparent silence, andthe dimly seen figures flitting by with such rapidity, gave it a kind ofdreamy effect, and seemed more like a picture than a scene of real life. It had been a large herd when the _cerne_ commenced, probably threeor four hundred in number; but, though I watched them closely, I did notsee one emerge from the fatal cloud where the work of destruction wasgoing on. After remaining here about an hour, we resumed our journey inthe direction of the village. 

Gradually, as we rode on, Indian after Indian came dropping along, ladenwith meat; and by the time we had neared the lodges, the backward road wascovered with the returning horsemen. It was a pleasant contrast with thedesert road we had been traveling. Several had joined company with us, andone of the chiefs invited us to his lodge. The village consisted of aboutone hundred and twenty-five lodges, of which twenty were Cheyennes; thelatter pitched a little apart from the Arapahoes. They were disposed in ascattering manner on both sides of a broad, irregular street, about onehundred and fifty feet wide, and running along the river. As we rodealong, I remarked near some of the lodges a kind of tripod frame, formedof three slender poles of birch, scraped very clean, to which were affixedthe shield and spear, with some other weapons of a chief. All werescrupulously clean, the spear-head was burnished bright; and the shieldwhite and stainless. It reminded me of the days of feudal chivalry; andwhen, as I rode by, I yielded to the passing impulse, and touched one ofthe spotless shields with the muzzle of my gun, I almost expected a grimwarrior to start from the lodge and resent my challenge. The master of thelodge spread out a robe for me to sit upon, and the squaws set before us alarge 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 hecontinued to smoke. Gradually, however, five or six other chiefs came in, and took their seats in silence. When we had finished, our host asked anumber of questions relative to the object of our journey, of which I madeno concealment; telling him simply that I had made a visit to see thecountry, preparatory to the establishment of military posts on the way tothe mountains. Although this was information of the highest interest tothem, and by no means calculated to please them, it excited no expressionof surprise, and in no way altered the grave courtesy of their demeanor. The others listened and smoked. I remarked, that in taking the pipe forthe first time, each had turned the stem upward, with a rapid glance, asin offering to the Great Spirit, before he put it in his mouth. A stormhad been gathering for the past hour, and some pattering drops in thelodge warned us that we had some miles to our camp. An Indian had givenMaxwell a bundle of dried meat, which was very acceptable, as we hadnothing; and, springing upon our horses, we rode off at dusk in the faceof a cold shower and driving wind. We found our companions under somedensely foliaged old trees, about three miles up the river. Under one ofthem lay the trunk of a large cottonwood, to leeward of which the men hadkindled 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 ofthe South fork, _la Fourche aux Castors_, (Beaver fork, ) heading offin the ridge to the southeast. 

9th. --This morning we caught the first faint glimpse of the Rockymountains, about sixty miles distant. Though a tolerably bright day, therewas 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 whiteclouds that were floating about the sky. I was pleased to find that amongthe traders the name of "Long's peak" had been adopted and become familiarin the country. In the ravines near this place, a light brown sandstonemade its first appearance. About 8, we discerned several persons onhorseback a mile or two ahead, on the opposite side of the river. Theyturned in towards the river, and we rode down to meet them. We found themto 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 haddistinguished himself among them by some acts of daring bravery, and hadrisen to the rank of chief, but had now, for some years, left them. Theywere in search of a band of horses that had gone off from a camp somemiles above, in charge of Mr. Chabonard. Two of them continued down theriver, in search of the horses, and the American turned back with us, andwe rode on towards the camp. About eight miles from our sleeping-place, wereached 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 hundredyards broad; the water in various small streams, a few inches deep. Sevenmiles further brought us to the camp of some four or five whites, (NewEnglanders, I believe, ) who had accompanied Captain Wyeth to the Columbiariver, and were independent trappers. All had their squaws with them, andI was really surprised at the number of little fat, buffalo-fed boys thatwere tumbling about the camp, all apparently of the same age, about threeor four years old. They were encamped on a rich bottom, covered with aprofusion of rich grass, and had a large number of fine-looking horses andmules. We rested with them a few minutes, and in about two miles arrivedat Chabonard's camp, on an island in the Platte. On the heights above, wemet the first Spaniard I had seen in the country. Mr. Chabonard was in theservice of Bent and St. Vrain's company, and had left their fort someforty or fifty miles above, in the spring, with boats laden with the fursof the last year's trade. He had met the same fortune as the voyageurs onthe North fork; and, finding it impossible to proceed, had taken up hissummer's residence on this island, which he had named St. Helena. Theriver hills appeared to be composed entirely of sand, and the Platte hadlost the muddy character of its waters, and here was tolerably clear. Fromthe mouth of the South fork, I had found it occasionally broken up bysmall islands; and at the time of our journey, which was at a season ofthe year when the waters were at a favorable stage, it was not navigablefor any thing drawing six inches water. The current was very swift--thebed of the stream a coarse gravel. From the place at which we hadencountered the Arapahoes, the Platte had been tolerably well fringed withtimber, 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 ofhorses in the opposite prairie bottom; smoke was rising from the scatteredfires, and the encampment had quite a patriarchal air. Mr. C. Received ushospitably. One of the people was sent to gather mint, with the aid ofwhich he concocted very good julep; and some boiled buffalo tongue, andcoffee with the luxury of sugar, were soon set before us. The people inhis employ were generally Spaniards, and among them I saw a young Spanishwoman from Taos, whom I found to be Beckwith's wife. 

10th. --We parted with our hospitable host after breakfast the nextmorning, 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 ofthe Platte, immediately under the mountains, about seventeen miles east ofLong'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 aboutsix hundred yards wide. The stream is divided into various branches bysmall islands, among which it runs with a swift current. The bed of theriver is sand and gravel, the water very clear, and here may be called amountain-stream. This region appears to be entirely free from thelimestones and marls which give to the Lower Platte its yellow and dirtycolor. The Black hills lie between the stream and the mountains, whosesnowy peaks glitter a few miles beyond. At the fort we found Mr. St. Vrain, who received us with much kindness and hospitality. Maxwell hadspent the last two or three years between this post and the village ofTaos; and here he was at home, and among his friends. Spaniards frequentlycame over in search of employment; and several came in shortly after ourarrival. They usually obtain about six dollars a month, generally paid tothem in goods. They are very useful in a camp, in taking care of horsesand 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 Plattehere is five thousand four hundred feet above the sea. The neighboringmountains did not appear to enter far the region of perpetual snow, whichwas 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 thedistance, to descend but a few hundred feet below the summits. 

I regretted that time did not permit me to visit them; but the properobject of my survey lay among the mountains farther north; and I lookedforward to an exploration of their snowy recesses with great pleasure. Thepiney region of the mountains to the south was enveloped in smoke, and Iwas informed had been on fire for several months. Pike's peak is said tobe visible from this place, about one hundred miles to the southward; butthe smoky state of the atmosphere prevented my seeing it. The weathercontinued overcast during my stay here, so that I failed in determiningthe latitude, but obtained good observations for the time on the morningsof the 11th and 12th. An assumed latitude of 40° 22' 30" from the eveningposition of the 12th, enabled me to obtain for a tolerably correctlongitude, 105° 12' 12". 

12th. --The kindness of Mr. St. Vrain enabled me to obtain a couple ofhorses and three good mules; and, with a further addition to our party ofthe Spaniard whom I had hired, and two others, who were going to obtainservice at Laramie's fork, we resumed our journey at ten, on the morningof the 12th. We had been able to procure nothing at the post in the way ofprovision. An expected supply from Taos had not yet arrived, and a fewpounds of coffee was all that could be spared to us. In addition to thiswe had dried meat enough for the first day; on the next, we expected tofind 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 ofdestination, 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, whichresembled a garden in the splendor of fields of varied flowers, whichfilled the air with fragrance. The only timber I noticed consisted ofpoplar, birch, cottonwood, and willow. In something less than three mileswe crossed Thompson's creek, one of the affluents to the left bank of theSouth 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 andthe mountains to the left, in about ten miles from the fort, we reached_Cache à la Poudre_, where we halted to noon. This is a verybeautiful mountain-stream, about one hundred feet wide, flowing with afull swift current over a rocky bed. We halted under the shade of somecottonwoods, with which the stream is wooded scatteringly. In the upperpart of its course, it runs amid the wildest mountain scenery, and, breaking through the Black hills, falls into the Platte about ten milesbelow this place. In the course of our late journey, I had managed tobecome the possessor of a very untractable mule--a perfect vixen--and herI had turned over to my Spaniard. It occupied us about half an hour to-dayto get saddle upon her; but, once on her back, Jose could not bedismounted, realizing the accounts given of Mexican horses andhorsemanship; and we continued our route in the afternoon. 

At evening, we encamped on Crow creek, having traveled about twenty-eightmiles. None of the party were well acquainted with the country, and I hadgreat difficulty in ascertaining what were the names of the streams wecrossed between the North and South forks of the Platte. This I supposedto be Cow creek. It is what is called a salt stream, and the water standsin pools, having no continuous course. A fine-grained sandstone made itsappearance in the banks. The observations of the night placed us inlatitude 40° 42', longitude 104° 57' 49". The barometer at sunset was25. 231; attached thermometer at 66°. Sky clear, except in the east, with alight wind from the north. 

13th. --There being no wood here, we used last night the _bois devache_, which is very plentiful. At our camp this morning, thebarometer was at 25. 235; the attached thermometer 60°. A few clouds weremoving through a deep-blue sky, with a light wind from the west. After aride of twelve miles, in a northerly direction, over a plain covered withinnumerable quantities of _cacti_, we reached a small creek in whichthere was water, and where several herds of buffalo were scattered aboutamong the ravines, which always afford good pasturage. We seem now to bepassing along the base of a plateau of the Black hills, in which theformation consists of marls, some of them white and laminated; the countryto the left rising suddenly, and falling off gradually and uniformly tothe right. In five or six miles of a northeasterly course, we struck ahigh ridge, broken into conical peaks, on whose summits large boulderswere gathered in heaps. The magnetic direction of the ridge is northwestand southeast, the glittering white of its precipitous sides making itvisible for many miles to the south. It is composed of a soft earthylimestone and marls, resembling that hereafter described in theneighborhood of the Chimney rock, on the North fork of the Platte, easilyworked by the winds and rains, and sometimes moulded into very fantasticshapes. At the foot of the northern slope was the bed of a creek, someforty feet wide, coming, by frequent falls, from the bench above. It wasshut in by high, perpendicular banks, in which were strata of whitelaminated marl. Its bed was perfectly dry, and the leading feature of thewhole region is one of remarkable aridity, and perfect freedom frommoisture. In about six miles we crossed the bed of another dry creek; and, continuing our ride over high level prairie, a little before sundown wecame suddenly upon a beautiful creek, which revived us with a feeling ofdelighted surprise by the pleasant contrast of the deep verdure of itsbanks 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 ouruninterrupted march of forty miles; and an exclusive meat diet createsmuch thirst. 

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

It will be seen, by occasional remarks on the geological formation, thatthe constituents of the soil in these regions are good, and every dayserved to strengthen the impression in my mind, confirmed by subsequentobservation, that the barren appearance of the country is due almostentirely to the extreme dryness of the climate. Along our route, thecountry had seemed to increase constantly in elevation. According to theindication of the barometer, we were at our encampment 5, 440 feet abovethe sea. 

The evening was very clear, with a fresh breeze from the south, 50° east. The barometer at sunset was 24. 862, the thermometer attached showing 68°. I supposed this to be a fork of Lodge Pole creek, so far as I coulddetermine from our uncertain means of information. Astronomicalobservations gave for the camp a longitude of 104° 39' 37", and latitude41° 08' 31". 

14th. --The wind continued fresh from the same quarter in the morning; theday being clear, with the exception of a few clouds in the horizon. At ourcamp, at six o'clock, the height of the barometer was 24. 830, the attachedthermometer 61°. Our course this morning was directly north by compass, the variation being 15° or 16° easterly. A ride of four miles brought usto 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 encampmentof the past night, we reached a high bleak ridge, composed entirely of thesame earthy limestone and marl previously described. I had never seen anything which impressed so strongly on my mind a feeling of desolation. Thevalley, through which ran the waters of Horse creek, lay in view to thenorth, but too far to have any influence on the immediate view. On thepeak of the ridge where I was standing, some seven hundred feet above theriver, the wind was high and bleak; the barren and arid country seemed asif 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 weresome stunted pines, many of them dead, all wearing the same ashen hue ofdesolation. We left the place with pleasure; and, after we had descendedseveral hundred feet, halted in one of the ravines, which, at the distanceof every mile or two, cut the flanks of the ridge with little rushingstreams, wearing something of a mountain character. We had already begunto exchange the comparatively barren lands for those of a more fertilecharacter. Though the sandstone formed the broken banks of the creek, yetthey were covered with a thin grass; and the fifty or sixty feet whichformed the bottom land of the little stream were clothed with veryluxuriant grass, among which I remarked willow and cherry, (_cerasusvirginiana_, ) and a quantity of gooseberry and currant bushes occupiedthe greater part. 

The creek was three or four feet broad, and about six inches deep, with aswift current of clear water, and tolerably cool. We had struck it too lowdown to find the cold water, which we should have enjoyed nearer to itssources. At two, P. M. , the barometer was at 25·050, and the attachedthermometer 104°. A day of hot sunshine, with clouds, and moderate breezefrom the south. Continuing down the stream, in about four miles we reachedits mouth, at one of the main branches of Horse creek. Looking back uponthe 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 woodedstreams, affluents of the river that flowed so far as we could see alongits 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 mosteasterly. 

The fork on which we encamped appeared to have followed an easterlydirection up to this place; but here it makes a very sudden bend to thenorth, passing between two ranges of precipitous hills, called, as I wasinformed, Goshen's hole. There is somewhere in or near this locality aplace so called, but I am not certain that it was the place of ourencampment. Looking back upon the spot, at the distance of a few miles tothe northward, the hills appear to shut in the prairie, through which runsthe creek, with a semicircular sweep, which might very naturally be calleda hole in the bills. The geological composition of the ridge is the samewhich constitutes the rock of the Court-house and Chimney, on the Northfork, which appeared to me a continuation of this ridge. The winds andrains work this formation into a variety of singular forms. The pass intoGoshen's hole is about two miles wide, and the hill on the western sideimitates, in an extraordinary manner, a massive fortified place, with aremarkable fulness of detail. The rock is marl and earthy limestone, white, without the least appearance of vegetation, and much resemblesmasonry at a little distance; and here it sweeps around a level area twoor three hundred yards in diameter, and in the form of a half moon, terminating on either extremity in enormous bastions. Along the whole lineof the parapets appear domes and slender minarets, forty or fifty feethigh, giving it every appearance of an old fortified town. On the watersof White river, where this formation exists in great extent, it presentsappearances which excite the admiration of the solitary voyageur, and forma frequent theme of their conversation when speaking of the wonders of thecountry. Sometimes it offers the perfectly illusive appearance of a largecity, with numerous streets and magnificent buildings, among which theCanadians never fail to see their _cabaret_--and sometimes it takesthe form of a solitary house, with many large chambers, into which theydrive their horses at night, and sleep in these natural defences perfectlysecure from any attack of prowling savages. Before reaching our camp atGoshen's hole, in crossing the immense detritus at the foot of the Castlerock, we were involved amidst winding passages cut by the waters of thehill; and where, with a breadth scarcely large enough for the passage of ahorse, the walls rise thirty and forty feet perpendicularly. Thisformation supplies the discoloration of the Platte. At sunset, the heightof the mercurial column was 25. 500, the attached thermometer 80°, and windmoderate from S. 38° E. Clouds covered the sky with the rise of the moon, but I succeeded in obtaining the usual astronomical observations, whichplaced us in latitude 41° 40' 13", and longitude 104° 24' 36". 

15th. --At six this morning, the barometer was at 25. 515 the thermometer72°; the day was fine, with some clouds looking dark on the south, with afresh breeze from the same quarter. We found that in our journey acrossthe 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 wasextremely hot, and among the hills the wind seemed to have just issuedfrom 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 foundthe 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 resumedour journey, and towards the close of the day came in sight of Laramie'sfork. Issuing from the river hills, we came first in view of Fort Platte, a post belonging to Messrs. Sybille, Adams & Co. , situated immediately inthe point of land at the junction of Laramie with the Platte. Like thepost we had visited on the South fork, it was built of earth, and stillunfinished, being enclosed with walls (or rather houses) on three of thesides, and open on the fourth to the river. A few hundred yards brought usin view of the post of the American Fur Company, called Fort John, orLaramie. This was a large post having more the air of militaryconstruction than the fort at the mouth of the river. It is on the leftbank, on a rising ground some twenty-five feet above the water; and itslofty walls, whitewashed and picketed, with the large bastions at theangles, gave it quite an imposing appearance in the uncertain light ofevening. A cluster of lodges, which the language told us belonged to SiouxIndians, was pitched under the walls; and, with the fine background of theBlack hills and the prominent peak of Laramie mountain, strongly drawn inthe clear light of the western sky, where the sun had already set, thewhole formed at the moment a strikingly beautiful picture. From thecompany at St. Louis I had letters for Mr. Boudeau, the gentleman incharge of the post, by whom I was received with great hospitality and anefficient kindness, which was invaluable to me during my stay in thecountry. I found our people encamped on the bank, a short distance abovethe fort. All were well; and, in the enjoyment of a bountiful supper, which coffee and bread made luxurious to us, we soon forgot the fatiguesof the last ten days. 

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

"6th. --We crossed the plateau or highland between the two forks in aboutsix hours. I let my horse go as slow as he liked, to indemnify us both forthe previous hardship; and about noon we reached the North fork. There wasno sign that our party had passed; we rode, therefore, to some pine trees, unsaddled the hoses, and stretched our limbs on the grass, awaiting thearrival of our company. After remaining here two hours, my companionbecame impatient, mounted his horse again, and rode off down the river tosee if he could discover our people. I felt so marode yet, that it was ahorrible idea to me to bestride that saddle again; so I lay still. I knewthey could not come any other way, and then my companion, one of the bestmen of the company, would not abandon me. The sun went down--he did notcome. Uneasy I did not feel, but very hungry. I had no provisions, but Icould make a fire; and as I espied two doves in a tree, I tried to killone. But it needs a better marksman than myself to kill a little bird witha rifle. I made a fire, however, lighted my pipe--this true friend of minein 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 myfaithful companion was by my side. He had found the party, who had beendelayed by making their _cache_, about seven miles below. To the goodsupper which he brought with him I did ample justice. He had forgottensalt, and I tried the soldier's substitute in time of war, and usedgunpowder; but it answered badly--bitter enough, but no flavor of kitchensalt. I slept well; and was only disturbed by two owls, which wereattracted by the fire, and took their place in the tree under which weslept. Their music seemed as disagreeable to my companion as to myself; hefired his rifle twice, and then they let us alone. 

"7th. --At about 10 o'clock, the party arrived; and we continued ourjourney through a country which offered but little to interest thetraveler. The soil was much more sandy than in the valley below theconfluence of the forks, and the face of the country no longer presentedthe refreshing green which had hitherto characterized it. The rich grasswas now found only in dispersed spots, on low grounds, and on the bottomland of the streams. A long drought, joined to extreme heat, had soparched up the upper prairies, that they were in many places bald, orcovered only with a thin growth of yellow and poor grass. The nature ofthe soil renders it extremely susceptible to the vicissitudes of theclimate. Between the forks, and from their junction to the Black hills, the formation consists of marl and a soft earthy limestone, with graniticsandstone. Such a formation cannot give rise to a sterile soil; and, onour return in September, when the country had been watered by frequentrains, the valley of the Platte looked like a garden; so rich was theverdure of the grasses, and so luxuriant the bloom of abundant flowers. The wild sage begins to make its appearance, and timber is so scarce thatwe generally made our fires of the _bois de vache_. With theexception of now and then an isolated tree or two, standing like alighthouse 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 themonotony until about 5 o'clock, when the caravan made a sudden halt. Therewas a galloping in of scouts and horsemen from every side--a hurrying toand fro in noisy confusion; rifles were taken from their covers; bulletpouches examined: in short, there was the cry of 'Indians, ' heard again. Ihad become so much accustomed to these alarms, that they now made butlittle impression on me; and before I had time to become excited, thenewcomers were ascertained to be whites. It was a large party of tradersand trappers, conducted by Mr. Bridger, a man well known in the history ofthe country. As the sun was low, and there was a fine grass patch not farahead, they turned back and encamped for the night with us. Mr. Bridgerwas invited to supper; and, after the _table-cloth_ was removed, welistened with eager interest to an account of their adventures. What theyhad met, we would be likely to encounter; the chances which had befallenthem, would probably happen to us; and we looked upon their life as apicture of our own. He informed us that the condition of the country hadbecome exceedingly dangerous. The Sioux, who had been badly disposed, hadbroken out into open hostility, and in the preceding autumn his party hadencountered them in a severe engagement, in which a number of lives hadbeen lost on both sides. United with the Cheyenne and Gros Ventre Indians, they were scouring the upper country in war parties of great force, andwere at this time in the neighborhood of the _Red Buttes_, a famouslandmark, which was directly in our path. They had declared war upon everyliving thing that should be found westward of that point; though theirmain object was to attack a large camp of whites and Snake Indians, whohad a rendezvous in the Sweet Water valley. Availing himself of hisintimate knowledge of the country, he had reached Laramie by an unusualroute through the Black hills, and avoided coming into contact with any ofthe scattered parties. This gentleman offered his services to accompany usas 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 toenter upon such arrangements. In a camp consisting of men whose lives hadbeen spent in this country, I expected to find every one prepared foroccurrences of this nature; but, to my great surprise, I found, on thecontrary, that this news had thrown them all into the greatestconsternation; and, on every side, I heard only one exclamation, '_Iln'y aura pas de vie pour nous_. ' All the night, scattered groups wereassembled around the fires, smoking their pipes, and listening with thegreatest eagerness to exaggerated details of Indian hostilities; and inthe morning I found the camp dispirited, and agitated by a variety ofconflicting opinions. A majority of the people were strongly disposed toreturn; but Clement Lambert, with some five or six others, professed theirdetermination to follow Mr. Fremont to the uttermost limit of his journey. The others yielded to their remonstrances, and somewhat ashamed of theircowardice, concluded to advance at least as far as Laramie fork, eastwardof which they were aware no danger was to be apprehended. Notwithstandingthe confusion and excitement, we were very early on the road, as the dayswere extremely hot, and we were anxious to profit by the freshness of themorning. The soft marly formation, over which we were now journeying, frequently offers to the traveler views of remarkable and picturesquebeauty. To several of these localities, where the winds and the rain haveworked the bluffs into curious shapes, the voyageurs have given namesaccording 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_. Itlooks, at this distance of about thirty miles, like what it is called--thelong chimney of a steam factory establishment, or a shot tower inBaltimore. Nothing occurred to interrupt the quiet of the day, and weencamped on the river, after a march of twenty-four miles. Buffalo hadbecome very scarce, and but one cow had been killed, of which the meat hadbeen cut into thin slices, and hung around the carts to dry. 

"10th. --We continued along the same fine plainly beaten road, which thesmooth surface of the country afforded us, for a distance of six hundredand thirty miles, from the frontiers of Missouri to the Laramie fork. Inthe course of the day we met some whites, who were following along in thetrain 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 earthylimestone, and the weather is rapidly diminishing its height, which is notmore than two hundred feet above the river. Travelers who visited it someyears since, placed its height at upwards of 500 feet. 

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

"12th. --Nine miles from our encampment of yesterday we crossed Horsecreek, a shallow stream of clear water, about seventy yards wide, fallinginto the Platte on the right bank. It was lightly timbered, and greatquantities of drift-wood were piled up on the banks, appearing to besupplied by the creek from above. After a journey of twenty-six miles, weencamped 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, whichconstituted the formation for several days past, had changed, during theday, into a compact white or grayish-white limestone, sometimes containinghornstone; and at the place of our encampment this evening, some strata inthe river hills cropped out to the height of thirty or forty feet, consisting of fine-grained granitic sandstone; one of the strata closelyresembling gneiss. 

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

I walked up to visit our friends at the fort, which is a quadrangularstructure, built of clay, after the fashion of the Mexicans, who aregenerally employed in building them. The walls are about fifteen feethigh, surmounted with a wooden palisade, and form a portion of ranges ofhouses, which entirely surround a yard of about one hundred and thirtyfeet square. Every apartment has its door and window, --all, of course, opening on the inside. There are two entrances, opposite each other, andmidway the wall, one of which is a large and public entrance; the othersmaller and more private--a sort of postern gate. Over the great entranceis a square tower with loopholes, and, like the rest of the work, built ofearth. At two of the angles, and diagonally opposite each other, are largesquare 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 ourvisit, 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 sixteenmen. As usual, these had found wives among the Indian squaws; and, withthe usual accompaniment of children, the place had quite a populousappearance. It is hardly necessary to say, that the object of theestablishment is trade with the neighboring tribes, who, in the course ofthe year, generally make two or three visits to the fort. In addition tothis, traders, with a small outfit, are constantly kept amongst them. Thearticles of trade consist, on the one side, almost entirely of buffalorobes; 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 theprohibition, of spirits, brought into the country in the form of alcohol, and diluted with water before sold. While mentioning this fact, it is butjustice to the American Fur Company to state, that, throughout thecountry, I have always found them strenuously opposed to the introductionof spirituous liquors. But in the present state of things, when thecountry is supplied with alcohol--when a keg of it will purchase from anIndian every thing he possesses--his furs, his lodge, his horses, and evenhis wife and children--and when any vagabond who has money enough topurchase a mule can go into a village and trade against them successfully, without withdrawing entirely from the trade, it is impossible for them todiscontinue its use. In their opposition to this practice, the company issustained, not only by their obligation to the laws of the country and thewelfare of the Indians, but clearly, also, on grounds of policy; for, withheavy and expensive outfits, they contend at manifestly great disadvantageagainst the numerous independent and unlicensed traders, who enter thecountry from various avenues, from the United States and from Mexico, having no other stock in trade than some kegs of liquor, which they sellat the modest price of thirty-six dollars per gallon. The differencebetween the regular trader and the _coureur des bois_, (as the Frenchcall the itinerant or peddling traders, ) with respect to the sale ofspirits, is here, as it always has been, fixed and permanent, and growingout of the nature of their trade. The regular trader looks ahead, and hasan interest in the preservation of the Indians, and in the regular pursuitof their business, and the preservation of their arms, horses, and everything 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 ofdisabling him from doing any thing more at hunting. 

The fort had a very cool and clean appearance. The great entrance, inwhich I found the gentlemen assembled, and which was floored, and aboutfifteen feet long, made a pleasant, shaded seat, through which the breezeswept constantly; for this country is famous for high winds. In the courseof the conversation, I learned the following particulars, which willexplain the condition of the country. For several years the Cheyennes andSioux had gradually become more and more hostile to the whites, and in thelatter part of August, 1841, had had a rather severe engagement with aparty of sixty men, under the command of Mr. Frapp of St. Louis. TheIndians lost eight or ten warriors, and the whites had their leader andfour men killed. This fight took place on the waters of Snake river; andit was this party, on their return under Mr. Bridger, which had spread somuch alarm among my people. In the course of the spring, two other smallparties had been cut off by the Sioux--one on their return from the Crownation, and the other among the Black hills. The emigrants to Oregon andMr. Bridger's party met here, a few days before our arrival. Divisions andmisunderstandings had grown up among them; they were already somewhatdisheartened by the fatigue of their long and wearisome journey, and thefeet of their cattle had become so much worn as to be scarcely able totravel. In this situation, they were not likely to find encouragement inthe hostile attitude of the Indians, and the new and unexpecteddifficulties which sprang up before them. They were told that the countrywas entirely swept of grass, and that few or no buffalo were to be foundon their line of route; and, with their weakened animals, it would beimpossible for them to transport their heavy wagons over the mountains. Under these circumstances, they disposed of their wagons and cattle at theforts; selling them at the prices they had paid in the States, and takingin exchange coffee and sugar at one dollar a pound, and miserable worn-outhorses, which died before they reached the mountains. Mr. Boudeau informedme that he had purchased thirty, and the lower fort eighty head of finecattle, some of them of the Durham breed. Mr. Fitzpatrick, whose name andhigh reputation are familiar to all who interest themselves in the historyof this country, had reached Laramie in company with Mr. Bridger; and theemigrants were fortunate enough to obtain his services to guide them asfar as the British post of Fort Hall, about two hundred and fifty milesbeyond the South Pass of the mountains. They had started for this post onthe 4th of July, and immediately after their departure, a war party ofthree hundred and fifty braves set out upon their trail. As theirprincipal 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 thattheir intention was to attack the party, should a favorable opportunityoffer; or, if they were foiled in their principal object by the vigilanceof Mr. Fitzpatrick, content themselves with stealing horses and cuttingoff stragglers. These had been gone but a few days previous to ourarrival. 

The effect of the engagement with Mr. Frapp had been greatly to irritatethe hostile spirit of the savages; and immediately subsequent to thatevent, the Gross Ventre Indians had united with the Oglallahs andCheyennes, and taken the field in great force--so far as I couldascertain, to the amount of eight hundred lodges. Their object was to makean attack on a camp of Snake and Crow Indians, and a body of about onehundred whites, who had made a rendezvous somewhere in the Green rivervalley, or on the Sweet Water. After spending some time in buffalo huntingin the neighborhood of the Medicine Bow mountain, they were to cross overto the Green river waters, and return to Laramie by way of the South Passand the Sweet Water valley. According to the calculation of the Indians, Mr. Boudeau informed me they were somewhere near the head of the SweetWater. I subsequently learned that the party led by Mr. Fitzpatrick wereovertaken by their pursuers near Rock Independence, in the valley of theSweet Water; but his skill and resolution saved them from surprise; and, small as his force was; they did not venture to attack him openly. Herethey lost one of their party by an accident, and, continuing up thevalley, they came suddenly upon the large village. From these they metwith a doubtful reception. Long residence and familiar acquaintance hadgiven to Mr. Fitzpatrick great personal influence among them, and aportion of them were disposed to let him pass quietly; but by far thegreater number were inclined to hostile measures; and the chiefs spent thewhole of one night, during which they kept the little party in the midstof 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, ) atlength prevailed, and obtained for them an unmolested passage; but theysternly assured him that this path was no longer open, and that any partyof the whites which should hereafter be found upon it would meet withcertain destruction. From all that I have been able to learn, I have nodoubt that the emigrants owe their lives to Mr. Fitzpatrick. 

Thus it would appear that the country was swarming with scattered warparties; and when I heard, during the day, the various contradictory andexaggerated rumors which were incessantly repeated to them, I was notsurprised that so much alarm prevailed among my men. Carson, one of thebest and most experienced mountaineers, fully supported the opinion givenby Bridger of the dangerous state of the country, and openly expressed hisconviction that we could not escape without some sharp encounters with theIndians. In addition to this, he made his will; and among thecircumstances which were constantly occurring to increase their alarm, this was the most unfortunate; and I found that a number of my party hadbecome so much intimidated, that they had requested to be discharged atthis place. I dined to-day at Fort Platte, which has been mentioned assituated at the junction of Laramie river with the Nebraska. Here I hearda confirmation of the statements given above. The party of warriors, whichhad started a few days since on the trail of the emigrants, was expectedback in fourteen days, to join the village with which their families andthe 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 toFort Platte, urged the propriety of taking with me an interpreter and twoor three old men of the village; in which case, he thought there would belittle or no hazard in encountering any of the war parties The principaldanger was in being attacked before they should know who we were. 

They had a confused idea of the numbers and power of our people, anddreaded to bring upon themselves the military force of the United States. This gentleman, who spoke the language fluently, offered his services toaccompany me so far as the Red Buttes. He was desirous to join the largeparty 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 itwould be impossible to prevail on a Sioux to venture, on account of theirfear of the Crows. From Fort Laramie to the Red Buttes, by the ordinaryroad, is one hundred and thirty-five miles; and, though only on thethreshold of danger, it seemed better to secure the services of aninterpreter for the partial distance, than to have none at all. 

So far as frequent interruption from the Indians would allow, we occupiedourselves in making some astronomical calculations, and bringing thegeneral map to this stage of our journey; but the tent was generallyoccupied by a succession of our ceremonious visitors. Some came forpresents, and others for information of our object in coming to thecountry; now and then, one would dart up to the tent on horseback, jerkoff his trappings, and stand silently at the door, holding his horse bythe halter, signifying his desire to trade. Occasionally a savage wouldstalk in with an invitation to a feast of honor, a dog feast, anddeliberately 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, andwe took our seats on buffalo robes spread around. The dog was in a largepot over the fire, in the middle of the lodge, and immediately on ourarrival was dished up in large wooden bowls, one of which was handed toeach. The flesh appeared very glutinous, with something of the flavor andappearance of mutton. Feeling something move behind me, I looked round andfound that I had taken my seat among a litter of fat young puppies. Had Ibeen nice in such matters, the prejudices of civilization might haveinterfered with my tranquillity; but, fortunately, I am not of delicatenerves, and continued quietly to empty my platter. 

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

The morning of the 18th was cloudy and calm, the thermometer at sixo'clock at 64°. About nine, with a moderate wind from the west, a storm ofrain came on, accompanied by sharp thunder and lightning, which lastedabout an hour. During the day the expected village arrived, consistingprincipally of old men, women, and children. They had a considerablenumber of horses, and large troops of dogs. Their lodges were pitched nearthe fort, and our camp was constantly crowded with Indians of all sizes, from morning until night, at which time some of the soldiers generallycame to drive them all off to the village. My tent was the only placewhich 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, excitedawe and admiration among them; and those which I used in talking with thesun and stars they looked upon with especial reverence, as mysteriousthings 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 19thin repairing them--an operation of no small difficulty in the midst of theincessant interruptions to which I was subjected. We had the misfortune tobreak here a large thermometer, graduated to show fifths of a degree, which I used to ascertain the temperature of boiling water, and with whichI had promised myself some interesting experiments in the mountains. Wehad but one remaining, on which the graduation extended sufficiently high;and this was too small for exact observations. During our stay here, themen had been engaged in making numerous repairs, arranging pack-saddles, and otherwise preparing for the chance of a rough road and mountaintravel. All things of this nature being ready, I gathered them around mein the evening, and told them that "I had determined to proceed the nextday. They were all well armed. I had engaged the services of Mr. Bissonette as interpreter, and had taken, in the circumstances, everypossible means to ensure our safety. In the rumors we had heard, Ibelieved there was much exaggeration; that they were men accustomed tothis kind of life and to the country; and that these were the dangers ofevery-day occurrence, and to be expected in the ordinary course of theirservice. They had heard of the unsettled condition of the country beforeleaving St. Louis, and therefore could not make it a reason for breakingtheir engagements. Still, I was unwilling to take with me, on a service ofsome certain danger, men on whom I could not rely; and I had understoodthat there were among them some who were disposed to cowardice, andanxious to return; they had but to come forward at once, and state theirdesire, and they would be discharged, with the amount due to them for thetime they had served. " To their honor be it said, there was but one amongthem 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 ofthe men, and let him go. The day after our departure, he engaged himselfto one of the forts, and set off with a party to the Upper Missouri. I didnot think that the situation of the country justified me in taking ouryoung companions, Messrs. Brant and Benton, along with us. In case ofmisfortune, it would have been thought, at the least, an act of greatimprudence; and therefore, though reluctantly, I determined to leave them. Randolph had been the life of the camp, and the "_petit garçon_" wasmuch regretted by the men, to whom his buoyant spirits had afforded greatamusement. They all, however, agreed in the propriety of leaving him atthe fort, because, as they said, he might cost the lives of some of themen 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 myabsence; and I in trusted to Randolph, by way of occupation, the regularwinding up of two of my chronometers, which were among the instrumentsleft. Our observations showed that the chronometer which I retained forthe continuation of our voyage had preserved its rate in a mostsatisfactory manner. As deduced from it, the longitude of Fort Laramie is7h 01' 21", and from Lunar distance 7h 01' 29"; giving for the adoptedlongitude 104° 47' 43". Comparing the barometrical observations madeduring our stay here, with those of Dr. G. Engleman at St. Louis, we findfor the elevation of the fort above the Gulf of Mexico 4, 470 feet. Thewinter climate here is remarkably mild for the latitude; but rainy weatheris frequent, and the place is celebrated for winds, of which theprevailing one is the west. An east wind in summer, and a south wind inwinter, are said to be always accompanied with rain. 

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

"FORT PLATTE, Juillet 21, 1842. 

"Mr. Fremont:--Les chefs s'étant assemblés présentement me disent de vousavertir de ne point vous mettre en route, avant que le parti de jeunesgens, qui est en dehors, soient de retour. De plus, ils me disent qu'ilssont très-certains qu'ils feront feu à la première rencontre. Ils doiventêtre de retour dans sept à huit jours. Excusez si je vous fais cesobservations, mais il me semble qu'il est mon devoir de vous avertir dudanger. Même de plus, les chefs sont les porteurs de ce billet, qui vousdefendent de partir avant le retour des guerriers. 

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

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

[Translation. ]

"FORT PLATTE, July 21, 1842. 

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

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

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

After reading this, I mentioned its purport to my companions; and, seeingthat 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 beenkilled, and our young men, who are gone to the mountains, are eager toavenge 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 youare carrying goods and ammunition to their enemies, and will fire uponyou. You have told us that this will make war. We know that our greatfather has many soldiers and big guns, and we are anxious to have ourlives. We love the whites, and are desirous of peace. Thinking of allthese things, we have determined to keep you here until our warriorsreturn. We are glad to see you among us. Our father is rich, and weexpected that you would have brought presents to us--horses, guns, andblankets. But we are glad to see you. We look upon your coming as thelight which goes before the sun; for you will tell our great father thatyou 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 thesame effect. 

The observations of the savage appeared reasonable; but I was aware thatthey had in view only the present object of detaining me, and wereunwilling I should go further into the country. In reply, I asked them, through the interpretation of Mr. Boudeau, to select two or three of theirnumber to accompany us until we should meet their people--they shouldspread their robes in my tent, and eat at my table, and on their return Iwould give them presents in reward of their services. They declined, saying, that there were no young men left in the village, and that theywere too old to travel so many days on horseback, and preferred now tosmoke 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 tointerfere with them. In my turn I addressed them. 

"You say that you love the whites; why have you killed so many alreadythis spring? You say that you love the whites, and are full of manyexpressions of friendship to us; but you are not willing to undergo thefatigue of a few days' ride to save our lives. We do not believe what youhave said, and will not listen to you. Whatever a chief among us, tellshis soldiers to do, is done. We are the soldiers of the great chief, yourfather. He has told us to come here and see this country, and all theIndians, his children. Why should we not go? Before we came, we heard thatyou had killed his people, and ceased to be his children; but we cameamong you peaceably, holding out our hands. Now we find that the storieswe heard are not lies, and that you are no longer his friends andchildren. We have thrown away our bodies, and will not turn back. When youtold us that your young men would kill us, you did not know that ourhearts were strong, and you did not see the rifles which my young mencarry 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 menwill stay behind, and forget to return with your warriors from themountains. Do you think that our great chief will let his soldiers die, and forget to cover their graves? Before the snows melt again, hiswarriors will sweep away your villages as the fire does the prairie in theautumn. See! I have pulled down my _white houses_, and my people areready: when the sun is ten paces higher, we shall be on the march. If youhave 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. Accompaniedby our hospitable friends, we returned to the camp. We had mounted ourhorses, and our parting salutations had been exchanged, when one of thechiefs (the Bull's Tail) arrived to tell me that they had determined tosend a young man with us; and if I would point out the place of ourevening 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 theplace where I intended to encamp, and, shaking hands, in a few minutes wewere among the hills, and this last habitation of whites shut out from ourview. 

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

I was desirous to visit the Platte near the point where it leaves theBlack 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 toothin to protect ourselves and the instruments from the rains, which inthis elevated country are attended with cold and unpleasant weather, I hadprocured from the Indians at Laramie a tolerably large lodge, abouteighteen feet in diameter, and twenty feet in height. Such a lodge, whenproperly pitched, is, from its conical form, almost perfectly secureagainst the violent winds which are frequent in this region, and, with afire in the centre, is a dry and warm shelter in bad weather. By raisingthe lower part, so as to permit the breeze to pass freely, it is convertedinto a pleasant summer residence, with the extraordinary advantage ofbeing entirely free from musquitoes, one of which I never saw in an Indianlodge. While we were engaged very unskilfully in erecting this, theinterpreter, Mr. Bissonette, arrived, accompanied by the Indian and hiswife. She laughed at our awkwardness, and offered her assistance, of whichwe were frequently afterwards obliged to avail our selves, before the menacquired sufficient expertness to pitch it without difficulty. From thisplace we had a fine view of the gorge where the Platte issues from theBlack hills, changing its character abruptly from a mountain stream into ariver of the plains. Immediately around us the valley of the stream wastolerably open; and at the distance of a few miles, where the river hadcut its way through the hills, was the narrow cleft, on one side of whicha lofty precipice of bright red rock rose vertically above the low hillswhich lay between us. 

22d. --In the morning, while breakfast was being prepared, I visited thisplace with my favorite man, Basil Lajeunesse. Entering so far as there wasfooting for the mules, we dismounted, and, tying our animals, continuedour way on foot. Like the whole country, the scenery of the river hadundergone an entire change, and was in this place the most beautiful Ihave ever seen. The breadth of the stream, generally near that of itsvalley, was from two to three hundred feet, with a swift current, occasionally broken by rapids, and the water perfectly clear. On eitherside rose the red precipices, and sometimes overhanging, two and fourhundred feet in height, crowned with green summits, on which werescattered 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 onthe occasional banks, were the cherry, (_cerasus virginiana_, )currants, and grains de boeuf, (_shepherdia argentea_. ) Viewed in thesunshine of a pleasant morning, the scenery was of a most striking andromantic beauty, which arose from the picturesque disposition of theobjects, and the vivid contrast of colors. I thought with much pleasure ofour approaching descent in the canoe through such interesting places; and, in the expectation of being able at that time to give to them a fullexamination, did not now dwell so much as might have been desirable uponthe geological formations along the line of the river, where they aredeveloped with great clearness. The upper portion of the red strataconsists of very compact clay, in which are occasionally seen imbeddedlarge pebbles. Below was a stratum of compact red sandstone, changing alittle above the river into a very hard silicious limestone. There is asmall but handsome open prairie immediately below this place, on the leftbank 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 streamwhich comes in at this place is well timbered with pine, and good buildingrock is abundant. 

If it is in contemplation to keep open the communication with Oregonterritory, a show of military force in this country is absolutelynecessary; and a combination of advantages renders the neighborhood ofFort Laramie the most suitable place, on the line of the Platte, for theestablishment of a military post. It is connected with the mouth of thePlatte and the Upper Missouri by excellent roads, which are in frequentuse, and would not in any way interfere with the range of the buffalo, onwhich the neighboring Indians mainly depend for support. It would renderany posts on the Lower Platte unnecessary; the ordinary communicationbetween it and the Missouri being sufficient to control the intermediateIndians. It would operate effectually to prevent any such coalitions asare now formed among the Gros Ventres, Sioux, Cheyennes, and otherIndians, and would keep the Oregon road through the valley of the SweetWater and the South Pass of the mountains constantly open. It lies at thefoot of a broken and mountainous region, along which, by the establishmentof small posts in the neighborhood of St. Vrain's fort, on the South forkof the Platte, and Bent's fort, on the Arkansas, a line of communicationwould be formed, by good wagon-roads, with our southern military posts, which would entirely command the mountain passes, hold some of the mosttroublesome tribes in check, and protect and facilitate our intercoursewith the neighboring Spanish settlements. The valleys of the rivers onwhich they would be situated are fertile; the country, which supportsimmense herds of buffalo, is admirably adapted to grazing; and herds ofcattle might be maintained by the posts, or obtained from the Spanishcountry, which already supplies a portion of their provisions to thetrading posts mentioned above. 

Just as we were leaving the camp this morning, our Indian came up, andstated his intention of not proceeding any further until he had seen thehorse which I intended to give him. I felt strongly tempted to drive himout of the camp; but his presence appeared to give confidence to my men, and the interpreter thought it absolutely necessary. I was thereforeobliged to do what he requested, and pointed out the animal, with which heseemed 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 togain the usual road. He afterwards informed me that he had rarely everlost sight of the fort; but the effect of the mistake was to involve usfor a day or two among the hills, where, although we lost no time, weencountered an exceedingly rough road. 

To the south, along our line of march to-day, the main chain of the Blackor Laramie hills rises precipitously. Time did not permit me to visitthem; but, from comparative information, the ridge is composed of thecoarse sandstone or conglomerate hereafter described. It appears to enterthe region of clouds, which are arrested in their course, and lie inmasses along the summits. An inverted cone of black cloud (cumulus) restedduring all the forenoon on the lofty peak of Laramie mountain, which Iestimated to be about two thousand feet above the fort, or six thousandfive hundred above the sea. We halted to noon on the _Fourche Amere_, so called from being timbered principally with the _liard amere_, (aspecies of poplar, ) with which the valley of the little stream istolerably well wooded, and which, with large expansive summits, grows tothe height of sixty or seventy feet. 

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

With the change in the geological formation on leaving Fort Laramie, thewhole face of the country has entirely altered its appearance. Eastward ofthat meridian, the principal objects which strike the eye of a travelerare the absence of timber, and the immense expanse of prairie, coveredwith the verdure of rich grasses, and highly adapted for pasturage. Wherever they are not disturbed by the vicinity of man, large herds ofbuffalo give animation to this country. Westward of Laramie river, theregion is sandy, and apparently sterile; and the place of the grass isusurped by the _artemisia_ and other odoriferous plants, to whosegrowth the sandy soil and dry air of this elevated region seem highlyfavorable. 

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

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

23d. --The present year had been one of unparalleled drought, andthroughout the country the water had been almost dried up. By availingthemselves of the annual rise, the traders had invariably succeeded incarrying their furs to the Missouri; but this season, as has already beenmentioned, on both forks of the Platte they had entirely failed. Thegreater number of the springs, and many of the streams, which made haltingplaces for the _voyageurs_, had been dried up. Everywhere the soillooked parched and burnt, the scanty yellow grass crisped under the foot, and even the hardest plants were destroyed by want of moisture. I think itnecessary to mention this fact, because to the rapid evaporation in suchan elevated region, nearly five thousand feet above the sea, almost whollyunprotected by timber, should be attributed much of the sterile appearanceof the country, in the destruction of vegetation, and the numerous salineefflorescences which covered the ground. Such I afterwards found to be thecase. 

I was informed that the roving villages of Indians and travelers had nevermet with difficulty in finding abundance of grass for their horses; andnow it was after great search that we were able to find a scanty patch ofgrass sufficient to keep them from sinking; and in the course of a day ortwo they began to suffer very much. We found none to-day at noon; and, inthe course of our search on the Platte, came to a grove of cottonwood, where some Indian village had recently encamped. Boughs of the cottonwoodyet green covered the ground, which the Indians had cut down to feed theirhorses upon. It is only in the winter that recourse is had to this meansof sustaining them; and their resort to it at this time was a strikingevidence of the state of the country. We followed their example, andturned our horses into a grove of young poplars. This began to presentitself as a very serious evil, for on our animals depended altogether thefurther prosecution of our journey. 

Shortly after we had left this place, the scouts came galloping in withthe alarm of Indians. We turned in immediately towards the river, whichhere had a steep, high bank, where we formed with the carts a very closebarricade, resting on the river, within which the animals were stronglyhobbled and picketed. The guns were discharged and reloaded, and menthrown forward under cover of the bank, in the direction by which theIndians were expected. Our interpreter, who, with the Indian, had gone tomeet them, came in, in about ten minutes, accompanied by two Sioux. Theylooked sulky, and we could obtain from them only some confusedinformation. We learned that they belonged to the party which had been onthe trail of the emigrants, whom they had overtaken at Rock Independence, on the Sweet Water. Here the party had disagreed, and came nigh fightingamong themselves. One portion were desirous of attacking the whites, butthe others were opposed to it; and finally they had broken up into smallbands, and dispersed over the country. The greatest portion of them hadgone over into the territory of the Crows, and intended to return by wayof the Wind River valley, in the hope of being able to fall upon somesmall parties of Crow Indians. The remainder were returning down thePlatte, in scattered parties of ten and twenty; and those whom we hadencountered belonged to those who had advocated an attack on theemigrants. Several of the men suggested shooting them on the spot; but Ipromptly discountenanced any such proceeding. They further informed methat buffalo were very scarce, and little or no grass to be found. Therehad been no rain, and innumerable quantities of grasshoppers had destroyedthe grass. The insects had been so numerous since leaving Fort Laramie, that the ground seemed alive with them; and in walking, a little movingcloud preceded our footsteps. This was bad news. No grass, no buffalo--food for neither horse nor man. I gave them some plugs of tobacco, andthey went off, apparently well satisfied to be clear of us; for my men didnot look upon them very lovingly, and they glanced suspiciously at ourwarlike preparations, and the little ring of rifles which surrounded them. They were evidently in a bad humor, and shot one of their horses when theyhad 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 amongthe hills the _psoralea esculenta_, the bread root of the Indians. The Sioux use this root very extensively, and I have frequently met withit among them, cut into thin slices and dried. In the course of theevening we were visited by six Indians, who told us that a large party wasencamped a few miles above. Astronomical observations placed us inlongitude 104° 59' 59", and latitude 42° 29' 25". 

We made the next day twenty-two miles, and encamped on the right bank ofthe Platte, where a handsome meadow afforded tolerably good grass. Therewere 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 treesbordered the river. Buffalo made their appearance this afternoon, and thehunters came in, shortly after we had encamped, with three fine cows. Thenight was fine, and observations gave for the latitude of the camp, 42°47' 40". 

25th. --We made but thirteen miles this day, and encamped about noon in apleasant grove on the right bank. Low scaffolds were erected, upon whichthe 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 stockof provisions for ten or fifteen days. In the course of the afternoon thehunters brought in five or six cows, and all hands were kept busilyemployed in preparing the meat, to the drying of which the guard attendedduring the night. Our people had recovered their gayety, and the busyfigures around the blazing fires gave a picturesque air to the camp. Avery serious accident occurred this morning, in the breaking of one of thebarometers. These had been the object of my constant solicitude, and, as Ihad intended them principally for mountain service, I had used them asseldom as possible, taking them always down at night, and on theoccurrence of storms, in order to lessen the chances of being broken. Iwas reduced to one, a standard barometer of Troughton's construction. ThisI determined to preserve, if possible. The latitude is 42° 51' 35", and bya mean of the results from chronometer and lunar distances, the adoptedlongitude of this camp is 105° 50' 45". 

26th. --Early this morning we were again in motion. We had a stock ofprovisions for fifteen days carefully stored away in the carts, and this Iresolved should only be encroached upon when our rifles should fail toprocure us present support. I determined to reach the mountains, if itwere in any way possible. In the mean time, buffalo were plenty. In sixmiles from our encampment (which, by way of distinction, we shall callDried Meat camp) we crossed a handsome stream, called _La FourcheBoisce_. It is well timbered, and, among the flowers in bloom on itsbanks, I remarked several _asters_. 

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

By a meridian observation, the latitude of the place was 42° 50' 08". Itwas 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 furtherwe reached the mouth of Deer creek, where we encamped. Here was abundanceof rich grass, and our animals were compensated for past privations. Thisstream was at this time twenty feet broad, and well timbered withcottonwood of an uncommon size. It is the largest tributary of the Platte, between the mouth of the Sweet Water and the Laramie. Our astronomicalobservations gave for the mouth of the stream a longitude of 106° 08' 24", and latitude 42° 52' 24". 

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

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

For the satisfaction of travelers, I will endeavor to give somedescription of the nature of the road from Laramie to this point. Thenature of the soil may be inferred from its geological formation. Thelimestone at the eastern limit of this section is succeeded by limestonewithout fossils, a great variety of sandstone, consisting principally ofred sandstone and fine conglomerates. The red sandstone is argillaceous, with compact white gypsum or alabaster, very beautiful. The othersandstones are gray, yellow, and ferruginous, sometimes very coarse. Theapparent sterility of the country must therefore be sought for in othercauses than the nature of the soil. The face of the country cannot withpropriety be called hilly. It is a succession of long ridges, made by thenumerous streams which come down from the neighboring mountain range. Theridges have an undulating surface, with some such appearance as the oceanpresents in an ordinary breeze. 

The road which is now generally followed through this region is thereforea very good one, without any difficult ascents to overcome. The principalobstructions are near the river, where the transient waters of heavy rainshave made deep ravines with steep banks, which renders frequent circuitsnecessary. It will be remembered that wagons pass this road only once ortwice a year, which is by no means sufficient to break down the stubbornroots of the innumerable artemisia bushes. A partial absence of these isoften the only indication of the track; and the roughness produced bytheir roots in many places gives the road the character of one newlyopened in a wooded country. This is usually considered the worst part ofthe road east of the mountains; and, as it passes through an open prairieregion, may be much improved, so as to avoid the greater part of theinequalities it now presents. 

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

We continued our way, and four miles beyond the ford Indians werediscovered again; and I halted while a party were sent forward toascertain who they were. In a short time they returned, accompanied by anumber of Indians of the Oglallah band of Sioux. From them we receivedsome interesting information. They had formed part of the great village, which they informed us had broken up, and was on its way home. The greaterpart of the village, including the Arapahoes, Cheyennes, and Oglallahs, had crossed the Platte eight or ten miles below the mouth of the SweetWater, and were now behind the mountains to the south of us, intending toregain the Platte by way of Deer creek. They had taken this unusual routein search of grass and game. They gave us a very discouraging picture ofthe country. The great drought, and the plague of grasshoppers, had sweptit so that scarce a blade of grass was to be seen, and there was not abuffalo 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 bylodges, which they had thrown away in order to move more rapidly, and bythe carcasses of the horses which they had eaten, or which had perished bystarvation. Such was the prospect before us. 

When he had finished the interpretation of these things, Mr. Bissonetteimmediately rode up to me, and urgently advised that I should entirelyabandon the further prosecution of my exploration. "_Le meilleure avisque je pourrais vous donner c'est de virer de suite_. " "The best adviceI can give you, is to turn back at once. " It was his own intention toreturn, as we had now reached the point to which he had engaged to attendme. In reply, I called up my men, and communicated to them fully theinformation I had just received. I then expressed to them my fixeddetermination to proceed to the end of the enterprise on which I had beensent; but as the situation of the country gave me some reason to apprehendthat it might be attended with an unfortunate result to some of us, Iwould 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 tendays' provisions; and should no game be found, when this stock wasexpended, we had our horses and mules, which we could eat when other meansof subsistence failed. But not a man flinched from the undertaking. "We'lleat the mules, " said Basil Lajeunesse; and thereupon we shook hands withour interpreter and his Indians, and parted. With them I sent back one ofmy men, Dumes, whom the effects of an old wound in the leg renderedincapable of continuing the journey on foot, and his horse seemed on thepoint of giving out. Having resolved to disencumber ourselves immediatelyof every thing not absolutely necessary to our future operations, I turneddirectly in towards the river, and encamped on the left bank, a littleabove the place where our council had been held, and where a thick groveof 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, andconcealed in the dense foliage in such a manner that the glitter of theiron-work might not attract the observation of some straggling Indian. Inthe sand, which had been blown up into waves among the willows, a largehole 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 wasdesigned to be carried along with us separated and laid aside, and theremaining part carried to the hole and carefully covered up. As much aspossible, all traces of our proceedings were obliterated, and it wantedbut a rain to render our _cache_ safe beyond discovery. All the menwere 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 cloudshad congregated in masses. Our lodge had been planted, and, on account ofthe heat, the ground-pins had been taken out, and the lower part slightlyraised. Near to it was standing the barometer, which swung in a tripodframe; and within the lodge, where a small fire had been built, Mr. Preusswas occupied in observing temperature of boiling water. At this instant, and without any warning until it was within fifty yards, a violent gust ofwind dashed down the lodge, burying under it Mr. Preuss and about a dozenmen, who had attempted to keep it from being carried away. I succeeded insaving the barometer, which the lodge was carrying off with itself, butthe thermometer was broken. We had no others of a high graduation, none ofthose which remained going higher than 135° Fahrenheit. Our astronomicalobservations gave to this place, which we named _Cache_ camp, alongitude of 106° 38' 26", latitude 42° 50' 53". 

29th. --All our arrangements having been completed, we left the encampmentat 7 o'clock this morning. In this vicinity the ordinary road leaves thePlatte, and crosses over to the Sweet Water river, which it strikes nearRock Independence. Instead of following this road, I had determined tokeep the immediate valley of the Platte so far as the mouth of the SweetWater, in the expectation of finding better grass. To this I was furtherprompted by the nature of my instructions. To Mr. Carson was assigned theoffice 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 fewmiles we reached the Red Buttes, a famous landmark in this country, whosegeological composition is red sandstone, limestone, and calcareoussandstone and pudding-stone. 

The river here cuts its way through a ridge; on the eastern side of it arethe lofty escarpments of red argillaceous sandstone, which are called theRed 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 huntersfailed 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 upthe steep face of the ridge. It is sometimes wonderful to see theseapparently clumsy animals make their way up and down the most brokenprecipices. We halted to noon before we had cleared this passage, at aspot twelve miles distant from _Cache_ camp, where we found anabundance of grass. So far, the account of the Indians was found to befalse. On the banks were willow and cherry trees. The cherries were notyet ripe, but in the thickets were numerous fresh tracks of the grizzlybear, which are very fond of this fruit. The soil here is red, thecomposition being derived from the red sandstone. About seven milesbrought us through the ridge, in which the course of the river is northand south. Here the valley opens out broadly, and high walls of the redformation present themselves among the hills to the east. We crossed herea pretty little creek, an affluent of the right bank. It is well timberedwith cottonwood in this vicinity, and the absinthe has lost its shrub-likecharacter, and becomes small trees six and eight feet in height, andsometimes eight inches in diameter. Two or three miles above this creek wemade our encampment, having traveled to-day twenty-five miles. Our animalsfared well here, as there is an abundance of grass. The river bed is madeup of pebbles, and in the bank, at the level of the water, is aconglomerate of coarse pebbles, about the size of ostrich eggs, and whichI remarked in the banks of the Laramie fork. It is overlaid by a soil ofmixed clay and sand, six feet thick. By astronomical observations, ourposition is in longitude 106° 54' 32", and latitude 42° 38'. 

30th. --After traveling about twelve miles this morning, we reached a placewhere the Indian village had crossed the river. Here were the poles ofdiscarded lodges and skeletons of horses lying about. Mr. Carson, who hadnever been higher up than this point on the river, which has the characterof being exceedingly rugged, and walled in by precipices above, thought itadvisable to encamp near this place, where we were certain of obtaininggrass, and to-morrow make our crossing among the rugged hills to the SweetWater river. Accordingly we turned back and descended the river to anisland near by, which was about twenty acres in size, covered with aluxuriant 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 threeor four hundred feet high, and alternated with green level_prairillons_ or meadows, bordered on the river banks with thicketsof willow, and having many plants to interest the traveler. The islandlies between two of these ridges, three or four hundred yards apart, ofwhich that on the right bank is composed entirely of red argillaceoussandstone, with thin layers of fibrous gypsum. On the left bank, the ridgeis composed entirely of silicious pudding-stone, the pebbles in thenumerous strata increasing in size from the top to the bottom, where theyare as large as a man's head. So far as I was able to determine, thesestrata incline to the northeast, with a dip of about 15°. This pudding-stone, or conglomerate formation, I was enabled to trace through anextended range of country, from a few miles east of the meridian of FortLaramie to where I found it superposed on the granite of the Rockymountains, in longitude 109° 00'. From its appearance, the main chain ofthe Laramie mountain is composed of this rock; and in a number of places Ifound isolated hills, which served to mark a former level which had beenprobably swept away. 

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

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

We saw here numerous herds of mountain sheep, and frequently heard thevolley of rattling stones which accompanied their rapid descent down thesteep hills. This was the first place at which we had killed any of theseanimals; and, in consequence of this circumstance, and of the abundance ofthese sheep or goats, (for they are called by each name, ) we gave ourencampment the name of Goat Island. Their flesh is much esteemed by thehunters, and has very much the flavor of Alleghany mountain sheep. I havefrequently seen the horns of this animal three feet long and seventeeninches in circumference at the base, weighing eleven pounds. But two orthree of these were killed by our party at this place, and of these thehorns were small. The use of these horns seems to be to protect theanimal's head in pitching down precipices to avoid pursuing wolves--theironly safety being in places where they cannot be followed. The bones arevery strong and solid, the marrow occupying but a very small portion ofthe bone in the leg, about the thickness of a rye straw. The hair isshort, resembling the winter color of our common deer, which it nearlyapproaches in size and appearance. Except in the horns, it has noresemblance whatever to the goat. The longitude of this place, resultingfrom chronometer and lunar distances, and an occultation of Arietis, is107° 13' 29", and the latitude 42° 33' 27". One of our horses, which hadgiven out, we left to receive strength on the island, intending to takeher, perhaps, on our return. 

31st. --This morning we left the course of the Platte, to cross over to theSweet Water. Our way, for a few miles, lay up the sandy bed of a drycreek, in which I found several interesting plants. Leaving this, wewended our way to the summit of the hills, of which the peaks are hereeight hundred feet above the Platte, bare and rocky. A long and gradualslope led from these hills to the Sweet Water, which we reached in fifteenmiles from Goat Island. I made an early encampment here, in order to givethe hunters an opportunity to procure a supply from several bands ofbuffalo, which made their appearance in the valley near by. The stream isabout 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 goodsoil, which afforded an abundance of soft green grass to our horses, andwhere I found a variety of interesting plants, which made their appearancefor the first time. A rain to-night made it unpleasantly cold; and therewas no tree here, to enable us to pitch our single tent, the poles ofwhich had been left at our _Cache camp_. We had, therefore, noshelter except what was to be found under cover of the _absinthe_bushes, which grew in many thick patches, one or two and sometimes threefeet high. 

AUGUST. 

1st. --The hunters went ahead this morning, as buffalo appeared tolerablyabundant, and I was desirous to secure a small stock of provisions; and wemoved about seven mules up the valley, and encamped one mile below RockIndependence. This is an isolated granite rock, about six hundred andfifty yards long, and forty in height. Except in a depression of thesummit, where a little soil supports a scanty growth of shrubs, with asolitary dwarf pine, it is entirely bare. Everywhere within six or eightfeet of the ground, where the surface is sufficiently smooth, and in someplaces sixty or eighty feet above, the rock is inscribed with the names oftravelers. Many a name famous in the history of this country, and somewell known to science, are to be found mixed among those of the tradersand travelers for pleasure and curiosity, and of missionaries among thesavages. Some of these have been washed away by the rain, but the greaternumber are still very legible. The position of this rock is in longitude107° 56', latitude 42° 29' 36". We remained at our camp of August 1stuntil noon of the next day, occupied in drying meat. By observation, thelongitude of the place is 107° 25' 23", latitude 42° 29' 56". 

2d. --Five miles above Rock Independence we came to a place called theDevil's Gate, where the Sweet Water cuts through the point of a graniteridge. The length of the passage is about three hundred yards, and thewidth thirty-five yards. The walls of rock are vertical, and about fourhundred feet in height; and the stream in the gate is almost entirelychoked up by masses which have fallen from above. In the wall, on theright bank, is a dike of trap-rock, cutting through a fine-grained graygranite. Near the point of this ridge crop out some strata of the valleyformation, consisting of a grayish micaceous sandstone, and fine-grainedconglomerate, 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 ofdrift wood, aided by the _bois de vache_. 

We had to-night no shelter from the rain, which commenced with squalls ofwind about sunset. The country here is exceedingly picturesque. On eitherside of the valley, which is five miles broad, the mountains rise to theheight of twelve and fifteen hundred or two thousand feet. On the southside, the range appears to be timbered, and to-night is luminous withfires--probably the work of the Indians, who have just passed through thevalley. On the north, broken and granite masses rise abruptly from thegreen sward of the river, terminating in a line of broken summits. Exceptin the crevices of the rock, and here and there on a ledge or bench of themountain, where a few hardy pines have clustered together, these areperfectly 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 thesemountains for thirty-six miles. Everywhere its deep verdure and profusionof beautiful flowers is in pleasing contrast with the sterile grandeur ofthe rock and the barrenness of the sandy plain, which, from the right bankof the river, sweeps up to the mountain range that forms its southernboundary. The great evaporation on the sandy soil of this elevated plain, and the saline efflorescences which whiten the ground, and shine likelakes reflecting in the sun, make a soil wholly unfit for cultivation. 

3d. --We were early on the road the next morning, traveling along the upperpart of the valley, which is overgrown with _artemisia_. Scatteredabout on the plain are occasional small isolated hills. One of these whichI have examined, about fifty feet high, consisted of white clay and marl, in nearly horizontal strata. Several bands of buffalo made theirappearance to-day, with herds of antelope; and a grizzly bear--the onlyone we encountered during the journey--was seen scrambling up among therocks. As we passed over a slight rise near the river, we caught the firstview of the Wind River mountains, appearing, at this distance of aboutseventy miles, to be a low and dark mountainous ridge. The view dissipatedin a moment the pictures which had been created in our minds, by manydescriptions of travelers, who have compared these mountains to the Alpsin Switzerland, and speak of the glittering peaks which rise in icymajesty amidst the eternal glaciers nine or ten thousand feet into theregion of eternal snows. The nakedness of the river was relieved by grovesof 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 asa 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; andduring the night a dog came into the camp. 

4th. --Our camp was at the foot of the granite mountains, which we climbedthis morning to take some barometrical heights; and here among the rockswas seen the first magpie. On our return, we saw one at the mouth of thePlatte river. We left here one of our horses, which was unable to proceedfarther. A few miles from the encampment we left the river, which makes abend to the south, and traversing an undulating country, consisting of agrayish micaceous sandstone and fine-grained conglomerates, struck itagain, and encamped after a journey of twenty-five miles. Astronomicalobservations placed us in latitude 42° 32' 30", and longitude 108° 30'13". 

5th. --The morning was dark, with a driving rain, and disagreeably cold. Wecontinued our route as usual and the weather became so bad, that we wereglad to avail ourselves of the shelter offered by a small island, aboutten miles above our last encampment, which was covered with a dense growthof willows. There was fine grass for our animals, and the timber affordedus comfortable protection and good fires. In the afternoon, the sun brokethrough the clouds for a short time, and the barometer at 5 P. M. Was23. 713, the thermometer 60°, with the wind strong from the northwest. Weavailed ourselves of the fine weather to make excursions in theneighborhood. The river, at this place, is bordered by hills of the valleyformation. They are of moderate height; one of the highest peaks on theright bank being, according to the barometer, one hundred and eighty feetabove the river. On the left bank they are higher. They consist of a finewhite clayey sandstone, a white calcareous sandstone, and coarse sandstoneor pudding-stone. 

6th. --It continued steadily raining all day; but, notwithstanding, we leftour encampment in the afternoon. Our animals had been much refreshed bytheir repose, and an abundance of rich, soft grass, which had been muchimproved by the rains. In about three miles, we reached the entrance of a_kanyon_, where the Sweet Water issues upon the more open valley wehad passed over. Immediately at the entrance, and superimposed directlyupon the granite, are strata of compact calcareous sandstone and chert, alternating with fine white and reddish-white, and fine gray and redsandstones. These strata dip to the eastward at an angle of about 18°, andform the western limit of the sandstone and limestone formations on theline of our route. Here we entered among the primitive rocks. The usualroad 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 werethe character of this scenery. The river had been swollen by the laterains, and came rushing through with an impetuous current, three or fourfeet deep, and generally twenty yards broad. The valley was sometimes thebreadth of the stream, and sometimes opened into little green meadows, sixty yards wide, with open groves of aspen. The stream was borderedthroughout with aspen, beech, and willow; and tall pines grow on the sidesand summits of the crags. On both sides the granite rocks roseprecipitously to the height of three hundred and five hundred feet, terminating in jagged and broken pointed peaks; and fragments of fallenrock lay piled up at the foot of the precipices. Gneiss, mica slate, and awhite granite, were among the varieties I noticed. Here were many oldtraces of beaver on the stream; remnants of dams, near which were lyingtrees, which they had cut down, one and two feet in diameter. The hillsentirely shut up the river at the end of about five miles, and we turnedup a ravine that led to a high prairie, which seemed to be the generallevel of the country. Hence, to the summit of the ridge, there is aregular and very gradual rise. Blocks of granite were piled up at theheads of the ravines, and small bare knolls of mica slate and milky quartzprotruded at frequent intervals on the prairie, which was whitened inoccasional spots with small salt lakes, where the water had evaporated, and left the bed covered with a shining incrustation of salt. The eveningwas very cold, a northwest wind driving a fine rain in our faces; and atnightfall we descended to a little stream, on which we encamped, about twomiles from the Sweet Water. Here had recently been a very large camp ofthe Snake and Crow Indians; and some large poles lying about afforded themeans of pitching a tent, and making other places of shelter. Our firesto-night were made principally of the dry branches of the artemisia, whichcovered the slopes. It burns quickly, and with a clear oily flame, andmakes 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 bedof the creek, the _snow_ line of the mountains stretched graduallybefore us, the white peaks glittering in the sun. They had been hidden inthe dark weather of the last few days, and it had been _snowing_ onthem, while it _rained_ in the plains. We crossed a ridge, and againstruck the Sweet Water--here a beautiful, swift stream, with a more openvalley, timbered with beech and cottonwood. It now began to lose itself inthe many small forks which make its head; and we continued up the mainstream until near noon, when we left it a few miles, to make our noon halton a small creek among the hills, from which the stream issues by a smallopening. Within was a beautiful grassy spot, covered with an open grove oflarge beech-trees, among which I found several plants that I had notpreviously seen. 

The afternoon was cloudy, with squalls of rain; but the weather becamefine at sunset, when we again encamped on the Sweet Water, within a fewmiles of the SOUTH PASS. The country over which we have passed to-dayconsists principally of the compact mica slate, which crops out on allridges, making the uplands very rocky and slaty. In the escarpments whichborder the creeks, it is seen alternating with a light-colored granite, atan inclination of 45°; the beds varying in thickness from two or threefeet to six or eight hundred. At a distance, the granite frequently hasthe appearance of irregular lumps of clay, hardened by exposure. A varietyof _asters_ may how be numbered among the characteristic plants, andthe artemisia continues in full glory; but _cacti_ have become rare, and mosses begin to dispute the hills with them. The evening was damp andunpleasant--the thermometer, at ten o'clock, being at 36°, and the grasswet with a heavy dew. Our astronomical observations placed this encampmentin longitude 109° 21' 32", and latitude 42° 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 tocross the dividing ridge by a bridle-path among the country moreimmediately 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 ascenthad been so gradual, that, with all the intimate knowledge possessed byCarson, who had made the country his home for seventeen years, we wereobliged to watch very closely to find the place at which we had reachedthe culminating point. This was between two low hills, rising on eitherhand fifty or sixty feet. When I looked back at them, from the foot of theimmediate slope on the western plain, their summits appeared to be aboutone hundred and twenty feet above. From the impression on my mind at thistime, and subsequently on our return, I should compare the elevation whichwe surmounted immediately at the Pass, to the ascent of the Capitol hillfrom the avenue, at Washington. It is difficult for me to fix positivelythe breadth of this Pass. From the broken ground where it commences, atthe foot of the Wind River chain, the view to the southeast is over achampaign country, broken, at the distance of nineteen miles, by the Tablerock; which, with the other isolated hills in its vicinity, seem to standon a comparative plain. This I judged to be its termination, the ridgerecovering its rugged character with the Table rock. It will be seen thatit in no manner resembles the places to which the term is commonlyapplied--nothing of the gorge-like character and winding ascents of theAlleghany passes in America; nothing of the Great St. Bernard and Simplonpasses in Europe. Approaching it from the mouth of the Sweet Water, asandy plain, one hundred and twenty miles long, conducts, by a gradual andregular ascent, to the summit, about seven thousand feet above the sea;and the traveler, without being reminded of any change by toilsomeascents, suddenly finds himself on the waters which flow to the Pacificocean. By the route we had traveled, the distance from Fort Laramie isthree hundred and twenty miles, or nine hundred and fifty from the mouthof the Kansas. 

Continuing our march, we reached, in eight miles from the Pass, the LittleSandy, one of the tributaries of the Colorado, or Green river of the Gulfof California. The weather had grown fine during the morning, and weremained here the rest of the day, to dry our baggage and take someastronomical observations. The stream was about forty feet wide, and twoor three deep, with clear water and a full swift current, over a sandybed. It was timbered with a growth of low bushy and dense willows, amongwhich were little verdant spots, which gave our animals fine grass, andwhere I found a number of interesting plants. Among the neighboring hillsI noticed fragments of granite containing magnetic iron. Longitude of thecamp was 109° 37' 59", and latitude 42° 27' 34". 

9th. --We made our noon halt on Big Sandy, another tributary of Greenriver. The face of the country traversed was of a brown sand of granitematerials, the _detritus_ of the neighboring mountain. Strata of themilky 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 theafternoon we had a severe storm of hail, and encamped at sunset on thefirst New Fork. Within the space of a few miles, the Wind mountains supplya number of tributaries to Green river, which are called the New Forks. Near our camp were two remarkable isolated hills, one of them sufficientlylarge to merit the name of mountain. They are called the Two Buttes, andwill serve to identify the place of our encampment, which the observationsof the evening placed in longitude 109° 58' 11", and latitude 42° 42' 46". On the right bank of the stream, opposite to the large hill, the stratawhich are displayed consist of decomposing granite, which supplies thebrown sand of which the face of the country is composed to a considerabledepth. 

10th. --The air at sunrise is clear and pure, and the morning extremelycold, but beautiful. A lofty snowy peak of the mountain is glittering inthe first rays of the sun, which have not yet reached us. The longmountain wall to the east, rising two thousand feet abruptly from theplain, behind which we see the peaks, is still dark, and cuts clearagainst the glowing sky. A fog, just risen from the river, lies along thebase of the mountain. A little before sunrise, the thermometer was at 35°, and at sunrise 33°. Water froze last night, and fires are verycomfortable. The scenery becomes hourly more interesting and grand, andthe view here is truly magnificent; but, indeed, it needs something torepay the long prairie journey of a thousand miles. The sun has shot abovethe wall, and makes a magical change. The whole valley is glowing andbright, and all the mountain peaks are gleaming like silver. Though thesesnow mountains are not the Alps, they have their own character of grandeurand magnificence, and doubtless will find pens and pencils to do themjustice. 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 wasagreeably disappointed in the character of the streams on this side of theridge. Instead of the creeks, which description had led me to expect, Ifind bold, broad streams, with three or four feet water, and a rapidcurrent. The fork on which we are encamped is upwards of a hundred feetwide, timbered with groves or thickets of the low willow. We were nowapproaching the loftiest part of the Wind River chain; and I left thevalley a few miles from our encampment, intending to penetrate themountains as far as possible with the whole party. We were soon involvedin very broken ground, among long ridges covered with fragments ofgranite. Winding our way up a long ravine, we came unexpectedly in view ofa most beautiful lake, set like a gem in the mountains. The sheet of waterlay transversely across the direction we had been pursuing; and, descending the steep, rocky ridge, where it was necessary to lead ourhorses, we followed its banks to the southern extremity. Here a view ofthe utmost magnificence and grandeur burst upon our eyes. With nothingbetween us and their feet to lessen the effect of the whole height, agrand bed of snow-capped mountains rose before us, pile upon pile, glowingin the bright light of an August day. Immediately below them lay the lake, between two ridges, covered with dark pines, which swept down from themain chain to the spot where we stood. Here, where the lake glittered inthe open sunlight, its banks of yellow sand and the light foliage of aspengroves contrasted well with the gloomy pines. "Never before, " said Mr. Preuss, "in this country or in Europe, have I seen such grand, magnificentrocks. " I was so much pleased with the beauty of the place, that Idetermined to make the main camp here, where our animals would find goodpasturage, and explore the mountains with a small party of men. Proceedinga little further, we came suddenly upon the outlet of the lake, where itfound its way through a narrow passage between low hills. Dark pines whichoverhung the stream, and masses of rock, where the water foamed along, gave it much romantic beauty. Where we crossed, which was immediately atthe outlet, it is two hundred and fifty feet wide, and so deep that withdifficulty we were able to ford it. Its bed was an accumulation of rocks, boulders, and broad slabs, and large angular fragments, among which theanimals 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 mybarometer broken. It was the only one. A great part of the interest of thejourney for me was in the exploration of these mountains, of which so muchhad been said that was doubtful and contradictory; and now their snowypeaks rose majestically before me, and the only means of giving themauthentically to science, the object of my anxious solicitude by night andday, was destroyed. We had brought this barometer in safety a thousandmiles, and broke it almost among the snow of the mountains. The loss wasfelt by the whole camp--all had seen my anxiety, and aided me inpreserving it. The height of these mountains, considered by many huntersand traders the highest in the whole range, had been a theme of constantdiscussion among them; and all had looked forward with pleasure to themoment when the instrument, which they believed to be as true as the sun, should stand upon the summits, and decide their disputes. Their grief wasonly inferior to my own. 

The lake is about three miles long, and of very irregular width, andapparently great depth, and is the head-water of the third New Fork, atributary to Green river, the Colorado of the west. In the narrative Ihave called it Mountain lake. I encamped on the north side, about threehundred and fifty yards from the outlet. This was the most western pointat which I obtained astronomical observations, by which this place, calledBernier's encampment, is made in 110° 08' 03" west longitude fromGreenwich, and latitude 43° 49' 49". The mountain peaks, as laid down, were fixed by bearings from this and other astronomical points. We had noother compass than the small ones used in sketching the country; but froman azimuth, in which one of them was used, the variation of the compass is18° east. The correction made in our field-work by the astronomicalobservations indicates that this is a very correct observation. 

As soon as the camp was formed, I set about endeavoring to repair mybarometer. As I have already said, this was a standard cistern barometer, of Troughton's construction. The glass cistern had been broken aboutmidway; but as the instrument had been kept in a proper position, no airhad found its way into the tube, the end of which had always remainedcovered. I had with me a number of vials of tolerably thick glass, some ofwhich were of the same diameter as the cistern, end I spent the day inslowly working on these, endeavoring to cut them of the requisite length;but, as my instrument was a very rough file, I invariably broke them. Agroove was cut in one of the trees, where the barometer was placed duringthe night, to be out of the way of any possible danger, and in the morningI commenced again. Among the powder-horns in the camp, I found one whichwas very transparent, so that its contents could be almost as plainly seenas through glass. This I boiled and stretched on a piece of wood to therequisite diameter, and scraped it very thin, in order to increase to theutmost its transparency. I then secured it firmly in its place on theinstrument, with strong glue made from a buffalo, and filled it withmercury, properly heated. A piece of skin, which had covered one of thevials, furnished a good pocket, which was well secured with strong threadand glue, and then the brass cover was screwed to its place. Theinstrument was left some time to dry; and when I reversed it, a few hoursafter, I had the satisfaction to find it in perfect order; its indicationsbeing about the same as on the other side of the lake before it had beenbroken. Our success in this little incident diffused pleasure throughoutthe camp; and we immediately set about our preparations for ascending themountains. 

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

I was desirous to keep strictly within the scope of my instructions, andit would have required ten or fifteen additional days for theaccomplishment of this object; our animals had become very much worn outwith the length of the journey; game was very scarce; and, though it doesnot appear in the course of the narrative, (as I have avoided dwellingupon trifling incidents not connected with the objects of the expedition, )the spirits of the men had been much exhausted by the hardships andprivations to which they had been subjected. Our provisions had wellnighall disappeared. Bread had been long out of the question; and of all ourstock, we had remaining two or three pounds of coffee, and a smallquantity of macaroni, which had been husbanded with great care for themountain expedition we were about to undertake. Our daily meal consistedof dry buffalo meat, cooked in tallow; and, as we had not dried this withIndian skill, part of it was spoiled; and what remained of good, was ashard as wood, having much the taste and appearance of so many pieces ofbark. Even of this, our stock was rapidly diminishing in a camp which wascapable of consuming two buffaloes in every twenty-four hours. Theseanimals had entirely disappeared; and it was not probable that we shouldfall in with them again until we returned to the Sweet Water. 

Our arrangements for the ascent were rapidly completed. We were in ahostile country, which rendered the greatest vigilance and circumspectionnecessary. The pass at the north end of the mountain was greatly infestedby Blackfeet, and immediately opposite was one of their forts, on the edgeof a little thicket, two or three hundred feet from our encampment. Wewere posted in a grove of beech, on the margin of the lake, and a fewhundred feet long, with a narrow _prairillon_ on the inner side, bordered by the rocky ridge. In the upper end of this grove we cleared acircular space about forty feet in diameter, and, with the felled timber, and interwoven branches, surrounded it with a breastwork five feet inheight. A gap was left for a gate on the inner side, by which the animalswere to be driven in and secured, while the men slept around the littlework. It was half hidden by the foliage, and garrisoned by twelve resolutemen, would have set at defiance any band of savages which might chance todiscover them in the interval of our absence. Fifteen of the best mules, with fourteen men, were selected for the mountain party. Our provisionsconsisted of dried meat for two days, with our little stock of coffee andsome macaroni. In addition to the barometer and thermometer, I took withme a sextant and spyglass, and we had of course our compasses. In chargeof the camp I left Bernier, one of my most trustworthy men, who possessedthe most determined courage. 

12th. --Early in the morning we left the camp, fifteen in number, wellarmed, of course, and mounted on our best mules. A pack-animal carried ourprovisions, with a coffeepot and kettle, and three or four tin cups. Everyman had a blanket strapped over his saddle, to serve for his bed, and theinstruments were carried by turns on their backs. We entered directly onrough and rocky ground; and, just after crossing the ridge, had the goodfortune to shoot an antelope. We heard the roar, and had a glimpse of awaterfall 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 ofthe first row or range of the mountains. Here, again, a view of the mostromantic beauty met our eyes. It seemed as if, from the vast expanse ofuninteresting prairie we had passed over, Nature had collected all herbeauties together in one chosen place. We were overlooking a deep valley, which was entirely occupied by three lakes, and from the brink to thesurrounding ridges rose precipitously five hundred and a thousand feet, covered with the dark green of the balsam pine, relieved on the border ofthe lake with the light foliage of the aspen. They all communicated witheach other, and the green of the waters, common to mountain lakes of greatdepth, showed that it would be impossible to cross them. The surprisemanifested by our guides when these impassable obstacles suddenly barredour progress, proved that they were among the hidden treasures of theplace, unknown even to the wandering trappers of the region. Descendingthe hill, we proceeded to make our way along the margin to the southernextremity. A narrow strip of angular fragments of rock sometimes affordeda rough pathway for our mules, but generally we rode along the shelvingside, occasionally scrambling up, at a considerable risk of tumbling backinto the lake. 

The slope was frequently 60°; the pines grew densely together and theground was covered with the branches and trunks of trees. The air wasfragrant with the odor of the pines; and I realized this delightfulmorning the pleasure of breathing that mountain air which makes a constanttheme of the hunter's praise, and which now made us feel as if we had allbeen drinking some exhilarating gas. The depths of this unexplored forestwere a place to delight the heart of a botanist. There was a richundergrowth of plants, and numerous gay-colored flowers in brilliantbloom. We reached the outlet at length, where some freshly-barked willowsthat lay in the water showed that beaver had been recently at work. 

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

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

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

A small stream, with scarcely perceptible current, flowed through a levelbottom of perhaps eighty yards width, where the grass was saturated withwater. Into this the mules were turned, and were neither hobbled norpicketed during the night, as the fine pasturage took away all temptationto stray; and we made our bivouac in the pines. The surrounding masseswere all of granite. While supper was being prepared, I set out on anexcursion in the neighborhood, accompanied by one of my men. We wanderedabout among the crags and ravines until dark, richly repaid for our walkby a fine collection of plants, many of them in full bloom. Ascending apeak to find the place of our camp, we saw that the little defile in whichwe lay communicated with the long green valley of some stream, which, herelocked up in the mountains, far away to the south, found its way in adense forest to the plains. 

Looking along its upward course, it seemed to conduct, by a smooth gradualslope, directly towards the peak, which, from long consultation as weapproached 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 hasteneddown 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 cleanrocks made good plates, on which we spread our macaroni. Among all thestrange 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 thisevening. The disorder of the masses which surrounded us--the little holethrough 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 ofvery wild beauty. 

13th. --The morning was bright and pleasant, just cool enough to makeexercise agreeable, and we soon entered the defile I had seen thepreceding day. It was smoothly carpeted with soft grass, and scatteredover with groups of flowers, of which yellow was the predominant color. Sometimes we were forced, by an occasional difficult pass, to pick our wayon a narrow ledge along the side of the defile, and the mules werefrequently on their knees; but these obstructions were rare, and wejourneyed on in the sweet morning air, delighted at our good fortune inhaving found such a beautiful entrance to the mountains. This roadcontinued for about three miles, when we suddenly reached its terminationin one of the grand views which, at every turn, meet the traveler in thismagnificent region. Here the defile up which we had traveled opened outinto a small lawn, where, in a little lake, the stream had its source. 

There were some fine _asters_ in bloom, but all the flowering plantsappeared to seek the shelter of the rocks, and to be of lower growth thanbelow, as if they loved the warmth of the soil, and kept out of the way ofthe winds. Immediately at our feet, a precipitous descent led to aconfusion of defiles, and before us rose the mountains, as we haverepresented them in the annexed view. It is not by the splendor of far-offviews, which have lent such a glory to the Alps, that these impress themind; but by a gigantic disorder of enormous masses, and a savagesublimity of naked rock, in wonderful contrast with innumerable greenspots of a rich floral beauty, shut up in their stern recesses. Theirwildness seems well suited to the character of the people who inhabit thecountry. 

I determined to leave our animals here, and make the rest of our way onfoot. The peak appeared so near, that there was no doubt of our returningbefore night; and a few men were left in charge of the mules, with ourprovisions and blankets. We took with us nothing but our arms andinstruments, and, as the day had become warm, the greater part left ourcoats. Having made an early dinner, we started again. We were sooninvolved in the most ragged precipices, nearing the central chain veryslowly, and rising but little. The first ridge hid a succession of others;and when, with great fatigue and difficulty, we had climbed up fivehundred feet, it was but to make an equal descent on the other side; allthese intervening places were filled with small deep lakes, which met theeye in every direction, descending from one level to another, sometimesunder bridges formed by huge fragments of granite, beneath which was heardthe roar of the water. These constantly obstructed our path, forcing us tomake long _détours_; frequently obliged to retrace our steps, andfrequently falling among the rocks. Maxwell was precipitated towards theface of a precipice, and saved himself from going over by throwing himselfflat on the ground. We clambered on, always expecting, with every ridgethat 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 shoreof a little lake, in which was a rocky island. We remained here a shorttime to rest, and continued on around the lake, which had in some places abeach of white sand, and in others was bound with rocks, over which theway was difficult and dangerous, as the water from innumerable springsmade them very slippery. 

By the time we had reached the further side of the lake, we foundourselves all exceedingly fatigued, and, much to the satisfaction of thewhole party, we encamped. The spot we had chosen was a broad flat rock, insome measure protected from the winds by the surrounding crags, and thetrunks of fallen pines afforded us bright fires. Near by was a foamingtorrent, which tumbled into the little lake about one hundred and fiftyfeet below us, and which, by way of distinction, we have called Islandlake. We had reached the upper limit of the piney region; as, above thispoint, no tree was to be seen, and patches of snow lay everywhere aroundus, on the cold sides of the rocks. The flora of the region we hadtraversed since leaving our mules was extremely rich, and, among thecharacteristic plants, the scarlet flowers of the _dodecatheondentatum_ everywhere met the eye, in great abundance. A small greenravine, on the edge of which we were encamped, was filled with a profusionof alpine plants, in brilliant bloom. From barometrical observations, madeduring our three days' sojourn at this place, its elevation above the Gulfof Mexico is 10, 000 feet. During the day, we had seen no sign of animallife; but among the rocks here, we heard what was supposed to be the bleatof a young goat, which we searched for with hungry activity, and found toproceed 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 onlyinhabitant 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 eatto-night. Lajeunesse, with several others, took their guns, and salliedout in search of a goat; but returned unsuccessful. At sunset, thebarometer stood at 20. 522; the attached thermometer 50°. Here we had themisfortune to break our thermometer, having now only that attached to thebarometer. I was taken ill shortly after we had encamped, and continued sountil late in the night, with violent headache and vomiting. This wasprobably caused by the excessive fatigue I had undergone, and want offood, and perhaps, also, in some measure, by the rarity of the air. Thenight 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 granitebeds, had not been favorable to sleep, and we were glad to see the face ofthe sun in the morning. Not being delayed by any preparation forbreakfast, we set out immediately. 

On every side, as we advanced, was heard the roar of waters, and of atorrent, which we followed up a short distance, until it expanded into alake about one mile in length. On the northern side of the lake was a bankof ice, or rather of snow covered with a crust of ice. Carson had been ourguide into the mountains, and, agreeably to his advice, we left thislittle valley, and took to the ridges again, which we found extremelybroken, and where we were again involved among precipices. Here were ice-fields; among which we were all dispersed, seeking each the best path toascend the peak. Mr. Preuss attempted to walk along the upper edge of oneof 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 sharprock, 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 therocks, a short distance below; and at this point I was attacked withheadache 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 reachthe peak if possible, and take an observation there. He found himselfunable to proceed further in that direction, and took an observation, where the barometer stood at 19. 401; attached thermometer 50°, in the gap. Carson, who had gone over to him, succeeded in reaching one of the snowysummits of the main ridge, whence he saw the peak towards which all ourefforts had been directed, towering eight or ten hundred feet into the airabove 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 Idirected him to bring back with him, if it were in any way possible, fouror five mules, with provisions and blankets. With me were Maxwell andAyer; and after we had remained nearly an hour on the rock, it became sounpleasantly cold, though the day was bright, that we set out on ourreturn to the camp, at which we all arrived safely, straggling in oneafter the other. I continued ill during the afternoon, but became bettertowards sundown, when my recovery was completed by the appearance of Basiland four men, all mounted. The men who had gone with him had been too muchfatigued 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 aman. They brought blankets and provisions, and we enjoyed well our driedmeat 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; andthe evening before it had been arranged that Carson should set out atdaylight, and return to breakfast at the Camp of the Mules, taking withhim all but four or five men, who were to stay with me and bring back themules and instruments. Accordingly, at the break of day they set out. WithMr. Preuss and myself remained Basil Lajeunesse, Clement Lambert, Janisse, and Descoteaux. When we had secured strength for the day by a heartybreakfast, we covered what remained, which was enough for one meal, withrocks, in order that it might be safe from any marauding bird, and, saddling our mules, turned our faces once more towards the peaks. Thistime we determined to proceed quietly and cautiously, deliberatelyresolved to accomplish our object if it were within the compass of humanmeans. We were of opinion that a long defile which lay to the left ofyesterday's route would lead us to the foot of the main peak. Our muleshad been refreshed by the fine grass in the little ravine at the Islandcamp, and we intended to ride up the defile as far as possible, in orderto husband our strength for the main ascent. Though this was a finepassage, still it was a defile of the most rugged mountains known, and wehad many a rough and steep slippery place to cross before reaching theend. In this place the sun rarely shone; snow lay along the border of thesmall stream which flowed through it, and occasional icy passages made thefooting of the mules very insecure, and the rocks and ground were moistwith the trickling waters in this spring of mighty rivers. We soon had thesatisfaction to find ourselves riding along the huge wall which forms thecentral summits of the chain. There at last it rose by our sides, a nearlyperpendicular wall of granite, terminating 2, 000 to 3, 000 feet above ourheads in a serrated line of broken, jagged cones. We rode on until we camealmost 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 thousandyards 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 feetabove the Island lake. The barometer here stood at 20. 450, attachedthermometer 70°. 

We managed to get our mules up to a little bench about a hundred feetabove the lakes, where there was a patch of good grass, and turned themloose to graze. During our rough ride to this place, they had exhibited awonderful surefootedness. Parts of the defile were filled with angular, sharp fragments of rock, three or four and eight or ten feet cube; andamong these they had worked their way, leaping from one narrow point toanother, rarely making a false step, and giving us no occasion todismount. Having divested ourselves of every unnecessary encumbrance, wecommenced the ascent. This time, like experienced travelers, we did notpress ourselves, but climbed leisurely, sitting down so soon as we foundbreath beginning to fail. At intervals we reached places where a number ofsprings gushed from the rocks, and about 1800 feet above the lakes came tothe snow line. From this point our progress was uninterrupted climbing. Hitherto I had worn a pair of thick moccasins, with soles of_parflèche_, but here I put on a light, thin pair, which I hadbrought for the purpose, as now the use of our toes became necessary to afurther advance. I availed myself of a sort of comb of the mountain, whichstood against the wall like a buttress, and which the wind and the solarradiation, joined to the steepness of the smooth rock, had kept almostentirely free from snow. Up this I made my way rapidly. Our cautiousmethod of advancing at the outset had spared my strength; and, with theexception of a slight disposition to headache, I felt no remains ofyesterday's illness. In a few minutes we reached a point where thebuttress was overhanging, and there was no other way of surmounting thedifficulty than by passing around one side of it, which was the face of avertical precipice of several hundred feet. 

Putting hands and feet in the crevices between the blocks, I succeeded ingetting over it, and, when I reached the top, found my companions in asmall valley below. Descending to them, we continued climbing, and in ashort time reached the crest. I sprang upon the summit, and another stepwould have precipitated me into an immense snow-field five hundred feetbelow. To the edge of this field was a sheer icy precipice; and then, witha gradual fall, the field sloped off for about a mile, until it struck thefoot of another lower ridge. I stood on a narrow crest, about three feetin width, with an inclination of about 20°N. 51°E. As soon as I hadgratified the first feelings of curiosity, I descended, and each manascended in his turn; for I would only allow one at a time to mount theunstable and precarious slab, which it seemed a breath would hurl into theabyss 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 thebreeze where never flag waved before. During our morning's ascent, we hadmet no sign of animal life, except the small sparrow-like bird alreadymentioned. A stillness the most profound and a terrible solitude forcedthemselves constantly on the mind as the great features of the place. Here, on the summit, where the stillness was absolute, unbroken by anysound, and solitude complete, we thought ourselves beyond the region ofanimated life; but while we were sitting on the rock, a solitary bee(_bromus, the humble-bee_) came winging his flight from the easternvalley, and lit on the knee of one of the men. 

It was a strange place, the icy rock and the highest peak of the Rockymountains, for a lover of warm sunshine and flowers; and we pleasedourselves with the idea that he was the first of his species to cross themountain barrier--a solitary pioneer to foretell the advance ofcivilization. I believe that a moment's thought would have made us let himcontinue his way unharmed; but we carried out the law of this country, where all animated nature seems at war; and, seizing him immediately, puthim in at least a fit place--in the leaves of a large book, among theflowers we had collected on our way. The barometer stood at 18. 293, theattached thermometer at 44°; giving for the elevation of this summit13, 570 feet above the Gulf of Mexico, which may be called the highestflight of the bee. It is certainly the highest known flight of thatinsect. From the description given by Mackenzie of the mountains where hecrossed 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 theoldest traders of the country, it is presumed that this is the highestpeak of the Rocky mountains. The day was sunny and bright, but a slightshining mist hung over the lower plains, which interfered with our view ofthe surrounding country. On one side we overlooked innumerable lakes andstreams, the spring of the Colorado of the Gulf of California; and on theother was the Wind River valley, where were the heads of the Yellowstonebranch of the Missouri; far to the north, we could just discover the snowyheads of the _Trois Tetons_, where were the sources of the Missouriand Columbia rivers; and at the southern extremity of the ridge, the peakswere plainly visible, among which were some of the springs of the Nebraskaor Platte river. Around us, the whole scene had one main, strikingfeature, which was that of terrible convulsion. Parallel to its length, the ridge was split into chasms and fissures; between which rose the thinlofty walls, terminated with slender minarets and columns. According tothe barometer, the little crest of the wall on which we stood was threethousand five hundred and seventy feet above that place, and two thousandseven hundred and eighty above the little lakes at the bottom, immediatelyat our feet. Our camp at the Two Hills (an astronomical station) boresouth 3° east, which, with a bearing afterwards obtained from a fixedposition, enabled us to locate the peak. The bearing of the _TroisTetons_ was north 50° west, and the direction of the central ridge ofthe Wind River mountains south 39° east. The summit rock was gneiss, succeeded by sienitic gneiss. Sienite and feldspar succeeded in ourdescent to the snow line, where we found a feldspathic granite. I hadremarked that the noise produced by the explosion of our pistols had theusual degree of loudness, but was not in the least prolonged, expiringalmost instantaneously. 

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

We reached our deposite of provisions at nightfall. Here was not the innwhich awaits the tired traveler on his return from Mont Blanc, or theorange groves of South America, with their refreshing juices and softfragrant air; but we found our little _cache_ of dried meat andcoffee undisturbed. Though the moon was bright, the road was full ofprecipices, and the fatigue of the day had been great. We thereforeabandoned 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 largeflocks of the mountain-goat looking down on us from the cliffs. At thecrack of the rifle, they would bound off among the rocks, and in a fewminutes make their appearance on some lofty peak, some hundred or athousand feet above. It is needless to attempt any further description ofthe country; the portion over which we traveled this morning was rough asimagination could picture it, and to us seemed equally beautiful. Aconcourse of lakes and rushing waters--mountains of rocks naked anddestitute of vegetable earth--dells and ravines of the most exquisitebeauty, all kept green and fresh by the great moisture in the air, andsown with brilliant flowers, and everywhere thrown around all the glory ofmost magnificent scenes, --these constitute the features of the place, andimpress themselves vividly on the mind of the traveler. It was not until11 o'clock that we reached the place where our animals had been left, whenwe first attempted the mountains on foot. Near one of the still burningfires we found a piece of meat, which our friends had thrown away, andwhich furnished us a mouthful--a very scanty breakfast. We continueddirectly on, and reached our camp on the mountain lake at dusk. We foundall 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 ouranimals. All heard with great delight the order to turn our faceshomeward; and towards sundown of the 17th, we encamped again at the TwoButtes. 

In the course of this afternoon's march, the barometer was broken pastremedy. 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 ithad 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 withthe turpentine scent of the various _artemisias_, which are now inbloom, and, numerous as they are, give much gayety to the landscape of theplains. At ten o'clock, we stood exactly on the divide in the pass, wherethe wagon-road crosses; and, descending immediately upon the Sweet Water, halted to take a meridian observation of the sun. The latitude was 42° 24'32". 

In the course of the afternoon we saw buffalo again, and at our eveninghalt on the Sweet Water the roasted ribs again made their appearancearound the fires; and, with them, good humor, and laughter and song, wererestored to the camp. Our coffee had been expended, but we now made a kindof 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 thecustom of early travelers and explorers in our country, I engraved on thisrock of the Far West a symbol of the Christian faith. Among the thicklyinscribed names, I made on the hard granite the impression of a largecross, which I covered with a black preparation of India-rubber, wellcalculated to resist the influence of wind and rain. It stands amidst thenames of many who have long since found their way to the grave, and forwhom the huge rock is a giant gravestone. 

One George Weymouth was sent out to Maine by the Earl of Southampton, LordArundel, 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 liesmore to the westward, carrying with us a cross--a thing never omitted byany Christian traveler--which we erected at the ultimate end of ourroute. " This was in the year 1605; and in 1842 I obeyed the feeling ofearly travelers, and left the impression of the cross deeply engraved onthe vast rock one thousand miles beyond the Mississippi, to whichdiscoverers have given the national name of _Rock Independence_. 

In obedience to my instructions to survey the river Platte, if possible, Ihad determined to make an attempt at this place. The India-rubber boat wasfilled with air, placed in the water, and loaded with what was necessaryfor 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 theimpossible undertaking, and waited for the arrival of the party, when wepacked up our boat and equipage, and at nine o'clock were again movingalong on our land journey. We continued along the valley on the right bankof the Sweet Water, where the formation, as already described, consists ofa grayish micaceous sandstone, and fine-grained conglomerate, and marl. Wepassed over a ridge which borders or constitutes the river hills of thePlatte, consisting of huge blocks, sixty or eighty feet cube, ofdecomposing granite. The cement which united them was probably of easierdecomposition, and has disappeared and left them isolate, and separated bysmall spaces. Numerous horns of the mountain-goat were lying among therocks; and in the ravines were cedars, whose trunks were of extraordinarysize. From this ridge we descended to a small open plain, at the mouth ofthe Sweet Water, which rushed with a rapid current into the Platte, hereflowing along in a broad and apparently deep stream, which seemed, fromits turbid appearance, to be considerably swollen. I obtained here someastronomical observations, and the afternoon was spent in getting our boatready for navigation the next day. 

24th. --We started before sunrise, intending to breakfast at Goat island. Ihad directed the land party, in charge of Bernier, to proceed to thisplace, where they were to remain, should they find no note to apprize themof our having passed. In the event of receiving this information, theywere to continue their route, passing by certain places which had beendesignated. Mr. Preuss accompanied me, and with us were five of my bestmen, viz. : C. Lambert, Basil Lajeunesse, Honore Ayot, Benoist, andDescoteaux. Here appeared no scarcity of water, and we took on board, withvarious instruments and baggage, provisions for ten or twelve days. Wepaddled down the river rapidly, for our little craft was light as a duckon the water; and the sun had been some time risen, when we heard beforeus a hollow roar, which we supposed to be that of a fall, of which we hadheard a vague rumor, but whose exact locality no one had been able todescribe to us. We were approaching a ridge, through which the riverpasses by a place called "canon, " (pronounced _kanyon_, )--a Spanishword, signifying a piece of artillery, the barrel of a gun, or any kind oftube; and which, in this country, has been adopted to describe the passageof a river between perpendicular rocks of great height, which frequentlyapproach each other so closely overhead as to form a kind of tunnel overthe stream, which foams along below, half choked up by fallen fragments. Between the mouth of the Sweet Water and Goat island, there is probably afall of three hundred feet, and that was principally made in the canonsbefore us; as, without them, the water was comparatively smooth. As weneared the ridge, the river made a sudden turn, and swept squarely downagainst one of the walls of the canon, with great velocity, and so steep adescent that it had, to the eye, the appearance of an inclined plane. Whenwe launched into this, the men jumped overboard, to check the velocity ofthe 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, notmany yards square, backed by the rocks; and around the point the riverswept at a right angle. Trunks of trees deposited on jutting points, twenty or thirty feet above, and other marks, showed that the water herefrequently rose to a considerable height. The ridge was of the samedecomposing granite already mentioned, and the water had worked thesurface, in many places, into a wavy surface of ridges and holes. Weascended the rocks to reconnoitre the ground, and from the summit thepassage appeared to be a continued cataract, foaming over manyobstructions, and broken by a number of small falls. We saw nowhere a fallanswering to that which had been described to us as having twenty ortwenty-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 wouldproduce a great rise; and the waters, reflected squarely off, woulddescend through the passage in a sheet of foam, having every appearance ofa large fall. Eighteen years previous to this time, as I have subsequentlylearned from himself, Mr. Fitzpatrick, somewhere above on this river, hadembarked with a valuable cargo of beaver. Unacquainted with the stream, which he believed would conduct him safely to the Missouri, he cameunexpectedly into this canon, where he was wrecked, with the total loss ofhis furs. It would have been a work of great time and labor to pack ourbaggage across the ridge, and I determined to run the canon. We all againembarked, and at first attempted to check the way of the boat; but thewater swept through with so much violence that we narrowly escaped beingswamped, 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 canonwere where huge rocks had fallen from above, and hemmed in the alreadynarrow pass of the river to an open space of three or four and five feet. These obstructions raised the water considerably above, which wassometimes precipitated over in a fall; and at other places, where this damwas too high, rushed through the contracted opening with tremendousviolence. Had our boat been made of wood, in passing the narrows she wouldhave been staved; but her elasticity preserved her unhurt from everyshock, and she seemed fairly to leap over the falls. 

In this way we passed three cataracts in succession, where perhaps 100feet of smooth water intervened; and, finally, with a shout of pleasure atour success, issued from our tunnel into the open day beyond. We were sodelighted with the performance of our boat, and so confident in herpowers, that we would not have hesitated to leap a fall of ten feet withher. 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, andhungry. 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 Icould see; on both sides were broken hills; and but a mile or two belowwas another high ridge. The rock at the mouth of the canon was still thedecomposing granite, with great quantities of mica, which made a veryglittering sand. 

We re-embarked at nine o'clock, and in about twenty minutes reached thenext canon. Landing on a rocky shore at its commencement, we ascended theridge to reconnoitre. Portage was out of the question. So far as we couldsee, the jagged rocks pointed out the course of the canon, on a windingline of seven or eight miles. It was simply a narrow, dark chasm in therock; and here the perpendicular faces were much higher than in theprevious pass, being at this end two to three hundred, and further down, as we afterwards ascertained, five hundred feet in vertical height. Ourprevious success had made us bold, and we determined again to run thecanon. Every thing was secured as firmly as possible; and having divestedourselves of the greater part of our clothing, we pushed into the stream. To save our chronometer from accident, Mr. Preuss took it, and attemptedto proceed along the shore on the masses of rock, which in places werepiled up on either side; but, after he had walked about five minutes, every thing like shore disappeared, and the vertical wall came squarelydown into the water. He therefore waited until we came up. An ugly passlay before us. We had made fast to the stern of the boat a strong ropeabout fifty feet long; and three of the men clambered along among therocks, and with this rope let her slowly through the pass. In severalplaces high rocks lay scattered about in the channel; and in the narrowsit required all our strength and skill to avoid staving the boat on thesharp points. In one of these, the boat proved a little too broad, andstuck fast for an instant, while the water flew over us; fortunately, itwas but for an instant, as our united strength forced her immediatelythrough. 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 becamethe prey of the whirlpools. We reached the place where Mr. Preuss wasstanding, took him on board, and, with the aid of the boat, put the menwith the rope on the succeeding pile of rocks. We found this passage muchworse than the previous one, and our position was rather a bad one. To goback was impossible; before us, the cataract was a sheet of foam; and shutup in the chasm by the rocks, which, in some places, seemed almost to meetoverhead, the roar of the water was deafening. We pushed off again; but, after making a little distance, the force of the current became too greatfor the men on shore, and two of them let go the rope. Lajeunesse, thethird man, hung on, and was jerked headforemost into the river from a rockabout twelve feet high; and down the boat shot like an arrow, Basilfollowing us in the rapid current, and exerting all his strength to keepin mid channel--his head only seen occasionally like a black spot in thewhite foam. How far we went, I do not exactly know; but we succeeded inturning the boat into an eddy below. "'_Cre Dieu_, " said BasilLajeunesse, as he arrived immediately after us, "_Je crois bien que j'ainagé 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 toskill and fortune to reach the other end in safety. We placed ourselves onour knees with the short paddles in our hands, the most skilful boatmanbeing at the bow; and again we commenced our rapid descent. We clearedrock after rock, and shot past fall after fall, our little boat seeming toplay with the cataract. We became flushed with success, and familiar withthe danger; and, yielding to the excitement of the occasion, broke forthinto 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 aconcealed rock immediately at the foot of a fall, which whirled her overin an instant. Three of my men could not swim, and my first feeling was toassist them, and save some of our effects; but a sharp concussion or twoconvinced me that I had not yet saved myself. A few strokes brought meinto an eddy, and I landed on a pile of rocks on the left side. Lookingaround, I saw that Mr. Preuss had gained the shore on the same side, abouttwenty yards below; and a little climbing and swimming soon brought him tomy 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 bythe hair, and who could not swim; "_Lâche pas_, " said he, as Iafterwards learned, "_lâche pas, cher frère_. " "_Crains pas_, "was the reply: "_je m'en vais mourir avant que de te lâcher_. " Suchwas the reply of courage and generosity in this danger. For a hundredyards below the current was covered with floating books and boxes, balesand blankets, and scattered articles of clothing; and so strong andboiling was the stream, that even our heavy instruments, which were all incases, kept on the surface, and the sextant, circle, and the long blackbox of the telescope, were in view at once. For a moment, I felt somewhatdisheartened. All our books--almost every record of the journey--ourjournals and registers of astronomical and barometrical observations--hadbeen lost in a moment. But it was no time to indulge in regrets; and Iimmediately set about endeavoring to save something from the wreck. Makingourselves understood as well as possible by signs, (for nothing could beheard in the roar of the waters, ) we commenced our operations. Of everything on board, the only article that had been saved was my double-barreled gun, which Descoteaux had caught and clung to with drowningtenacity. The men continued down the river on the left bank. Mr. Preussand myself descended on the side we were on; and Lajeunesse, with a paddlein his hand, jumped on the boat alone, and continued down the canon. Shewas now light, and cleared every bad place with much less difficulty. In ashort time he was joined by Lambert, and the search was continued forabout a mile and a half, which was as far as the boat could proceed in thepass. 

Here the walls were about five hundred feet high, and the fragments ofrocks from above had choked the river into a hollow pass, but one or twofeet above the surface. Through this and the interstices of the rock, thewater found its way. Favored beyond our expectations, all of our registershad been recovered, with the exception of one of my journals, whichcontained the notes and incidents of travel, and topographicaldescriptions, a number of scattered astronomical observations, principallymeridian altitudes of the sun, and our barometrical register west ofLaramie. Fortunately, our other journals contained duplicates of the mostimportant barometrical observations which had been taken in the mountains. These, with a few scattered notes, were all that had been preserved of ourmeteorological observations. In addition to these, we saved the circle;and these, with a few blankets, constituted every thing that had beenrescued from the waters. 

The day was running rapidly away, and it was necessary to reach Goatisland, whither the party had preceded us, before night. In this uncertaincountry, the traveler is so much in the power of chance, that we becamesomewhat uneasy in regard to them. Should any thing have occurred, in thebrief interval of our separation, to prevent our rejoining them, oursituation would be rather a desperate one. We had not a morsel ofprovisions--our arms and ammunition were gone--and we were entirely at themercy of any straggling party of savages, and not a little in danger ofstarvation. We therefore set out at once in two parties, Mr. Preuss andmyself 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 ourdescent through the canon, the rocks, which at the upper end was of thedecomposing granite, changed into a varied sandstone formation. The hillsand points of the ridges were covered with fragments of a yellowsandstone, of which the strata were sometimes displayed in the brokenravines which interrupted our course, and made our walk extremelyfatiguing. At one point of the canon the red argillaceous sandstone rosein a wall of five hundred feet, surmounted by a stratum of whitesandstone; and in an opposite ravine a column of red sandstone rose, inform like a steeple, about one hundred and fifty feet high. The scenerywas extremely picturesque, and notwithstanding our forlorn condition, wewere frequently obliged to stop and admire it. Our progress was not veryrapid. We had emerged from the water half naked, and, on arriving at thetop of the precipice, I found myself with only one moccasin. The fragmentsof rock made walking painful, and I was frequently obliged to stop andpull out the thorns of the _cactus_, here the prevailing plant, andwith which a few minutes' walk covered the bottoms of my feet. From thisridge the river emerged into a smiling prairie, and, descending to thebank for water, we were joined by Benoist. The rest of the party were outof sight, having taken a more inland route. We crossed the riverrepeatedly--sometimes able to ford it, and sometimes swimming--climbedover 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, wehad not entered this pass, reserving it for our descent in the boat; andwhen we entered it this evening, Mr. Preuss was a few hundred feet inadvance. Heated with the long march, he came suddenly upon a fine boldspring gushing from the rock, about ten feet above the river. Eager toenjoy the crystal water, he threw himself down for a hasty draught, andtook 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 hiseagerness, and he escaped the hot draught. We had no thermometer toascertain the temperature, but I could hold my hand in the water just longenough to count two seconds. There are eight or ten of these springsdischarging themselves by streams large enough to be called runs. A loudhollow noise was heard from the rock, which I supposed to be produced bythe fall of water. The strata immediately where they issue is a fine whiteand calcareous sandstone, covered with an incrustation of common salt. Leaving this Thermopylæ of the west, in a short walk we reached the redridge which has been described as lying just above Goat island. Ascendingthis, we found some fresh tracks and a button, which showed that the othermen had already arrived. A shout from the man who first reached the top ofthe ridge, responded to from below, informed us that our friends were allon the island; and we were soon among them. We found some pieces ofbuffalo standing around the fire for us, and managed to get some dryclothes among the people. A sudden storm of rain drove us into the bestshelter we could find, where we slept soundly, after one of the mostfatiguing days I have ever experienced. 

25th. --Early this morning Lajeunesse was sent to the wreck for thearticles which had been saved, and about noon we left the island. The marewhich we had left here in July had much improved in condition, and sheserved us well again for some time, but was finally abandoned at asubsequent part of the journey. At 10 in the morning of the 26th wereached Cache camp, where we found every thing undisturbed. We disinterredour 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 theford of the Platte. 

27th. --At mid-day we halted at the place where we had taken dinner on the27th of July. The country which, when we passed up, looked as if the hardwinter frosts had passed over it, had now assumed a new face, so much ofvernal freshness had been given to it by the rains. The Platte wasexceedingly low--a mere line of water among the sandbars. We reachedLaramie fort on the last day of August, after an absence of forty-twodays, and had the pleasure to find our friends all well. The fortieth dayhad been fixed for our return; and the quick eyes of the Indians, who wereon 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 wereturned with scattered volleys of our small-arms, and felt the joy of ahome reception in getting back to this remote station, which seemed so faroff as we went out. 

SEPTEMBER. 

On the morning of the 3d September we bade adieu to our kind friends atthe fort, and continued our homeward journey down the Platte, which wasglorious with the autumnal splendor of innumerable flowers in full andbrilliant bloom. On the warm sands, among the _helianthi_, one of thecharacteristic plants, we saw great numbers of rattlesnakes, of which fiveor six were killed in the morning's ride. We occupied ourselves inimproving 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 ofSioux Indians, some of whose chiefs we had met at Laramie. The water inthe Platte was exceedingly low; in many places, the large expanse ofsands, with some occasional stunted tree on its banks, gave it the air ofthe 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. Wecrossed and recrossed with our carts repeatedly and at our pleasure; and, whenever an obstruction barred our way in the shape of precipitous bluffsthat came down upon the river, we turned directly into it, and made ourway along the sandy bed, with no other inconvenience than the frequentquicksands, which greatly fatigued our animals. Disinterring on the waythe _cache_ which had been made by our party when they ascended theriver, we reached without accident, on the evening of the 12th ofSeptember, our old encampment of the 2d of July, at the junction of theforks. Our _cache_ of the barrel of pork was found undisturbed, andproved a seasonable addition to our stock of provisions. At this place Ihad determined to make another attempt to descend the Platte by water, andaccordingly spent two days in the construction of a bull boat. Men weresent out on the evening of our arrival, the necessary number of bullskilled, and their skins brought to the camp. Four of the best of them werestrongly sewed together with buffalo sinew, and stretched over a basketframe of willow. The seams were then covered with ashes and tallow, andthe boat left exposed to the sun for the greater part of one day, whichwas sufficient to dry and contract the skin, and make the whole work solidand strong. It had a rounded bow, was eight feet long and five broad, anddrew with four men about four inches water. On the morning of the 15th weembarked in our hide boat, Mr. Preuss and myself, with two men. We draggedher 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. Thenames given by the Indians are always remarkably appropriate; andcertainly none was ever more so than that which they have given to thisstream--"The Nebraska, or Shallow river. " Walking steadily the remainderof the day, a little before dark we overtook our people at their remainingcamp, about twenty-one miles below the junction. The next morning wecrossed the Platte, and continued our way down the river bottom on theleft bank, where we found an excellent, plainly-beaten road. 

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

On the 22d we arrived at the village of the Grand Pawnees, on the rightbank 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 verywelcome supply of vegetables. 

The morning of the 24th we reached the Loup fork of the Platte. At theplace where we forded it, this stream was four hundred and thirty yardsbroad, with a swift current of _clear_ water; in this respect, differing from the Platte, which has a yellow muddy color, derived fromthe limestone and marl formation, of which we have previously spoken. Theford was difficult, as the water was so deep that it came into the body ofthe carts, and we reached the opposite bank after repeated attempts, ascending and descending the bed of the river, in order to avail ourselvesof the bars. We encamped on the left bank of the fork, in the point ofland at its junction with the Platte. During the two days that we remainedhere for astronomical observations, the bad weather permitted us to obtainbut 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° 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 incharge of the American Company's establishment at that place, the aid ofhis carpenters in constructing a boat, in which I proposed to descend theMissouri. On the afternoon of the 27th we met one of the men, who had beendispatched by Mr. Sarpy with a welcome supply of provisions and a verykind note, which gave us the very gratifying intelligence that our boatwas in rapid progress. On the evening of the 30th we encamped in an almostimpenetrable undergrowth on the left bank of the Platte, in the point ofland at its confluence with the Missouri--315 miles, according to ourreckoning, from the junction of the forks, and 520 from Fort Laramie. Fromthe junction we had found the bed of the Platte occupied with numerousislands, many of them very large, and all well timbered; possessing, aswell as the bottom lands of the river, a very excellent soil. With theexception of some scattered groves on the banks, the bottoms are generallywithout timber. A portion of these consist of low grounds, covered with aprofusion of fine grasses, and are probably inundated in the spring; theremaining part is high river prairie, entirely beyond the influence of thefloods. The breadth of the river is usually three-quarters of a mile, except where it is enlarged by islands. That portion of its course whichis 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 feelingof pleasure the tinkling of cow-bells at the settlements on the oppositeside of the Missouri. Early in the day we reached Mr. Sarpy's residence;and, in the security and comfort of his hospitable mansion, felt thepleasure of being within the pale of civilization. We found our boat onthe stocks; a few days sufficed to complete her; and, in the afternoon ofthe 4th, we embarked on the Missouri. All our equipage--horses, carts, andthe _materiel_ of the camp--had been sold at public auction atBellevue. The strength of my party enabled me to man the boat with tenoars, relieved every hour; and we descended rapidly. Early on the morningof the 10th, we halted to make some astronomical observations at the mouthof the Kansas, exactly four months since we had left the trading-post ofMr. Cyprian Chouteau, on the same river, ten miles above. On our descentto this place, we had employed ourselves in surveying and sketching theMissouri, making astronomical observations regularly at night and at mid-day, whenever the weather permitted. These operations on the river werecontinued until our arrival at the city of St. Louis, Missouri, on the17th. 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 toyou 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 themeridian of Greenwich. _

For the determination of astronomical positions, we were provided with thefollowing 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 Kansasriver, strained the balance of this chronometer, (No. 7, 810) and renderedit useless during the remainder of the campaign. From the 9th of June tothe 24th of August, inclusively, the longitudes depend upon the Brockbankpocket chronometer; the rate of which, on leaving St. Louis, was fourteenseconds. The rate obtained by observations at Fort Laramie, 14". 05, hasbeen 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 ofthis watch was irregular, and I place little confidence in the fewlongitudes which depend upon it, though, so far as we have any means ofjudging, they appear tolerably correct. 

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

Date Station Latitude. Longitude. 

1842 Deg. Min. Sec. Deg. Min. Sec. 

May 27 St. Louis, residence of Colonel Brunt, . .. .. .. 38 37 34June 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 47July 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 29Aug. 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 24Sept 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 15Oct. 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 of1842, which I had the honor to conduct, with the surveys of CommanderWilkes on the coast of the Pacific ocean, so as to give a connected surveyof the interior of our continent, I proceeded to the Great West early inthe spring of 1843, and arrived, on the 17th of May, at the little town ofKansas, on the Missouri frontier, near the junction of the Kansas riverwith the Missouri river, where I was detained near two weeks in completingthe necessary preparations for the extended explorations which myinstructions contemplated. 

My party consisted principally of Creole and Canadian French, andAmericans, amounting in all to thirty-nine men; among whom you willrecognise several of those who were with me in my first expedition, andwho have been favorably brought to your notice in a former report. Mr. Thomas Fitzpatrick, whom many years of hardship and exposure, in thewestern territories, had rendered familiar with a portion of the countryit was designed to explore, had been selected as our guide; and Mr. Charles Preuss, who had been my assistant in a previous journey, was againassociated with me in the same capacity on the present expedition. Agreeably to your directions, Mr. Theodore Talbot, of Washington city, hadbeen 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 ofSpringfield, Massachusetts, who availed himself of our overland journey tovisit the Sandwich Islands and China, by way of Fort Vancouver. 

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

The party was generally armed with Hall's carbines, which with a brasstwelve-pound howitzer, had been furnished to me from the United Statesarsenal at St. Louis, agreeably to the orders of Colonel S. W. Kearney, commanding the third military division. Three men were especially detailedfor the management of this piece, under the charge of Louis Zindel, anative of Germany, who had been nineteen years a non-commissioned officerof artillery in the Prussian army, and regularly instructed in the dutiesof his profession. The camp equipage and provisions were transported intwelve carts, drawn each by two mules; and a light covered wagon, mountedon 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 conformityto your general instructions, to vary the route to the Rocky mountainsfrom that followed in 1842. The route was then up the valley of the GreatPlatte river to the South Pass, in north latitude 42°; the route nowdetermined on was up the valley of the Kansas river, and to the head ofthe Arkansas river, and to some pass in the mountains, if any could befound, at the sources of that river. 

By making this deviation from the former route, the problem of a new roadto Oregon and California, in a climate more genial, might be solved; and abetter knowledge obtained of an important river, and the country itdrained, while the great object of the expedition would find its point ofcommencement at the termination of the former, which was at that greatgate in the ridge of the Rocky mountains called the South Pass, and on thelofty peak of the mountain which overlooks it, deemed the highest peak inthe ridge, and from the opposite side of which four great rivers taketheir 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, rendereddisagreeably cold by incessant rain, encamped about four miles beyond thefrontier, on the verge of the great prairies. 

Resuming our journey on the 31st, after the delay of a day to complete ourequipment and furnish ourselves with some of the comforts of civilizedlife, we encamped in the evening at Elm Grove, in company with severalemigrant wagons, constituting a party which was proceeding to UpperCalifornia, under the direction of Mr. J. B. Childs, of Missouri. Thewagons were variously freighted with goods, furniture, and farmingutensils, containing among other things an entire set of machinery for amill which Mr. Childs designed erecting on the waters of the Sacramentoriver, emptying into the bay of San Francisco. 

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

JUNE. 

From Elm Grove, our route until the third of June was nearly the same asthat described to you in 1842. Trains of wagons were almost constantly insight; giving to the road a populous and animated appearance, although thegreater portion of the emigrants were collected at the crossing, oralready on their march beyond the Kansas river. Leaving at the ford theusual emigrant road to the mountains, we continued our route along thesouthern side of the Kansas, where we found the country much more brokenthan on the northern side of the river, and where our progress was muchdelayed by the numerous small streams, which obliged us to make frequentbridges. On the morning of the 4th we crossed a handsome stream, called bythe Indians Otter creek, about 130 feet wide, where a flat stratum oflimestone, which forms the bed, made an excellent ford. We met here asmall party of Kansas and Delaware Indians, the latter returning from ahunting and trapping expedition on the upper waters of the river; and onthe heights above were five or six Kansas women, engaged in diggingprairie potatoes, (_psoralea esculenta_. ) On the afternoon of the6th, whilst busily engaged in crossing a wooded stream, we were throwninto a little confusion by the sudden arrival of Maxwell, who entered thecamp at full speed at the head of a war party of Osage Indians, with gayred blankets, and heads shaved to the scalp lock. They had run him adistance of about nine miles, from a creek on which we had encamped theday previous, and to which he had returned in search of a runaway horsebelonging to Mr. Dwight, which had taken the homeward road, carrying withhim saddle, bridle, and holster-pistols. The Osages were probably ignorantof our strength, and, when they charged into the camp, drove off a numberof our best horses; but we were fortunately well mounted, and, after ahard chase of seven or eight miles, succeeded in recovering them all. Thisaccident, which occasioned delay and trouble, and threatened danger andloss, and broke down some good horses at the start, and actuallyendangered the expedition, was a first fruit of having gentlemen incompany--very estimable, to be sure, but who are not trained to the careand vigilance and self-dependence which such an expedition required, andwho are not subject to the orders which enforce attention and exertion. Wearrived on the 8th at the mouth of the Smoky-hill fork, which is theprincipal southern branch of the Kansas; forming here, by its junctionwith the Republican, or northern branch, the main Kansas river. Neitherstream was fordable, and the necessity of making a raft, together with badweather, detained us here until the morning of the 11th; when we resumedour journey along the Republican fork. By our observations, the junctionof the streams is in lat. 39° 30' 38", long. 96° 24' 36", and at anelevation of 926 feet above the Gulf of Mexico. For several days wecontinued to travel along the Republican, through a country beautifullywatered with numerous streams, and handsomely timbered; and rarely anincident occurred to vary the monotonous resemblance which one day on theprairies here bears to another, and which scarcely require a particulardescription. Now and then, we caught a glimpse of a small herd of elk; andoccasionally a band of antelopes, whose curiosity sometimes brought themwithin rifle range, would circle round us and then scour off into theprairies. As we advanced on our road, these became more frequent; but aswe journeyed on the line usually followed by the trapping and huntingparties of the Kansas and Delaware Indians, game of every kind continuedvery shy and wild. The bottoms which form the immediate valley of the mainriver were generally about three miles wide; having a rich soil of blackvegetable 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. Wehad been gradually and regularly ascending in our progress westward, andon the evening of the 14th, when we encamped on a little creek in thevalley of the Republican, 265 miles by our traveling road from the mouthof the Kansas, we were at an elevation of 1, 520 feet. That part of theriver where we were now encamped is called by the Indians the _BigTimber_. Hitherto our route had been laborious and extremely slow, theunusually wet spring and constant rain having so saturated the wholecountry that it was necessary to bridge every water-course, and, for daystogether, our usual march averaged only five or six miles. Finding that atsuch a rate of travel it would be impossible to comply with yourinstructions, I determined at this place to divide the party, and, leavingMr. Fitzpatrick with twenty-five men in charge of the provisions andheavier baggage of the camp, to proceed myself in advance, with a lightparty of fifteen men, taking with me the howitzer and the light wagonwhich 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 thenumerous affluents, after a few hours' travel over somewhat broken ground, we entered upon an extensive and high level prairie, on which we encampedtowards evening at a little stream, where a single dry cottonwood affordedthe necessary fuel for preparing supper. Among a variety of grasses whichto-day made their first appearance, I noticed bunch-grass, (_festuca_, ) and buffalo-grass, (_sesleria dactlyloides_. )Amorpha canescens (_lead plant_) continued the characteristic plantof the country, and a narrow-leaved _lathyrus_ occurred during themorning, in beautiful patches. _Sida coccinea_ occurred frequently, with a _psoralea_ near _psoralea floribunda_, and a number ofplants not hitherto met, just verging into bloom. The water on which wehad encamped belonged to Solomon's fort of the Smoky-hill river, alongwhose tributaries we continued to travel for several days. 

The country afforded us an excellent road, the route being generally overhigh and very level prairies; and we met with no other delay than beingfrequently obliged to bridge one of the numerous streams, which were welltimbered with ash, elm, cottonwood, and a very large oak--the latter beingoccasionally five and six feet in diameter, with a spreading summit. _Sida coccinea_ is very frequent in vermilion-colored patches on thehigh 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 onthe broken prairie bank. I remark that the leaflets close instantly to avery light touch. _Amorpha_, with the same _psoralea_, and adwarf 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 wassuddenly dispelled by the appearance of five or six buffalo bulls, forminga vanguard of immense herds, among which we were traveling a few daysafterwards. Prairie dogs were seen for the first time during the day; andwe had the good fortune to obtain an antelope for supper. Our elevationhad now increased to 1, 900 feet. _Sida coccinea_ was thecharacteristic on the creek bottoms, and buffalo grass is becomingabundant on the higher parts of the ridges. 

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

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

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

At noon, on the 23d, we descended into the valley of a principal fork ofthe Republican, a beautiful stream with a dense border of wood, consistingprincipally of varieties of ash, forty feet wide and four deep. It wasmusical with the notes of many birds, which, from the vast expanse ofsilent prairie around, seemed all to have collected here. We continuedduring the afternoon our route along the river, which was populous withprairie dogs, (the bottoms being entirely occupied with their villages, )and late in the evening encamped on its banks. The prevailing timber is ablue-foliaged ash, (_fraxinus_, near _F. Americana_, ) and ash-leaved maple. With these were _fraxinus Americana_, cottonwood, andlong-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 coveringthe face of the country. At evening we encamped within a few miles of themain Republican, on a little creek, where the air was fragrant with theperfume of _artemisia filifolia_, which we here saw for the firsttime, and which was now in bloom. Shortly after leaving our encampment onthe 26th, we found suddenly that the nature of the country had entirelychanged. Bare sand-hills everywhere surrounded us in the undulating groundalong which we were moving, and the plants peculiar to a sandy soil madetheir appearance in abundance. A few miles further we entered the valleyof a large stream, afterwards known to be the Republican fork of theKansas, whose shallow waters, with a depth of only a few inches, werespread out over a bed of yellowish white sand 600 yards wide. With theexception of one or two distant and detached groves, no timber of any kindwas to be seen; and the features of the country assumed a desertcharacter, with which the broad river, struggling for existence among thequicksands along the treeless banks, was strikingly in keeping. On theopposite side, the broken ridges assumed almost a mountainous appearance;and fording the stream, we continued on our course among these ridges, andencamped late in the evening at a little pond of very bad water, fromwhich 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 nowfor several days through a broken and dry sandy region, about 4, 000 feetabove the sea, where there were no running streams; and some anxiety wasconstantly felt on account of the uncertainty of water, which was only tobe found in small lakes that occurred occasionally among the hills. Thediscovery of these always brought pleasure to the camp, as around themwere generally green flats, which afforded abundant pasturage for ouranimals; and here we usually collected herds of the buffalo, which nowwere scattered over all the country in countless numbers. 

The soil of bare and hot sands supported a varied and exuberant growth ofplants, which were much farther advanced than we had previously foundthem, and whose showy bloom somewhat relieved the appearance of generalsterility. Crossing the summit of an elevated and continuous range ofrolling hills, on the afternoon of the 30th of June, we found ourselvesoverlooking a broad and misty valley, where, about ten miles distant, and1, 000 feet below us, the South fork of the Platte was rollingmagnificently along, swollen with the waters of the melting snows. It wasin strong and refreshing contrast with the parched country from which wehad just issued; and when, at night, the broad expanse of water grewindistinct, it almost seemed that we had pitched our tents on the shore ofthe 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 faintblue mass in the west, as the sun sank behind it; and from our camp in themorning, at the mouth of Bijou, Long's peak and the neighboring mountainsstood out into the sky, grand and luminously white, covered to their baseswith glittering snow. 

On the evening of the 3d, as we were journeying along the partiallyoverflowed bottoms of the Platte, where our passage stirred up swarms ofmusquitoes, we came unexpectedly on an Indian, who was perched upon abluff, curiously watching the movements of our caravan. He belonged to avillage of Oglallah Sioux, who had lost all their animals in the severityof the preceding winter, and were now on their way up the Bijou fork tobeg horses from the Arapahoes, who were hunting buffalo at the head ofthat 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 hadbrought 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 himin a feast which had been prepared in honor of the day. 

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

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

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

Agreeably to his own request, and in the conviction that his habits oflife and education had not qualified him to endure the hard life of avoyageur, I discharged here one of my party, Mr. Oscar Sarpy, havingfurnished him with arms and means of transportation to Fort Laramie, wherehe 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 fewhours after we also had recommenced our journey up the Platte, which wascontinuously timbered with cottonwood and willow, on a generally sandysoil. Passing on the way the remains of two abandoned forts, (one ofwhich, 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 weredifferent kinds of poultry; and there was a wreck of a promising garden, in which a considerable variety of vegetables had been in a flourishingcondition; but it had been almost entirely ruined by the recent highwaters. I remained to spend with him an agreeable hour, and set off in acold storm of rain, which was accompanied with violent thunder andlightning. We encamped immediately on the river, sixteen miles from St. Vrain's. Several Arapahoes, on their way to the village which was encampeda 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 lasteduntil morning. 

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

It required some skill in horsemanship to keep the saddle during theperformance of this ceremony, as our American horses exhibited for themthe same fear they have for a bear, or any other wild animal. Having veryfew 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 hadbeen left with the wagons in charge of Mr. Fitzpatrick, who was well knownto them as the White Head, or the Broken Hand. I saw here, as I hadremarked in an Arapaho village the preceding year, near the lodges of thechiefs; 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 evidentlyexpected, 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 routealong the mountains, which were dark, misty, and shrouded--threatening astorm; the snow peaks sometimes glittering through the clouds beyond thefirst ridge. 

We surprised a grizzly bear sauntering along the river, which, raisinghimself upon his hind legs, took a deliberate survey of us, that did notappear very satisfactory to him, and he scrambled into the river and swamto the opposite side. We halted for the night a little above Cherry creek;the evening cloudy, with many musquitoes. Some indifferent observationsplaced the camp in lat. 39° 43' 53", and chronometric long. 105° 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 amore broken country, with a gravelly and sandy surface; although theimmediate 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 Laramiefork. On our right, and apparently very near, but probably 8 or 10 milesdistant, and two or three thousand feet above us, ran the first range ofthe mountains, like a dark corniced line, in clear contrast with the greatsnowy chain which, immediately beyond, rose glittering five thousand feetabove them. We caught this morning a view of Pike's peak; but it appearedfor a moment only, as clouds rose early over the mountains, and shroudedthem in mist and rain all the day. In the first range were visible, as atthe Red Buttes on the North fork, very lofty escarpments of red rock. While traveling through this region, I remarked that always in the morningthe lofty peaks were visible and bright, but very soon small white cloudsbegan to settle around them--brewing thicker and thicker as the dayadvanced, until the afternoon, when the thunder began to roll; andinvariably at evening we had more or less of a thunder storm. At 11o'clock, and 21 miles from St. Vrain's fort, we reached a point in thissouthern fork of the Platte, where the stream is divided into three forks;two of these (one of them being much the largest) issuing directly fromthe mountains on the west, and forming, with the eastern-most branch, ariver of the plains. The elevation of this point is about 5, 500 feet abovethe sea; this river falling 2, 800 feet in a distance of 316 miles, to itsjunction with the North fork of the Platte. In this estimate, theelevation of the junction is assumed as given by our barometricalobservations 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, andwhere we halted on it to noon; quaking asp (_populus tremuloides_)was mixed with the cottonwood, and there were excellent grass and rushesfor the animals. 

During the morning there occurred many beautiful flowers, which we had nothitherto met. Among them, the common blue flowering flax made its firstappearance; and a tall and handsome species of _gilia_, with slenderscarlet flowers, which appeared yesterday for the first time, was veryfrequent to-day. 

We had found very little game since leaving the fort, and provisions beganto get unpleasantly scant, as we had had no meat for several days; buttowards sundown, when we had already made up our minds to sleep anothernight 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 campin 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 ofgame, I determined to vary our route, and proceed several camps to theeastward, in the hope of falling in with the buffalo. This route along thedividing 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 streamon which we had encamped, entering a country of picturesque and variedscenery; broken into rocky hills of singular shapes; little valleys, withpure crystal water, here leaping swiftly along, and there losing itself inthe sands; green spots of luxuriant grass, flowers of all colors, andtimber of different kinds--every thing to give it a varied beauty, exceptgame. To one of these remarkably shaped hills, having on the summit acircular flat rock two or three hundred yards in circumference, some onegave the name of Poundcake, which it has been permitted to retain, as ourhungry people seemed to think it a very agreeable comparison. In theafternoon 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'speak this morning is luminous and grand, covered from the summit, as lowdown as we can see, with glittering white. Leaving the encampment at 6o'clock, we continued our easterly course over a rolling country, near tothe high ridges, which are generally rough and rocky, with a coarseconglomerate displayed in masses, and covered with pines. The rock is veryfriable, and it is undoubtedly from its decomposition that the prairiesderive 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 theprincipal branch of the river. During the morning our route led over adark and vegetable mould, mixed with sand and gravel, the characteristicplant being _esparcette_, (_onobrychis sativa_, ) a species ofclover which is much used in certain parts of Germany for pasturage ofstock--principally hogs. It is sown on rocky waste ground, which wouldotherwise be useless, and grows very luxuriantly, requiring only a renewalof the seed about once in fifteen years. Its abundance here greatly addsto the pastoral value of this region. A species of antennaria in flowerwas very common along the line of road, and the creeks were timbered withwillow and pine. We encamped on Bijou's fork, the water of which, unlikethe clear streams we had previously crossed, is of a whitish color, andthe soil of the bottom a very hard, tough clay. There was a prairie dogvillage on the bottom, and, in the endeavor to unearth one of the littleanimals, we labored ineffectually in the tough clay until dark. Afterdescending, with a slight inclination, until it had gone the depth of twofeet, the hole suddenly turned at a sharp angle in another direction forone more foot in depth, when it again turned, taking an ascendingdirection to the next nearest hole. I have no doubt that all their littlehabitations communicate with each other. The greater part of the peoplewere sick to-day, and I was inclined to attribute their indisposition tothe meat of the bull which had been killed the previous day. 

11th. --There were no indications of buffalo having been recently in theneighborhood; and, unwilling to travel farther eastward, I turned thismorning to the southward, up the valley of Bijou. _Esparcette_occurred universally, and among the plants on the river I noticed, for thefirst time during this journey, a few small bushes of the _absinthe_of the voyageurs, which is commonly used for firewood, (_artemesiatridentata_. ) Yesterday and to-day the road has been ornamented withthe showy bloom of a beautiful lupinus, a characteristic in many parts ofthe mountain region, on which were generally great numbers of an insectwith very bright colors, (_litta vesicatoria_. )

As we were riding quietly along, eagerly searching every hollow in searchof game, we discovered, at a little distance in the prairie, a largegrizzly bear, so busily engaged in digging roots that he did not perceiveus until we were galloping down a little hill fifty yards from him, whenhe charged upon us with such sudden energy that several of us came nearlosing our saddles. Being wounded, he commenced retreating to a rocky pinyridge near by, from which we were not able to cut him off, and we enteredthe 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 bearcharging among the horses. He did not fall until after he had received sixrifle balls. He was miserably poor, and added nothing to our stock ofprovisions. 

We followed the stream to its head in a broken ridge, which, according tothe barometer, was about 7, 500 feet above the sea. This is a pinyelevation, into which the prairies are gathered, and from which the watersflow, in almost every direction, to the Arkansas, Platte, and Kansasrivers; the latter stream having here its remotest sources. Althoughsomewhat rocky and broken, and covered with pines, in comparison with theneighboring mountains, it scarcely forms an interruption to the greatprairie plains which sweep up to their bases. 

We had an excellent view of Pike's peak from this camp, at the distance offorty miles. This mountain barrier presents itself to travelers on theplains, which sweep almost directly to its bases--an immense andcomparatively smooth and grassy prairie, in very strong contrast with theblack masses of timber, and the glittering snow above them. Withoccasional exceptions, comparatively so very small as not to requiremention, these prairies are everywhere covered with a close and vigorousgrowth of a great variety of grasses, among which the most abundant is thebuffalo grass, (_sesleria dactyloides_. ) Between the Platte andArkansas rivers, that part of this region which forms the basin drained bythe waters of the Kansas, with which our operations made us moreparticularly acquainted, is based upon a formation of calcareous rocks. The soil of all this country is excellent, admirably adapted toagricultural purposes, and would support a large agricultural and pastoralpopulation. A glance at the map, along our several lines of travel, willshow you that this plain is watered by many streams. Throughout thewestern half of the plain, these are shallow, with sandy beds, becomingdeeper as they reach the richer lands approaching the Missouri river; theygenerally have bottom lands, bordered by bluffs varying from fifty to fivehundred feet in height. In all this region the timber is entirely confinedto 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 consistsentirely of various species of cottonwood, which deserves to be called thetree 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 plainis occupied by the Sioux, Arapaho, and Cheyenne nations, with the Pawneesand other half-civilized tribes in its eastern limits, for whom theintermediate country is a war-ground, and you will have a tolerablycorrect idea of the appearance and condition of the country. Descending asomewhat precipitous and rocky hillside among the pines, which rarelyappear elsewhere than on the ridge, we encamped at its foot, where therewere several springs, which you will find laid down upon the map as one ofthe extreme sources of the Smoky Hill fork of the Kansas. From this placethe view extended over the Arkansas valley, and the Spanish peaks in thesouth beyond. As the greater part of the men continued sick, I encampedhere for the day, and ascertained conclusively, from experiments onmyself, 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 wereprotected by a precipice entirely beyond the reach of a rifle-ball. Theevening was tolerably clear, with a temperature at sunset of 63°. Elevation of the camp seven thousand and three hundred feet. 

Turning the next day to the southwest, we reached, in the course of themorning, the wagon-road to the settlements on the Arkansas river, andencamped in the afternoon on the _Fontaine-qui-bouit_ (or BoilingSpring) river, where it was fifty feet wide, with a swift current. Iafterwards found that the spring and river owe their names to the bubblingof the effervescing gas in the former, and not to the temperature of thewater, which is cold. During the morning a tall species of _gilia_, with a slender white flower, was characteristic; and, in the latter partof the day, another variety of _esparcette_, (wild clover, ) havingthe 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 abeautiful scene. Thermometer, at sunset, was 69°, and our elevation abovethe sea 5, 800 feet. 

13th. --The morning was clear, with a northwesterly breeze, and thethermometer at sunrise at 46°. 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 extremelygood lodge-trail, which issues by the head of this stream from the bayouSalade, a high mountain valley behind Pike's peak. The soil along the roadwas sandy and gravelly, and the river well timbered. We halted to noonunder the shade of some fine large cottonwoods, our animals luxuriating onrushes, (_equisetum hyemale_, ) which, along this river, wereremarkably abundant. A variety of cactus made its appearance, and amongseveral strange plants were numerous and beautiful clusters of a plantresembling _mirabilis jalapa_, with a handsome convolvulus I had nothitherto seen, (_calystegia_. ) In the afternoon we passed near theencampment of a hunter named Maurice, who had been out into the plains inpursuit of buffalo calves, a number of which I saw among some domesticcattle near his lodge. Shortly afterwards, a party of mountaineersgalloped up to us--fine-looking and hardy men, dressed in skins, andmounted on good fat horses; among them were several Connecticut men, aportion of Wyeth's party, whom I had seen the year before, and others weremen 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 leftbank of the Arkansas, is a _pueblo_, (as the Mexicans call theircivilized Indian villages, ) where a number of mountaineers, who hadmarried Spanish women in the valley of Taos, had collected together andoccupied themselves in farming, carrying on at the same time a desultoryIndian trade. They were principally Americans, and treated us with all therude hospitality their situation admitted; but as all commercialintercourse with New Mexico was now interrupted, in consequence of Mexicandecrees to that effect, there was nothing to be had in the way ofprovisions. They had, however, a fine stock of cattle, and furnished us anabundance of excellent milk. I learned here that Maxwell, in company withtwo other men, had started for Taos on the morning of the 9th, but that hewould probably fall into the hands of the Utah Indians, commonly calledthe _Spanish Yutes_. As Maxwell had no knowledge of their being inthe vicinity when he crossed the Arkansas, his chance of escape was verydoubtful; but I did not entertain much apprehension for his life, havinggreat confidence in his prudence and courage. I was further informed thatthere had been a popular tumult among the _pueblos_, or civilizedIndians, residing near Taos, against the "_foreigners_" of thatplace; in which they had plundered their houses and ill-treated theirfamilies. Among those whose property had been destroyed, was Mr. Beaubien, father-in-law of Maxwell, from whom I had expected to obtain supplies, andwho had been obliged to make his escape to Santa Fé. 

By this position of affairs, our expectation of obtaining supplies fromTaos was cut off. I had here the satisfaction to meet our good buffalo-hunter of 1842, Christopher Carson, whose services I considered myselffortunate to secure again; and as a reinforcement of mules was absolutelynecessary, I dispatched him immediately, with an account of ournecessities, to Mr. Charles Bent, whose principal post is on the Arkansasriver, about seventy-five miles below _Fontaine-qui-bouit_. He wasdirected to proceed from that post by the nearest route across thecountry, and meet me, with what animals he should be able to obtain, atSt. Vrain's fort. I also admitted into the party Charles Towns, a nativeof St. Louis, a serviceable man, with many of the qualities of a goodvoyageur. According to our observations, the latitude of the mouth of theriver is 38° 15' 23", its longitude 104° 58' 30", and its elevation abovethe 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 statedthat I would wait for him at St. Vrain's fort, until the morning of the26th, in the event that he should succeed in his commission. Our directionwas up the Boiling Spring river, it being my intention to visit thecelebrated springs from which the river takes its name, and which are onits upper waters, at the foot of Pike's peak. Our animals fared well whilewe were on this stream, there being everywhere a great abundance of_prele_. _Ipomea leptophylla_ in bloom, was a characteristicplant along the river, generally in large bunches, with two to fiveflowers on each. Beautiful clusters of the plant resembling _mirabilisjalapa_ were numerous, and _glycyrrhiza lepidota_ was acharacteristic of the bottoms. Currants nearly ripe were abundant, andamong the shrubs which covered the bottom was a very luxuriant growth ofchenopodiaceous shrubs, four to six feet high. On the afternoon of the17th we entered among the broken ridges at the foot of the mountains, where the river made several forks. Leaving the camp to follow slowly, Irode ahead in the afternoon in search of the springs. In the meantime, theclouds, which had been gathered all the afternoon over the mountains, began to roll down their sides; and a storm so violent burst upon me, thatit appeared I had entered the storehouse of the thunder-storms. Icontinued, however, to ride along up the river until about sunset, and wasbeginning to be doubtful of finding the springs before the next day, whenI came suddenly upon a large smooth rock, about twenty yards in diameter, where the water from several springs was bubbling and boiling up in themidst of a white incrustation, with which it had covered a portion of therock. As this did not correspond with the description given the by thehunters, I did not stop to taste the water, but dismounting, walked alittle way up the river, and, passing through a narrow thicket ofshrubbery 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 wasstartled by my approach, and, springing across the river, bounded off upthe mountain. In the upper part of the rock, which had apparently beenformed by deposition, was a beautiful white basin, overhung by currantbushes, in which the cold clear water bubbled up, kept in constant motionby the escaping gas, and overflowing the rock, which it had almostentirely covered with a smooth crust of glistening white. I had all dayrefrained from drinking, reserving myself for the spring; and as I couldnot well be more wet than the rain had already made me, I lay down by theside of the basin, and drank heartily of the delightful water. The springis situated immediately at the foot of lofty mountains, beautifullytimbered, which sweep closely round, shutting up the little valley in akind of cove. As it was beginning to grow dark, I rode quickly down theriver, on which I found the camp a few miles below. 

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

Carbonate of lime, ----------92. 25Carbonate of magnesia, ------ 1. 21

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

Silica, --------------------- 1. 50Vegetable matter, ----------- . 20Moisture and loss, ---------- 4. 61 ______ 100. 00

At eleven o'clock, when the temperature of the air was 73°, that of thewater in this was 60. 5°; and that of the upper spring, which issued fromthe flat rock, more exposed to the sun, was 69°. At sunset, when thetemperature of the air was 66°, that of the lower springs was 58°, andthat of the upper 61°. 

19th. --A beautiful and clear morning, with a slight breeze from thenorthwest; the temperature of the air at sunrise being 57. 5°. At this timethe temperature of the lower spring was 57. 8°, springs was 58°, and thatof the upper 54. 3°. 

The trees in the neighborhood were birch, willow, pine, and an oakresembling _quercus alba_. In the shrubbery along the river arecurrant bushes, (_ribes_, ) of which the fruit has a singular pinyflavor; and on the mountain side, in a red gravelly soil, is a remarkableconiferous tree, (perhaps an _abies_, ) having the leaves singularlylong, broad and scattered, with bushes of _spiraea ariaefolia_. Byour observations, this place is 6, 350 feet above the sea, in latitude 38°52' 10", and longitude 105° 22' 45". 

Resuming our journey on this morning, we descended the river, in order toreach the mouth of the eastern fork, which I proposed to ascend. The leftbank of the river here is very much broken. There is a handsome littlebottom on the right, and both banks are exceedingly picturesque--strata ofred rock, in nearly perpendicular walls, crossing the valley from north tosouth. About three miles below the springs, on the right bank of theriver, is a nearly perpendicular limestone rock, presenting a uniformlyunbroken surface, twenty to forty feet high, containing very great numbersof 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 onthe stream were parallel strata, consisting of a compact somewhatcrystalline limestone, and argillaceous bituminous limestone in thinlayers. During the morning, we traveled up the eastern fork of the_Fontaine-qui-bouit_ river, our road being roughened by frequent deepgullies timbered with pine, and halted to noon on a small branch of thestream, 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-whiteconglomerate rock, one of which was about twenty feet high, and two feetin diameter. They are surmounted by slabs of a dark ferruginousconglomerate, forming black caps, and adding very much to their columnareffect at a distance. This rock is very destructible by the action of theweather, and the hill, of which they formerly constituted a part, isentirely abraded. 

A shaft of the gun-carriage was broken in the afternoon; and we made anearly halt, the stream being from twelve to twenty feet wide, with clearwater. 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°, andour elevation above the sea was. 6, 530 feet. 

20th. --This morning (as we generally found the mornings under thesemountains) was very clear and beautiful, and the air cool and pleasant, with the thermometer at 44°. We continued our march up the stream, along agreen sloping bottom; between pine hills on the one hand; and the mainBlack hills on the other; towards the ridge which separates the waters ofthe 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 oneof the highly characteristic plants, and a bright-looking flower(_gaillardia aristata_) was very frequent; but the most abundantplant along our road today, was _geranium maculatum_, which is thecharacteristic plant on this portion of the diving grounds. Crossing tothe waters of the Platte, fields of blue flax added to the magnificence ofthis mountain garden; this was occasionally four feet in height, which wasa luxuriance of growth that I rarely saw this almost universal plantattain 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 encampmentnear Poundcake rock, on that fork of the river which we had ascended onthe 8th of July. Our animals enjoyed the abundant rushes this evening, asthe flies were so bad among the pines that they had been much harassed. Adeer was killed here this evening; and again the evening was overcast, anda collection of brilliant red clouds in the west was followed by thecustomary squall of rain. 

_Achillea millefolium_ (milfoil) was among the characteristic plantsof the river bottoms to-day. This was one of the most common plants duringthe 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 twoprincipal branches of the upper Arkansas, 75 miles in length, and entirelycompleted our survey of the South fork of the Platte, to the extremesources of that portion of the river which belongs to the plains, andheads in the broken hills of the Arkansas dividing ridge, at the foot ofthe mountains. That portion of its waters which were collected among thesemountains, 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 trueand reliable friend, Kit Carson, who had brought with him ten good mules, with the necessary pack-saddles. Mr. Fitzpatrick, who had often enduredevery extremity of want during the course of his mountain life, and knewwell the value of provisions in this country, had watched over our stockwith 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 thefort, did not go far among forty men. Mr. Fitzpatrick had been here aweek, 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 intolerably good condition. 

I had been able to obtain no certain information in regard to thecharacter of the passes in this portion of the Rocky Mountain range, whichhad always been represented as impracticable for carriages, but theexploration of which was incidentally contemplated by my instructions, with the view of finding some convenient point of passage for the road ofemigration, which would enable it to reach, on a more direct line, theusual ford of the Great Colorado--a place considered as determined by thenature of the country beyond that river. It is singular, that immediatelyat the foot of the mountains, I could find no one sufficiently acquaintedwith them to guide us to the plains at their western base; but the race oftrappers, who formerly lived in their recesses, has almost entirelydisappeared--dwindled to a few scattered individuals--some one or two ofwhom are regularly killed in the course of each year by the Indians. Youwill remember, that in the previous year I brought with me to theirvillage near this post, and hospitably treated on the way, severalCheyenne Indians, whom I met on the Lower Platte. Shortly after theirarrival here, these were out with a party of Indians, (themselves theprincipal men, ) which discovered a few trappers in the neighboringmountains, whom they immediately murdered, although one of them had beennearly thirty years in the country, and was perfectly well known, as hehad grown gray among them. 

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

Into this uncertain and dangerous region, small parties of three or fourtrappers, who now could collect together, rarely ventured; andconsequently it was seldom visited and little known. Having determined totry the passage by a pass through a spur of the mountains made by the_Cache-à-la-Poudre_ river, which rises in the high bed of mountainsaround Long's peak, I thought it advisable to avoid any encumbrance whichwould occasion detention, and accordingly again separated the party intotwo divisions--one of which, under the command of Mr. Fitzpatrick, wasdirected to cross the plains to the mouth of Laramie river, and, continuing thence its route along the usual emigrant road, meet me at FortHall, a post belonging to the Hudson Bay Company, and situated on Snakeriver, as it is commonly called in the Oregon Territory, although betterknown to us as Lewis's fork of the Columbia. The latter name is thererestricted to one of the upper forks of the river. 

Our Delaware Indians having determined to return to their homes, it becamenecessary to provide this party with a good hunter; and I accordinglyengaged in that capacity Alexander Godey, a young man about 25 years ofage, who had been in this country six or seven years, all of which timehad been actively employed in hunting for the support of the posts, or insolitary trading expeditions among the Indians. In courage andprofessional skill he was a formidable rival to Carson, and constantlyafterwards was among the best and most efficient of the party, and indifficult situations was of incalculable value. Hiram Powers, one of themen belonging to Mr. Fitzpatrick's party, was discharged at this place. 

A French _engagé_, at Lupton's fort, had been shot in the back on the4th of July, and died during our absence to the Arkansas. The wife of themurdered man, an Indian woman of the Snake nation, desirous, like Naomi ofold, to return to her people, requested and obtained permission to travelwith my party to the neighborhood of Bear river, where she expected tomeet with some of their villages. Happier than the Jewish widow, shecarried with her two children, pretty little half-breeds, who added muchto the liveliness of the camp. Her baggage was carried on five or sixpack-horses; and I gave her a small tent, for which I no longer had anyuse, as I had procured a lodge at the fort. 

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

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

By observation, the latitude of the post is 40° 16' 33", and its longitude105° 12' 23", depending, with all the other longitudes along this portionof the line, upon a subsequent occultation of September 13, 1843, to whichthey are referred by the chronometer. Its distance from Kansas landing, bythe road we traveled, (which, it will be remembered, was very windingalong 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 notsensibly change during the ensuing month, and remained nearly constantduring the remainder of our journey across the continent. This was therate used in referring to St. Vrain's fort, the longitude between thatplace and the mouth of the _Fontaine-qui-bouit_. 

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

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

The following days we continued our march westward over comparativeplains, and, fording the Cache-à-la-Poudre on the morning of the 28th, entered the Black hills, and nooned on this stream in the mountains beyondthem. Passing over a fine large bottom in the afternoon, we reached aplace 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 theriver again about dusk. A little labor, however, would remove thisdifficulty, and render the road to this point a very excellent one. Theevening closed in dark with rain, and the mountains looked gloomy. 

29th. --Leaving our encampment about seven in the morning, we traveleduntil three in the afternoon along the river, which, for the distance ofabout 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 ornine times, at difficult, deep, and rocky fords, the stream running withgreat force, swollen by the rains--a true mountain torrent, only forty orfifty feet wide. It was a mountain valley of the narrowest kind--almost achasm--and the scenery very wild and beautiful. Towering mountains roseround about; their sides sometimes dark with forests of pine, andsometimes with lofty precipices, washed by the river; while below, as ifthey indemnified themselves in luxuriance for the scanty space, the greenriver-bottom was covered with a wilderness of flowers, their tall spikessometimes rising above our heads as we rode among them. A profusion ofblossoms on a white flowering vine, (_clematis lasianthi_) which wasabundant along the river, contrasted handsomely with the green foliage ofthe trees. The mountains appeared to be composed of a greenish-gray andred granite, which in some places appeared to be in a state ofdecomposition, making a red soil. 

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

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

By the great quantity of snow visible among them, it had probably snowedheavily 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 ahigh country, gradually ascending towards a range of _buttes_, orhigh hills covered with pines, which forms the dividing ridge between thewaters we had left and those of Laramie river. 

Late in the evening we encamped at a spring of cold water, near the summitof the ridge, having increased our elevation to 7, 520 feet. During the daywe had traveled 24 miles. By some indifferent observations, our latitudeis 41° 02' 19". A species of _hedeome_ was characteristic along thewhole 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 thedifferent character of the climate on opposite sides of the Rocky Mountainrange. The vast prairie plain on the east is like the ocean; the rain andclouds from the constantly evaporating snow of the mountains rushing downinto the heated air of the plains, on which you will have occasion toremark the frequent storms of rain we encountered during our journey. 

31st. --The morning was clear; temperature 48°. A fine rolling road, amongpiny and grassy hills, brought us this morning into a large trail where anIndian village had recently passed. The weather was pleasant and cool; wewere disturbed by neither musquitoes nor flies; and the country wascertainly extremely beautiful. The slopes and broad ravines wereabsolutely covered with fields of flowers of the most exquisitelybeautiful colors. Among those which had not hitherto made theirappearance, and which here were characteristic, was a new_delphinium_, of a green and lustrous metallic blue color, mingledwith compact fields of several bright-colored varieties of_astragalus_, which were crowded together in splendid profusion. Thistrail conducted us, through a remarkable defile, to a little timberedcreek, up which we wound our way, passing by a singular and massive wallof dark-red granite. The formation of the country is a red feldspathicgranite, overlaying a decomposing mass of the same rock, forming the soilof all this region, which everywhere is red and gravelly, and appears tobe of a great floral fertility. 

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

A meridian observation of the sun placed us in latitude 41° 04' 06". Inthe evening we encamped on the Laramie river, which is here very thinlytimbered with scattered groups of cottonwood at considerable intervals. From our camp, we are able to distinguish the gorges, in which are thesources of Cache-à-la-Poudre and Laramie rivers; and the Medicine Bowmountain, towards the point of which we are directing our course thisafternoon, has been in sight the greater part of the day. By observationthe latitude was 41° 15' 02", and longitude 106° 16' 54". The samebeautiful flora continued till about four in the afternoon, when itsuddenly disappeared, with the red soil, which became sandy, and of awhitish-gray color. The evening was tolerably clear; temperature at sunset64°. The day's journey was 30 miles. 

AUGUST. 

1st. --The morning was calm and clear, with sunrise temperature at 42°. Wetraveled to-day over a plain, or open rolling country, at the foot of theMedicine Bow mountain; the soil in the morning being sandy, with fragmentsof rock abundant, and in the afternoon, when we approached closer to themountain, so stony that we made but little way. The beautiful plants ofyesterday reappeared occasionally; flax in bloom occurred during themorning, and esparcette in luxuriant abundance was a characteristic of thestony ground in the afternoon. The camp was roused into a littleexcitement by a chase after a buffalo bull, and an encounter with a warparty of Sioux and Cheyenne Indians about 30 strong. Hares and antelopewere seen during the day, and one of the latter was killed. The Laramiepeak was in sight this afternoon. The evening was clear, with scatteredclouds; temperature 62°. The day's journey was 26 miles. 

2d. --Temperature at sunrise 52°, 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 spotslike lawns between the patches of snow among the pines, and here and thereon the heights. Our route below lay over a comparative plain, covered withthe same brilliant vegetation, and the day was clear and pleasantly cool. During the morning, we crossed many streams, clear and rocky, and broadgrassy valleys, of a strong black soil, washed down from the mountains, and producing excellent pasturage. These were timbered with the red willowand long-leaved cottonwood, mingled with aspen, as we approached themountain more nearly towards noon. _Esparcette_ was a characteristic, and flax occurred frequently in bloom. We halted at noon on the mostwestern fork of Laramie river--a handsome stream about sixty feet wide andtwo feet deep, with clear water and a swift current, over a bed composedentirely 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 thesurrounding timber were three strong forts, that appeared to have beenrecently occupied. At this place I became first acquainted with the_yampah_, (_anethum graveolens_, ) which I found our Snake womanengaged in digging in the low timbered bottom of the creek. Among theIndians along the Rocky Mountains, and more particularly among theShoshonee or Snake Indians, in whose territory it is very abundant, thisis considered the best among the roots used for food. To us it was aninteresting plant--a little link between the savage and civilized life. Here, among the Indians, its root is a common article of food, which theytake pleasure in offering to strangers; while with us, in a considerableportion of America and Europe, the seeds are used to flavor soup. It growsmore abundantly, and in greater luxuriance, on one of the neighboringtributaries of the Colorado, than in any other part of this region; and onthat stream, to which the Snakes are accustomed to resort every year toprocure a supply of their favorite plant, they have bestowed the name of_Yampah_ river. Among the trappers it is generally known as LittleSnake river; but in this and other instances, where it illustrated thehistory of the people inhabiting the country, I have preferred to retainon the map the aboriginal name. By a meridional observation, the latitudeis 41° 45' 59"

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

This shrub now began to make its appearance in compact fields; and we wereabout to quit for a long time this country of excellent pasturage andbrilliant flowers. Ten or twelve buffalo bulls were seen during theafternoon; and we were surprised by the appearance of a large red ox. Wegathered around him as if he had been an old acquaintance, with all ourdomestic feelings as much awakened as if we had come in sight of an oldfarm-house. He had probably made his escape from some party of emigrantson Green river; and, with a vivid remembrance of some old green field, bewas pursuing the straightest course for the frontier that the countryadmitted. We carried him along with us as a prize; and, when it was foundin 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 faramong the Indians. I have been told by Mr. Bent's people of an ox born andraised 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 ontheir way out, and saw occasionally places where he had eaten and laiddown to rest; but did not see him for about 700 miles, when they overtookhim on the road, traveling along to the fort, having unaccountably escapedIndians and every other mischance. 

We encamped at evening on the principal fork of Medicine Bow river, nearto an isolated mountain called the Medicine _Butte_, which appearedto be about 1, 800 feet above the plain, from which it rises abruptly, andwas still white, nearly to its base, with a great quantity of snow. Thestreams were timbered with the long-leaved, cottonwood and red willow; andduring the afternoon a species of onion was very abundant. I obtained herean immersion of the first satellite of Jupiter, which, corresponding verynearly with the chronometer, placed us in longitude 106° 47' 25". Thelatitude, by observation, was 41° 37' 16"; elevation above the sea, 7, 800feet, 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 fewmiles' travel entered the pass of the Medicine _Butte_, through whichled 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 wereobliged to clear a way through groves of aspens, which generally madetheir appearance when we reached elevated regions. According to thebarometer, this was 8, 300 feet; and while we were detained in opening aroad, I obtained a meridional observation of the sun, which gave 41° 35'48" for the latitude of the pass. The Medicine _Butte_ is isolated bya small tributary of the North fork of the Platte, but the mountainsapproach each other very nearly; the stream running at their feet. On thesouth they are smooth, with occasional streaks of pine; but the butteitself is ragged, with escarpments of red feldspathic granite, and darkwith pines; the snow reaching from the summit to within a few hundred feetof the trail. The granite here was more compact and durable than that inthe formation which we had passed through a few days before to theeastward of Laramie. Continuing our way over a plain on the west side ofthe pass, where the road was terribly rough with artemisia, we made ourevening encampment on the creek, where it took a northern direction, unfavorably to the course we were pursuing. Bands of buffalo werediscovered as we came down upon the plain; and Carson brought into thecamp a cow which had the fat on the fleece two inches thick. Even in thiscountry of rich pasturage and abundant game, it is rare that a hunterchances upon a finer animal. Our voyage had already been long, but thiswas the first good buffalo meat we had obtained. We traveled to-day 26miles. 

4th. --The morning was clear and calm; and, leaving the creek, we traveledtowards the North fork of the Platte, over a plain which was renderedrough and broken by ravines. With the exception of some thin grasses, thesandy soil here was occupied almost exclusively by artemisia, with itsusual turpentine odor. We had expected to meet with some difficulty incrossing the river, but happened to strike it where there was a veryexcellent ford, and halted to noon on the left bank, two hundred milesfrom St. Vrain's fort. The hunters brought in pack-animals loaded withfine meat. According to our imperfect knowledge of the country, thereshould 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 theexpectation of encamping upon it in the evening. The ground proved to beso exceedingly difficult, broken up into hills, terminating in escarpmentsand broad ravines, five hundred or six hundred feet deep, with sides soprecipitous that we could scarcely find a place to descend, that, towardssunset, I turned directly in towards the river, and, after nightfall, entered a sort of ravine. We were obliged to feel our way, and clear aroad in the darkness; the surface being much broken, and the progress ofthe carriages being greatly obstructed by the artemisia, which had aluxuriant growth of four to six feet in height. We had scrambled alongthis gulley for several hours, during which we had knocked off thecarriage-lamps, broken a thermometer and several small articles, when, fearing to lose something of more importance, I halted for the night atten o'clock. Our animals were turned down towards the river, that theymight pick up what little grass they could find; and after a littlesearch, some water was found in a small ravine, and improved by digging. We lighted up the ravine with fires of artemisia, and about midnight satdown to a supper which we were hungry enough to find delightful--althoughthe buffalo-meat was crusted with sand, and the coffee was bitter with thewormwood taste of the artemisia leaves. 

A successful day's hunt had kept our hunters occupied until late, and theyslept out, but rejoined us at daybreak, when, finding ourselves only abouta mile from the river, we followed the ravine down, and camped in acottonwood grove on a beautiful grassy bottom, where our animalsindemnified themselves for the scanty fare of the past night. It was quitea pretty and pleasant place; a narrow strip of prairie, about five hundredyards long, terminated at the ravine where we entered by high precipitoushills closing in upon the river, and at the upper end by a ridge of lowrolling hills. 

In the precipitous bluffs were displayed a succession of strata containingfossil vegetable remains, and several beds of coal. In some of the bedsthe coal did not appear to be perfectly mineralized, and in some of theseams it was compact, and remarkably lustrous. In these latter places, there were also thin layers of a very fine white salts, in powder. As wehad a large supply of meat in the camp, which it was necessary to dry, andthe surrounding country appeared to be well stocked with buffalo, which itwas probable, after a day or two, we would not see again until our returnto the Mississippi waters, I determined to make here a provision of driedmeat, which would be necessary for our subsistence in the region we wereabout entering, which was said to be nearly destitute of game. Scaffoldswere accordingly soon erected, fires made, and the meat cut into thinslices to be dried; and all were busily occupied, when the camp was throwninto a sudden tumult, by a charge from about seventy mounted Indians, overthe low hills at the upper end of the little bottom. Fortunately, theguard, who was between them and our animals, had caught a glimpse of anIndian'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 intothe 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 wasoccupied by our people, and the Indians brought to a sudden halt, whichthey made in time to save themselves from a howitzer shot, which wouldundoubtedly have been very effective in such a compact body; and furtherproceedings were interrupted by their signs for peace. They proved to be awar party of Arapaho and Cheyenne Indians, and informed us that they hadcharged upon the camp under the belief that we were hostile Indians, andhad discovered their mistake only at the moment of the attack--an excusewhich policy required us to receive as true, though under the fullconviction that the display of our little howitzer, and our favorableposition in the grove, certainly saved our horses, and probably ourselves, from their marauding intentions. They had been on a war party, and hadbeen defeated, and were consequently in the state of mind which aggravatestheir innate thirst for plunder and blood. Their excuse, however, wastaken in good part, and the usual evidences of friendship interchanged. The pipe went round, provisions were spread, and the tobacco and goodsfurnished 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, oneof whose villages they had surprised, at Bridger's fort, on Ham's fork ofGreen river, (in the absence of the men, who were engaged in an antelopesurround, ) and succeeded in carrying off their horses, and taking severalscalps. News of the attack reached the Snakes immediately, who pursued andovertook them, and recovered their horses; and, in the running fight whichensued, 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 thehorses they had brought off were the property of the whites at the fort. After remaining until nearly sunset, they took their departure; and theexcitement which their arrival had afforded subsided into our usual quiet, a little enlivened by the vigilance rendered necessary by the neighborhoodof our uncertain visiters. At noon the thermometer was at 75°, at sunset70°, and the evening clear. Elevation above the sea 6, 820 feet; latitude41° 36' 00"; longitude 107° 22' 27". 

6th. --At sunrise the thermometer was 46°, the morning being clear andcalm. We traveled to-day over an extremely rugged country, barren anduninteresting--nothing to be seen but artemisia bushes; and, in theevening, found a grassy spot among the hills, kept green by severalsprings, where we encamped late. Within a few hundred yards was a verypretty little stream of clear cool water, whose green banks lookedrefreshing among the dry, rocky hills. The hunters brought in a fatmountain 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 aluxuriant growth that it was difficult and laborious for a man on foot toforce 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 andPacific oceans, and extending to a considerable distance southward, fromthe neighborhood of the Table rock, at the southern side of the SouthPass. Though broken up into rugged and rocky hills of a dry and barrennature, it has nothing of a mountainous character; the small streams whichoccasionally occur belonging neither to the Platte nor the Colorado, butlosing themselves either in the sand or in small lakes. From an eminence, in the afternoon, a mountainous range became visible in the north, inwhich were recognised some rocky peaks belonging to the range of the SweetWater valley; and, determining to abandon any further attempt to strugglethrough this almost impracticable country, we turned our course directlynorth, towards a pass in the valley of the Sweet Water river. A shaft ofthe gun-carriage was broken during the afternoon, causing a considerabledelay; and it was late in an unpleasant evening before we succeeded infinding a very poor encampment, where there was a little water in a deeptrench of a creek, and some scanty grass among the shrubs. All the gamehere consisted of a few straggling buffalo bulls, and during the day therehad been but very little grass, except in some green spots where it hadcollected around springs or shallow lakes. Within fifty miles of the SweetWater, the country changed into a vast saline plain, in many placesextremely level, occasionally resembling the flat sandy beds of shallowlakes. Here the vegetation consisted of a shrubby growth, among which wereseveral varieties of _chenopodiaceous_ plants; but the characteristicshrub was _Fremontia vermicularis_, with smaller saline shrubsgrowing with singular luxuriance, and in many places holding exclusivepossession 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° 20' 06", halted to noon immediately atthe foot of the southern side of the range which walls in the Sweet Watervalley, on the head of a small tributary to that river. 

Continuing in the afternoon our course down the stream, which here cutsdirectly through the ridge, forming a very practicable pass, we enteredthe valley; and, after a march of about nine miles, encamped on ourfamiliar river, endeared to us by the acquaintance of the previousexpedition--the night having already closed in with a cold rain-storm. Ourcamp was about twenty miles above the Devil's gate, which we had been ableto see in coming down the plain; and, in the course of the night, theclouds broke away around Jupiter for a short time; during which weobtained an emersion of the first satellite, the result of which agreedvery nearly with the chronometer, giving for the mean longitude 107° 50'07"; elevation above the sea 6, 040 feet; and distance from St. Vrain'sfort, by the road we had Just traveled, 315 miles. 

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

The morning of the 13th was clear and cold, there being a white-frost, andthe thermometer, a little before sunrise, standing at 26. 5°. Leaving thisencampment, (our last on the waters which flow towards the rising sun, ) wetook our way along the upland, towards the dividing ridge which separatesthe Atlantic from the Pacific waters, and crossed it by a road some milesfurther south than the one we had followed on our return in 1842. Wecrossed very near the Table mountain, at the southern extremity of theSouth Pass, which is near twenty miles in width, and already traversed byseveral different roads. Selecting, as well as I could, in the scarcelydistinguishable ascent, what might be considered the dividing ridge inthis remarkable depression in the mountain, I took a barometricalobservation, which gave 7, 490 feet for the elevation above the Gulf ofMexico. You will remember that, in my report of 1842, I estimated theelevation of this pass at about 7, 000 feet; a correct observation with agood barometer enables me to give it with more precision. Its importance, as the great gate through which commerce and traveling may hereafter passbetween the valley of the Mississippi and the North Pacific, justifies aprecise notice of its locality and distance from leading points, inaddition to this statement of its elevation. As stated in the report of1842, its latitude, at the point where we crossed, is 42° 24' 32"; itslongitude 109° 26' 00"; its distance from the mouth of the Kansas, by thecommon traveling route, 962 miles; from the mouth of the Great Platte, along the valley of that river, according to our survey of 1842, 882miles; and its distance from St. Louis about 400 miles more by the Kansas, and about 700 by the Great Platte route; these additions being steamboatconveyance in both instances. From this pass to the mouth of the Oregon isabout 1, 400 miles by the common traveling route; so that under a generalpoint of view, it may be assumed to be about half-way between theMississippi and the Pacific ocean, on the common traveling route. Following a hollow of slight and easy descent, in which was very soonformed a little tributary to the Gulf of California, (for the waters whichflow west from the South Pass go to this gulf, ) we made our usual haltfour miles from the pass, in latitude, by observation, 42° 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 theSandy river, the road led for several days over dry and leveluninteresting plains; to which a low scrubby growth of artemisia gave auniform dull grayish color; and on the evening of the 15th we encamped inthe Mexican territory, on the left bank of Green river, 69 miles from theSouth Pass, in longitude 110° 05' 05", and latitude 41° 53' 54", distant1, 031 miles from the mouth of the Kansas. This is the emigrant road toOregon, which bears much to the southward, to avoid the mountains aboutthe 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 alongthe right bank of the stream, of which the islands and shores arehandsomely timbered with cottonwood. The refreshing appearance of thebroad river, with its timbered shores and green wooded islands, incontrast to its dry and sandy plains, probably obtained for it the name ofGreen river, which was bestowed on it by the Spaniards who first came intothis country to trade some 25 years ago. It was then familiarly known asthe 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 UtahIndians, to whom belongs, for a considerable distance below, the countrywhere we were now traveling, it was called the Bitter Root river, from agreat abundance in its valley of a plant which affords them one of theirfavorite roots. Lower down, from Brown's hole to the southward, the riverruns through lofty chasms, walled in by precipices of _red_ rock; andeven among the wilder tribes which inhabit that portion of its course, Ihave heard it called by Indian refugees from the California settlementsthe Rio _Colorado_. We halted to noon at the upper end of a largebottom, near some old houses, which had been a trading post, in lat. 41°46' 54". At this place the elevation of the river above the sea is 6, 230feet. That of Lewis's fork of the Columbia at Fort Hall is, according toour subsequent observations, 4, 500 feet. The descent of each stream israpid, but that of the Colorado is but little known, and that littlederived from vague report. Three hundred miles of its lower part, as itapproaches the Gulf of California, is reported to be smooth and tranquil;but its upper part is manifestly broken into many falls and rapids. Frommany descriptions of trappers, it is probable that in its foaming courseamong its lofty precipices it presents many scenes of wild grandeur; andthough offering many temptations, and often discussed, no trappers havebeen found bold enough to undertake a voyage which has so certain aprospect of a fatal termination. The Indians have strange stories ofbeautiful valleys abounding with beaver, shut up among inaccessible wallsof rock in the lower course of the river; and to which the neighboringIndians, in their occasional wars with the Spaniards and among themselves, drive their herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, leaving them to pasturein perfect security. 

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

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

18th. --We passed on the road, this morning, the grave of one of theemigrants, 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 herrelations at Bridger's fort, which is only a mile or two distant, on afork of this stream. In the evening we encamped on a salt creek, aboutfifteen feet wide, having to-day traveled 32 miles. 

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

One of our mules died here, and in this portion of our journey we lost sixor seven of our animals. The grass which the country had lately affordedwas very poor and insufficient; and animals which have been accustomed tograin become soon weak and unable to labor, when reduced to no othernourishment than grass. The American horses (as those are usually calledwhich are brought to this country from the States) are not of anyserviceable 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 onCarson in advance to Fort Hall this morning, to make arrangements for asmall supply of provisions. A few miles from our encampment, the roadentered a high ridge, which the trappers called the "little mountain, "connecting the Utah with the Wind River chain; and in one of the hillsnear which we passed I remarked strata of a conglomerate formation, fragments of which were scattered over the surface. We crossed a ridge ofthis conglomerate, the road passing near a grove of low cedar, anddescending upon one of the heads of Ham's fork, called Muddy, where wemade our mid-day halt. In the river hills at this place, I discoveredstrata of fossiliferous rock, having an _oolitic structure_, which, in connection with the neighboring strata, authorize us to believe thathere, on the west side of the Rocky mountains, we find repeated the modernformations of Great Britain and Europe, which have hitherto been wantingto complete the system of North American geology. 

In the afternoon we continued our road, and searching among the hills afew miles up the stream, and on the same bank, I discovered, among thealternate beds of coal and clay, a stratum of white indurated clay, containing very clear and beautiful impressions of vegetable remains. Thiswas the most interesting fossil locality I had met in the country, and Ideeply regretted that time did not permit me to remain a day or two in thevicinity; but I could not anticipate the delays to which I might beexposed in the course of our journey--or, rather, I knew that they weremany and inevitable; and after remaining here only about an hour, Ihurried 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 wepassed over some high hills, and we descended to make our encampment onthe same stream, where we found but very poor grass. In the evening a finecow, with her calf, which had strayed off from some emigrant party, wasfound several miles from the road, and brought into camp; and as she gavean abundance of milk, we enjoyed to-night an excellent cup of coffee. Wetraveled to-day 28 miles, and, as has been usual since crossing the Greenriver, the road has been very dusty, and the weather smoky andoppressively hot. Artemisia was characteristic among the few plants. 

20th. --We continued to travel up the creek by a very gradual ascent and avery excellent grassy road, passing on the way several small forks of thestream. The hills here are higher, presenting escarpments of party-coloredand apparently clay rocks, purple, dark-red, and yellow, containing strataof sandstone and limestone with shells, with a bed of cemented pebbles, the whole overlaid by beds of limestone. The alternation of red and yellowgives a bright appearance to the hills, one of which was called by ourpeople the Rainbow hill, and the character of the country became moreagreeable, and traveling far more pleasant, as now we found timber andvery good grass. Gradually ascending, we reached the lower level of a bedof white limestone, lying upon a white clay, on the upper line of whichthe whole road is abundantly supplied with beautiful cool springs, gushingout 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 of7, 200 feet, and in latitude, by observation, 41° 39' 45"; and in theafternoon continued on the same excellent road, up the left or northernfork of the stream, towards its head, in a pass which the barometer placedat 8, 230 feet above the sea. This is a connecting ridge between the Utahor 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 onthe west belonging more directly to the Pacific, from a vast interiorbasin whose rivers are collected into numerous lakes having no outlet tothe ocean. From the summit of this pass, the highest which the roadcrosses between the Mississippi and the Western ocean, our view was over avery mountainous region, whose rugged appearance was greatly increased bythe smoky weather, through which the broken ridges were dark and dimlyseen. The ascent to the summit of the gap was occasionally steeper thanthe national road in the Alleghanies; and the descent, by way of a spur onthe western side, is rather precipitous, but the pass may still be calleda good one. Some thickets of the willow in the hollows below deceived usinto the expectation of finding a camp at our usual hour at the foot ofthe mountain; but we found them without water, and continued down aravine, and encamped about dark at a place where the springs began againto make their appearance, but where our animals fared badly; the stock ofthe emigrants having razed the grass as completely as if we were again inthe midst of the buffalo. 

21st. --An hour's travel this morning brought us into the fertile andpicturesque valley of Bear river, the principal tributary to the GreatSalt lake. The stream is here two hundred feet wide, fringed with willowsand occasional groups of hawthorns. We were now entering a region which, for us, possessed a strange and extraordinary interest. We were upon thewaters of the famous lake which forms a salient point among the remarkablegeographical features of the country, and around which the vague andsuperstitious 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 visitedthe region, it had been a subject of frequent speculation; and the wonderswhich they related were not the less agreeable because they were highlyexaggerated and impossible. 

Hitherto this lake had been seen only by trappers who were wanderingthrough the country in search of new beaver-streams, caring very littlefor geography; its islands had never been visited; and none were to befound who had entirely made the circuit of its shores; and no instrumentalobservations or geographical survey, of any description, had ever beenmade anywhere in the neighboring region. It was generally supposed that ithad no visible outlet; but among the trappers, including those in my owncamp, were many who believed that somewhere on its surface was a terriblewhirlpool, through which its waters found their way to the ocean by somesubterranean communication. All these things had made a frequent subjectof discussion in our desultory conversations around the fires at night;and my own mind had become tolerably well filled with their indefinitepictures, and insensibly colored with their romantic descriptions, which, in the pleasure of excitement, I was well disposed to believe, and halfexpected to realize. 

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

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

According to barometrical observation at noon, the elevation Of the valleywas 6, 400 feet above the sea; and our encampment at night in latitude 42°03' 47", and longitude 111° 10' 53", by observation--the day's journeyhaving been 26 miles. This encampment was therefore within the territoriallimit of the United States; our traveling, from the time we entered thevalley of the Green river, on the 15th of August, having been south of the42d degree of north latitude, and consequently on Mexican territory; andthis is the route all the emigrants now travel to Oregon. 

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

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

The next morning, in about three miles from our encampment, we reachedSmith's fork, a stream of clear water, about 50 feet in breadth. It istimbered with cottonwood, willow, and aspen, and makes a beautifuldebouchement through a pass about 600 yards wide, between remarkablemountain hills, rising abruptly on either side, and forming giganticcolumns 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 advancedto a gap 500 yards wide, and during the greater part of the day we had awinding route, the river making very sharp and sudden bends, the mountainssteep and rocky, and the valley occasionally so narrow as only to leavespace for a passage through. 

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

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

In common with all the emigration, they had been reposing for several daysin this delightful valley, in order to recruit their animals on itsluxuriant pasturage after their long journey, and prepare them for thehard travel along the comparatively sterile banks of the Upper Columbia. At the lower end of this extensive bottom, the river passes through anopen canon, where there were high vertical rocks to the water's edge, andthe road here turns up a broad valley to the right. It was already nearsunset; but, hoping to reach the river again before night, we continuedour march along the valley, finding the road tolerably good, until wearrived at a point where it crosses the ridge by an ascent of a mile inlength, 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 andgrass; and we were obliged to grope our way in the darkness down a verysteep, bad mountain, reaching the river at about ten o'clock. It was latebefore our animals were gathered into the camp, several of those whichwere very weak being necessarily left to pass the night on the ridge; andwe sat down again to a midnight supper. The road, in the morning, presented an animated appearance. We found that we had encamped near alarge party of emigrants; and a few miles below, another party was alreadyin motion. Here the valley had resumed its usual breadth, and the riverswept off along the mountains on the western side, the road continuingdirectly on. 

In about an hour's travel we met several Shoshonee Indians, who informedus that they belonged to a large village which had just come into thevalley from the mountain to the westward, where they had been huntingantelope and gathering service-berries. Glad at the opportunity of seeingone of their villages, and in the hope of purchasing from them a fewhorses, 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, whensuddenly a single horseman emerged from it at full speed, followed byanother and another in rapid succession; and then party after party pouredinto the plain, until, when the foremost rider reached us, all the wholeintervening plain was occupied by a mass of horsemen, which came chargingdown upon us with guns and naked swords, lances, and bows and arrows--Indians entirely naked, and warriors fully dressed for war, with the longred streamers of their war-bonnets reaching nearly to the ground, allmingled together in the bravery of savage warfare. They had been throwninto a sudden tumult by the appearance of our flag, which, among thesepeople, is regarded as an emblem of hostility--it being usually borne bythe Sioux and the neighboring mountain Indians, when they come here towar; and we had, accordingly been mistaken for a body of their enemies. Afew words from the chief quieted the excitement; and the whole band, increasing every moment in number, escorted us to their encampment, wherethe chief pointed out a place for us to encamp, near his own lodge, and wemade known our purpose in visiting the village. In a very short time wepurchased eight horses, for which we gave in exchange blankets, red andblue cloth, beads, knives, and tobacco, and the usual other articles ofIndian traffic. We obtained from them also a considerable quantity ofberries, of different kinds, among which service-berries were the mostabundant; and several kinds of roots and seeds, which we could eat withpleasure, 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 Indianswho inhabit the upper waters of the streams on the western side of themountains. It has a very strong and remarkably peculiar taste and odor, which I can compare to no other vegetable that I am acquainted with, andwhich 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, inthe evening, one of the chiefs sent his wife to me with a portion whichshe had prepared as a delicacy to regale us, the odor immediately drovehim out of the lodge; and frequently afterwards he used to beg that whenthose who liked it had taken what they desired, it might be sent away. Toothers, however, the taste is rather an agreeable one; and I wasafterwards glad when it formed an addition to our scanty meals. It is fullof nutriment; and in its unprepared state is said by the Indians to havevery strong poisonous qualities, of which it is deprived by a peculiarprocess, being baked in the ground for about two days. 

The morning of the 24th was disagreeably cool, with an easterly wind, andvery smoky weather. We made a late start from the village, and, regainingthe road, (on which, during all the day, were scattered the emigrantwagons, ) we continued on down the valley of the river, bordered by highand mountainous hills, on which fires are seen at the summit. The soilappears generally good, although, with the grasses, many of the plants aredried up, probably on account of the great heat and want of rain. Thecommon blue flax of cultivation, now almost entirely in seed--only ascattered flower here and there remaining--is the most characteristicplant of the Bear River valley. When we encamped at night, on the rightbank of the river, it was growing as in a sown field. We had traveledduring the day twenty-two miles, encamping in latitude (by observation)42° 36' 56", chronometric longitude 111° 42' 05". 

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

25th. --This was a cloudless but smoky autumn morning, with a cold windfrom the southeast, and a temperature of 45° at sunrise. In a few miles Inoticed, where a little stream crossed the road, fragments of _scoriatedbasalt_ scattered about--the first volcanic rock we had seen, and whichnow became a characteristic rock along our future road. In about sixmiles' travel from our encampment, we reached one of the points in ourjourney to which we had always looked forward with great interest--thefamous _Beer springs_. The place in which they are situated is abasin of mineral waters enclosed by the mountains, which sweep around acircular bend of Bear river, here at its most northern point, and which, from a northern, in the course of a few miles acquires a southerndirection towards the GREAT SALT LAKE. A pretty little stream of clearwater enters the upper part of the basin, from an open valley in themountains, and, passing through the bottom, discharges into Bear river. Crossing this stream, we descended a mile below, and made our encampmentin a grove of cedar immediately at the Beer springs, which, on account ofthe effervescing gas and acid taste, have received their name from thevoyageurs and trappers of the country, who, in the midst of their rude andhard lives, are fond of finding some fancied resemblance to the luxuriesthey rarely have the fortune to enjoy. 

Although somewhat disappointed in the expectations which variousdescriptions had led me to form of unusual beauty of situation andscenery, I found it altogether a place of very great interest; and atraveler for the first time in a volcanic region remains in a constantexcitement, and at every step is arrested by something remarkable and new. There is a confusion of interesting objects gathered together in a smallspace. Around the place of encampment the Beer springs were numerous; but, as far as we could ascertain, were confined entirely to that locality inthe bottom. In the bed of the river, in front, for a space of severalhundred yards, they were very abundant; the effervescing gas rising up andagitating the water in countless bubbling columns. In the vicinity roundabout were numerous springs of an entirely different and equally markedmineral character. In a rather picturesque spot about 1, 300 yards belowour encampment, and immediately on the river bank, is the most remarkablespring of the place. In an opening on the rock, a white column ofscattered water is thrown up, in form like a _jet-d'eau_, to avariable height of about three feet, and, though it is maintained in aconstant supply, its greatest height is only attained at regularintervals, according to the action of the force below. It is accompaniedby a subterranean noise, which, together with the motion of the water, makes very much the impression of a steamboat in motion; and, withoutknowing that it had been already previously so called, we gave to it thename of the _Steamboat spring_. The rock through which it is forcedis slightly raised in a convex manner, and gathered at the opening into anurn-mouthed form, and is evidently formed by continued deposition from thewater, and colored bright red by oxide of iron. An analysis of thisdeposited rock, which I subjoin, will give you some idea of the propertiesof the water, which, with the exception of the Beer springs, is themineral water of the place. [Footnote:ANALYSIS. Carbonate of lime - - - 92. 55Carbonate of magnesia - 0. 42Oxide of iron - - - - - 1. 05

Silica- - - - - -}Alumina - - - - -}- - - 5. 98Water and loss- -} _______ 100. 00]It is a hot spring, and the water has a pungent and disagreeable metallictaste, leaving a burning effect on the tongue. Within perhaps two yards ofthe _jet-d'eau_ is a small hole of about an inch in diameter, throughwhich, at regular intervals, escapes a blast of hot air, with a lightwreath of smoke, accompanied by a regular noise. This hole had beennoticed by Dr. Wislizenus, a gentleman who had several years since passedby this place, and who remarked, with very nice observation, that smellingthe gas which issued from the orifice produced a sensation of giddinessand nausea. Mr. Preuss and myself repeated the observation, and were sowell satisfied with its correctness, that we did not find it pleasant tocontinue the experiment, as the sensation of giddiness which it producedwas certainly strong and decided. A huge emigrant wagon, with a large anddiversified 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, withtwo or three young men, came up, one of whom I asked to stoop down andsmell the gas, desirous to satisfy myself further of its effects. But hisnatural caution had been awakened by the singular and suspicious featuresof the place, and he declined my proposal decidedly, and with a fewindistinct remarks about the devil, whom he seemed to consider the_genius loci_. The ceaseless motion and the play of the fountain, thered 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, isa very remarkable, yellow-colored rock, soft and friable, consistingprincipally of carbonate of lime and oxide of iron, of regular structure, which is probably a fossil coral. The rocky bank along the shore betweenthe Steamboat spring and our encampment, along which is dispersed thewater from the hills, is composed entirely of strata of a calcareous_tufa_, with the remains of moss and reed-like grasses, which isprobably the formation of springs. The _Beer_ or _Soda springs_, which have given name to this locality, are agreeable, but less highlyflavored than the Boiling springs at the foot of Pike's peak, which are ofthe same character. They are very numerous, and half hidden by tufts ofgrass, which we amused ourselves in removing and searching about for morehighly impregnated springs. They are some of them deep, and of varioussizes--sometimes several yards in diameter, and kept in constant motion bycolumns of escaping gas. By analysis, one quart of the water contains asfollows:

 Grains. 

Sulphate of magnesia------------ 12. 10Sulphate of lime---------------- 2. 12Carbonate of lime--------------- 3. 86Carbonate of magnesia----------- 3. 22Chloride of calcium------------- 1. 33Chloride of magnesium----------- 1. 12Chloride of sodium-------------- 2. 24Vegetable extractive matter, &c-- 0. 85 _____ 26. 84

The carbonic acid, originally contained in the water, had mainly escapedbefore it was subjected to analysis; and it was not, therefore, taken intoconsideration. 

In the afternoon I wandered about among the cedars, which occupy thegreater part of the bottom towards the mountains. The soil here has a dryand calcined appearance; in some places, the open grounds are covered withsaline efflorescences, and there are a number of regularly-shaped and veryremarkable hills, which are formed of a succession of convex strata thathave been deposited by the waters of extinct springs, the orifices ofwhich 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-coloredearth, entirely bare, and composed principally of carbonate of lime, withoxide of iron, formed in the same manner. Walking near one of them, on thesummit of which the springs were dry, my attention was attracted by anunderground noise, around which I circled repeatedly, until I found thespot from beneath which it came; and, removing the red earth, discovered ahidden spring, which was boiling up from below, with the same disagreeablemetallic taste as the Steamboat spring. Continuing up the bottom, andcrossing the little stream which has been already mentioned, I visitedseveral remarkable red and white hills, which had attracted my attentionfrom the road in the morning. These are immediately upon the stream, and, like those already mentioned, are formed by the deposition of successivestrata from the springs. On their summits, the orifices through which thewaters had been discharged were so large, that they resembled miniaturecraters, being some of them several feet in diameter, circular, andregularly formed as if by art. At a former time, when these dried-upfountains were all in motion, they must have made a beautiful display on agrand scale; and nearly all this basin appears to me to have been formedunder their action, and should be called the _place of fountains_. Atthe foot of one of these hills, or rather on its side near the base, areseveral of these small limestone columns, about one foot in diameter atthe base, and tapering upwards to a height of three or four feet; and onthe summit the water is boiling up and bubbling over, constantly adding tothe height of the little obelisks. In some, the water only boils up, nolonger overflowing, and has here the same taste as at the Steamboatspring. The observer will remark a gradual subsidence in the water, whichformerly supplied the fountains; as on all the summits of the hills thesprings are now dry, and are found only low down upon their sides, or onthe surrounding plain. 

A little higher up the creek its banks are formed by strata of very heavyand hard scoriaceous basalt, having a bright metallic lustre when broken. The mountains overlooking the plain are of an entirely differentgeological character. Continuing on, I walked to the summit of one ofthem, where the principal rock was a granular quartz. Descending themountains, and returning towards the camp along the base of the ridgewhich skirts the plain, I found, at the foot of a mountain spur, andissuing from a compact rock of a dark blue color, a great number ofsprings having the same pungent and disagreeably metallic taste alreadymentioned, the water of which was collected into a very remarkable basin, whose singularity, perhaps, made it appear to me very beautiful. It islarge--perhaps fifty yards in circumference; and in it the water iscontained, at an elevation of several feet above the surrounding ground, by a wall of calcareous _tufa_, composed principally of the remainsof mosses, three or four, and sometimes ten feet high. The water within isvery clear and pure, and three or four feet deep, where it could bemeasured, near the wall; and at a considerably low level, is another pondor basin of very clear water, and apparently of considerable depth, fromthe bottom of which the gas was escaping in bubbling columns at manyplaces. This water was collected into a small stream, which, in a fewhundred yards, sank under ground, reappearing among the rocks between thetwo 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 inthe way a large field of salt that was several inches deep, found on myarrival that our emigrant friends, who had been encamped in company withus, had resumed their journey, and the road had again assumed its solitarycharacter. The temperature of the largest of the _Beer_ springs atour encampment was 65° at sunset, that of the air being 62. 5°. Ourbarometric observation gave 5, 840 feet for the elevation above the gulf, being about 500 feet lower than the Boiling springs, which are of asimilar nature, at the foot of Pike's peak. The astronomical observationsgave for our latitude 42° 39' 57", and 111° 46' 00" for the longitude. The night was very still and cloudless, and I sat up for an observation ofthe first satellite of Jupiter, the emersion of which took place aboutmidnight; but fell asleep at the telescope, awaking just a few minutesafter 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°. At the same time, the temperature ofthe large Beer spring, where we were encamped, was 56°; that of theSteamboat spring 87°, and that of the steam-hole, near it, 81. 5°. In thecourse of the morning, the last wagons of the emigration passed by, and wewere again left in our place, in the rear. 

Remaining in camp until nearly 11 o'clock, we traveled a short distancedown the river, and halted to noon on the bank, at a point where the roadquits the valley of Bear river, and, crossing a ridge which divides theGreat basin from the Pacific waters, reaches Fort Hall, by way of thePortneuf river, in a distance of probably fifty miles, or two and a halfdays' journey for wagons. An examination of the great lake which is theoutlet of this river, and the principal feature of geographical interestin the basin, was one of the main objects contemplated in the general planof our survey, and I accordingly determined at this place to leave theroad, and, after having completed a reconnoissance of the lake, regain itsubsequently at Fort Hall. But our little stock of provisions had againbecome extremely low; we had only dried meat sufficient for one meal, andour supply of flour and other comforts was entirely exhausted. I thereforeimmediately 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 beobtained there in the way of provisions, and endeavor to overtake me onthe river. In the mean time, we had picked up along the road two tolerablywell-grown calves, which would have become food for wolves, and which hadprobably been left by some of the earlier emigrants, none of those we hadmet having made any claim to them; and on these I mainly relied forsupport during our circuit to the lake. 

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

As we were about resuming our march in the afternoon, I was attracted bythe singular appearance of an isolated hill with a concave summit, in theplain, about two miles from the river, and turned off towards it, whilethe camp proceeded on its way southward in search of the lake. I found thethin and stony soil of the plain entirely underlaid by the basalt whichforms 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 thesame scoriated volcanic rock, from 40 to 60 feet deep, but which there wasnot sufficient light to penetrate entirely, and which I had not time todescend. Arrived at the summit of the hill, I found that it terminated ina very perfect crater, of an oval, or nearly circular form, 360 paces incircumference, and 60 feet at the greatest depth. The walls, which wereperfectly vertical, and disposed like masonry in a very regular manner, were composed of a brown-colored scoriaceous lava, similar to the lightscoriaceous lava of Mt. Etna, Vesuvius, and other volcanoes. The faces ofthe walls were reddened and glazed by the fire, in which they had beenmelted, and which had left them contorted and twisted by its violentaction. 

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

Crossing a point of ridge which makes in to the river, we fell upon itagain before sunset, and encamped on the right bank, opposite to theencampment of three lodges of Snake Indians. They visited us during theevening, and we obtained from them a small quantity of roots of differentkinds, in exchange for goods. Among them was a sweet root of very pleasantflavor, having somewhat the taste of preserved quince. My endeavors tobecome acquainted with the plants which furnish to the Indians a portionof their support, were only gradually successful, and after long andpersevering attention; and even after obtaining, I did not succeed inpreserving them until they could be satisfactorily determined. In thisportion of the journey, I found this particular root cut up into smallpieces, that it was only to be identified by its taste, when the bulb wasmet with in perfect form among the Indians lower down on the Columbia, among whom it is the highly celebrated kamas. It was long afterwards, onour return through Upper California, that I found the plant itself inbloom, which I supposed to furnish the kamas root, (_camassiaesculenta_. ) The root diet had a rather mournful effect at thecommencement, and one of the calves was killed this evening for food. Theanimals fared well on rushes. 

27th. --The morning was cloudy, with appearance of rain, and thethermometer at sunrise at 29°. Making an unusually early start, we crossedthe river at a good ford; and, following for about three hours a trailwhich led along the bottom, we entered a labyrinth of hills below the mainridge, and halted to noon in the ravine of a pretty little stream, timbered with cottonwood of a large size, ash-leaved maple, with cherryand other shrubby trees. The hazy weather, which had prevented any veryextended views since entering the Green River valley, began now todisappear. There was a slight rain in the earlier part of the day, and atnoon, when the thermometer had risen to 79. 5°, we had a bright sun, withblue sky and scattered _cumuli_. According to the barometer, our haltthere among the hills was at an elevation of 5, 320 feet. Crossing adividing ridge in the afternoon, we followed down another little BearRiver tributary, to the point where it emerged on an open green flat amongthe hills, timbered with groves, and bordered with cane thickets, butwithout water. A pretty little rivulet coming out of the hillside, andoverhung by tall flowering plants of a species I had not hitherto seen, furnished us with a good camping-place. The evening was cloudy, thetemperature at sunset 69°, and the elevation 5, 140 feet. Among the plantsoccurring along the road during the day, _epinettes des prairies_(grindelia squarraso) was in considerable abundance, and is among the veryfew plants remaining in bloom--the whole country having now an autumnalappearance, in the crisp and yellow plants, and dried-up grasses. Manycranes 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, whichhas made the air this morning very clear, the thermometer being at 55°. Leaving our encampment at the _Cane spring_, and quitting the trailon which we had been traveling, and which would probably have afforded usa good road to the lake, we crossed some very deep ravines, and, in aboutan hour's traveling, again reached the river. We were now in a valley fiveor six miles wide, between mountain ranges, which, about thirty milesbelow, appeared to close up and terminate the valley, leaving for theriver only a very narrow pass, or canon, behind which we imagined we wouldfind the broad waters of the lake. We made the usual halt at the mouth ofa 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 sandyhill; and after a slow and winding day's march of 27 miles, encamped at aslough on the river. There were great quantities of geese and, ducks, ofwhich only a few were shot; the Indians having probably made them verywild. The men employed themselves in fishing but caught nothing. A skunk, (_mephitis Americana_, ) which was killed in the afternoon, made asupper for one of the messes. The river is bordered occasionally withfields of cane, which we regarded as an indication of our approach to alake-country. We had frequent showers of rain during the night, withthunder. 

29th. --The thermometer at sunrise was 54°, with air from the NW. , and darkrainy clouds moving on the horizon; rain squalls and bright sunshine byintervals. I rode ahead with Basil to explore the country, and, continuingabout three miles along the river, turned directly off on a trail runningtowards three marked gaps in the bordering range, where the mountainsappeared cut through their bases, towards which the river plain rosegradually. Putting our horses into a gallop on some fresh tracks whichshowed very plainly in the wet path, we came suddenly upon a small partyof Shoshonee Indians, who had fallen into the trail from the north. Wecould only communicate by signs; but they made us understand that the roadthrough the chain was a very excellent one, leading into a broad valleywhich ran to the southward. We halted to noon at what may be called thegate of the pass; on either side of which were huge mountains of rock, between which stole a little pure water stream, with a margin justsufficiently large for our passage. From the river, the plain hadgradually risen to an altitude of 5, 500 feet, and, by meridianobservation, the latitude of the entrance was 42°. 

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

The trail was an excellent one for pack-horses; but as it sometimescrossed a shelving point, to avoid the shrubbery we were obliged inseveral places to open a road for the carriage through the wood. A squawon horseback, accompanied by five or six dogs, entered the pass in theafternoon; but was too much terrified at finding herself in suchunexpected company to make any pause for conversation, and hurried off ata good pace--being, of course, no further disturbed than by anaccelerating shout. She was well and showily dressed, and was probablygoing to a village encamped somewhere near, and evidently did not belongto the tribe of _root-diggers_. We now had entered a countryinhabited by these people; and as in the course of the voyage we shallfrequently meet with them in various stages of existence, it will be wellto inform you that, scattered over the great region west of the Rockymountains, and south of the Great Snake river, are numerous Indians whosesubsistence is almost solely derived from roots and seeds, and such smallanimals as chance and great good fortune sometimes bring within theirreach. 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 nomeans of obtaining better arms. In the northern part of the region justmentioned, they live generally in solitary families; and farther to thesouth they are gathered together in villages. Those who live together invillages, strengthened by association, are in exclusive possession of themore genial and richer parts of the country; while the others are drivento the ruder mountains, and to the more inhospitable parts of the country. But by simply observing, in accompanying us along our road, you willbecome better acquainted with these people than we could make you in anyother than a very long description, and you will find them worthy of yourinterest. 

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

The most remarkable feature of the pass is the _Standing rock_, whichhas fallen from the cliffs above, and standing perpendicularly near themiddle of the valley, presents itself like a watch-tower in the pass. Itwill give you a tolerably correct idea of the character of the scenery inthis country, where generally the mountains rise abruptly up fromcomparatively unbroken plains and level valleys; but it will entirely failin representing the picturesque beauty of this delightful place, where agreen valley, full of foliage and a hundred yards wide, contrasts withnaked 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 awillingness to linger on the way, made the afternoon's travel short; andabout two miles from the entrance, we passed through another gate, andencamped on the stream at the junction of a little fork from thesouthward, around which the mountains stooped more gently down, forming asmall 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 ascendeddifferent neighboring peaks, in the hope of seeing some indications of thelake; but though our elevation afforded magnificent views, the eye rangingover a large extent of Bear river, with the broad and fertile _Cachevalley_ in the direction of our search, was only to be seen a bed ofapparently impracticable mountains. Among these, the trail we had beenfollowing turned sharply to the northward, and it began to be doubtful ifit would not lead us away from the object of our destination; but Inevertheless determined to keep it, in the belief that it would eventuallybring us right. A squall of rain drove us out of the mountain, and it waslate when we reached the camp. The evening closed in with frequent showersof rain, with some lightning and thunder. 

30th. --We had constant thunder-storms during the night, but in the morningthe clouds were sinking to the horizon, and the air was clear and cold, with the thermometer at sunrise at 39°. Elevation by barometer 5, 580 feet. We were in motion early, continuing up the little stream withoutencountering any ascent where a horse would not easily gallop; and, crossing a slight dividing ground at the summit, descended upon a smallstream, along which continued the same excellent road. In riding throughthe 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 traveledthrough a more open bottom, on a level road, where heavily-laden wagonscould pass without obstacle. The hills on the right grew lower, and, onentering a more open country, we discovered a Shoshonee village; and beingdesirous to obtain information, and purchase from them some roots andberries, we halted on the river, which was lightly wooded with cherry, willow, maple, service-berry, and aspen. A meridian observation of thesun, which I obtained here, gave 42° 14' 22" for our latitude, and thebarometer indicated a height of 5, 170 feet. A number of Indians cameimmediately over to visit us, and several men were sent to the villagewith goods, tobacco, knives, cloth, vermilion, and the usual trinkets, toexchange for provisions. But they had no game of any kind; and it wasdifficult to obtain any roots from them, as they were miserably poor, andhad but little to spare from their winter stock of provisions. Several ofthe Indians drew aside their blankets, showing me their lean and bonyfigures; and I would not any longer tempt them with a display of ourmerchandise to part with their wretched subsistence, when they gave as areason that it would expose them to temporary starvation. A great portionof the region inhabited by this nation, formerly abounded in game--thebuffalo ranging about in herds, as we had found them on the easternwaters, and the plains dotted with scattered bands of antelope; but sorapidly have they disappeared within a few years, that now, as wejourneyed along, an occasional buffalo skull and a few wild antelope wereall that remained of the abundance which had covered the country withanimal life. 

The extraordinary rapidity with which the buffalo is disappearing from ourterritories will not appear surprising when we remember the great scale onwhich their destruction is yearly carried on. With inconsiderableexceptions, the business of the American trading-posts is carried on intheir skins; every year the Indian villages make new lodges, for which theskin of the buffalo furnishes the material; and in that portion of thecountry where they are still found, the Indians derive their entiresupport from them, and slaughter them with a thoughtless and abominableextravagance. Like the Indians themselves, they have been a characteristicof the Great West; and as, like them, they are visibly diminishing, itwill be interesting to throw a glance backward through the last twentyyears, and give some account of their former distribution through thecountry, and the limit of their western range. 

The information is derived principally from Mr. Fitzpatrick, supported bymy own personal knowledge and acquaintance with the country. Our knowledgedoes not go farther back than the spring of 1824, at which time thebuffalo were spread in immense numbers over the Green River and Bear Rivervalleys, and through all the country lying between the Colorado, or Greenriver 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 frequentlymoved down the valley of the Columbia, on both sides of the river as faras the _Fishing falls_. Below this point they never descended in anynumbers. About the year 1834 or 1835 they began to diminish very rapidly, and continued to decrease until 1838 or 1840, when, with the country wehave just described, they entirely abandoned all the waters of the Pacificnorth of Lewis's fork of the Columbia. At that time, the Flathead Indianswere 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 themfarther west than the three forks of the Missouri, or the plains of theYellow-stone river. 

In the course of our journey it will be remarked that the buffalo have notso entirely abandoned the waters of the Pacific, in the Rocky-Mountainregion south of the Sweet Water, as in the country north of the GreatPass. This partial distribution can only be accounted for in the greatpastoral beauty of that country, which bears marks of having been one oftheir favorite haunts, and by the fact that the white hunters have morefrequented the northern than the southern region--it being north of theSouth Pass that the hunters, trappers, and traders, have had theirrendezvous for many years past; and from that section also the greaterportion of the beaver and rich furs were taken, although always the mostdangerous 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--thebuffalo never extended so far to the westward as they did on the waters ofthe Columbia; and only in one or two instances have they been known todescend as far west as the mouth of White river. In traveling through thecountry west of the Rocky mountains, observation readily led me to theimpression that the buffalo had, for the first time, crossed that range tothe waters of the Pacific only a few years prior to the period we areconsidering; and in this opinion I am sustained by Mr. Fitzpatrick, andthe older trappers in that country. In the region west of the Rockymountains, we never meet with any of the ancient vestiges which, throughout all the country lying upon their eastern waters, are found inthe _great highways_, continuous for hundreds of miles, alwaysseveral inches, and sometimes several feet in depth, which the buffalohave made in crossing from one river to another, or in traversing themountain ranges. The Snake Indians, more particularly those low down uponLewis's fork, have always been very grateful to the American trappers, forthe great kindness (as they frequently expressed it) which they did tothem, in driving the buffalo so low down the Columbia river. 

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

At this time, the buffalo occupy but a very limited space, principallyalong the eastern base of the Rocky mountains, sometimes extending attheir southern extremity to a considerable distance into the plainsbetween the Platte and Arkansas rivers, and along the eastern frontier ofNew Mexico as far south as Texas. 

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

"The total amount of robes annually traded by ourselves and others willnot be found to differ much from the following statement:

 Robes. 

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

"In the northwest, the Hudson's Bay Company purchase from the Indians buta very small number--their only market being Canada, to which the cost oftransportation nearly equals the produce of the furs; and it is onlywithin a very recent period that they have received buffalo robes intrade; and out of the great number of buffalo annually killed throughoutthe extensive region inhabited by the Camanches and other kindred tribes, no robes whatever are furnished for trade. During only four months of theyear, (from November until March, ) the skins are good for dressing; thoseobtained in the remaining eight months are valueless to traders; and thehides 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 animalskilled, even when they are in good season, the labor of preparing anddressing the robes being very great; and it is seldom that a lodge tradesmore than twenty skins in a year. It is during the summer months, and inthe 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 numberannually killed. 

In 1842, I found the Sioux Indians of the Upper Platte _demontes_, astheir French traders expressed it, with the failure of the buffalo; and inthe following year, large villages from the Upper Missouri came over tothe mountains at the heads of the Platte, in search of them. The rapidlyprogressive failure of their principal, and almost their only means ofsubsistence, has created great alarm among them; and at this time thereare only two modes presented to them, by which they see a good prospectfor escaping starvation: one of these is to rob the settlements along thefrontier of the States; and the other is to form a league between thevarious tribes of the Sioux nation, the Cheyennes, and Arapahoes, and makewar 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 havein consideration; and it would probably be a war of extermination, as theCrows have long been advised of this state of affairs, and say that theyare perfectly prepared. These are the best warriors in the Rockymountains, and are now allied with the Snake Indians; and it is probablethat their combination would extend itself to the Utahs, who have longbeen engaged in war against the Sioux. It is in this section of countrythat my observation formerly led me to recommend the establishment of amilitary post. 

The farther course of our narrative will give fuller and more detailedinformation of the present disposition of the buffalo in the country wevisited. 

Among the roots we obtained here, I could distinguish only five or sixdifferent kinds; and the supply of the Indians whom we met consistedprincipally of yampah, (_anethum graveolens_, ) tobacoo-root, (_valeriana_, ) and a large root of a species of thistle, (_circiumVirginianum_, ) which now is occasionally abundant and is a veryagreeably flavored vegetable. 

We had been detained so long at the village, that in the afternoon we madeonly five miles, and encamped on the same river after a day's journey of19 miles. The Indians informed us that we should reach the big salt waterafter having slept twice and traveling in a south direction. The streamhad here entered nearly a level plain or valley, of good soil, eight orten miles broad, to which no termination was to be seen, and lying betweenranges of mountains which, on the right, were grassy and smooth, unbrokenby 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 youngwillows, older trees being rarely found on the plains, where the Indiansburn the surface to produce better grass. Several magpies (_picaHudsopica_) were seen on the creek this afternoon; and a rattlesnakewas killed here, the first which had been seen since leaving the easternplains. Our camp to-night had such a hungry appearance that I suffered thelittle cow to be killed, and divided the roots and berries among thepeople. A number of Indians from the village encamped near. 

The weather the next morning was clear, the thermometer at sunrise at44. 5°; and, continuing down the valley, in about five miles we followedthe 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, andrunning off to a point apparently some forty or fifty miles below. Betweenthis (now become the valley stream) and the foot of the mountains, wejourneyed along a handsome sloping level, which frequent springs from thehills made occasionally miry, and halted to noon at a swampy spring, wherethere were good grass and abundant rushes. Here the river was forty feetwide, with a considerable current, and the valley a mile and a half inbreadth; the soil being generally good, of a dark color, and apparentlywell adapted to cultivation. The day had become bright and pleasant, withthe thermometer at 71°. By observation, our latitude was 41° 59' 31", andthe elevation above the sea 4, 670 feet. On our left, this afternoon, therange at long intervals formed itself into peaks, appearing to terminate, about forty miles below, in a rocky cape, beyond which several others werefaintly visible; and we were disappointed when, at every little rise, wedid not see the lake. Towards evening, our way was somewhat obstructed byfields of _artemisia_, which began to make their appearance here, andwe encamped on the Roseaux, the water of which had acquired a decidedlysalt taste, nearly opposite to a canon gap in the mountains, through whichthe Bear river enters this valley. As we encamped, the night set in darkand cold, with heavy rain, and the artemisia, which was our only wood, wasso wet that it would not burn. A poor, nearly starved dog, with a wound inhis side from a ball, came to the camp, and remained with us until thewinter, when he met a very unexpected fate. 

SEPTEMBER. 

1st. --The morning was squally and cold; the sky scattered over withclouds; and the night had been so uncomfortable, that we were not on theroad until eight o'clock. Traveling between Roseaux and Bear rivers, wecontinued to descend the valley, which gradually expanded, as we advanced, into a level plain, of good soil, about 25 miles in breadth, betweenmountains 3, 000 and 4, 000 feet high, rising suddenly to the clouds, whichall day rested upon the peaks. These gleamed out in the occasionalsunlight, mantled with the snow, which had fallen upon them, while itrained on us in the valley below, of which the elevation here was 4, 500feet above the sea. The country before us plainly indicated that we wereapproaching the lake, though, as the ground we were traveling afforded noelevated point, nothing of it as yet could be seen; and at a greatdistance ahead were several isolated mountains resembling islands, whichthey were afterwards found to be. On this upper plain, the grass waseverywhere dead; and among the shrubs with which it was almost exclusivelyoccupied, (artemisia being the most abundant, ) frequently occurredhandsome clusters of several species of _dieteria_ in bloom. _Purshia tridentata_ was among the frequent shrubs. Descending to thebottoms of Bear river, we found good grass for the animals, and encampedabout 300 yards above the mouth of Roseaux, which here makes its junction, without communicating any of its salty taste to the main stream, of whichthe water remains perfectly pure. On the river are only willow thickets, (_salix longifolia_, ) and in the bottoms the abundant plants arecanes, soldiago, and helianthi, and along the banks of Roseaux are fieldsof _malva rotundifolia_. At sunset the thermometer was at 54. 5°, andthe evening clear and calm; but I deferred making any use of it until oneo'clock in the morning, when I endeavored to obtain an emersion of thefirst satellite; but it was lost in a bank of clouds, which also renderedour usual observations indifferent. 

Among the useful things which formed a portion of our equipage, was anIndia-rubber boat, 18 feet long, made somewhat in the form of a bark canoeof the northern lakes. The sides were formed by two air-tight cylinders, eighteen inches in diameter, connected with others forming the bow andstern. To lessen the danger from accidents to the boat, these were dividedinto four different compartments, and the interior space was sufficientlylarge to contain five or six persons, and a considerable weight ofbaggage. The Roseaux being too deep to be forded, our boat was filled withair, and in about one hour all the equipage of the camp, carriage and gunincluded, ferried across. Thinking that perhaps in the course of the daywe might reach the outlet of the lake, I got into the boat with BasilLajeunesse, and paddled down Bear river, intending at night to rejoin theparty, which in the mean time proceeded on its way. The river was fromsixty to one hundred yards broad, and the water so deep, that even on thecomparatively shallow points we could not reach the bottom with 15 feet. On either side were alternately low bottoms and willow points, with anoccasional high prairie; and for five or six hours we followed slowly thewinding course of the river, which crept along with a sluggish currentamong frequent _detours_ several miles around, sometimes running fora considerable distance directly up the valley. As we were stealingquietly down the stream, trying in vain to get a shot at a strange largebird that was numerous among the willows, but very shy, we cameunexpectedly upon several families of _Root-Diggers_, who wereencamped among the rushes on the shore, and appeared very busy aboutseveral weirs or nets which had been rudely made of canes and rushes forthe purpose of catching fish. They were very much startled at ourappearance, but we soon established an acquaintance; and finding that theyhad 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 andmiserable, 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. Fromthe words we could comprehend, their language was that of the SnakeIndians. 

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 wewere sufficiently far below the Indians, we put to the shore near a highprairie bank, hauled up the boat, and _cached_ our effects in thewillows. Ascending the bank, we found that our desultory labor had broughtus 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 sweepwhich it makes at this place. The sun was about three hours high when wefound the trail; and as our people had passed early in the day, we had theprospect of a vigorous walk before us. Immediately where we landed, thehigh arable plain on which we had been traveling, for several days past, terminated in extensive low flats, very generally occupied by saltmarshes, or beds of shallow lakes, whence the water had in most placesevaporated, leaving their hard surface incrusted with a shining whiteresiduum; and absolutely covered with very small _univalve_ shells. As we advanced, the whole country around us assumed this appearance; andthere was no other vegetation than the shrubby chenopodiaceous and otherapparently saline plants, which were confined to the rising grounds. Hereand there, on the river bank, which was raised like a levee above theflats through which it ran, was a narrow border of grass and short black-burnt willows; the stream being very deep and sluggish, and sometimes sixhundred to eight hundred feet wide. After a rapid walk of about fifteenmiles, we caught sight of the camp-fires among clumps of willows, just asthe 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 soprecious, could not have revealed a more welcome sight. To the travelerand 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 regionof novelty, approaching the _debouches_ of a river, in a lake ofalmost fabulous reputation, it was doubly so. A plentiful supper ofaquatic birds, and the interest of the scene, soon dissipated fatigue; andI obtained during the night emersions of the second, third, and fourthsatellites of Jupiter, with observations for time and latitude. 

3d. --The morning was clear, with a light air from the north, and thethermometer at sunrise at 45. 5°. At three in the morning, Basil was sentback with several men and horses for the boat, which, in a direct courseacross the flats, was not ten miles distant; and in the mean time therewas a pretty spot of grass here for the animals. The ground was so lowthat we could not get high enough to see across the river, on account ofthe willows; but we were evidently in the vicinity of the lake, and thewater-fowl made this morning a noise like thunder. A pelican (_pelecanusonocrotalus_) was killed as he passed by, and many geese and ducks flewover 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 asmall quantity of roots and some meat, which the Indians had told them wasbear-meat. 

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

Although the moon was bright, the night was otherwise favorable; and Iobtained this evening an emersion of the first satellite, with the usualobservations. A mean result, depending on various observations made duringour stay in the neighborhood, places the mouth of the river in longitude112° 19' 30" west from Greenwich; latitude 41° 30' 22"; and, according tothe barometer, in elevation 4, 200 feet above the Gulf of Mexico. The nightwas clear, with considerable dew, which I had remarked every night sincethe first of September. The next morning, while we were preparing tostart, Carson rode into the camp with flour and a few other articles oflight provision sufficient for two or three days--a scanty but veryacceptable supply. Mr. Fitzpatrick had not yet arrived, and provisionswere very scarce, and difficult to be had at Fort Hall, which had beenentirely exhausted by the necessities of the emigrants. He brought me alsoa letter from Mr. Dwight, who, in company with several emigrants, hadreached that place in advance of Mr. Fitzpatrick, and was about continuinghis journey to Vancouver. 

Returning about five miles up the river, we were occupied until nearlysunset in crossing to the left bank--the stream, which in the last five orsix miles of its course is very much narrower than above, being very deepimmediately at the banks; and we had great difficulty in getting ouranimals 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 thethermometer was at 75°, and there was some rain during the night, with athunder-storm at a distance. 

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

About 12 miles to the southward was one of those isolated mountains, nowappearing to be a kind of peninsula; and towards this we accordinglydirected our course, as it probably afforded a good view of the lake; butthe 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 wehalted for a few minutes at noon, on a beautiful little stream of pure andremarkably clear water, with a bed of rock _in situ_, on which was anabundant water-plant with a white blossom. There was good grass in thebottoms; and, amidst a rather luxuriant growth, its banks were borderedwith a large showy plant, (_eupatorium purpureum_, ) which I here sawfor the first time. We named the stream _Clear creek_. 

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

On the plain here I noticed blackbirds and grouse. In about seven milesfrom Clear creek, the trail brought us to a place at the foot of themountain where there issued, with considerable force, 10 or 12 hotsprings, highly impregnated with salt. In one of these the thermometerstood at 136°, and in another at 132. 5°, and the water, which was spreadin pools over the low ground, was colored red. 

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

Peroxide of iron------- 33. 50Carbonate of magnesia-- 2. 40Carbonate of lime------ 50. 43Sulphate of lime------- 2. 00Chloride of sodium----- 3. 45Silica and alumina------ 3. 00Water and loss---------- 5. 22 ------ 100. 00°

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 whichissued the principal fork of a large and comparatively well-timberedstream, called Weber's fork. We accordingly turned off towards the lake, and encamped on this river, which was 100 to 150 feet wide, with highbanks, and very clear pure water, without the slightest indication ofsalt. 

6th. --Leaving the encampment early, we again directed our course for thepeninsular _butte_ across a low shrubby plain, crossing in the way aslough-like creek with miry banks, and wooded with thickets of thorn, (_crataegus_, ) which were loaded with berries. This time we reachedthe butte without any difficulty, and, ascending to the summit, immediately at our feet beheld the object of our anxious search--thewaters of the Inland Sea, stretching in still and solitary grandeur farbeyond the limit of our vision. It was one of the great points of theexploration; and as we looked eagerly over the lake in the first emotionsof excited pleasure, I am doubtful if the followers of Balboa felt moreenthusiasm when, from the heights of the Andes, they saw for the firsttime the great Western ocean. It was certainly a magnificent object, and anoble _terminus_ to this part of our expedition; and to travelers solong shut up among mountain ranges, a sudden view over the expanse ofsilent waters had in it something sublime. Several large islands raisedtheir high rocky heads out of the waves; but whether or not they weretimbered, was still left to our imagination, as the distance was too greatto determine if the dark hues upon them were woodland or naked rock. During the day the clouds had been gathering black over the mountains tothe westward, and, while we were looking, a storm burst down with suddenfury upon the lake, and entirely hid the inlands from our view. So far aswe could see, along the shores there was not a solitary tree, and butlittle appearance of grass; and on Weber's fork, a few miles below ourlast encampment, the timber was gathered into groves, and then disappearedentirely. As this appeared to be the nearest point to the lake, where asuitable 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 ofrushes, (_equisetum hyemale_. ) At sunset the thermometer was at 55°;the evening clear and calm, with some cumuli. 

7th. --The morning was calm and clear, with a temperature at sunrise of39. 5°. The day was spent in active preparation for our intended voyage onthe lake. On the edge of the stream a favorable spot was selected in agrove, 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 nonereside on the lake. The India-rubber boat was repaired with prepared clothand gum, and filled with air, in readiness for the next day. 

The provisions which Carson brought with him being now exhausted, and ourstock reduced to a small quantity of roots, I determined to retain with meonly a sufficient number of men for the execution of our design; andaccordingly seven were sent back to Fort Hall, under the guidance ofFrançois Lajeunesse, who, having been for many years a trapper in thecountry, was considered an experienced mountaineer. Though they wereprovided with good horses, and the road was a remarkably plain one of onlyfour days' journey for a horse-man, they became bewildered, (as weafterwards learned, ) and, losing their way, wandered about the country inparties of one or two, reaching the fort about a week afterwards. Somestraggled in of themselves, and the others were brought in by Indians whohad 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 François. 

Hourly barometrical observations were made during the day, and, after thedeparture of the party for Fort Hall, we occupied ourselves in continuingour little preparations, and in becoming acquainted with the country inthe vicinity. The bottoms along the river were timbered with several kindsof 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, andJacob, (the colored man, ) were to be left in charge of the camp. We werefavored with most delightful weather. To-night there was a brilliantsunset of golden orange and green, which left the western sky clear andbeautifully pure; but clouds in the east made me lose an occultation. Thesummer frogs were singing around us; and the evening was very pleasant, with a temperature of 60°--a night of a more southern autumn. For oursupper 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 wouldbring forth, and in our busy conjectures we fancied that we should findevery one of the large islands a tangled wilderness of trees andshrubbery, teeming with game of every description that the neighboringregion afforded, and which the foot of a white man or Indian had neverviolated. Frequently, during the day, clouds had rested on the summits oftheir lofty mountains, and we believed that we should find clear streamsand springs of fresh water; and we indulged in anticipations of theluxurious repasts with which we were to indemnify ourselves for pastprivations. Neither, in our discussions, were the whirlpool and othermysterious dangers forgotten, which Indian and hunters' stories attributedto this unexplored lake. The men had found that, instead of being stronglysewed, (like that of the preceding year, which had so triumphantly rodethe canons of the upper Great Platte, ) our present boat was only pastedtogether in a very insecure manner, the maker having been allowed solittle time in the construction, that he was obliged to crowd the labor oftwo months into several days. The insecurity of the boat was sensibly feltby us; and, mingled with the enthusiasm and excitement that we all felt atthe prospect of an undertaking which had never before been accomplished, was a certain impression of danger, sufficient to give a serious characterto our conversation. The momentary view which had been had of the lake theday before, its great extent and rugged islands, dimly seen amidst thedark waters in the obscurity of the sudden storm, were calculated toheighten the idea of undefined danger with which the lake was generallyassociated. 

8th. --A calm, clear day, with a sunrise temperature of 41°. In view of ourpresent enterprise, a part of the equipment of the boat had been made toconsist in three air-tight bags, about three feet long, and capable eachof containing five gallons. These had been filled with water the nightbefore, and were now placed in the boat, with our blankets andinstruments, consisting of a sextant, telescope, spy-glass, thermometer, and barometer. 

We left the camp at sunrise, and had a very pleasant voyage down theriver, in which there was generally eight or ten feet of water, deepeningas we neared the mouth in the latter part of the day. In the course of themorning we discovered that two of the cylinders leaked so much as torequire one man constantly at the bellows, to keep them sufficiently fullof air to support the boat. Although we had made a very early start, weloitered so much on the way--stopping every now and then, and floatingsilently along, to get a shot at a goose or duck--that it was late in theday when we reached the outlet. The river here divided into severalbranches, filled with fluvials, and so very shallow that it was withdifficulty 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 aquantity of drift-wood, which served for our fires. The evening was mildand clear; we made a pleasant bed of young willows; and geese and ducksenough had been killed for an abundant supper at night, and for breakfastthe next morning. The stillness of the night was enlivened by millions ofwater-fowl. Lat. (by observation) 41° 11' 26"; and long. 112° 11' 30". 

9th. --The day was clear and calm; the thermometer at sunrise at 49°. As isusual with the trappers on the eve of any enterprise, our people had madedreams, and theirs happened to be a bad one--one which always precededevil--and consequently they looked very gloomy this morning; but wehurried through our breakfast, in order to made an early start, and haveall the day before us for our adventure. The channel in a short distancebecame so shallow that our navigation was at an end, being merely a sheetof 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 absolutelycovered 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 themud, as we sank above the knee at every step. The water here was stillfresh, with only an insipid and disagreeable taste, probably derived fromthe bed of fetid mud. After proceeding in this way about a mile, we cameto a small black ridge on the bottom, beyond which the water becamesuddenly salt, beginning gradually to deepen, and the bottom was sandy andfirm. It was a remarkable division, separating the fresh waters of therivers from the briny water of the lake, which was entirely_saturated_ with common salt. Pushing our little vessel across thenarrow boundary, we sprang on board, and at length were afloat on thewaters of the unknown sea. 

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

The form of the boat seemed to be an admirable one, and it rode on thewaves like a water-bird; but, at the same time, it was extremely slow inits 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 theconstant use of the bellows to keep in a sufficient quantity of air. For along time we scarcely seemed to approach our island, but gradually weworked across the rougher sea of the open channel, into the smoother waterunder the lee of the island, and began to discover that what we took for along row of pelicans, ranged on the beach, were only low cliffs whitenedwith 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 aconsiderable depth. 

It was a handsome broad beach where we landed, behind which the hill, intowhich the island was gathered, rose somewhat abruptly; and a point of rockat one end enclosed it in a sheltering way; and as there was an abundanceof drift-wood along the shore, it offered us a pleasant encampment. We didnot suffer our frail boat to touch the sharp rocks, but, gettingoverboard, discharged the baggage, and, lifting it gently out of thewater, carried it to the upper part of the beach, which was composed ofvery small fragments of rock. 

Among the successive banks of the beach, formed by the action of thewaves, our attention, as we approached the island, had been attracted byone 10 to 20 feet in breadth, of a dark-brown color. Being more closelyexamined, this was found to be composed, to the depth of seven or eightand twelve inches, entirely of the _larvæ_ of insects, or, in commonlanguage; of the skins of worms, about the size of a grain of oats, whichhad been washed up by the waters of the lake. 

Alluding to this subject some months afterwards, when traveling through amore 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 menin a mountain country east of the great California range, he surprised aparty of several Indian families encamped near a small salt lake, whoabandoned their lodges at his approach, leaving every thing behind them. Being in a starving condition, they were delighted to find in theabandoned lodges a number of skin bags, containing a quantity of whatappeared 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 bagshad been filled. The stomachs of the stout trappers were not proof againsttheir prejudices, and the repulsive food was suddenly rejected. Mr. Walkerhad further opportunities of seeing these worms used as an article offood; and I am inclined to think they are the same as those we saw, andappear to be a product of the salt lakes. It may be well to recall to yourmind that Mr. Walker was associated with Capt. Bonneville in hisexpedition to the Rocky mountains, and has since that time remained in thecountry, generally residing in some one of the Snake villages, when notengaged in one of his numerous trapping expeditions, in which he iscelebrated as one of the best and bravest leaders who have ever been inthe country. 

The cliffs and masses of rock along the shore were whitened by anincrustation of salt where the waves dashed up against them; and theevaporating water, which had been left in holes and hollows on the surfaceof the rocks, was covered with a crust of salt about one-eighth of an inchin thickness. It appeared strange that, in the midst of this grandreservoir, one of our greatest wants lately had been salt. Exposed to bemore perfectly dried in the sun, this became very white and fine, havingthe 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 anumber of small black insects. 

Carrying with us the barometer and other instruments, in the afternoon weascended to the highest point of the island--a bare, rocky peak, eighthundred feet above the lake. Standing on the summit, we enjoyed anextended view of the lake, enclosed in a basin of rugged mountains, whichsometimes left marshy flats and extensive bottoms between them and theshore, and in other places came directly down into the water with bold andprecipitous bluffs. Following with our glasses the irregular shores, wesearched for some indications of a communication with other bodies ofwater, or the entrance of other rivers; but the distance was so great thatwe could make out nothing with certainty. To the southward, severalpeninsular mountains, 3, 000 or 4, 000 feet high, entered the lake, appearing, so far as the distance and our position enabled us todetermine, to be connected by flats and low ridges with the mountains inthe rear. These are probably the islands usually indicated on maps of thisregion as entirely detached from the shore. The season of our operationswas when the waters were at their lowest stage. At the season of highwaters in the spring, it is probable that the marshes and low grounds areoverflowed, and the surface of the lake considerably greater. In severalplaces the view was of unlimited extent--here and there a rocky isletappearing above the waters, at a great distance; and beyond, every thingwas vague and undefined. As we looked over the vast expanse of waterspread out beneath us, and strained our eyes along the silent shores overwhich hung so much doubt and uncertainty, and which were so full ofinterest to us, I could hardly repress the almost irresistible desire tocontinue our explorations; but the lengthening snow on the mountains was aplain indication of the advancing season, and our frail linen boatappeared so insecure that I was unwilling to trust our lives to theuncertainties of the lake. I therefore unwillingly resolved to terminateour survey here, and remain satisfied for the present with what we hadbeen able to add to the unknown geography of the region. We felt pleasure, also, in remembering that we were the first who, in the traditionaryannals of the country, had visited the islands, and broken, with thecheerful sound of human voices, the long solitude of the place. From thepoint where we were standing, the ground fell off on every side to thewater, giving us a perfect view of the island, which is twelve or thirteenmiles in circumference, being simply a rocky hill, on which there isneither water nor trees of any kind; although the _Fremontiavermicularis_, which was in great abundance, might easily be taken fortimber at a distance. The plant seemed here to delight in a congenial air, growing in extraordinary luxuriance seven to eight feet high, and was veryabundant on the upper parts of the island, where it was almost the onlyplant. This is eminently a saline shrub; its leaves have a salt taste; andit luxuriates in saline soils, where it is usually a characteristic. It iswidely diffused over all this country. A chenopodiaceous shrub, which is anew species of OBIONE, (O. Rigida, _Torr. And Frem_. , ) was equallycharacteristic of the lower parts of the island. These two are thestriking plants on the island, and belong to a class of plants which forma prominent feature in the vegetation of this country. On the lower partsof the island, also, a prickly pear of very large size was frequent. Onthe shore, near the water, was a woolly species of _phaca_; and a newspecies of umbelliferous plant (_leptotæmia_) was scattered about invery considerable abundance. These constituted all the vegetation that nowappeared upon the island. 

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

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

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

In the morning, the surf was breaking heavily on the shore, and we were upearly. The lake was dark and agitated, and we hurried through our scantybreakfast, and embarked--having first filled one of the buckets with waterfrom the lake, of which it was intended to make salt. The sun had risen bythe 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 whichour 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 thewind and sea, the gale rising with the sun; and there was danger of beingblown into one of the open reaches beyond the island. At the distance ofhalf a mile from the beach, the depth of the water was 16 feet, with aclay bottom; but, as the working of the boat was very severe labor, andduring the operation of sounding it was necessary to cease paddling, during which the boat lost considerable way, I was unwilling to discouragethe men, and reluctantly gave up my intention of ascertaining the depthand the character of the bed. There was a general shout in the boat whenwe found ourselves in one fathom, and we soon after landed on a low pointof mud, immediately under the butte of the peninsula, where we unloadedthe boat, and carried the baggage about a quarter of a mile to firmerground. We arrived just in time for meridian observation, and carried thebarometer 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 milesdistant; Basil accompanying him, to bring back horses for the boat andbaggage. 

The rude-looking shelter we raised on the shore, our scattered baggage andboat lying on the beach, made quite a picture; and we called this the_Fisherman's camp_. _Lynosiris graveolens_, and another newspecies of OBIONE, (O. Confertifolia--_Torr. & Frem_. , ) were growingon 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 hadincreased to such a height that a man could scarcely stand before it; andwe were obliged to pack our baggage hastily, as the rising water of thelake had already reached the point where we were halted. Looking back aswe rode off, we found the place of recent encampment entirely covered. Thelow plain through which we rode to the camp was covered with a compactgrowth of shrubs of extraordinary size and luxuriance. The soil was sandyand saline; flat places, resembling the beds of ponds, that were bare ofvegetation, and covered with a powdery white salt, being interspersedamong the shrubs. Artemisia tridentata was very abundant, but the plantswere principally saline; a large and vigorous chenopodiaceous shrub, fiveto eight feet high, being characteristic, with Fremontia vermicularis, anda shrubby plant which seems to be a new _salicornia_. We reached thecamp in time to escape a thunder-storm which blackened the sky, and werereceived with a discharge of the howitzer by the people, who, having beenunable to see any thing of us on the lake, had begun to feel someuneasiness. 

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

 Analysis of the salt. 

Chloride of sodium, (common salt, ) --- 97. 80Chloride of calcium, ----------------- 0. 61Chloride of magnesium, --------------- 0. 24Sulphate of soda, -------------------- 0. 23Sulphate 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 thatlake which our road of 1844 crosses in coming up from the southward. WhenI was on this stream with Mr. Walker in that year, he informed me that onthe upper part of the river are immense beds of rock-salt of very greatthickness, which he had frequently visited. Farther to the southward, therivers which are affluent to the Colorado, such as the Rio Virgen, andGila river, near their mouths, are impregnated with salt by the cliffs ofrock-salt between which they pass. These mines occur in the same ridge inwhich, about 120 miles to the northward, and subsequently in their moreimmediate neighborhood, we discovered the fossils belonging to the ooliticperiod, and they are probably connected with that formation, and are thedeposite from which the Great Lake obtains its salt. Had we remainedlonger, we should have found them in its bed, and in the mountains aroundits shores. By observation the latitude of this camp is 41° 15' 50", andlongitude 112° 06" 43". 

The observations made during our stay give for the rate of the chronometer31. 72", corresponding almost exactly with the rate obtained at St. Vrain'sfort. Barometrical observations were made almost hourly during the day. This morning we breakfasted on yampah, and had only kamas for supper; buta cup of good coffee still distinguished us from our _Digger_acquaintances. 

12th. --The morning was clear and calm, with a temperature at sunrise of32°. We resumed our journey late in the day, returning by nearly the sameroute which we had traveled in coming to the lake; and, avoiding thepassage of Hawthorn creek, struck the hills a little below the hot salt-springs. The flat plain we had here passed over consisted alternately oftolerably good sandy soil and of saline plats. We encamped early on Clearcreek, at the foot of the high ridge; one of the peaks of which weascertained by measurement to be 4, 210 feet above the lake, or about 8, 400feet above the sea. Behind these front peaks the ridge rises towards theBear River mountains, which are probably as high as the Wind River chain. This creek is here unusually well timbered with a variety of trees. Amongthem were birch, (_betula_, ) the narrow-leaved poplar, (_populusangustifolia_, ) several kinds of willow, (_solix_, ) hawthorn, (_cratægus_, ) alder, (_alnus viridis_, ) and _cerasus_, withan oak allied to _quercus alba_, but very distinct from that or anyother 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°, musquitoes weresufficiently 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 limestonewhich we had observed in the same ridge to the northward, alternating herewith a granular quartz already mentioned. One of these streams, whichforms a smaller lake near the river, was broken up into several channels;and the irrigated bottom of fertile soil was covered with innumerableflowers, among which were purple fields of _eupatorium purpureum_, with helianthi, a handsome solidago, (_S. Canadensis_, ) and a varietyof other plants in bloom. Continuing along the foot of the hills, in theafternoon we found five or six hot-springs gushing out together, beneath aconglomerate, consisting principally of fragments of a grayish-bluelimestone, efflorescing a salt upon the surface. The temperature of thesesprings was 134°, and the rocks in the bed were colored with a reddeposite, and there was common salt crystallized on the margin. There wasalso a white incrustation upon leaves and roots, consisting principally ofcarbonate of lime. There were rushes seen along the road this afternoon, and the soil under the hills was very black, and apparently very good; butat 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 thisvalley bearing north by compass. The night was mild, with a very clearsky; and I obtained a very excellent observation of an occultation of Tau. Arietis, with other observations. Both immersion and emersion of the starwere observed; but, as our observations have shown, the phase at thebright limb generally gives incorrect longitudes, and we have adopted theresult obtained from the emersion at the dark limb, without allowing anyweight to the immersion. According to these observations, the longitude is112° 05' 12", and the latitude 41° 42' 43". All the longitudes on the lineof our outward journey, between St. Vrain's fort and the Dalles of theColumbia, which were not directly determined by satellites, have beenchronometrically referred to this place. 

The people to-day were rather low-spirited, hunger making them very quietand peaceable; and there was rarely an oath to be heard in the camp--noteven a solitary _enfant de garce_. It was time for the men with anexpected supply of provisions from Mr. Fitzpatrick to be in theneighborhood; and the gun was fired at evening, to give notice of ourlocality, but met with no response. 

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

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

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

Shortly afterwards we met an Indian on horseback who had killed anantelope, which we purchased of him for a little powder and some balls. Wecrossed the Roseaux, and encamped on the left bank; halting early for thepleasure of enjoying a wholesome and abundant supper, and were pleasantlyengaged in protracting our unusual comfort, when Tabeau galloped into thecamp with news that Mr. Fitzpatrick was encamped close by us, with a goodsupply of provisions--flour, rice, and dried meat, and even a littlebutter. Excitement to-night made us all wakeful; and after a breakfastbefore sunrise the next morning, we were again on the road, and, continuing up the valley, crossed some high points of hills, and halted tonoon on the same stream, near several lodges of Snake Indians, from whomwe purchased about a bushel of service-berries, partially dried. By thegift of a knife, I prevailed upon a little boy to show me the_kooyah_ plant, which proved to be _valeriana edulis_. The rootwhich constitutes the _kooyah_, is large, of a very bright yellowcolor, with the characteristic odor, but not so fully developed as in theprepared substance. It loves the rich moist soil of river bottoms, whichwas the locality in which I always afterwards found it. It was nowentirely out of bloom; according to my observation, flowering in themonths of May and June. In the afternoon we entered a long ravine leadingto a pass in the dividing ridge between the waters of Bear river and theSnake river, or Lewis's fork of the Columbia; our way being very muchimpeded, and almost entirely blocked up, by compact fields of luxuriantartemisia. Taking leave at this point of the waters of Bear river, and ofthe geographical basin which encloses the system of rivers and creekswhich belong to the Great Salt Lake, and which so richly deserves a futuredetailed and ample exploration, I can say of it, in general terms, thatthe 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 inall time to come. The bottoms are extensive; water excellent; timbersufficient; the soil good, and well adapted to grains and grasses suitedto 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 willfurnish exhaustless supplies of salt. All the mountains here are coveredwith a valuable nutritious grass, called bunch-grass, from the form inwhich it grows, which has a second growth in the fall. The beasts of theIndians were fat upon it; our own found it a good subsistence; and itsquantity will sustain any amount of cattle, and make this truly a bucolicregion. 

We met here an Indian family on horseback, which had been out to gatherservice-berries, and were returning loaded. This tree was scattered abouton the hills; and the upper part of the pass was timbered with aspen, (_populus trem. _;) the common blue flowering-flax occurring among theplants. The approach to the pass was very steep, and the summit about6, 300 feet above the sea--probably only an uncertain approximation, as atthe time of observation it was blowing a violent gale of wind from thenorthwest, with _cumuli_ scattered in masses over the sky, the dayotherwise bright and clear. We descended, by a steep slope, into a broadopen valley--good soil--from four to five miles wide, coming downimmediately upon one of the head-waters of the Pannack river, which hereloses itself in swampy ground. The appearance of the country here is notvery interesting. On either side is a regular range of mountains of theusual character, with a little timber, tolerably rocky on the right, andhigher and more smooth on the left, with still higher peaks looking outabove the range. The valley afforded a good level road, but it was latewhen it brought us to water, and we encamped at dark. The north-west windhad blown up very cold weather, and the artemisia, which was our firewoodto-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 andmoist, but on every little eminence, where water does not rest long, itmaintains absolute possession. Elevation above the sea about 5, 100 feet. 

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

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

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

18th. --The day clear and calm, with a temperature of 25° at sunrise. Aftertraveling seven or eight miles, we emerged on the plains of the Columbia, in sight of the famous "_Three Buttes_, " a well-known landmark in thecountry, distant about 45 miles. The French word _butte_, which sooften occurs in this narrative, is retained from the familiar language ofthe country, and identifies the objects to which it refers. It isnaturalized in the region of the Rocky mountains, and, even if desirableto render it in English, I know of no word which would be its preciseequivalent. It is applied to the detached hills and ridges which riserapidly, and reach too high to be called hills or ridges, and not highenough to be called mountains. _Knob_, as applied in the westernstates, is their descriptive term in English. _Cerro_ is the Spanishterm; but no translation, or periphrasis, would preserve the identity ofthese picturesque landmarks, familiar to the traveler, and often seen at agreat distance. Covered as far as could be seen with artemisia, the darkand ugly appearance of this plain obtained for it the name of _SageDesert_; and we were agreeably surprised, on reaching the Portneufriver, to see a beautiful green valley with scattered timber spread outbeneath us, on which, about four miles distant, were glistening the whitewalls of the fort. The Portneuf runs along the upland plain nearly to itsmouth, and an abrupt descent of perhaps two hundred feet brought us downimmediately 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, withapparently deep water. 

In the bottom I remarked a very great number of springs and sloughs, withremarkably 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 havingmet with any mischance in the interval of our separation. They, too, hadhad their share of fatigue and scanty provisions, as there had been verylittle 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 itbegan snowing thickly, and continued all day, with cold, disagreeableweather. At sunrise the temperature was 43°. I rode up to the fort, andpurchased from Mr. Grant (the officer in charge of the post) several veryindifferent horses, and five oxen, in very fine order, which were receivedat the camp with great satisfaction: and, one being killed at evening, theusual 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 wasat 34°; the morning was dark, with a steady rain, and there was still aninch of snow on the ground, with an abundance on the neighboring hills andmountains. The sudden change in the weather was hard for our animals, whotrembled 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 alittle grass, or eating the young willows. 

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

22d. --The morning was cloudy and unpleasant, and at sunrise a cold raincommenced, with a temperature of 41°. 

The early approach of winter, and the difficulty of supporting a largeparty, determined me to send back a number of the men who had becomesatisfied that they were not fitted for the laborious service and frequentprivation to which they were necessarily exposed, and which there wasreason to believe would become more severe in the further extension of thevoyage. I accordingly called them together, and, informing them of myintention to continue our journey during the ensuing winter, in the courseof which they would probably be exposed to considerable hardship, succeeded in prevailing on a number of them to return voluntarily. Thesewere: Charles de Forrest, Henry Lee, J. Campbell, Wm. Creuss, A. Vasquez;A. Pera, Patrick White, B. Tesson, M. Creely, François Lajeunesse, BasilLajeunesse. 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 hisfamily, to be at home in the coming winter. Our preparations having beencompleted in the interval of our stay here, both parties were ready thismorning 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 alreadybeen described to you, and would be another excellent post of relief forthe emigration. It is in the low rich bottom of a valley, apparently 20miles long, formed by the confluence of Portneuf river with Lewis's forkof the Columbia, which it enters about nine miles below the fort, andnarrowing gradually to the mouth of the Pannack river, where it has abreadth of only two or three miles. Allowing 50 miles for the road fromthe _Beer springs_ of Bear river to Fort Hall, its distance along the_traveled_ road from the town of Westport, on the frontier ofMissouri, 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 ofthe Upper Columbia, there does not occur, for a distance of nearly 300miles to the westward, a fertile spot of ground sufficiently large toproduce the necessary quantity of grain, or pasturage enough to allow evena temporary repose to the emigrants. On their recent passage, they hadbeen 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, hadnecessarily drawn around it some of the resources of civilization, butwhich obtained nearly all its supplies from the distant depot ofVancouver, by a difficult water-carriage of 250 miles up the Columbiariver, and a land-carriage by pack-horses of 600 miles. An Americanmilitary post, sufficiently strong to give to their road a perfectsecurity against the Indian tribes, who are unsettled in locality and very_uncertain_ in their disposition, and which, with the necessaryfacilities for the repair of their equipage, would be able to afford themrelief in stock and grain from the produce of the post, would be ofextraordinary value to the emigration. Such a post (and all others whichmay be established on the line to Oregon) would naturally form the_nucleus_ of a settlement, at which supplies and repose would beobtained by the emigrant, or trading caravans, which may hereaftertraverse these elevated, and, in many places, desolate and inhospitableregions. 

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 ofits general character in the neighboring country. I characterize it asgood land, but the analysis will show its precise properties. 

 _Analysis of the Soil_. 

Silicina ----------------- 68. 55Alumina ------------------- 7. 45Carbonate of lime --------- 8. 51Carbonate of magnesia ----- 5. 09Oxide of iron ------------- 1. 40Organic vegetable matter -- 4. 74Water and loss ----------- 4. 26 ______

 100. 00

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

Taking leave of the homeward party, we resumed our journey down thevalley, 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 astorm 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 Pannackriver, on Lewis's fork, which here has a breadth of about 120 yards. Thetemperature at sunset was 42°; the sky partially covered with dark, rainyclouds. 

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

24th. --The thermometer at sunrise was 35°, and a blue sky in the westpromised a fine day. The river bottoms here are narrow and swampy, withfrequent sloughs; and after crossing the Pannack, the road continued alongthe uplands, rendered very slippery by the soil of wet clay, and entirelycovered with artemisia bushes, among which occur frequent fragments ofobsidian. At noon we encamped in a grove of willows, at the upper end of agroup of islands about half a mile above the _American falls_ ofSnake river. Among the willows here, were some bushes of Lewis andClarke's currant, (_ribes aureum_. ) The river here enters between lowmural banks, which consist of a fine vesicular trap-rock, the intermediateportions being compact and crystalline. Gradually becoming higher in itsdownward course, these banks of scoriated volcanic rock form, withoccasional interruptions, its characteristic feature along the whole lineto the Dalles of the Lower Columbia, resembling a chasm which had beenrent through the country, and which the river had afterwards taken for itsbed. The immediate valley of the river is a high plain covered with blackrocks and artemisias. In the south is a bordering range of mountains, which, although not very high, are broken and covered with snow; and at agreat distance to the north is seen the high, snowy line of the Salmonriver mountains, in front of which stand out prominently in the plain thethree isolated rugged-looking mountains commonly known as the _ThreeButtes_. Between the river and the distant Salmon river range, theplain is represented by Mr. Fitzpatrick as so entirely broken up and rentinto chasms as to be impracticable for a man even on foot. In the sketchannexed, the point of view is low, but it conveys very well some idea ofthe open character of the country, with the buttes rising out above thegeneral line. By measurement, the river above is 870 feet wide, immediately contracted at the fall in the form of a lock, by jutting pilesof scoriaceous basalt, over which the foaming river must present a grandappearance at the time of high water. The evening was clear and pleasant, with dew; and at sunset the temperature was 54°. By observation, thelatitude is 42° 47' 05", and the longitude 112° 40' 13". A few hundredyards below the falls, and on the left bank of the river is an escarpmentfrom which we obtained some specimens. 

25th. --Thermometer at sunrise 47°. The day came in clear, with a stronggale from the south, which commenced at eleven of the last night. The roadto-day led along the river which is full of rapids and small falls. Grassis very scanty and along the rugged banks are scattered cedars, with anabundance of rocks and sage. We traveled fourteen miles, and encamped inthe afternoon near the river, on a rocky creek, the bed of which wasentirely occupied with boulders of a very large size. For the last threeor four miles the right bank of the river has a palisaded appearance. Oneof the oxen was killed here for food. The thermometer at evening was at55°, the sky almost overcast, and the barometer indicated an elevation of4, 400 feet. 

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

The road along the river bluffs had been occasionally very bad; andimagining that some rough obstacles rendered such a detour necessary, wefollowed for several miles a plain wagon-road leading up this stream, until we reached a point whence it could be seen making directly towards alow place in the range on the south side of the valley, and we becameimmediately aware that we were on a trail formed by a party of wagons, incompany with whom we had encamped at Elm grove, near the frontier ofMissouri, and which you will remember were proceeding to Upper Californiaunder the direction of Mr. Jos. Chiles. At the time of their departure, nopracticable passes were known in the southern Rocky mountains within theterritory of the United States; and the probable apprehension ofdifficulty in attempting to pass near the settled frontier of New Mexico, together with the desert character of the unexplored region beyond, hadinduced them to take a more northern and circuitous route by way of theSweet Water pass and Fort Hall. They had still between them and the valleyof the Sacramento a great mass of mountains, forming the _SierraNevada_, here commonly known as the _Great California mountain_, and which were at this time considered as presenting an impracticablebarrier to wheeled-carriages. Various considerations had suggested to thema division of the party; and a greater portion of the camp, including thewagons, with the mail and other stores, were now proceeding under theguidance of Mr. Joseph Walker, who had engaged to conduct them, by a longsweep to the southward, around what is called the _point of themountain_; and, crossing through a pass known only to himself, gain thebanks of the Sacramento by the valley of the San Joaquin. It was a longand a hazardous journey for a party in which there were women andchildren. Sixty days was the shortest period of time in which they couldreach the point of the mountain, and their route lay through a countryinhabited by wild and badly-disposed Indians, and very poor in game; butthe leader was a man possessing great and intimate knowledge of theIndians, with an extraordinary firmness and decision of character. In themean time, Mr. Chiles had passed down the Columbia with a party of ten ortwelve men, with the intention of reaching the settlements on theSacramento by a more direct course, which indefinite information fromhunters had indicated in the direction of the head-waters of the_Rivière aux Malheurs_; and having obtained there a reinforcement ofanimals, and a supply of provisions, meet the wagons before they shouldhave reached the point of the mountain, at a place which had beenpreviously agreed upon. In the course of our narrative, we shall be ableto give you some information of the fortunes which attended the movementsof these adventurous travelers. 

Having discovered our error, we immediately regained the line along theriver, which the road quitted about noon, and encamped at five o'clock onthe stream called Raft river, (_Rivière aux Cajeux_, ) having traveledonly 13 miles. In the north, the Salmon River mountains are visible at avery far distance; and on the left, the ridge in which Raft river heads isabout 20 miles distant, rocky, and tolerably high. Thermometer at sunset44°, 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, totravel regularly every day, and find at any moment a convenient place forrepose at noon or a camp at night; but the halting-places were nowgenerally fixed along the road, by the nature of the country, at placeswhere, with water, there was a little scanty grass. Since leaving theAmerican falls, the road had frequently been very bad; the many short, steep ascents, exhausting the strength of our worn-out animals, requiringalways at such places the assistance of the men to get up each cart, oneby one; and our progress with twelve or fourteen wheeled-carriages, thoughlight and made for the purpose, in such a rocky country, was extremelyslow; and I again determined to gain time by a division of the camp. Accordingly, to-day, the parties again separated, constituted very much asbefore--Mr. Fitzpatrick remaining in charge of the heavier baggage. 

The morning was calm and clear, with a white frost, and the temperature atsunrise 24°. 

To-day the country had a very forbidding appearance; and, after traveling20 miles over a slightly undulating plain, we encamped at a considerablespring, called Swamp creek, rising in low grounds near the point of a spurfrom the mountain. Returning with a small party in a starving conditionfrom the westward 12 or 14 years since, Carson had met here three or fourbuffalo bulls, two of which were killed. They were among the pioneerswhich had made the experiment of colonizing in the valley of the Columbia, and which had failed, as heretofore stated. At sunset the thermometer wasat 46°, and the evening was overcast, with a cool wind from the S. E. , andto-night we had only sage for firewood. Mingled with the artemisia was ashrubby and thorny chenopodiaceous plant. 

28th. -Thermometer at sunrise 40°. The wind rose early to a gale from thewest, with a very cold driving rain; and, after an uncomfortable day'sride 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 islandscovered with cedar, near the commencement of another long canon of theriver. With the exception of a short detention at a deep little streamcalled Goose creek, and some occasional rocky places, we had to-day a verygood road; but the country has a barren appearance, sandy, and denselycovered with the artemisias from the banks of the river to the foot of themountains. Here I remarked, among the sage bushes, green bunches of whatis called the second growth of grass. The river to-day has had a smoothappearance, free from rapids, with a low sandy hill-slope bordering thebottoms, in which there is a little good soil. Thermometer at sunset 45°, blowing a gale, and disagreeably cold. 

29th. --The thermometer at sunrise 36°, with a bright sun, and appearanceof finer weather. The road for several miles was _extremely_ rocky, and consequently bad; but, entering after this a sandy country, it becamevery good, with no other interruption than the sage bushes, which coveredthe river plain as far as the eye could reach, and, with their uniformtint of dark gray, gave to the country a gloomy and sombre appearance. Allthe day the course of the river has been between walls of the blackvolcanic rock, a dark line of the escarpment on the opposite side pointingout its course, and sweeping along in foam at places where the mountainswhich border the valley present always on the left two ranges, the lowerone a spur of the higher; and, on the opposite side, the Salmon Rivermountains are visible at a great distance. Having made 24 miles, weencamped about five o'clock on Rock creek--a stream having considerablewater, a swift current, and wooded with willow. 

30th. --Thermometer at sunrise 28°. In its progress towards the river, thiscreek soon enters a chasm of the volcanic rock, which in places along thewall presents a columnar appearance; and the road becomes extremely rockywhenever it passes near its banks. It is only about twenty feet wide wherethe road crosses it, with a deep bed, and steep banks, covered with rockyfragments, with willows and a little grass on its narrow bottom. The soilappears to be full of calcareous matter, with which the rocks areincrusted. The fragments of rock which had been removed by the emigrantsin making a road, where we ascended from the bed of this creek, werewhitened with lime; and during the afternoon's march I remarked in thesoil a considerably quantity of calcareous concretions. Towards eveningthe sages became more sparse, and the clear spaces were occupied by tuftsof green grass. The river still continued its course through a trough, oropen canon; and towards sunset we followed the trail of several wagonswhich 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 thesage being entirely naked; but there is occasionally a little bottom alongthe river, which a short ravine of rocks, at rare intervals, leavesaccessible; and by one of these we drove our animals down, and found sometolerably good grass bordering the water. 

Immediately opposite to us, a subterranean river bursts out directly fromthe face of the escarpment, and falls in white foam to the river below. The main river is enclosed with mural precipices, which form itscharacteristic feature along a great portion of its course. A melancholyand 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 ofthe people, he was found to be remarkably fat. As usual at suchoccurrences, the evening was devoted to gayety and feasting; abundant farenow made an epoch among us; and in this laborious life, in such a countryas this, our men had but little else to enjoy. The temperature at sunsetwas 65°, with a clear sky and a very high wind. By the observation of theevening, the encampment was in longitude 114° 25' 04", and in latitude42° 38' 44". 

OCTOBER. 

1st. --The morning clear, with wind from the west, and the thermometer at55°. We descended to the bottoms, taking with us the boat, for the purposeof visiting the fall in the opposite cliffs; and while it was being filledwith air, we occupied ourselves in measuring the river, which is 1, 786feet in breadth, with banks 200 feet high. We were surprised, on ourarrival at the opposite side, to find a beautiful basin of clear water, formed by the falling river, around which the rocks were whitened by somesaline 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 adense growth of shrubs and fields of cane; and there were frequent hiddencrevices among the rocks, where the water was heard rushing below; but wesucceeded in reaching the main stream, which, issuing from between strataof the trap-rock in two principal branches, produced almost immediately atorrent, 22 feet wide, and white with foam. It is a picturesque spot ofsingular beauty, overshadowed by bushes, from under which the torrentglances, tumbling into the white basin below, where the clear watercontrasted beautifully with the muddy stream of the river. Its outlet wascovered with a rank growth of canes, and a variety of unusual plants, andnettles, (_urtica canabina_, ) which, before they were noticed, hadset our hands and arms on fire. The temperature of the spring was 58°, while that of the river was 51°. The perpendicular height of the place atwhich this stream issues is 45 feet above the river, and 162 feet belowthe summit of the precipice--making nearly 200 feet for the height of thewall. On the hill-side here was obtained a specimen consisting principallyof fragments of the shells of small crustacea, and which was probablyformed by deposition from these springs, proceeding from some lake orriver in the highlands above. 

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

Our encampment was about one mile below the _Fishing falls_--a seriesof cataracts with very inclined planes, which are probably so namedbecause they form a barrier to the ascent of the salmon; and the greatfisheries, from which the inhabitants of this barren region almostentirely derive a subsistence, commence at this place. These appeared tobe unusually gay savages, fond of loud laughter; and, in their apparentgood nature and merry character, struck me as being entirely differentfrom the Indians we had been accustomed to see. From several who visitedour camp in the evening, we purchased, in exchange for goods, driedsalmon. 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 inthe spring, they are so abundant that they merely throw in their spears atrandom, certain of bringing out a fish. 

These poor people are but slightly provided with winter clothing; there isbut little game to furnish skins for the purpose; and of a little animalwhich seemed to be the most numerous, it required 20 skins to make acovering to the knees. But they are still a joyous, talkative race, whogrow 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 encampedimmediately on the river bank, and with the salmon jumping up out of thewater, and Indians paddling about in boats made of rushes, or laughingaround 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 calcareousmatter is visible in the soil. The thermometer at sunset 74°, clear andcalm. 

2d. --The sunrise temperature was 48°; the weather clear and calm. Shortlyafter leaving the encampment, we crossed a stream of clear water, with avariable breadth of 10 to 25 yards, broken by rapids, and lightly woodedwith willow, and having a little grass on its small bottom-land. Thebarrenness of the country is in fine contrast to-day with the mingledbeauty and grandeur of the river, which is more open than hitherto, with aconstant succession of falls and rapids. Over the edge of the blackcliffs, and out from their faces, are falling numberless streams andsprings; and all the line of the river is in motion with the play of thewater. In about seven miles we reached the most beautiful and picturesquefall I had seen on the river. 

On the opposite side, the vertical fall is perhaps 18 feet high; andnearer, the sheet of foaming water is divided and broken into cataracts, where several little islands on the brink and in the river above, give itmuch picturesque beauty, and make it one of those places the travelerturns again and again to fix in his memory. There were several lodges ofIndians here, from whom we traded salmon. Below this place the river makesa remarkable bend; and the road, ascending the ridge, gave us a fine viewof the river below, intersected at many places by numerous fish dams. Inthe north, about 50 miles distant, were some high snowy peaks of theSalmon River mountains; and in the northeast, the last peak of the rangewas visible at the distance of perhaps 100 miles or more. The river hillsconsist of very broken masses of sand, covered everywhere with the sameinterminable fields of sage, and occasionally the road is very heavy. Wenow frequently saw Indians, who were strung along the river at everylittle rapid where fish are to be caught, and the cry _haggai, haggai_, (fish, ) was constantly heard whenever we passed near theirhuts, or met them in the road. Very many of them were oddly and partiallydressed in overcoat, shirt, waistcoat, or pantaloons, or whatever articleof clothing they had been able to procure in trade from the emigrants; forwe had now entirely quitted the country where hawks' bells, beads, andvermilion were the current coin, and found that here only useful articles, and chiefly clothing, were in great request. These, however, are eagerlysought after; and for a few trifling pieces of clothing, travelers mayprocure 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 plainscontaining a considerable proportion of calcareous matter. This greenfreshness 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 inan unbroken volume goes over a descent of several feet. The night isclear, and the weather continues very warm and pleasant, with a sunsettemperature of 70°. 

3d. --The morning was pleasant, with a temperature at sunrise of 42°. Theroad was broken by ravines among the hills, and in one of these, whichmade the bed of a dry creek, I found a fragmentary stratum, or brecciatedconglomerate, consisting of flinty slate pebbles, with fragments oflimestone 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 outfrom beyond, and indicate that the main ridge, which we are leaving withthe course of the river, and which forms the northern boundary of theGreat Basin, still maintains its elevation. About two o'clock we arrivedat the ford where the road crosses to the right bank of Snake river. AnIndian was hired to conduct us through the ford, which provedimpracticable for us, the water sweeping away the howitzer and nearlydrowning the mules, which we were obliged to extricate by cutting them outof the harness. The river here is expanded into a little bay, in whichthere are two islands, across which is the road of the ford; and theemigrants had passed by placing two of their heavy wagons abreast of eachother, so as to oppose a considerable mass against the body of water. TheIndians informed us that one of the men, in attempting to turn some cattlewhich had taken a wrong direction, was carried off by the current anddrowned. Since their passage, the water had risen considerably; but, fortunately, we had a resource in a boat, which was filled with air andlaunched; and at seven o'clock we were safely encamped on the oppositebank, the animals swimming across, and the carriage, howitzer, and baggageof the camp, being carried over in the boat. At the place where wecrossed, above the islands, the river had narrowed to a breadth of 1, 049feet by measurement, the greater portion of which was from six to eightfeet deep. We were obliged to make our camp where we landed, among theIndian lodges, which are semicircular huts made of willow, thatched overwith straw, and open to the sunny south. By observation, the latitude ofour encampment on the right bank of the river was 42° 55' 58";chronometric longitude 115° 04' 46", and the traveled distance from FortHall 208 miles. 

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

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

Wind increased to a violent gale from the N. W. , with a temperature atsunset of 57°. 

5th. . --The morning was calm and clear, and at sunrise the thermometer wasat 32°. The road to-day was occasionally extremely rocky, with hardvolcanic fragments, and our traveling very slow. In about nine miles theroad brought us to a group of smoking hot springs, with a temperature of164°. There were a few helianthi in bloom, with some other low plants, andthe 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 theBasin spring on Bear river. They form several branches, and bubble up withforce enough to raise the small pebbles several inches. The following isan analysis of the deposite with which the rocks are incrusted:

Silica------------------------ 72. 55Carbonate of lime------------- 14. 60Carbonate of magnesia -------- 1. 20Oxide of iron----------------- 4. 65Alumina----------------------- 0. 70

Chloride of sodium, &c. -- }Sulphate of soda--------- }---- 1. 10Sulphate of lime, &c. ---- }

Organic vegetable matter- }---- 5. 20Water and loss----------- } ______ 100. 00

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

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

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

In quitting for a time the artemisia (sage) through which we had been solong voyaging, and the sombre appearance of which is so discouraging, Ihave to remark, that I have been informed that in Mexico wheat is grownupon the ground which produces this shrub; which, if true, relieves thesoil 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 thehills and mountains, and always nutritious, even in its dry state. Wepassed on the way masses of granite on the slope of the spur, which wasvery much weathered and abraded. This is a white feldspathic granite, withsmall scales of black mica; smoky quartz and garnets appear to constitutethis portion of the mountain. 

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

7th. --The day was bright, clear, pleasant, with a temperature of 45°; andwe breakfasted at sunrise, the birds singing in the trees as merrily as ifwe were in the midst of summer. On the upper edge of the hills on theopposite side of the creek, the black volcanic rock appears; and ascendingthese, the road passed through a basin, around which the hills swept insuch a manner as to give it the appearance of an old crater. Here werestrata and broken beds of black scoriated rock, and hills composed of thesame, on the summit of one of which there was an opening resembling arent. We traveled to-day through a country resembling that of yesterday, where, although the surface was hilly, the road was good, being firm, andentirely free from rocks and artemisia. To our left, below, was the greatsage plain; and on the right were the near mountains, which presented asmoothly-broken character, or rather a surface waved into numberlesshills. The road was occasionally enlivened by meeting Indians, and the daywas extremely beautiful and pleasant; and we were pleased to be free fromthe sage, even for a day. When we had traveled about eight miles, we werenearly opposite to the highest portion of the mountains on the left sideof the Smoke River valley; and, continuing on a few miles beyond, we camesuddenly in sight of the broad green line of the valley of the _RivièreBoisée_, (wooded river, ) black near the gorge where it debouches intothe plains, with high precipices of basalt, between walls of which itpasses, on emerging from the mountains. Following with the eye its upwardcourse, it appears to be shut in among lofty mountains, confining itsvalley 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 abeautiful, rapid stream, with clear mountain water; and, as the nameindicates, well wooded with some varieties of timber--among which arehandsome cottonwoods. Such a stream had become quite a novelty in thiscountry, and we were delighted this afternoon to make a pleasant campunder fine old trees again. There were several Indian encampmentsscattered along the river; and a number of their inhabitants, in thecourse of the evening, came to the camp on horseback with dried and freshfish, to trade. The evening was clear, and the temperature at sunset 57°. 

At the time of the first occupation of this region by parties engaged inthe fur-trade, a small party of men, under the command of ----- Reid, constituting all the garrison of a small fort on this river, weresurprised and massacred by the Indians; and to this event the stream owesits occasional name of _Reid's river_. On the 8th we traveled about26 miles, the ridge on the right having scattered pines on the upperparts; and, continuing the next day our road along the river bottom, aftera day's travel of 24 miles, we encamped in the evening on the right bankof the river, a mile above the mouth, and early the next morning arrivedat Fort _Boise_. This is a simple dwelling-house on the right bank ofSnake river, about a mile below the mouth of Rivière Boisée; and on ourarrival we were received with an agreeable hospitality by Mr. Payette, anofficer of the Hudson's Bay Company, in charge of the fort, all of whosegarrison consisted in a Canadian _engagé_. 

Here the road recrosses the river, which is broad and deep; but, with ourgood boat, aided by two canoes, which were found at the place, the campwas very soon transferred to the left bank. Here we found ourselves againsurrounded by the sage; artemisia tridentata, and the different shrubswhich during our voyage had always made their appearance abundantly onsaline soils, being here the prevailing and almost the only plants. Amongthem the surface was covered with the usual saline efflorescences, whichhere consist almost entirely of carbonate of soda, with a small portion ofchloride of sodium. Mr. Payette had made but slight attempts atcultivation, his efforts being limited to raising a few vegetables, inwhich he succeeded tolerably well; the post being principally supported bysalmon. He was very hospitable and kind to us, and we made a sensibleimpression upon all his comestibles; but our principal inroad was into thedairy, which was abundantly supplied, stock appearing to thrive extremelywell; and we had an unusual luxury in a present of fresh butter, whichwas, however, by no means equal to that of Fort Hall--probably from someaccidental cause. During the day we remained here, there were considerablenumbers of miserable, half-naked Indians around the fort, who had arrivedfrom the neighboring mountains. During the summer, the only subsistence ofthese people is derived from the salmon, of which they are not providentenough to lay up a sufficient store for the winter, during which many ofthem die from absolute starvation. 

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

Pointing to the group of Indians who had just arrived from the mountainson the left side of the valley, and who were regarding our usualappliances of civilization with an air of bewildered curiosity, Mr. Payette informed me that, every year since his arrival at this post, hehad unsuccessfully endeavored to induce these people to lay up a store ofsalmon for their winter provision. While the summer weather and the salmonlasted, they lived contentedly and happily, scattered along the differentstreams where fish are to be found; and as soon as the winter snows beganto, fall, little smokes would be seen rising among the mountains, wherethey would be found in miserable groups, starving out the winter; andsometimes, according to the general belief, reduced to the horror ofcannibalism--the strong, of course, preying on the weak. Certain it isthey are driven to any extremity for food, and eat every insect, and everycreeping 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 thePacific waters, these people use the Shoshonee or Snake language, whichyou will have occasion to remark, in the course of the narrative, is theuniversal language over a very extensive region. 

On the evening of the 10th, I obtained, with the usual observations, avery excellent emersion of the first satellite, agreeing very nearly withthe chronometer. From these observations, the longitude of the fort is116° 47' 00", latitude 43° 49' 22", and elevation above the sea 2, 100feet. 

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

11th. --The morning was clear, with a light breeze from the east, and atemperature at sunrise of 33°. 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 directlyleaving the river, and crossing the artemisia plain, in several ascents wereached the foot of a ridge, where the road entered a dry sandy hollow, upwhich it continued to the head; and, crossing a dividing ridge, entered asimilar one. We met here two poor emigrants, (Irishmen, ) who had losttheir horses two days since--probably stolen by the Indians; and werereturning to the fort, in hopes to hear something of them there. They hadrecently had nothing to eat; and I halted to unpack an animal, and gavethem meat for their dinner. In this hollow, the artemisia is partiallydisplaced on the hill-sides by grass; and descending it -- miles, aboutsunset we reached the _Rivière aux Malheurs_, (the unfortunate orunlucky river, )--a considerable stream, with an average breadth of 50feet, and, at this time, 18 inches' depth of water. 

The bottom lands were generally one and a half mile broad, coveredprincipally with long dry grass; and we had difficulty to find sufficientgood grass for the camp. With the exception of a bad place of a fewhundred yards long, which occurred in rounding a point of hill to reachthe 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°. My attention was attracted by a smoke on the right side of the river, alittle below the ford, where I found, on the low banks near the water, aconsiderable number of hot springs, in which the temperature of the waterwas 193°. The ground, which was too hot for the naked foot, was coveredabove and below the springs with an incrustation of common salt, verywhite and good, and fine-grained. 

Leading for five miles up a broad dry branch of the Malheurs river, theroad entered a sandy hollow, where the surface was rendered firm by theadmixture of other rock; being good and level until arriving near the headof the ravine, where it became a little rocky, and we met with a number ofsharp 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 ahead of the _Rivière aux Bouleaux_, (Birch river;) and descendingseven miles, we found, at its junction with another branch, a littlewater, not very good or abundant, but sufficient, in case of necessity, for a camp. Crossing Birch river, we continued for about four miles acrossa point of hill; the country on the left being entirely mountainous, withno 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; althoughwe hear the roar, and see below us the commencement of rapids, where itenters among the hills. It forms here a deep bay, with a low sand islandin the midst; and its course among the mountains is agreeably exchangedfor the black volcanic rock. The weather during the day had been verybright and extremely hot; but, as usual, so soon as the sun went down, itwas necessary to put on overcoats. 

I obtained this evening an observation of an emersion of the firstsatellite, and our observations of the evening place this encampment inlatitude 44° 17' 36", and longitude 116° 56' 45", which is the mean of theresults from the satellite and chronometer. The elevation above the sea is1, 880 feet. At this encampment, the grass is scanty and poor. 

13th. --The morning was bright, with the temperature at sunrise 28°. Thehorses 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 drumapproaching; and shortly after, three Cayuse Indians appeared in sight, bringing with them the two animals. They belonged to a party which hadbeen on a buffalo-hunt in the neighborhood of the Rocky mountains, andwere hurrying home in advance. We presented them with some tobacco andother things, with which they appeared well satisfied, and, moderatingtheir pace, traveled in company with us. 

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

Leaving entirely the Snake river, which is said henceforth to pursue itsway through canons, amidst rocky and impracticable mountains, where thereis no possibility of traveling with animals, we ascended a long and steephill; and crossing the dividing ridge, came down into the valley of_Burnt_ river, which here looks like a hole among the hills. Theaverage breadth of the stream here is thirty feet; it is well fringed withthe usual small timber; and the soil in the bottoms is good, with bettergrass than we had lately been accustomed to see. 

We now traveled through a very mountainous country; the stream runningrather in a ravine than a valley, and the road is decidedly bad anddangerous for single wagons, frequently crossing the stream where thewater is sometimes deep; and all the day the animals were fatigued inclimbing up and descending a succession of steep ascents, to avoid theprecipitous hill-sides; and the common trail, which leads along themountain-side at places where the river strikes the base, is sometimes badeven for a horseman. The mountains along this day's journey were composed, near the river, of a slaty calcareous rock in a metamorphic condition. Itappears originally to have been a slaty sedimentary limestone, but itspresent condition indicates that it has been altered, and has becomepartially crystalline--probably from the proximity of volcanic rocks. Butthough traveling was slow and fatiguing to the animals, we were delightedwith the appearance of the country, which was green and refreshing afterour tedious journey down the parched valley of Snake river. The mountainswere covered with good bunch-grass, (_festuca_;) the water of thestreams was cold and pure; their bottoms were handsomely wooded withvarious kinds of trees; and huge and lofty picturesque precipices wherethe river cut through the mountain. 

We found in the evening some good grass and rushes; and encamped amonglarge timber, principally birch, which had been recently burnt, andblackened, and almost destroyed by fire. The night was calm and tolerablyclear, with the thermometer at sunset at 59°. Our journey to-day was abouttwenty miles. 

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

15th. --The thermometer at daylight was 42°, and at sunrise 40°; 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-groundbetween the _Brûlée_ (Burnt) and Powder rivers. The rock displayed onthe mountains, as we approached the summit, was a compact trap, decomposedon the exposed surfaces, and apparently an altered argillaceous sandstone, containing small crystalline nodules of anolcime, apparently fillingcavities originally existing. From the summit here, the whole horizonshows high mountains; no high plain or level is to be seen; and on theleft, from south around by the west to north, the mountains are black withpines; while, through the remaining space to the eastward, they are bald, with the exception of some scattered pines. You will remark that we arenow entering a region where all the elevated parts are covered with denseand heavy forests. From the dividing grounds we descended by a mountainroad to Powder river, on an old bed of which we encamped. Descending fromthe summit, we enjoyed a picturesque view of high rocky mountains on theright, illuminated by the setting sun. 

From the heights we had looked in vain for a well known landmark on Powderriver, which had been described to me by Mr. Payette as _l'arbreseul_, (the lone tree;) and, on arriving at the river, we found a finetall pine stretched on the ground, which had been felled by someinconsiderate emigrant axe. It had been a beacon on the road for manyyears past. Our Cayuses had become impatient to reach their homes, andtraveled on ahead to day; and this afternoon we were visited by severalIndians who belonged to the tribes on the Columbia. They were onhorseback, and were out on a hunting excursion, but had obtained no bettergame than a large gray hare, of which each had some six or seven hangingto his saddle. We were also visited by an Indian who had his lodge andfamily in the mountain to the left. He was in want of ammunition, andbrought with him a beaver-skin to exchange, and which he valued at sixcharges of powder and ball. I learned from him that there are very few ofthese animals remaining in this part of the country. 

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

16th. --For several weeks the weather in the daytime has been verybeautiful, 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°, and the same at sunrise, theweather 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 untilnoon, and we made to-day but a short journey of 13 miles, the road beingvery good, and encamped in a fine bottom of Powder river. 

The thermometer at sunset was at 61°, with an easterly wind, and partiallyclear sky; and the day has been quite pleasant and warm, though morecloudy than yesterday; and the sun was frequently faint, but it grew finerand clearer towards evening. 

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

_Analysis of Powder river soil. _

Silica ----------------- 72. 30Alumina ---------------- 6. 25Carbonate of lime ------ 6. 86Carbonate of magnesia -- 4. 62Oxide of iron ---------- 1. 20Organic matter --------- 4. 50Water and loss --------- 4. 27 ______ 100. 00

From the waters of this stream, the road ascended by a good and moderateascent to a dividing ridge, but immediately entered upon ground coveredwith fragments of an altered silicious slate, which are in many placeslarge, and render the road racking to a carriage. In this rock the planesof deposition are distinctly preserved, and the metamorphism is evidentlydue to the proximity of volcanic rocks. On either side, the mountains hereare densely covered with tall and handsome trees; and, mingled with thegreen of a variety of pines, is the yellow of the European larch, (_pinus larix_, ) which loses its leaves in the fall. From its presentcolor, we were enabled to see that it forms a large proportion of theforests on the mountains, and is here a magnificent tree, attainingsometimes 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 beautifullevel 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--oneof the few we have seen on our journey so far--where a farmer woulddelight to establish himself, if he were content to live in the seclusionwhich it imposes. It is about 20 miles in diameter, and may, in time, forma superb county. Probably with the view of avoiding a circuit, the wagonshad directly descended into the _Rond_ by the face of a hill so veryrocky and continuously steep as to be apparently impracticable, and, following down on their trail, we encamped on one of the branches of theGrand Rond river, immediately at the foot of the hill. I had remarked, indescending, some very white spots glistening on the plain, and, going outin that direction after we had encamped, I found them to be the bed of adry salt lake, or marsh, very firm and bare, which was covered thicklywith a fine white powder, containing a large quantity of carbonate ofsoda, (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 sweepsdirectly up to the foot of the surrounding mountains, appears to be veryrich, producing flax spontaneously and luxuriantly in various places. 

 _Analysis of Grand Rond soil. _

Silica, ---------------------------------- 70. 81Alumina, --------------------------------- 10. 97Lime and magnesia, ----------------------- 1. 38Oxide of iron, --------------------------- 2. 21Vegetable matter, partly decomposed, ---- 8. 16Water and loss, -------------------------- 5. 46Phosphate 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 teno'clock; the sky entirely overcast, and the temperature at sunrise 48°. 

We resumed our journey somewhat later than usual, travelling in a nearlynorth direction across the beautiful valley; and about noon reached aplace on one of the principal streams, where I had determined to leave theemigrant trail, in the expectation of finding a more direct and betterroad across the Blue mountains. At this place the emigrants appeared tohave held some consultation as to their further route, and finally turneddirectly off to the left; reaching the foot of the mountain in about threemiles, which they ascended by a hill as steep and difficult as that bywhich we had yesterday descended to the Rond. Quitting, therefore, thisroad, which, after a very rough crossing, issues from the mountains by theheads of the _Umatilah_ river, we continued our northern courseacross the valley, following an Indian trail which had been indicated tome by Mr. Payette, and encamped at the northern extremity of the GrandRond, on a slough-like stream of very deep water, without any apparentcurrent. There are some pines here on the low hills at the creek; and inthe northwest corner of the Rond is a very heavy body of timber, whichdescends into the plain. The clouds, which had rested very low along themountain sides during the day, rose gradually up in the afternoon; and inthe evening the sky was almost entirely clear, with a temperature atsunset of 47°. Some indifferent observations placed the camp in longitude117° 28' 26", latitude 45° 26' 47"; and the elevation was 2, 600 feet abovethe sea. 

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

We passed out of the Grand Rond by a fine road along the creek, which, fora 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 thestream--a handsome place for farms; the soil, even of the hills, beingrich and black. Passing through a point of pines, which bore evidences ofbeing very much frequented by the Indians, and in which the trees weresometimes 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 Bluemountains, on a branch of the Grand Rond river, at an elevation of 2, 700feet. Resuming our journey, we commenced the ascent of the mountainsthrough an open pine forest of large and stately trees, among which thebalsam pine made its appearance; the road being good, with the exceptionof one steep ascent, with a corresponding descent, which might both havebeen easily avoided by opening the way for a short distance through thetimber. It would have been well had we encamped on the stream where we hadhalted below, as the night overtook us on the mountain, and we wereobliged to encamp without water, and tie up the animals to the trees forthe night. We halted on a smooth open place of a narrow ridge, whichdescended very rapidly to a ravine or piny hollow, at a considerabledistance 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 thereis no preparation for supper going on; and, after sitting some time aroundthe blazing logs, Mr. Preuss and Carson, with several others, volunteeredto take the India-rubber buckets and go down into the ravine in search ofwater. It was a very difficult way in the darkness down the slippery sideof the steep mountain, and harder still to climb about half a mile upagain; but they found the water, and the cup of coffee (which it enabledus to make) and bread were only enjoyed with greater pleasure. 

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

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

The animals had eaten nothing during the night; and we made an earlystart, continuing our route among the pines, which were more dense thanyesterday, and still retained their magnificent size. The larches clustertogether in masses on the side of the mountains, and their yellow foliagecontrasts handsomely with the green of the balsam and other pines. After afew miles we ceased to see any pines, and the timber consisted of severalvarieties of spruce, larch, and balsam pine, which have a regularlyconical 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 21feet. In open places near the summit, these trees became less high andmore branching, the conical form having a greater base. The instrumentcarriage occasioned much delay, it being frequently necessary to felltrees and remove the fallen timber. The trail we were following led up along 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 fineview over the mountainous country where we had lately traveled, to take abarometrical observation at the height of 4, 460 feet. 

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

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

We continued to travel through the forest, in which the road was rendereddifficult by fallen trunks, and obstructed by many small trees, which itwas necessary to cut down. But these are only accidental difficulties, which could easily be removed, and a very excellent road may be hadthrough this pass, with no other than very moderate ascents ordeclivities. A laborious day, which had advanced us only six miles on theroad, brought us in the afternoon to an opening in the forest, in whichthere was a fine mountain meadow, with good grass, and a large clear-waterstream--one of the head branches of the _Umatilah_ river. During thisday's journey, the barometer was broken; and the elevations above the sea, hereafter given, depend upon the temperature of boiling water. Some of thewhite spruces which I measured to-day were twelve feet in circumference, and one of the larches ten; but eight feet was the average circumferenceof those measured along the road. I held in my hand a tape line as Iwalked along, in order to form some correct idea of the size of thetimber. 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; butthe 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 icewas a quarter of an inch thick on the creek, and the thermometer atsunrise was at 20°. 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 therewas much cutting to be done; but, after traveling a few miles, themountains became more bald, and we reached a point from which there was avery extensive view in the northwest. We were on the western verge of theBlue mountains, long spurs of which, very precipitous on either sideextended down into the valley, the waters of the mountain roaring betweenthem. 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 courseof many affluents to a considerable stream that was pursuing its wayacross the plain towards what appeared to be the Columbia river. This Iknew to be the Walahwalah river, and occasional spots along its banks, which resembled clearings, were supposed to be the mission or Indiansettlements; but the weather was smoky and unfavorable to far views withthe glass. The rock displayed here in the escarpments is a compactamorphous trap, which appears to constitute the mass of the Blue mountainsin this latitude; and all the region of country through which we havetraveled since leaving the Snake river has been the seat of violent andextensive igneous action. Along the Burnt River valley, the strata areevidently sedimentary rocks, altered by the intrusion of volcanicproducts, which in some instances have penetrated and essentially changedtheir original condition. Along our line of route from this point to theCalifornia mountains, there seems but little essential change. All ourspecimens of sedimentary rocks show them much altered, and volcanicproductions appear to prevail throughout the whole intervening distance. 

The road now led along the mountain side, around heads of the precipitousravines; and keeping men ahead to clear the road, we passed alternatelythrough bodies of timber and small open prairies, and encamped in a largemeadow, in view of the great prairie below. 

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

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

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

At sunset the thermometer was at 48°, and our position was in longitude118° 00' 39", and in latitude 45° 53' 35". 

The morning was clear, with a temperature at sunrise of 24°. Crossing theriver, we traveled over a hilly country with a good bunch-grass; the riverbottom, which generally contains the best soil in other countries, beinghere a sterile level of rocks and pebbles. We had found the soil in theBlue mountains to be of excellent quality, and it appeared also to be goodhere among the lower hills. Reaching a little eminence over which thetrail 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 bandof several hundred horses grazing on the hills about two miles ahead; andas we advanced on the road we met other bands, which Indians were drivingout to pasture also on the hills. True to its general character, thereverse of other countries, the hills and mountains here were rich ingrass, the bottoms barren and sterile. 

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

I found Dr. Whitman absent on a visit to the _Dalles_ of theColumbia; but had the pleasure to see a fine-looking family of emigrants, men, women, and children, in robust health, all indemnifying themselvesfor previous scanty fare, in a hearty consumption of potatoes, which areproduced here of a remarkably good quality. We were disappointed in ourexpectation of obtaining corn-meal or flour at this station, the millbelonging to the mission having been lately burned down; but an abundantsupply of excellent potatoes banished regrets, and furnished a gratefulsubstitute for bread. A small town of Nez Perce Indians gave an inhabitedand even a populous appearance to the station; and, after remaining aboutan hour, we continued our route and encamped on the river about four milesbelow, passing on the way an emigrant encampment. 

Temperature at sunset, 49°. 

25th. . --The weather was pleasant, with a sunrise temperature of 36°. Ourroad to-day had nothing in it of interest; and the country offered to theeye only a sandy, undulating plain, through which a scantily-timberedriver takes its course. We halted about three miles above the mouth, onaccount of grass; and the next morning arrived at the Nez Perce fort, oneof the trading establishments of the Hudson Bay Company, a few hundredyards above the junction of the Walahwalah with the Columbia river. Herewe 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 ourcamp in a little grove of willows on the Walahwalah, which are the onlytrees to be seen in the neighborhood; but were obliged to send the animalsback to the encampment we had left, as there was scarcely a blade of grassto be found. The post is on the bank of the Columbia, on a plain of baresands, from which the air was literally filled with clouds of dust andsand, during one of the few days we remained here; this place being one ofthe several points on the river which are distinguished for prevailinghigh winds, that come from the sea. The appearance of the post and countrywas without interest, except that we here saw, for the first time, thegreat river on which the course of events for the last half century hasbeen directing attention and conferring historical fame. The river is, indeed, a noble object, and has here attained its full magnitude. Aboutnine miles above, and in sight from the heights about this post, is thejunction of the two great forks which constitute the main stream--that onwhich we had been traveling from Fort Hall, and known by the names ofLewis's fork, Shoshonee, and Snake river; and the North fork, which hasretained the name of Columbia, as being the main stream. 

We did not go up to the junction, being pressed for time; but the union oftwo large streams, coming one from the southeast, and the other from thenortheast, and meeting in what may be treated as the geographical centreof the Oregon valley, thence doubling the volume of water to the ocean, while opening two great lines of communication with the interiorcontinent, constitutes a feature in the map of the country which cannot beoverlooked; and it was probably in reference to this junction of waters, and these lines of communication, that this post was established. They areimportant lines, and, from the structure of the country, must foreverremain so, --one of them leading to the South Pass and to the valley of theMississippi, the other to the pass at the head of the Athabasca river, andto the countries drained by the waters of the Hudson Bay. The British furcompanies now use both lines; the Americans, in their emigration toOregon, have begun to follow the one which leads towards the UnitedStates. Bateaux from tide-water ascend to the junction, and thence high upthe North fork, or Columbia. Land conveyance only is used upon the line ofLewis's fork. To the emigrants to Oregon, the Nez Perce is a point ofgreat interest, as being, to those who choose it, the termination of theiroverland journey. The broad expanse of the river here invites them toembark on its bosom; and the lofty trees of the forest furnish the meansof doing so. 

From the South Pass to this place is about 1, 000 miles; and as it is aboutthe same distance from that pass to the Missouri river at the mouth of theKansas, it may be assumed that 2, 000 miles is the _necessary_ landtravel in crossing from the United States to the Pacific ocean on thisline. 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 thetime, extended the rights of hospitality in a comfortable dinner to whichhe invited us. 

By a meridional altitude of the sun, the only observation that the weatherpermitted us to obtain, the mouth of the Walahwalah river is in latitude46° 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 thedirection of Mr. Applegate, a man of considerable resolution and energy, had nearly completed the building of a number of Mackinaw boats, in whichthey proposed to continue their further voyage down the Columbia. I hadseen, in descending the Walahwalah river, a fine drove of several hundredcattle, which they had exchanged for California cattle, to be received atVancouver, and which are considered a very inferior breed. The otherportion of the emigration had preferred to complete their journey by landalong the banks of the Columbia, taking their stock and wagons with them. 

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

From an elevated point over which the road led, we obtained another farview of Mount Hood, 150 miles distant. We obtained on the river bank anobservation of the sun at noon, which gave for the latitude 45° 58' 08". The country to-day was very unprepossessing, and our road bad; and as wetoiled slowly along through deep loose sands, and over fragments of blackvolcanic rock, our laborious traveling was strongly contrasted with therapid progress of Mr. Applegate's fleet of boats, which suddenly camegliding swiftly down the broad river, which here chanced to be tranquiland smooth. At evening we encamped on the river bank, where there was verylittle grass, and less timber. We frequently met Indians on the road, andthey were collected at every favorable spot along the river. 

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

31st. --By observation, our camp is in latitude 45° 50' 05", and longitude119° 22' 18". The night has been cold, and we have white frost thismorning, with a temperature at daylight of 25°, and at sunrise of 24°. Theearly morning was very clear, and the stars bright; but, as usual, sincewe are on the Columbia, clouds formed immediately with the rising sun. Theday continued fine, the east being covered with scattered clouds, but thewest remaining clear, showing the remarkable cone-like peak of Mount Hoodbrightly 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, ofvery loose, deep sand. We met on the way a party of Indians unusuallywell-dressed. They appeared intelligent, and, in our slight intercourse, impressed me with the belief that they possessed some aptitude foracquiring languages. 

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

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

NOVEMBER. 

1st. --Mount Hood is glowing in the sunlight this morning, and the air ispleasant, with a temperature of 38°. 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; theriver is 1, 690 feet broad, and dark bluffs of rock give it a picturesqueappearance. 

2d. --The river here entered among bluffs, leaving no longer room for aroad; and we accordingly left it, and took a more inland way among theriver hills--on which we had no sooner entered, than we found a greatimprovement in the country. The sand had disappeared, and the soil wasgood, and covered with excellent grass, although the surface was brokeninto high hills, with uncommonly deep valleys. At noon we crossed JohnDay's river, a clear and beautiful stream, with a swift current and a bedof rolled stones. It is sunk in a deep valley, which is characteristic ofall the streams in this region; and the hill we descended to reach it welldeserves the name of mountain. Some of the emigrants had encamped on theriver, and others at the summit of the farther hill, the ascent of whichhad probably cost their wagons a day's labor; and others again had haltedfor the night a few miles beyond, where they had slept without water. Wealso encamped in a grassy hollow without water; but, as we had beenforewarned of this privation by the guide, the animals had all beenwatered at the river, and we had brought with us a sufficient quantity forthe night. 

3d. --After two hours' ride through a fertile, hilly country, covered, asall the upland here appears to be, with good green grass, we descendedagain into the river bottom, along which we resumed our sterile road, andin about four miles reached the ford of the Fall river, (_Rivière auxChutes_, ) a considerable tributary to the Columbia. We had heard, onreaching the Nez Perce fort, a repetition of the account in regard to theunsettled character of the Columbia Indians at the present time; and toour little party they had at various points manifested a not very friendlydisposition, in several attempts to steal our horses. At this place Iexpected to find a badly-disposed band, who had plundered a party of 14emigrant men a few days before, and taken away their horses; andaccordingly we made the necessary preparation for our security, buthappily met with no difficulty. 

The river was high, divided into several arms, with a rocky island at itsoutlet into the Columbia, which at this place it rivalled in size, andapparently derived its highly characteristic name, which is received fromone of its many falls some forty miles up the river. It entered theColumbia with a roar of falls and rapids, and is probably a favoritefishing station among the Indians, with whom both banks of the river werepopulous; but they scarcely paid any attention to us. The ford was verydifficult at this time, and, had they entertained any bad intentions, theywere offered a good opportunity to carry them out, as I drove directlyinto the river, and during the crossing the howitzer was occasionallyseveral feet under water, and a number of the men appeared to be moreoften below than above. Our guide was well acquainted with the ford, andwe succeeded in getting every thing safe over to the left bank. We delayedhere only a short time to put the gun in order, and, ascending a longmountain 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. Inthe 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 fallunder the waters which back up from the basin below, constituting a greatnatural lock at this place. But time had become an object of seriousconsideration; and the Falls, in their present state, had been seen anddescribed by many. 

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

4th. --The road continued among the hills, and, reaching an eminence, wesaw 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 greateastern plain, these are disagreeably dirty in their habits. Their hutswere crowded with half-naked women and children, and the atmosphere withinwas any thing but pleasant to persons who had just been riding in thefresh morning air. We were somewhat amused with the scanty dress of awoman, who, in common with the others, rushed out of the huts on ourarrival, 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 whichwe overlooked the valley of the Columbia for many miles, and saw in thedistance several houses surrounded by fields, which a chief, who hadaccompanied us from the village, pointed out to us as the Methodistmissionary station. 

In a few miles we descended to the river, which we reached at one of itsremarkably interesting features, known as the _Dalles of theColumbia_. The whole volume of the river at this place passed betweenthe walls of a chasm, which has the appearance of having been rent throughthe basaltic strata which form the valley-rock of the region. At thenarrowest place we found the breadth, by measurement, 58 yards, and theaverage height of the walls above the water 25 feet; forming a troughbetween the rocks--whence the name, probably applied by a Canadianvoyageur. The mass of water, in the present low state of the river, passedswiftly between, deep and black, and curled into many small whirlpools andcounter currents, but unbroken by foam, and so still that scarcely thesound of a ripple was heard. The rock, for a considerable distance fromthe river, was worn over a large portion of its surface into circularholes and well-like cavities, by the abrasion of the river, which, at theseason of high waters, is spread out over the adjoining bottoms. 

In the recent passage through this chasm, an unfortunate event hadoccurred 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_, andtwo of Mr. Applegate's children and one man drowned. This misfortune wasattributed only to want of skill in the steersman, as at this season therewas no impediment to navigation; although the place is entirely impassableat high water, when boats pass safely over the great falls above, in thesubmerged state in which they then find themselves. 

The basalt here is precisely the same as that which constitutes the rockof the valley higher up the Columbia, being very compact, with a few roundcavities. 

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

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

Our land journey found here its western termination. The delay involved ingetting our camp to the right bank of the Columbia, and in opening a roadthrough the continuous forest to Vancouver, rendered a journey along theriver impracticable; and on this side the usual road across the mountainrequired strong and fresh animals, there being an interval of three daysin which they could obtain no food. I therefore wrote immediately to Mr. Fitzpatrick, directing him to abandon the carts at the Walahwalahmissionary station, and, as soon as the necessary pack-saddles could bemade, which his party required, meet me at the Dalles, from which point Iproposed to commence our homeward journey. The day after our arrival beingSunday, no business could be done at the mission; but on Monday, Mr. Perkins assisted me in procuring from the Indians a large canoe, in whichI designed to complete our journey to Vancouver, where I expected toobtain the necessary supply of provisions and stores for our winterjourney. Three Indians, from the family to whom the canoe belonged, wereengaged to assist in working her during the voyage, and, with them, ourwater party consisted of Mr. Preuss and myself, with Bernier and JacobDodson. In charge of the party which was to remain at the Dalles I leftCarson, with instructions to occupy the people in making pack-saddles andrefitting their equipage. The village from which we were to take the canoewas on the right bank of the river, about ten miles below, at the mouth ofthe Tinanens creek: and while Mr. Preuss proceeded down the river with theinstruments, in a little canoe paddled by two Indians, Mr. Perkinsaccompanied me with the remainder of the party by land. The last of theemigrants had just left the Dalles at the time of our arrival, travelingsome by water and others by land, making ark-like rafts, on which they hadembarked their families and households, with their large wagons and otherfurniture, while their stock were driven along the shore. 

For about five miles below the Dalles, the river is narrow, and probablyvery deep; but during this distance it is somewhat open, with grassybottoms on the left. Entering, then, among the lower mountains of theCascade range, it assumes a general character, and high and steep rockyhills shut it in on either side, rising abruptly in places, to the heightof fifteen hundred feet above the water, and gradually acquiring a moremountainous character as the river approaches the Cascades. 

After an hour's travel, when the sun was nearly down, we searched alongthe shore for a pleasant place, and halted to prepare supper. We had beenwell 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 travelingand living. The canoe sailed smoothly down the river; at night we encampedupon the shore, and a plentiful supply of comfortable provisions suppliedthe first of wants. We enjoyed the contrast which it presented to our latetoilsome marchings, our night watchings, and our frequent privation offood. 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 underCaptain Wilkes, and having accomplished the object of uniting my surveywith his, and thus presenting a connected exploration from the Mississippito the Pacific, and the winter being at hand, I deemed it necessary toeconomize time by voyaging in the night, as is customary here, to avoidthe high winds, which rise with the morning, and decline with the day. 

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

After an early breakfast, at daylight we resumed our journey, the weatherbeing clear and beautiful, and the river smooth and still. On either sidethe mountains are all pine-timbered, rocky, and high. We were nowapproaching one of the marked features of the lower Columbia where theriver forms a great _cascade_, with a series of rapids, in breakingthrough the range of mountains to which the lofty peaks of Mount Hood andSt. Helens belong, and which rise as great pillars of snow on either sideof 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 ofcascades to the whole range; and hence the name of CASCADE RANGE, which itbears, and distinguishes it from the Coast Range lower down. In making ashort turn to the south, the river forms the cascades in breaking over apoint of agglomerated masses of rock, leaving a handsome bay to the right, with several rocky, pine-covered islands, and the mountains sweep at adistance around a cove where several small streams enter the bay. In lessthan an hour we halted on the left bank, about five minutes' walk abovethe cascades, where there were several Indian huts, and where our guidessignified it was customary to hire Indians to assist in making the_portage_. When traveling with a boat as light as a canoe, which mayeasily be carried on the shoulders of the Indians, this is much the betterside of the river for the portage, as the ground here is very good andlevel, being a handsome bottom, which I remarked was covered (_as wasnow 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 withthe Indians; but to length, when they had first received the price oftheir assistance in goods, they went vigorously to work; and, in a shortertime than had been occupied in making our arrangements, the canoe, instruments, and baggage, were carried through (a distance of about half amile) to the bank below the main cascade, where we again embarked, thewater being white with foam among ugly rocks, and boiling into a thousandwhirlpools. The boat passed with great rapidity, crossing and recrossingin the eddies of the current. After passing through about two miles ofbroken water, we ran some wild-looking rapids, which are called the LowerRapids, being the last on the river, which below is tranquil and smooth--abroad, magnificent stream. On a low broad point on the right bank of theriver, at the lower end of these rapids, were pitched many tents of theemigrants, who were waiting here for their friends from above, or forboats and provisions which were expected from Vancouver. In our passagedown the rapids, I had noticed their camps along the shore, ortransporting their goods across the portage. This portage makes a head ofnavigation, ascending the river. It is about two miles in length; andabove, to the Dalles, is 45 miles of smooth and good navigation. 

We glided on without further interruption between very rocky and highsteep mountains, which sweep along the river valley at a little distance, covered with forests of pine, and showing occasionally lofty escarpmentsof red rock. Nearer, the shore is bordered by steep escarped hills endhuge vertical rocks, from which the waters of the mountain reach the riverin a variety of beautiful falls, sometimes several hundred feet in height. Occasionally along the river occurred pretty bottoms, covered with thegreenest verdure of the spring. To a professional farmer, however, it doesnot offer many places of sufficient extent to be valuable for agriculture;and after passing a few miles below the Dalles, I had scarcely seen aplace on the south shore where wagons could get to the river. The beautyof the scenery was heightened by the continuance of very delightfulweather, resembling the Indian summer of the Atlantic. A few miles belowthe cascades we passed a singular isolated hill; and in the course of thenext six miles occurred five very pretty falls from the heights on theleft bank, one of them being of a very picturesque character; and towardssunset we reached a remarkable point of rocks, distinguished, on accountof prevailing high winds, and the delay it frequently occasions to thecanoe navigation, by the name of _Cape Horn_. It borders the river ina high wall of rock, which comes boldly down into deep water; and inviolent gales down the river, and from the opposite shore, which is theprevailing direction of strong winds, the water is dashed against it withconsiderable violence. It appears to form a serious obstacle to canoetraveling; and I was informed by Mr. Perkins, that in a voyage up theriver he had been detained two weeks at this place, and was finallyobliged to return to Vancouver. 

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

The hills here had lost something of their rocky appearance, and hadalready begun to decline. As the sun went down, we searched along theriver for an inviting spot; and, finding a clean rocky beach, where somelarge 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 indarkness. Heavy clouds covered the sky this evening, and the wind began tosweep in gusts among the trees, as if bad weather were coming. As weadvanced, the hills on both sides grew constantly lower; on the right, retreating from the shore, and forming a somewhat extensive bottom ofintermingled prairie and wooded land. In the course of a few hours, andopposite to a small stream corning in from the north, called the_Tea Prairie_ river, the highlands on the left declined tothe plains, and three or four miles more disappeared entirely on bothsides, and the river entered the low country. The river had graduallyexpanded; and when we emerged from the highlands, the opposite shores wereso distant as to appear indistinct in the uncertainty of the light. Aboutten o'clock our pilots halted, apparently to confer about the course; and, after a little hesitation, pulled directly across an open expansion of theriver, where the waves were somewhat rough for a canoe, the wind blowingvery fresh. Much to our surprise, a few minutes afterwards we ran aground. Backing off our boat, we made repeated trials at various places to crosswhat appeared to be a point of shifting sand-bars, where we had attemptedto shorten the way by a cut-off. Finally, one of our Indians got into thewater, and waded about until he found a channel sufficiently deep, throughwhich we wound along after him, and in a few minutes again entered thedeep water below. As we paddled rapidly down the river, we heard the noiseof a saw-mill at work on the right bank; and, letting our boat floatquietly down, we listened with pleasure to the unusual sounds, and beforemidnight, encamped on the bank of the river, about a mile above FortVancouver. Our fine dry weather had given place to a dark cloudy night. Atmidnight it began to rain; and we found ourselves suddenly in the gloomyand humid season, which, in the narrow region lying between the Pacificand the Cascade mountains, and for a considerable distance along thecoast, supplies the place of winter. 

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

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

I found many American emigrants at the fort; others had already crossedthe river into their land of promise--the Walahmette valley. Others weredaily arriving; and all of them have been furnished with shelter, so faras it could be afforded by the buildings connected with the establishment. Necessary clothing and provisions (the latter to be returned in kind fromthe produce of their labor) were also furnished. This friendly assistancewas of very great value to the emigrants, whose families were otherwiseexposed to much suffering in the winter rains, which had now commenced; atthe 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 toarrive safely, with no other accident than has been already mentioned. Theparty which had crossed over the Cascade mountains were reported to havelost a number of their animals; and those who had driven their stock downthe Columbia had brought them safely in, and found for them a ready andvery profitable market, and were already proposing to return to the Statesin the spring for another supply. In the space of two days ourpreparations had been completed, and we were ready to set out on ourreturn. It would have been very gratifying to have gone down to thePacific, and, solely in the interest and love of geography, to have seenthe ocean on the western as well as on the eastern side of the continent, so as to give a satisfactory completeness to the geographical picturewhich had been formed in our minds; but the rainy season had now regularlyset in, and the air was filled with fogs and rain, which left no beauty inany scenery, and obstructed observations. The object of my instructionshad been entirely fulfilled in having connected our reconnoissance withthe surveys of Captain Wilkes; and although it would have been agreeableand satisfactory to terminate here also our ruder astronomicalobservations, I was not, for such a reason, justified to make a delay inwaiting for favorable weather. 

Near sunset of the 10th, the boats left the fort, and encamped aftermaking only a few miles. Our flotilla consisted of a Mackinaw barge andthree canoes--one of them that in which we had descended the river; and aparty 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 theopportunity afforded by the return of our boats to bring them down toVancouver. This gentleman, as well as the Messrs. Applegate, and others ofthe emigrants whom I saw, possessed intelligence and character, with themoral and intellectual stamina, as well as the enterprise, which givesolidity and respectability to the foundation of colonies. 

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

12th. --The wind during the night had increased to so much violence thatthe broad river this morning was angry and white; the waves breaking withconsiderable force against this rocky wall of the cape. Our old Iroquoispilot was unwilling to risk the boats around the point, and I was notdisposed to hazard the stores of our voyage for the delay of a day. Further observations were obtained during the day, giving for the latitudeof the place 45° 33' 09"; and the longitude obtained from the satellite is122° 6' 15". 

13th. --We had a day of disagreeable and cold rain and, late in theafternoon, began to approach the rapids of the cascades. There is here ahigh timbered island on the left shore, below which, in descending, I hadremarked, in a bluff of the river, the extremities of trunks of trees, appearing to be imbedded in the rock. Landing here this afternoon, Ifound, in the lower part of the escarpment, a stratum of coal and forest-trees, imbedded between strata of altered clay, containing the remains ofvegetables, the leaves of which indicate that the plants woredicotyledonous. Among these, the stems of some of the ferns are notmineralized, but merely charred, retaining still their vegetable structureand substance; and in this condition a portion of the trees remain. Theindurated appearance and compactness of the strata, as well, perhaps, asthe mineralized condition of the coal, are probably due to igneous action. Some portions of the coal precisely resemble in aspect the canal coal ofEngland, and, with the accompanying fossils, have been referred to thetertiary formation. 

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

The current was now very swift, and we were obliged to _cordelle_ theboat along the left shore, where the bank was covered with large masses ofrocks. Night overtook us at the upper end of the island, a short distancebelow the cascades, and we halted on the open point. In the mean time, thelighter canoes, paddled altogether by Indians, had passed ahead, and wereout 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; butall to no purpose, as it was impossible for them to hear above the roar ofthe river; and we remained all night without shelter, the rain pouringdown all the time. The old voyageurs did not appear to mind it much, butcovered 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 arather miserable night; and, to add to our discomfort, the incessant rainextinguished 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 baybelow the upper rapids. Here we found a lodge pitched, and about 20Indians sitting around a blazing fire within, making a luxurious breakfastwith salmon, bread, butter, sugar, coffee, and other provisions. In theforest, on the edge of the high bluff overlooking the river, is an Indiangraveyard, consisting of a collection of tombs, in each of which were thescattered bones of many skeletons. The tombs were made of boards, whichwere ornamented with many figures of men and animals of the natural size--from their appearance, constituting the armorial device by which, amongIndians, the chiefs are usually known. 

The masses of rock displayed along the shores of the ravine in theneighborhood of the cascades, are clearly volcanic products. Between thiscove, which I called Graveyard bay, and another spot of smooth waterabove, on the right, called Luders bay, sheltered by a jutting point ofhuge rocky masses at the foot of the cascades, the shore along theintervening rapids is lined with precipices of distinct strata of red andvariously-colored lavas, in inclined positions. 

The masses of rock forming the point at Luders bay consist of a poroustrap, or basalt--a volcanic product of a modern period. The rocks belongto agglomerated masses, which form the immediate ground of the cascades, and have been already mentioned as constituting a bed of cementedconglomerate rocks, appearing at various places along the river. Here theyare scattered along the shores, and through the bed of the river, wearingthe character of convulsion, which forms the impressive and prominentfeature of the river at this place. 

Wherever we came in contact with the rocks of these mountains, we foundthem volcanic, which is probably the character of the range; and at thistime, two of the great snowy cones, Mount Regnier and St. Helens, were inaction. On the 23d of the preceding November, St. Helens had scattered itsashes, like a white fall of snow, over the Dalles of the Columbia, 50miles 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 betweenthe 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 whichroll 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 rainywinter never penetrates; and at the Dalles of the Columbia the rainyseason is unknown, the brief winter being limited to a period of about twomonths, during which the earth is covered with the slight snows of aclimate remarkably mild for so high a latitude. The Cascade range has anaverage distance of about 130 miles from the sea-coast. It extends farboth north and south of the Columbia, and is indicated to the distantobserver, both in course and position, by the lofty volcanic peaks whichrise out of it, and which are visible to an immense distance. 

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

A gentleman named Luders, a botanist from the city of Hamburg, arrived atthe bay I have called by his name while we were occupied in bringing upthe boats. I was delighted to meet at such a place a man of kindredpursuits; but we had only the pleasure of a brief conversation, as hiscanoe, under the guidance of two Indians, was about to run the rapids; andI 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 hurriedaround by land to meet it at the Graveyard bay; but he was scarcely out ofsight, when, by the carelessness of the Indians, the boat was drawn intothe midst of the rapids, and glanced down the river, bottom up, with aloss of every thing it contained. In the natural concern I felt for hismisfortune, 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 theupper portage landing, which, for large boats, is on the right bank of theriver. They were a fine-looking crew, and among them I remarked a fresh-looking woman and her daughter, emigrants from Canada. It was satisfactoryto see the order and speed with which these experienced water-men effectedthe portage, and passed their boats over the cascades. They had arrived atnoon, and in the evening they expected to reach Vancouver. These bateauxcarry the express of the Hudson Bay Company to the highest navigable pointof the North Fork of the Columbia, whence it is carried by an overlandparty to Lake Winipec, where it is divided; part going to Montreal, andpart to Hudson Bay. Thus a regular communication is kept up between threevery remote points. 

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

Late in the afternoon we finished the portage, and, embarking again, moveda little distance up the right bank, in order to clear the smaller rapidsof the cascades, and have a smooth river for the next morning. Though wemade but a few miles, the weather improved immediately; and though therainy country and the cloudy mountains were close behind, before us wasthe bright sky; so distinctly is climate here marked by a mountainboundary. 

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

Many places occur along the river, where the stumps, or rather portions ofthe 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 thebeautifully clear water. These collections of dead trees are called on theColumbia the _submerged forest_, and are supposed to have beencreated by the effects of some convulsion which formed the cascades, andwhich, by damming up the river, placed these trees under water anddestroyed them. But I venture to presume that the cascades are older thanthe trees; and as these submerged forests occur at five or six placesalong the river, I had an opportunity to satisfy myself that they havebeen formed by immense landslides from the mountains, which here closelyshut in the river, and which brought down with them into the river thepines of the mountain. At one place, on the right bank, I remarked a placewhere a portion of one of these slides seemed to have planted itself, withall the evergreen foliage, and the vegetation of the neighboring hill, directly amidst the falling and yellow leaves of the river trees. Itoccurred to me that this would have been a beautiful illustration to theeye of a botanist. 

Following the course of a slide, which was very plainly marked along themountain, I found that in the interior parts the trees were in their usualerect 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 bycompass. 

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

18th. --The day again was pleasant and bright. At 10 o'clock we passed arock island, on the right shore of the river, which the Indians use as aburial ground; and halting for a short time, about an hour afterwards, atthe village of our Indian friends, early in the afternoon we arrived againat 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 Californiabeef. My friend, Mr. Gilpin, had arrived in advance of the party. Hisobject in visiting this country had been to obtain correct information ofthe Walahmette settlements; and he had reached this point in his journey, highly pleased with the country over which he had traveled, and withinvigorated health. On the following day he continued his journey, in ourreturning boats, to Vancouver. 

The camp was now occupied in making the necessary preparations for ourhomeward journey, which, though homeward, contemplated a new route, and agreat circuit to the south and southeast, and the exploration of the GreatBasin between the Rocky mountains and the _Sierra Nevada_. Threeprincipal objects were indicated, by report or by maps, as being on thisroute; the character or existence of which I wished to ascertain and whichI assumed as landmarks, or leading points, on their projected line ofreturn. The first of those points was the _Tlamath_ lake, on thetable-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 whichlake a river of the same name makes its way westwardly direct to theocean. This lake and river are often called _Klamet_, but I havechosen to write its name according to the Indian pronunciation. Theposition of this lake, on the line of inland communication between Oregonand California; its proximity to the demarcation boundary of latitude 42°;its imputed double character of lake, or meadow, according to the seasonof the year; and the hostile and warlike character attributed to theIndians about it--all made it a desirable object to visit and examine. From this lake our course was intended to be about southeast, to areported lake called Mary's, at some days' journey in the Great Basin; andthence, still on southeast, to the reputed _Buenaventura_ river, which has had a place in so many maps, and countenanced the belief of theexistence of a great river flowing from the Rocky mountains to the Bay ofSan Francisco. From the Buenaventura the next point was intended to be inthat section of the Rocky mountains which includes the heads of Arkansasriver, and of the opposite waters of the Californian gulf; and thence downthe Arkansas to Bent's fort, and home. This was our projected line ofreturn--a great part of it absolutely new to geographical, botanical, andgeological science--and the subject of reports in relation to lakes, rivers, deserts, and savages hardly above the condition of mere wildanimals, which inflamed desire to know what this _terra incognita_really contained. 

It was a serious enterprise, at the commencement of winter, to undertakethe 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 beingunder twenty-one years of age. All knew that a strange country was to beexplored, and dangers and hardships to be encountered; but no one blenchedat the prospect. On the contrary, courage and confidence animated thewhole party. Cheerfulness, readiness, subordination, prompt obedience, characterized all; nor did any extremity of peril and privation, to whichwe were afterwards exposed, ever belie, or derogate from, the fine spiritof this brave and generous commencement. The course of the narrative willshow at what point, and for what reasons, we were prevented from thecomplete execution of this plan, after having made considerable progressupon it, and how we were forced by desert plains and mountain ranges, anddeep snows, far to the south, and near to the Pacific ocean, and along thewestern base of the Sierra Nevada, where, indeed, a new and ample field ofexploration opened itself before us. For the present, we must follow thenarrative, which will first lead us south along the valley of Fall river, and the eastern base of the Cascade range, to the Tlamath lake, fromwhich, or its margin, three rivers go in three directions--one west, tothe ocean; another north, to the Columbia; the third south, to California. 

For the support of the party, I had provided at Vancouver a supply ofprovisions for not less than three months, consisting principally offlour, peas, and tallow--the latter being used in cooking; and, inaddition 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 ofthe latter procured from the Indians about the mission; and for thesustenance 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, arrivedon the 21st; and the camp was now closely engaged in the labor ofpreparation. Mr. Perkins succeeded in obtaining as a guide to the Tlamathlake two Indians--one of whom had been there, and bore the marks ofseveral wounds he had received from some of the Indians in theneighborhood; and the other went along for company. In order to enable usto obtain horses, he dispatched messengers to the various Indian villagesin the neighborhood, informing them that we were desirous to purchase, andappointing a day for them to bring them in. 

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

The Indians brought in their horses at the appointed time, and wesucceeded in obtaining a number in exchange for goods; but they wererelatively much higher here, where goods are plenty and at moderateprices, 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 thanI had desired, and of thin, inferior quality; the oldest and poorest beingthose that were sold to us. These horses, as ever in our journey you willhave occasion to remark, are valuable for hardihood and great endurance. 

24th. --At this place one of the men was discharged; and at the request ofMr. Perkins, a Chinook Indian, a lad of nineteen, who was extremelydesirous to "see the whites, " and make some acquaintance with ourinstitutions, was received into the party under my special charge, withthe understanding that I would again return him to his friends. He hadlived for some time in the household of Mr. Perkins, and spoke a few wordsof 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 atdaylight 26°. 

Our preparations had been fully completed, and to-day we commenced ourjourney. The little wagon which had hitherto carried the instruments, Ijudged it necessary to abandon; and it was accordingly presented to themission. In all our long traveling, it had never been overturned orinjured by any accident of the road; and the only things broken were theglass lamps, and one of the front panels, which had been kicked out by anunruly Indian horse. The howitzer was the only wheeled carriage nowremaining. We started about noon, when the weather had become disagreeablycold, with flurries of snow. Our friend Mr. Perkins, whose kindness hadbeen active and efficient during our stay, accompanied us several miles onour road, when he bade us farewell, and consigned us to the care of ourguides. Ascending to the uplands beyond the southern fork of the_Tinanens_ creek, we found the snow lying on the ground in frequentpatches, although the pasture appeared good, and the new short grass wasfresh and green. We traveled over high, hilly land, and encamped on alittle branch of Tinanens creek, where there were good grass and timber. The southern bank was covered with snow, which was scattered over thebottom; and the little creek, its borders lined with ice, had a chilly andwintry 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 weredetected in stealing, were tied and laid before the fire, and guardmounted over them during the night. The night was cold, and partiallyclear. 

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 thermometerwas at 20°. Left camp at 10 o'clock, the road leading along tributaries ofthe Tinanens, and being, so far, very good. We turned to the right at thefork of the trail, ascending by a steep ascent along a spur to thedividing grounds between this stream and the waters of Fall river. Thecreeks we had passed were timbered principally with oak and otherdeciduous trees. Snow lies everywhere here on the ground, and we had aslight fall during the morning; but towards noon the bright sky yielded toa bright sun. 

This morning we had a grand view of St. Helens and Regnier: the latterappeared of a conical form, and very lofty, leading the eye far up intothe sky. The line of the timbered country is very distinctly marked here, the bare hills making with it a remarkable contrast. The summit of theridge commanded a fine view of the Taih prairie, and the stream runningthrough it, which is a tributary to the Fall river, the chasm of which isvisible to the right. A steep descent of a mountain hill brought us downinto the valley, and we encamped on the stream after dark, guided by thelight of fires, which some naked Indians, belonging to a village on theopposite side, were kindling for us on the bank. This is a large branch ofthe Fall river. There was a broad band of thick ice some fifteen feet wideon either bank, and the river current is swift and bold. The night wascold and clear, and we made our astronomical observation this evening withthe thermometer at 20°. 

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

27th. --A fine view of Mount Hood this morning; a rose-colored mass ofsnow, bearing S. 85° W. By compass. The sky is clear, and the air cold;the thermometer 2. 5° 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 hadaccompanied us thus far, took their leave, and we resumed our journey at10 o'clock. We ascended by a steep hill from the river bottom, which issandy, to a volcanic plain, around which lofty hills sweep in a regularform. It is cut up by gullies of basaltic rock, escarpments of whichappear everywhere in the hills. This plain is called the Taih prairie, andis sprinkled with some scattered pines. The country is now far moreinteresting to a traveler than the route along the Snake and Columbiarivers. To our right we had always the mountains, from the midst of whosedark 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 inour journey. Mount Hood was already becoming an old acquaintance, and, when we ascended the prairie, we obtained a bearing to Mount Jefferson, S. 23° W. The Indian superstition has peopled these lofty peaks with evilspirits, and they have never yet known the tread of a human foot. Sternlydrawn 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 wouldhave its attractions for the adventurous traveler. A small trail takes offthrough the prairie, towards a low point in the range, and perhaps thereis here a pass into the Wahlamette valley. Crossing the plain, wedescended by a rocky hill into the bed of a tributary of Fall river, andmade an early encampment. The water was in holes, and frozen over; and wewere obliged to cut through the ice for the animals to drink. An ox, whichwas rather troublesome to drive, was killed here for food. 

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

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

We traversed a broken high country, partly timbered with pine, and aboutnoon crossed a mountainous ridge, in which, from the rock occasionallydisplayed, the formation consists of compact lava. Frequent tracks of elkwere 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 theCascade 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 areeither volcanic products, or highly altered by volcanic action, consistingof quartz and reddish-colored silicious masses. 

29th. --We emerged from the basin, by a narrow pass, upon a considerablebranch of Fall river, running to the eastward through a narrow valley. Thetrail, descending this stream, brought us to a locality of hot springs, which were on either bank. Those on the left, which were formed into deephandsome basins, would have been delightful baths, if the outer air hadnot been so keen, the thermometer in these being at 89°. There were otherson the opposite side, at the foot of an escarpment, in which thetemperature of the water was 134°. These waters deposited around thespring a brecciated mass of quartz and feldspar, much of it of a reddishcolor. 

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

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

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

At such places, the gun-carriage was unlimbered, and separately descendedby hand. Continuing a few miles up the left bank of the river, we encampedearly in an open bottom among the pines, a short distance below a lodge ofIndians. Here, along the river the bluffs present escarpments seven oreight hundred feet in height, containing strata of a very fine porcelainclay, overlaid, at the height of about five hundred feet, by a massivestratum of compact basalt one hundred feet in thickness, which again issucceeded above by other strata of volcanic rocks. The clay strata arevariously colored, some of them very nearly as white as chalk, and veryfine-grained. Specimens brought from these have been subjected tomicroscopical examination by Professor Bailey, of West Point, and areconsidered by him to constitute one of the most remarkable deposites offluviatile infusoria on record. While they abound in genera and specieswhich are common in fresh water, but which rarely thrive where the wateris 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 equallycertain that they lived and died at the situation where they were found, as they could scarcely have been transported by running waters without anadmixture of sandy particles; from which, however, they are remarkablyfree. Fossil infusoria of a fresh-water origin had been previouslydetected by Mr. Bailey, in specimens brought by Mr. James D. Dana from thetertiary formation of Oregon. Most of the species in those specimensdiffered so much from those now living and known, that he was led to inferthat they might belong to extinct species, and considered them also asaffording proof of an alteration, in the formation from which they wereobtained, of fresh and salt-water deposites, which, common enough inEurope, had not hitherto been noticed in the United States. Comingevidently from a locality entirely different, our specimens show very fewspecies in common with those brought by Mr. Dana, but bear a much closerresemblance to those inhabiting the northeastern states. It is possiblethat they are from a more recent deposite; but the presence of a fewremarkable forms which are common to the two localities renders it moreprobable 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 numberof observations. Those which we succeeded in obtaining, are, however, good; and give for the latitude of the place 44° 35' 23", and for thelongitude from the satellite 121° 10' 25". 

DECEMBER. 

1st. --A short distance above our encampment, we crossed the river, whichwas thickly lined along its banks with ice. In common with all thesemountain-streams the water was very clear and the current swift. It wasnot everywhere fordable, and the water was three or four feet deep at ourcrossing, and perhaps a hundred feet wide. As was frequently the case atsuch places, one of the mules got his pack, consisting of sugar, thoroughly wet, and turned into molasses. One of the guides informed methat this was a "salmon-water, " and pointed out several ingeniously-contrived places to catch the fish; among the pines in the bottom I saw animmense one, about twelve feet in diameter. A steep ascent from theopposite 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, ina marshy place among the pines, where there was an abundance of grass. Wefound here a single Nez Perce family, who had a very handsome horse intheir drove, which we endeavored to obtain in exchange for a good cow; butthe 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. Thesepeople attach great value to cattle, with which they are endeavoring tosupply themselves. 

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

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

4th. --Our animals had taken the back track, although a great number werehobbled; and we were consequently delayed until noon. Shortly after we hadleft this encampment, the mountain trail from the Dalles joined that onwhich we were traveling. After passing for several miles over an artemisiaplain, the trail entered a beautiful pine forest, through which wetraveled for several hours; and about 4 o'clock descended into the valleyof 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. Thestream is very swift and deep, and about 40 feet wide, and nearly halffrozen over. Among the timber here, are larches 140 feet high, and overthree 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 madeour journey delightful. It was too warm at noon for winter clothes; andthe snow, which lay everywhere in patches through the forest, was meltingrapidly. After a few hours' ride, we came upon a fine stream in the midstof the forest, which proved to be the principal branch of the Fall river. It was occasionally 200 feet wide--sometimes narrowed to 50 feet--thewaters very clear, and frequently deep. We ascended along the river, whichsometimes presented sheets of foaming cascades--its banks occasionallyblackened with masses of scoriated rock--and found a good encampment onthe verge of open bottom, which had been an old camping-ground of theCayuse Indians. A great number of deer-horns were lying about, indicatinggame in the neighborhood. The timber was uniformly large, some of thepines measuring 22 feet in circumference at the ground, and 12 to 13 feetat six feet above. 

In all our journeying, we had never traveled through a country where therivers were so abounding in falls; and the name of this stream issingularly characteristic. At every place where we come in theneighborhood of the river, is heard the roaring of falls. The rock alongthe banks of the stream, and the ledge over which it falls, is a scoriatedbasalt, with a bright metallic fracture. The stream goes over in one clearpitch, succeeded by a foaming cataract of several hundred yards. In alittle 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 nearlyworn out, and we found here a handsome set, leaning against one of thetrees, very white, and cleanly scraped. Had the owners been here, we wouldhave purchased them; but as they were not, we merely left the old ones intheir place, with a small quantity of tobacco. 

6th. --The morning was frosty and clear. We continued up the stream onundulating forest ground, over which there was scattered much fallingtimber. We met here a village of Nez Perce Indians, who appeared to becoming 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 theforest we emerged into an open valley ten or twelve miles wide, throughwhich the stream was flowing tranquilly, upwards of two hundred feetbroad, with occasional islands, and bordered with fine broad bottoms. Crossing the river, which here issues from a great mountain ridge on theright, we continued up the southern and smaller branch over a levelcountry, consisting of fine meadow-land, alternating with pine forests, and encamped on it early in the evening. A warm sunshine made the daypleasant. 

7th. --To-day we had good traveling ground, the trail leading sometimesover rather sandy soils in the pine forest, and sometimes over meadow-landalong the stream. The great beauty of the country in summer constantlysuggested 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. Therich soil and excellent water, surrounded by noble forests, make a picturethat would delight the eye of a farmer. 

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

8th. --To-day we crossed the last branch of the Fall river, issuing, likeall the others we had crossed, in a southwesterly direction from themountains. Our direction was a little east of south, the trail leadingconstantly through pine forests. The soil was generally bare, consisting, in greater part, of a yellowish-white pumice-stone, producing varieties ofmagnificent pines, but not a blade of grass; and to-night our horses wereobliged to do without food, and use snow for water. These pines areremarkable for the red color of the bolls; and among them occurs a speciesof which the Indians had informed me when leaving the Dalles. The unusualsize of the cone (16 or 18 inches long) had attracted their attention; andthey pointed it out to me among the curiosities of the country. They aremore remarkable for their large diameter than their height, which usuallyaverages only about 120 feet. The leaflets are short--only two or threeinches long, and five in a sheath; the bark of a red color. 

9th. --The trail leads always through splendid pine forests. Crossingdividing grounds by a very fine road, we descended very gently towards thesouth. The weather was pleasant, and we halted late. The soil was verymuch like that of yesterday; and on the surface of a hill near ourencampment, were displayed beds of pumice-stone; but the soil produced nograss, and again the animals fared badly. 

10th. --The country began to improve; and about eleven o'clock we reached aspring of cold water on the edge of a savannah, or grassy meadow, whichour guides informed us was an arm of the Tlamath lake; and a few milesfurther we entered upon an extensive meadow, or lake of grass, surroundedby timbered mountains. This was the Tlamath lake. It was a picturesque andbeautiful spot, and rendered more attractive to us by the abundant andexcellent grass, which our animals, after traveling through pine forests, so much needed; but the broad sheet of water which constitutes a lake wasnot to be seen. Overlooking it, immediately west, were several snowyknobs, 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 usa good place for an encampment, and for the security of our horses, whichwere guarded in view on the open meadow. The character of courage andhostility attributed to the Indians in this quarter induced more thanusual precaution; and, seeing smokes rising from the middle of the lake(or savannah) and along the opposite shores, I directed the howitzer to befired. It was the first time our guides had seen it discharged; and thebursting of the shell at a distance, which was something like the secondfire of the gun, amazed and bewildered them with delight. It inspired themwith triumphant feelings; but on the camps at a distance the effect wasdifferent, for the smokes in the lake and on the shores immediatelydisappeared. 

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

11th. --No Indians made their appearance, and I determined to pay them avisit. Accordingly the people were gathered together, and we rode outtowards the village in the middle of the lake which one of our guides hadpreviously visited. It could not be directly approached, as a large partof the lake appeared a marsh; and there were sheets of ice among the grasson which our horses could not keep their footing. We therefore followedthe guide for a considerable distance along the forest; and then turnedoff 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 arrivedwithin half a mile of the village, two persons were seen advancing to meetus; and, to please the fancy of our guides, we ranged ourselves into along line, riding abreast, while they galloped ahead to meet thestrangers. 

We were surprised, on riding up, to find one of them a woman, having neverbefore known a squaw to take any part in the business of war. They werethe village chief and his wife, who, in excitement and alarm at theunusual event and appearance, had come out to meet their fate together. The chief was a very prepossessing Indian, with handsome features, and asingularly soft and agreeable voice--so remarkable as to attract generalnotice. 

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

Almost like plants, these people seem to have adapted themselves to thesoil, and to be growing on what the immediate locality afforded. Theironly subsistence at the time appeared to be a small fish, great quantitiesof which, that had been smoked and dried, were suspended on strings aboutthe lodge. Heaps of straw were lying around; and their residence in themidst of grass and rushes had taught them a peculiar skill in convertingthis 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 theirheads a closely-woven basket, which made a very good cap. Among otherthings, were party-colored mats about four feet square, which we purchasedto lay on the snow under our blankets, and to use for table-cloths. 

Numbers of singular-looking dogs, resembling wolves, were sitting on thetops of the huts; and of these we purchased a young one, which, after itsbirthplace, was named Tlamath. The language spoken by these Indians isdifferent from that of the Shoshonee and Columbia River tribes; andotherwise than by signs they cannot understand each other. They made uscomprehend that they were at war with the people who lived to thesouthward and to the eastward; but I could obtain from them no certaininformation. The river on which they live enters the Cascade mountains onthe western side of the lake, and breaks through them by a passageimpracticable for travelers; but over the mountains, to the northward, arepasses which present no other obstacle than in the almost impenetrableforests. Unlike any Indians we had previously seen, these wore shells intheir 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 someacquaintance with the locality, we remained here for the remainder of theday. By observation, the latitude of the camp was 42° 56' 51", and thediameter of the lake, or meadow, as has been intimated, about 20 miles. Itis a picturesque and beautiful spot, and, under the hand of cultivation, might become a little paradise. Game is found in the forest, timbered andsnowy mountains skirt it, and fertility characterizes it. Situated nearthe heads of three rivers, and on the line of inland communication withCalifornia, and near to Indians noted for treachery, it will naturally, inthe progress of the settlement of Oregon, become a point for militaryoccupation and settlement. 

From Tlamath lake, the further continuation of our voyage assumed acharacter of discovery and exploration, which, from the Indians here, wecould obtain no information to direct, and where the imaginary maps of thecountry, instead of assisting, exposed us to suffering and defeat. In ourjourney across the desert, Mary's lake, and the famous Buenaventura river, were two points on which I relied to recruit the animals and repose theparty. Forming, agreeably to the best maps in my possession, a connectedwater-line from the Rocky mountains to the Pacific ocean, I felt no otheranxiety than to pass safely across the intervening desert to the banks ofthe Buenaventura, where, in the softer climate of a more southernlatitude, our horses might find grass to sustain them, and ourselves besheltered from the rigors of winter, and from the inhospitable desert. Theguides 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 appliedalleged the want of horses, and the snow on the mountains across which ourcourse would carry us, and the sickness of his family, as reasons forrefusing to go with us. 

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

According to the best information I had been able to obtain from theIndians, in a few days' traveling we should reach another large water, probably a lake, which they indicated exactly in the course we were aboutto pursue. We struck our tents at 10 o'clock, and crossed the lake in anearly east direction, where it has the least extension--the breadth ofthe 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 wasdifficult to get the pack-animals across, which fell frequently, and couldnot get up with their loads, unassisted. The morning was very unpleasant, snow falling at intervals in large flakes, and the sky dark. In about twohours we succeeded in getting the animals over; and, after travelinganother hour along the eastern shore of the lake, we turned up into a covewhere there was a sheltered place among the timber, with good grass, andencamped. The Indians, who had accompanied us so far, returned to theirvillage on the south-eastern shore. Among the pines here, I noticed somefive or six feet in diameter. 

13th. --The night has been cold; the peaks around the lake gleam outbrightly in the morning sun, and the thermometer is at zero. We continuedup the hollow formed by a small affluent to the lake, and immediatelyentered an open pine forest on the mountain. The way here was sometimesobstructed 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 wereagreeably surprised by the unexpected arrival of our Tlamath chief withseveral Indians. He seemed to have found his conduct inhospitable inletting the strangers depart without a guide through the snow, and hadcome, with a few others, to pilot us a day or two on the way. Aftertraveling in an easterly direction through the forest for about fourhours, we reached a considerable stream, with a border of good grass; andhere, by the advice of our guides, we encamped. It is about thirty feetwide, and two to four feet deep, the water clear, with some current; and, according to the information of our Indians, is the principal affluent tothe 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 forthe long. 121° 20' 42", and for the lat. 42° 51' 26". This emersioncoincides remarkably well with the result obtained from an occultation atthe encampment of December 7th to 8th, 1843; from which place, the line ofour 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 athick snow-storm, always through pine forests, when we came down upon thehead-waters of another stream, on which there was grass. The snow lay deepon the ground, and only the high swamp-grass appeared above. The Indianswere thinly clad, and I had remarked during the day that they sufferedfrom cold. This evening they told me that the snow was getting too deep onthe mountain, and I could not induce them to go any farther. The stream wehad struck issued from the mountain in an easterly direction, turning tothe southward a short distance below; and, drawing its course upon theground, they made us comprehend that it pursued its way for a longdistance in that direction, uniting with many other streams, and graduallybecoming a great river. Without the subsequent information, whichconfirmed the opinion, we became immediately satisfied that this waterformed the principal stream of the Sacramento river; and, consequently, that this main affluent of the bay of San Francisco had its source withinthe 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 of42°, and within the United States. 

15th. --A present, consisting of useful goods, afforded much satisfactionto our guides; and, showing them the national flag, I explained that itwas a symbol of our nation; and they engaged always to receive it in afriendly manner. The chief pointed out a course, by following which wewould arrive at the big water, where no more snow was to be found. Traveling in a direction N. 60° E. By compass, which the Indians informedme would avoid a bad mountain to the right, we crossed the Sacramentowhere it turned to the southward, and entered a grassy level plain--asmaller Grand Rond; from the lower end of which the river issued into aninviting country of low rolling hills. Crossing a hard-frozen swamp on thefarther side of the Rond, we entered again the pine forest, in which verydeep snow made our traveling slow and laborious. We were slowly butgradually 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 grassshowed above the snow, on the side of a hollow; and here we encamped. Ourcow, which every day got poorer, was killed here, but the meat was rathertough. 

16th. --We traveled this morning through snow about three feet deep, which, being crusted, very much cut the feet of our animals. The mountain stillgradually 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 wereprofoundly still; and below, we scarcely felt a breath of the wind whichwhirled the snow through their branches. I found that it required someexertion 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 onthe mountain. Towards noon the forest looked clear ahead, appearingsuddenly 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 avertical and rocky wall of the mountain. At our feet--more than a thousandfeet below--we looked into a green prairie country, in which a beautifullake, some twenty miles in length, was spread along the foot of themountains, its shores bordered with green grass. Just then the sun brokeout among the clouds, and illuminated the country below; while around usthe storm raged fiercely. Not a particle of ice was to be seen on thelake, or snow on its borders, and all was like summer or spring. The glowof the sun in the valley below brightened up our hearts with suddenpleasure; 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, weexclaimed at once that the names of Summer Lake and Winter Ridge should beapplied 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 hadbeen traveling so many days; and, looking forward to the east, scarce atree was to be seen. Viewed from our elevation, the face of the countryexhibited only rocks and grass, and presented a region in which theartemisia became the principal wood, furnishing to its scatteredinhabitants fuel for their fires, building material for their huts, andshelter for the small game which ministers to their hunger and nakedness. Broadly marked by the boundary at the mountain wall, and immediately belowus, were the first waters of that Great Interior Basin which has theWahsatch and Bear River mountains for its eastern, and the Sierra Nevadafor its western rim; and the edge of which we had entered upwards of threemonths before, at the Great Salt Lake. 

When we had sufficiently admired the scene below, we began to think aboutdescending, which here was impossible, and we turned towards the north, traveling always along the rocky wall. We continued on for four or fivemiles, making ineffectual attempts at several places; and at lengthsucceeded in getting down at one which was extremely difficult of descent. Night had closed in before the foremost reached the bottom, and it wasdark before we all found ourselves together in the valley. There werethree or four half-dead dry cedar-trees on the shore, and those who firstarrived kindled bright fires to light on the others. One of the mulesrolled over and over two or three hundred feet into a ravine, butrecovered himself without any other injury than to his pack; and thehowitzer was left midway the mountain until morning. By observation, thelatitude of this encampment is 42° 57' 22". It delayed us until near noonthe next day to recover ourselves and put every thing in order; and wemade only a short camp along the western shore of the lake, which, in thesummer 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 highlandsbeyond; but I distrusted the appearance of the country, and decided tofollow 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 makestraveling dangerous, and great caution was necessary. 

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

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

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

The rapid stream of pure water, roaring along between banks overhung withaspens and willows, was a refreshing and unexpected sight; and we followeddown the course of the stream, which brought us soon into a marsh, or drylake, formed by the expanding waters of the stream. It was covered withhigh reeds and rushes, and large patches of ground had been turned up bythe squaws in digging for roots, as if a farmer had been preparing theland for grain. I could not succeed in finding the plant for which theyhad been digging. There were frequent trails, and fresh tracks of Indians;and, from the abundant signs visible, the black-tailed hare appears to benumerous here. It was evident that, in other seasons, this place was asheet of water. Crossing this marsh towards the eastern hills, and passingover a bordering plain of heavy sands, covered with artemisia, we encampedbefore sundown on the creek, which here was very small, having lost itswater in the marshy grounds. We found here tolerably good grass. The windto-night was high, and we had no longer our huge pine fires, but weredriven to our old resource of small dried willows and artemisia. About 12miles ahead, the valley appears to be closed in by a high, dark-lookingridge. 

20th. --Traveling for a few hours down the stream this morning, we turnedthe point of a hill on our left, and came suddenly in sight of another andmuch larger lake, which, along its eastern shore, was closely bordered bythe high black ridge which walled it in by a precipitous face on thisside. Throughout this region the face of the country is characterized bythese precipices of black volcanic rock, generally enclosing the valleysof streams, and frequently terminating the hills. Often, in the course ofour journey, we would be tempted to continue our road up the gentle ascentof a sloping hill, which, at the summit, would terminate abruptly in ablack precipice. Spread out over a length of 20 miles, the lake, when wefirst came in view, presented a handsome sheet of water, and I gave to itthe name of Lake Abert, in honor of the chief of the corps to which Ibelonged. The fresh-water stream we had followed emptied into the lake bya little fall; and I was doubtful for a moment whether to go on, or encampat this place. The miry ground in the neighborhood of the lake did notallow us to examine the water conveniently, and, being now on the bordersof a desert country, we were moving cautiously. It was, however, stillearly in the day, and I continued on trusting either that the water wouldbe drinkable or that we should find some little spring from the hill-side. We were following an Indian trail which led along the steep rockyprecipice--a black ridge along the western shore holding out no prospectwhatever. The white efflorescences which lined the shore like a bank ofsnow, and the disagreeable odor which filled the air as soon as we camenear, informed us too plainly that the water belonged to one of thosefetid salt lakes which are common in this region. We continued until latein the evening to work along the rocky shore, but, as often afterwards, the dry, inhospitable rock deceived us; and, halting on the lake, wekindled up fires to guide those who were straggling along behind. We triedthe 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 greatreluctance to close the day without supper, dug holes along the shore, andobtained water, which, being filtered, was sufficiently palatable to beused, but still retained much of its nauseating taste. There was verylittle grass for the animals, the shore being lined with a luxuriantgrowth 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, whenwe reached a place where the mountains made a bay, leaving at their feet alow bottom around the lake. Here we found numerous hillocks covered withrushes, 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 andunwholesome quality, and mixed with saline efflorescences, was stillabundant, and made a good halting-place to recruit our animals, and weaccordingly encamped here for the remainder of the day. I rode aheadseveral miles to ascertain if there was any appearance of a water-courseentering the lake, but found none, the hills preserving their drycharacter, and the shore of the lake sprinkled with the same white powderysubstance, and covered with the same shrubs. There were flocks of ducks onthe lake, and frequent tracks of Indians along the shore, where the grasshad been recently burnt by their fires. 

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

22d. --To-day we left this forbidding lake. Impassable rocky ridges barredour progress to the eastward, and I accordingly bore off towards thesouth, over an extensive sage-plain. At a considerable distance ahead, anda little on our left, was a range of snowy mountains, and the countrydeclined gradually towards the foot of a high and nearer ridge, immediately before us, which presented the feature of black precipices nowbecoming common to the country. On the summit of the ridge, snow wasvisible; and there being every indication of a stream at its base, we rodeon until after dark, but were unable to reach it, and halted among thesage-bushes on the open plain, without either grass or water. The twoIndia-rubber bags had been filled with water in the morning, whichafforded sufficient for the camp; and rain in the night formed pools, which relieved the thirst of the animals. Where we encamped on the bleaksandy plain, the Indians had made huts or circular enclosures, about fourfeet high and twelve feet broad, of artemisia bushes. Whether these hadbeen 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°; the windhaving been from the southward for several days. The country has a veryforbidding appearance, presenting to the eye nothing but sage, and barrenridges. We rode up towards the mountain, along the foot of which we founda lake, that we could not approach on account of the mud; and, passingaround its southern end, ascended the slope at the foot of the ridge, where in some hollows we had discovered bushes and small trees--in suchsituations, a sure sign of water. We found here several springs, and thehill-side was well sprinkled with a species of _festuca_--a bettergrass than we had found for many days. Our elevated position gave us agood view over the country, but we discovered nothing very encouraging. Southward, about ten miles distant, was another small lake, towards whicha broad trail led along the ridge; and this appearing to afford the mostpracticable route, I determined to continue our journey in that direction. 

24th. --We found the water at the lake tolerably pure, and encamped at thefarther end. There were some good grass and canes along the shore, and thevegetables 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 ofwhich we bestowed on the lake. It was the first time, perhaps, in thisremote and desolate region, in which it had been so commemorated. Always, on days of religious or national commemoration, our voyageurs expect someunusual allowance; and having nothing else, I gave them each a littlebrandy, (which was carefully guarded, as one of the most useful articles atraveler can carry, ) with some coffee and sugar, which here, where everyeatable was a luxury, was sufficient to make them a feast. The day wassunny and warm; and resuming our journey, we crossed some slight dividinggrounds into a similar basin, walled in on the right by a lofty mountainridge. The plainly-beaten trail still continued, and occasionally wepassed camping-grounds of the Indians, which indicated to me that we wereon one of the great thoroughfares of the country. In the afternoon Iattempted to travel in a more eastern direction; but after a few laboriousmiles, was beaten back into the basin by an impassable country. There werefresh 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 inponds, colored by a clay soil, and frozen over. Chenopodiaceous shrubsconstituted the growth, and made again our firewood. The animals weredriven to the hill, where there was tolerably good grass. 

26th. --Our general course was again south. The country consists of largeror smaller basins, into which the mountain waters run down, forming smalllakes: they present a perfect level, from which the mountains riseimmediately and abruptly. Between the successive basins, the dividinggrounds are usually very slight; and it is probable that in the seasons ofhigh water, many of these basins are in communication. At such times thereis evidently an abundance of water, though now we find scarcely more thanthe dry beds. On either side, the mountains, though not very high, appearto be rocky and sterile. The basin in which we were traveling declinedtowards the southwest corner, where the mountains indicated a narrowoutlet; and, turning round a rocky point or cape, we continued up alateral branch valley, in which we encamped at night, on a rapid, prettylittle stream of fresh water, which we found unexpectedly among the sage, near the ridge, on the right side of the valley. It was bordered withgrassy bottoms and clumps of willows; the water partially frozen. Thisstream 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 ahorse belonging to Carson, one of the best we had in the camp, was stolenby the Indians. 

27th. --We continued up the valley of the stream, the principal branch ofwhich here issues from a bed of high mountains. We turned up a branch tothe left, and fell into an Indian trail, which conducted us by a good roadover open bottoms along the creek, where the snow was five or six inchesdeep. Gradually ascending, the trail led through a good broad pass in themountain, where we found the snow about one foot deep. There were someremarkably large cedars in the pass, which were covered with an unusualquantity of frost, which we supposed might possibly indicate theneighborhood of water; and as, in the arbitrary position of Mary's lake, we were already beginning to look for it, this circumstance contributed toour hope of finding it near. Descending from the mountain, we reachedanother basin, on the flat lake bed of which we found no water, andencamped among the sage on the bordering plain, where the snow was stillabout 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 werestolen, to follow the tracks of the Indians into the mountains, and put atemporary check to their sly operations; but it did not occur again. 

Our road this morning lay down a level valley, bordered by steepmountainous ridges, rising very abruptly from the plain. Artemisia was theprincipal plant, mingled with Fremontia and the chenopodiaceous shrubs. The artemisia was here extremely large, being sometimes a foot indiameter, and eight feet high. Riding quietly along over the snow, we camesuddenly upon smokes rising among these bushes; and, galloping up, wefound two huts, open at the top, and loosely built of sage, which appearedto have been deserted at the instant; and, looking hastily around, we sawseveral Indians on the crest of the ridge near by, and several othersscrambling up the side. We had come upon them so suddenly, that they hadbeen well-nigh surprised in their lodges. A sage fire was burning in themiddle; a few baskets made of straw were lying about, with one or tworabbit-skins; and there was a little grass scattered about, on which theyhad been lying. "Tabibo--bo!" they shouted from the hills--a word which, in the Snake language, signifies _white_--and remained looking at usfrom behind the rocks. Carson and Godey rode towards the hill, but the menran off like deer. They had been so much pressed, that a woman with twochildren had dropped behind a sage-bush near the lodge, and when Carsonaccidentally stumbled upon her, she immediately began screaming in theextremity of fear, and shut her eyes fast to avoid seeing him. She wasbrought back to the lodge, and we endeavored in vain to open acommunication with the men. By dint of presents, and friendlydemonstrations, she was brought to calmness; and we found that theybelonged to the Snake nation, speaking the language of that people. Eightor ten appeared to live together, under the same little shelter; and theyseemed to have no other subsistence than the roots or seeds they mighthave stored up, and the hares which live in the sage, and which they areenabled to track through the snow, and are very skilful in killing. Theirskins afford them a little scanty covering. Herding together among bushes, and crouching almost naked over a little sage fire, using their instinctonly to procure food, these may be considered, among human beings, thenearest approach to the animal creation. We have reason to believe thatthese had never before seen the face of a white man. 

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

29th. --The morning mild, and at 4 o'clock it commenced snowing. We tookour way across a plain, thickly covered with snow, towards a range ofhills in the southeast. The sky soon became so dark with snow, that littlecould be seen of the surrounding country; and we reached the summit of thehills in a heavy snow-storm. On the side we had approached, this hadappeared to be only a ridge of low hills and we were surprised to findourselves on the summit of a bed of broken mountains, which, as far as theweather would permit us to see, declined rapidly to some low countryahead, presenting a dreary and savage character; and for a moment I lookedaround in doubt on the wild and inhospitable prospect, scarcely knowingwhat road to take which might conduct us to some place of shelter for thenight. Noticing among the hills the head of a grassy hollow, I determinedto follow it, in the hope that it would conduct us to a stream. Wefollowed a winding descent for several miles, the hollow graduallybroadening into little meadows, and becoming the bed of a stream as weadvanced; and towards night we were agreeably surprised by the appearanceof a willow grove, where we found a sheltered camp, with water andexcellent and abundant grass. The grass, which was covered by the snow onthe bottom, was long and green, and the face of the mountain had a morefavorable character in its vegetation, being smoother, and covered withgood bunch-grass. The snow was deep, and the night very cold. A broadtrail had entered the valley from the right, and a short distance belowthe camp were the tracks where a considerable party of Indians had passedon horseback, who had turned out to the left, apparently with the view ofcrossing the mountains to the eastward. 

30th. --After following the stream for a few hours in a southeasterlydirection, it entered a canon where we could not follow; but, determinednot to leave the stream, we searched a passage below, where we couldregain it, and entered a regular narrow valley. The water had now more theappearance 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 inMary's lake, and conduct us into a better country. We had descendedrapidly, and here we found very little snow. On both sides, the mountainsshowed often stupendous and curious-looking rocks, which at several placesso narrowed the valley, that scarcely a pass was left for the camp. It wasa 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 oneither hand, and the narrow strip of sky above. The grass to-night wasabundant, and we encamped in high spirits. 

31st. --After an hour's ride this morning, our hopes were once moredestroyed. The valley opened out, and before us again lay one of the drybasins. After some search, we discovered a high-water outlet, whichbrought us in a few miles, and by a descent of several hundred feet, intoa long, broad basin, in which we found the bed of the stream, and obtainedsufficient water by cutting the ice. The grass on the bottoms was salt andunpalatable. 

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

JANUARY. 

New Year's day, 1844. --We continued down the valley, between a dry-lookingblack ridge on the left, and a more snowy and high one on the right. Ourroad was bad along the bottom, being broken by gullies and impeded bysage, and sandy on the hills, where there is not a blade of grass, nordoes any appear on the mountains. The soil in many places consists of afine powdery sand, covered with a saline efflorescence; and the generalcharacter of the country is desert. During the day we directed our coursetowards a black cape, at the foot of which a column of smoke indicated hotsprings. 

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

3d. --A fog, so dense that we could not see a hundred yards, covered thecountry, and the men that were sent out after the horses were bewilderedand 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 overthe position where, according to the best maps in my possession, we shouldhave found Mary's lake or river. We were evidently on the verge of thedesert which had been reported to us; and the appearance of the countrywas so forbidding, that I was afraid to enter it, and determined to bearaway to the southward, keeping close along the mountains, in the fullexpectation of reaching the Buenaventura river. This morning I put everyman in the camp on foot--myself, of course, among the rest--and in thismanner lightened by distribution the loads of the animals. We traveledseven or eight miles along the ridge bordering the valley, and encampedwhere there were a few bunches of grass on the bed of a hill-torrent, without water. There were some large artemisias; but the principal plantsare chenopodiaceous shrubs. The rock composing the mountains is herechanged suddenly into white granite. The fog showed the tops of the hillsat sunset, and stars enough for observations in the early evening, andthen closed over us as before. Latitude by observation, 40° 48' 15". 

4th. --The fog to-day was still more dense, and the people again werebewildered. 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. Ouranimals now were in a very alarming state, and there was increased anxietyin the camp. 

5th. --Same dense fog continued, and one of the mules died in camp thismorning. I have had occasion to remark, on such occasions as these, thatanimals 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 littlebetter grass, about two miles distant. Taplin, one of our best men, whohad gone out on a scouting excursion, ascended a mountain near by, and tohis surprise emerged into a region of bright sunshine, in which the upperparts of the mountain were glowing, while below all was obscured in thedarkest fog. 

6th. --The fog continued the same, and, with Mr. Preuss and Carson, Iascended the mountain, to sketch the leading features of the country assome indication of our future route, while Mr. Fitzpatrick explored thecountry below. In a very short distance we had ascended above the mist, but the view obtained was not very gratifying. The fog had partiallycleared off from below when we reached the summit; and in the southwestcorner of a basin communicating with that in which we had encamped, we sawa lofty column of smoke, 16 miles distant, indicating the presence of hotsprings. There, also, appeared to be the outlet of those draining channelsof the country; and, as such places afforded always more or less grass, Idetermined to steer in that direction. The ridge we had ascended appearedto be composed of fragments of white granite. We saw here traces of sheepand 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 reachedthe springs, where we found an abundance of grass, which, though onlytolerably good, made this place, with reference to the past, a refreshingand agreeable spot. 

This is the most extraordinary locality of hot springs we had met duringthe journey. The basin of the largest one has a circumference of severalhundred feet; but there is at one extremity a circular space of aboutfifteen feet in diameter, entirely occupied by the boiling water. It boilsup at irregular intervals, and with much noise. The water is clear, andthe spring deep: a pole about sixteen feet long was easily immersed in thecentre; but we had no means of forming a good idea of the depth. It wassurrounded on the margin with a border of _green_ grass, and near theshore the temperature of the water was 206°. We had no means ofascertaining that of the centre, where the heat was greatest; but, bydispersing the water with a pole, the temperature at the margin wasincreased to 208°, and in the centre it was doubtless higher. By drivingthe pole towards the bottom, the water was made to boil up with increasedforce and noise. There are several other interesting places, where waterand smoke or gas escape; but they would require a long description. Thewater is impregnated with common salt, but not so much as to render itunfit for general cooking; and a mixture of snow made it pleasant todrink. 

In the immediate neighborhood, the valley bottom is covered almostexclusively with chenopodiaceous shrubs, of greater luxuriance, and largergrowth, 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 fromthe injured condition of their feet, and those stolen by Indians, we hadlost, since leaving the Dalles of the Columbia, fifteen animals; and ofthese, 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 wayahead, by having the line of route explored some fifteen or twenty milesin advance, and only to leave a present encampment when the succeeding onewas known. 

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

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

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

On the 9th we crossed over to the cottonwood camp. Among the shrubs on thehills were a few bushes of _ephedra occidentalis_, which afterwardsoccurred frequently along the road, and, as usual, the lowlands wereoccupied with artemisia. While the party proceeded to this place, Carsonand myself reconnoitred the road in advance, and found another goodencampment for the following day. 

10th. --We continued our reconnoissance ahead, pursuing a south directionin the basin along the ridge; the camp following slowly after. On a largetrail 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 themountain which enclosed it, an abundance of good bunch-grass. Leaving asignal for the party to encamp, we continued our way up the hollow, intending to see what lay beyond the mountain. The hollow was severalmiles long, forming a good pass; the snow deepening to about a foot as weneared the summit. Beyond, a defile between the mountains descendedrapidly about two thousand feet; and, filling up all the lower space, wasa sheet of green water, some twenty miles broad. It broke upon our eyeslike the ocean. The neighboring peaks rose high above us, and we ascendedone 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 along time we sat enjoying the view, for we had become fatigued withmountains, and the free expanse of moving waves was very grateful. It wasset like a gem in the mountains, which, from our position, seemed toenclose it almost entirely. At the western end it communicated with theline of basins we had left a few days since; and on the opposite side itswept a ridge of snowy mountains, the foot of the great Sierra. Itsposition at first inclined us to believe it Mary's lake, but the ruggedmountains were so entirely discordant with descriptions of its low rushyshores 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, andencamped on a little stream at the mouth of the defile, about a mile fromthe margin of the water, to which we hurried down immediately. The wateris so slightly salt, that, at first, we thought it fresh, and would bepleasant to drink when no other could be had. The shore was rocky--ahandsome beach, which reminded us of the sea. On some large _granite_boulders that were scattered about the shore, I remarked a coating ofcalcareous substance, in some places a few inches, and in others a foot inthickness. Near our camp, the hills, which were of primitive rock, werealso covered with this substance, which was in too great quantity on themountains along the shore of the lake to have been deposited by water, andhas the appearance of having been spread over the rocks in mass. 

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

Carbonate of lime------------------ 77. 31Carbonate of magnesia-------------- 5. 25Oxide of iron---------------------- 1. 60Alumina---------------------------- 1. 05Silica----------------------------- 8. 55Organic 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 laketo 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 theprecipitous mountains, the peaks of which are about 3, 000 feet above thelake. The trail wound along the base of these precipices, against whichthe 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 foamingserf, five or six feet high. The day was unpleasantly cold, the winddriving the snow sharp against our faces; and, having advanced only about12 miles, we encamped in a bottom formed by a ravine, covered with goodgrass, which was fresh and green. 

We did not get the howitzer into camp, but were obliged to leave it on therocks until morning. We saw several flocks of sheep, but did not succeedin killing any. Ducks were riding on the waves, and several large fishwere seen. The mountain sides were crusted with the calcareous cementpreviously mentioned. There were chenopodiaceous and other shrubs alongthe beach; and, at the foot of the rocks, an abundance of _ephedraoccidentalis_, whose dark-green color makes them evergreens among theshrubby growth of the lake. Towards evening the snow began to fallheavily, and the country had a wintry appearance. 

The next morning the snow was rapidly melting under a warm sun. Part ofthe morning was occupied in bringing up the gun; and, making only ninemiles, we encamped on the shore, opposite a very remarkable rock in thelake, which had attracted our attention for many miles. It rose, accordingto our estimate, 600 feet above the water, and, from the point we viewedit, presented a pretty exact outline of the great pyramid of Cheops. Likeother rocks along the shore, it seemed to be incrusted with calcareouscement. This striking feature suggested a name for the lake, and I calledit Pyramid Lake; and though it may be deemed by some a fancifulresemblance, I can undertake to say that the future traveler will findmuch more striking resemblance between this rock and the pyramids ofEgypt, than there is between them and the object from which they taketheir name. 

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

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

15th. --A few poor-looking Indians made their appearance this morning, andwe succeeded in getting one into the camp. He was naked, with theexception of a tunic of hare-skins. He told us that there was a river atthe end of the lake, but that he lived in the rocks near by. From the fewwords our people could understand, he spoke a dialect of the Snakelanguage; but we were not able to understand enough to know Whether theriver ran in or out, or what was its course; consequently, there stillremained 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 humanbeings could live. Accompanied by the Indian, we resumed our road, passingon 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 mouthof the river, three or four Indians met us on the trail. We had anexplanatory conversation in signs, and then we moved on together towardsthe village, which the chief said was encamped on the bottom. 

Reaching the groves, we found the _inlet_ of a large freshwaterstream, and all at once were satisfied that it was neither Mary's rivernor the waters of the Sacramento, but that we had discovered a largeinterior lake, which the Indians informed us had no outlet. It is about 35miles long, and, by the mark of the water-line along the shore, the springlevel is about 12 feet above its present waters. The chief commencedspeaking in a loud voice as we approached; and parties of Indians, armedwith bows and arrows, issued from the thickets. We selected a strong placefor our encampment--a grassy bottom, nearly enclosed by the river, andfurnished with abundant firewood. The village, a collection of straw huts, was a few hundred yards higher up. An Indian brought in a large fish totrade, which we had the inexpressible satisfaction to find was a salmon-trout; we gathered round him eagerly. The Indians were amused with ourdelight, and immediately brought in numbers, so that the camp was soonstocked. Their flavor was excellent--superior, in fact, to that of anyfish I have ever known. They were of extraordinary size--about as large asthe Columbia River salmon--generally from two to four feet in length. Fromthe information of Mr. Walker, who passed among some lakes lying more tothe eastward, this fish is common to the streams of the inland lakes. Hesubsequently informed me that he had obtained them weighing six poundswhen cleaned and the head taken off, which corresponds very well with thesize of those obtained at this place. They doubtless formed thesubsistence 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; beingof the Digger tribe, and having no share in the fishery, living generallyon seeds and roots. Although this was a time of the year when the fishhave not yet become fat, they were excellent, and we could only imaginewhat they are at the proper season. These Indians were very fat, andappeared to live an easy and happy life. They crowded into the camp morethan was consistent with our safety, retaining always their arms; and, asthey made some unsatisfactory demonstrations, they were given tounderstand that they would not be permitted to come armed into the camp;and strong guards were kept with the horses. Strict vigilance wasmaintained among the people, and one-third at a time were kept on guardduring the night. There is no reason to doubt that these dispositions, uniformly preserved, conducted our party securely through Indians famedfor treachery. 

In the mean time, such a salmon-trout feast as is seldom seen was going onin our camp; and every variety of manner in which fish could be prepared--boiled, fried, and roasted in the ashes--was put into requisition; andevery few minutes an Indian would be seen running off to spear a freshone. Whether these Indians had seen whites before, we could not becertain; but they were evidently in communication with others who had, asone of them had some brass buttons, and we noticed several other articlesof civilized manufacture. We could obtain from them but little informationrespecting the country. They made on the ground a drawing of the river, which they represented as issuing from another lake in the mountains threeor 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 theytold us that people like ourselves traveled. Whether they alluded to thesettlements on the Sacramento, or to a party from the United States whichhad crossed the Sierra about three degrees to the southward, a few yearssince, I am unable to determine. 

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

The latitude of our encampment, which may be considered the mouth of theinlet, is 39° 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 oneither side; the stream was handsomely timbered with large cottonwoods;and the waters were very clear and pure. We were traveling along themountains 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 damswhich the Indians had constructed to catch fish. After having made about18 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 onthe west. With every stream I now expected to see the great Buenaventura;and Carson hurried eagerly to search, on every one we reached, for beavercuttings, which he always maintained we should find only on waters thatran to the Pacific; and the absence of such signs was to him a sureindication that the water had no outlet from the Great Basin. We followedthe Indian trail through a tolerably level country, with small sage-bushes, which brought us, after 20 miles' journey, to another largestream, 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 ranup the mountain with rapidity; and the woman was so terrified, and kept upsuch a continued screaming, that we could do nothing with her, and wereobliged to let her go. 

18th. --There were Indian lodges and fish-dams on the stream. There were nobeaver cuttings on the river; but below, it turned round to the right;and, hoping that it would prove a branch of the Buenaventura, we followedit 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. Thisstream joined with the open valley of another to the eastward; but whichway the main water ran, it was impossible to tell. Columns of smoke roseover the country at scattered intervals--signals by which the Indianshere, as elsewhere, communicate to each other that enemies are in thecountry. It is a signal of ancient and very universal application amongbarbarians. 

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 theRocky mountains. Every piece of iron that could be used for the purposehad been converted into nails, and we could make no further use of theshoes we had remaining. I therefore determined to abandon my easterncourse, and to cross the Sierra Nevada into the valley of the Sacramento, wherever a practicable pass could be found. My decision was heard with joyby the people, and diffused new life throughout the camp. 

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

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

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

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

We ascended a peak of the range, which commanded a view of this streambehind the first ridge, where it was winding its course through a somewhatopen valley, and I sometimes regret that I did not make the trial to crosshere; but while we had fair weather below, the mountains were darkenedwith falling snow, and, feeling unwilling to encounter them, we turnedaway again to the southward. In that direction we traveled the next dayover a tolerably level country, having always the high mountains on thewest. There was but little snow or rock on the ground; and, after havingtraveled 24 miles, we encamped again on another large stream, running offto the northward and eastward, to meet that we had left. It ran throughbroad bottoms, having a fine meadow-land appearance. 

Latitude 39° 01' 53". 

22d. --We traveled up the stream about fourteen miles, to the foot of themountains, from which one branch issued in the southwest, the otherflowing S. S. E. Along their base. Leaving camp below, we ascended the rangethrough which the first stream passed, in a canon; on the western side wasa circular valley about 15 miles long, through which the stream wound itsway, issuing from a gorge in the main mountain, which rose abruptlybeyond. The valley looked yellow with faded grass; and the trail we hadfollowed was visible, making towards the gorge, and this was evidently apass; but again, while all was bright sunshine on the ridge and on thevalley where we were, the snow was falling heavily in the mountains. Idetermined go still to the southward, and encamped on the stream near theforks, the animals being fatigued and the grass tolerably good. 

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

By observation, the elevation of the encampment was 5, 020 feet; and thelatitude 38° 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 asomewhat rough-looking mountain ahead, which it appeared to issue from, orto enter--we could not tell which; and as the course of the valley and theinclination of the ground had a favorable direction, we were sanguine tofind here a branch of the Buenaventura; but were again disappointed, finding it an inland water, on which we encamped after a day's journey of24 miles. It was evident that, from the time we descended into the plainat Summer lake, we had been flanking the great range of mountains whichdivided the Great Basin from the waters of the Pacific; and that thecontinued succession, and almost connection, of lakes and rivers which weencountered, were the drainings of that range. Its rains, springs, andsnows, would sufficiently account for these lakes and streams, numerous asthey were. 

24th. --A man was discovered running towards the camp as we were about tostart this morning, who proved to be an Indian of rather advanced age--asort of forlorn hope, who seemed to have been worked up into theresolution 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 newspecies, under the name of _pinus monophyllus_; in popular languageit 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, asit constitutes the principal subsistence of the tribes among which we werenow traveling. By a present of scarlet cloth, and other striking articles, we prevailed upon this man to be our guide of two days' journey. Asclearly as possible by signs, we made him understand our object; and heengaged to conduct us in sight of a good pass which he knew. Here weceased to hear the Shoshonee language--that of this man being perfectlyunintelligible. Several Indians, who had been waiting to see whatreception he would meet with, now came into camp; and, accompanied by thenew-comers, we resumed our journey. 

The road led us up the creek, which here becomes a rather rapid mountainstream, fifty feet wide, between dark-looking hills without snow; butimmediately beyond them rose snowy mountains on either side, timberedprincipally with the nut pine. On the lower grounds, the general height ofthis tree is twelve to twenty feet, and eight inches the greatestdiameter; it is rather branching, and has a peculiar and singular, butpleasant odor. We followed the river for only a short distance along arocky trail, and crossed it at a dam which the Indians made us comprehendhad been built to catch salmon trout. The snow and ice were heaped upagainst it three or four feet deep entirely across the stream. 

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

25th. --The morning was cold and bright, and as the sun rose the day becamebeautiful. A party of twelve Indians came down from the mountains to tradepine nuts, of which each one carried a little bag. These seemed now to bethe staple of the country; and whenever we met an Indian, his friendlysalutation consisted in offering a few nuts to eat and to trade; theironly arms were bows and flint-pointed arrows. It appeared that in almostall the valleys the neighboring bands were at war with each other; and wehad some difficulty in prevailing on our guides to accompany us on thisday's journey, being at war with the people on the other side of a largesnowy mountain which lay before us. 

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

The snow deepened gradually as we advanced. Our guides wore out theirmoccasins; and putting one of them on a horse, we enjoyed the unusualsight 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 fourfeet deep on the summit of the, pass; and from this point the guidepointed out our future road, declining to go any further. Below us was alittle valley; and beyond this the mountains rose higher still, one ridgeabove another, presenting a rude and rocky outline. We descended rapidlyto the valley: the snow impeded us but little; yet it was dark when wereached 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 suddenlycold, and we had great difficulty to keep our feet from freezing--ourmoccasins being frozen perfectly stiff. After a hard day's march of 27miles, we reached the river some time after dark, and found the snow abouta foot deep on the bottom--the river being entirely frozen over. We founda comfortable camp, where there were dry willows abundant, and we soon hadblazing 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 hardday's march. Mr. Preuss questioned whether the famed nectar ever possessedso exquisite a flavor. All felt it to be a reviving cordial. 

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

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

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

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

To the left, the open valley continued in a southwesterly direction, witha scarcely perceptible ascent, forming a beautiful pass, the explorationof 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 thecamp, he was indisposed to hold any communication with us, but showed theway he was going, and pointed for us to go on our road. 

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

27th. --Leaving the camp to follow slowly, with directions to Carson toencamp at the place agreed on, Mr. Fitzpatrick and myself continued thereconnoissance. Arriving at the head of the stream, we began to enter thepass--passing occasionally through open groves of large pine-trees, on thewarm side of the defile, where the snow had melted away, occasionallyexposing a large Indian trail. Continuing along a narrow meadow, wereached, in a few miles, the gate of the pass, where there was a narrowstrip of prairie, about 50 yards wide, between walls of granite rock. Oneither side rose the mountains, forming on the left a rugged mass, ornucleus, wholly covered with deep snow, presenting a glittering and icysurface. At the time, we supposed this to be the point into which theywere gathered between the two great rivers, and from which the watersflowed off to the bay. This was the icy and cold side of the pass, and therays of the sun hardly touched the snow. On the left, the mountains roseinto peaks, but they were lower and secondary, and the country had asomewhat more open and lighter character. On the right were several hotsprings, which appeared remarkable in such a place. In going through, wefelt impressed by the majesty of the mountain, along the huge wall ofwhich we were riding. Here there was no snow; but immediately beyond was adeep 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 ofthe other side, appearing below to form a canon. We therefore climbed oneof the peaks on the right, leaving our horses below; but we were so muchshut up that we did not obtain an extensive view, and what we saw was notvery satisfactory, and awakened considerable doubt. The valley of thestream pursued a northwesterly direction, appearing below to turn sharplyto the right, beyond which further view was cut off. It was, nevertheless, resolved to continue our road the next day down this valley, which wetrusted still would prove that of the middle stream between the two greatrivers. Towards the summit of this peak, the fields of snow were four orfive feet deep on the northern side; and we saw several large hares, whichhad 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 spaceof sky to travel over in the visible part above our horizon; and themoment his rays are gone, the air is keenly cold. The interest of our workhad 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 ahard day's journey of twelve miles, encamped on a high point where thesnow had been blown off, and the exposed grass afforded a scanty pasturefor the animals. Snow and broken country together made our travelingdifficult; we were often compelled to make large circuits, and ascend thehighest and most exposed ridges, in order to avoid snow, which in otherplaces 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 speakingdistance. Godey, who was a little distance from the camp, had sat down totie his moccasins, when he heard a low whistle near, and, looking up, sawtwo Indians half hiding behind a rock about forty yards distant; theywould not allow him to approach, but breaking into a laugh, skimmed offover the snow, seeming to have no idea of the power of firearms, andthinking themselves perfectly safe when beyond arm's length. 

To-night we did not succeed in getting the howitzer into camp. This wasthe most laborious day we had yet passed through, the steep ascents anddeep snow exhausting both men and animals. Our single chronometer hadstopped during the day, and its error in time occasioned the loss of aneclipse of a satellite this evening. It had not preserved the rate withwhich we started from the Dalles, and this will account for the absence oflongitudes 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 beingrequired to bring up the gun, I went ahead with Mr. Fitzpatrick and a fewmen, leaving the camp to follow, in charge of Mr. Preuss. We followed atrail down a hollow where the Indians had descended, the snow being sodeep that we never came near the ground; but this only made our descentthe easier, and, when we reached a little affluent to the river, at thebottom, we suddenly found ourselves in presence of eight or ten Indians. They seemed to be watching our motions, and, like the others, at firstwere indisposed to let us approach, ranging themselves like birds on afallen log, on the hill-side above our heads, where, being out of ourreach, they thought themselves safe. Our friendly demeanor reconciledthem, and, when we got near enough, they immediately stretched out to ushandfuls of pine-nuts, which seemed an exercise of hospitality. We madethem a few presents, and, telling us that their village was a few milesbelow, they went on to let their people know what we were. The principalstream still running through an impracticable canon, we ascended a verysteep hill, which proved afterwards the last and fatal obstacle to ourlittle howitzer, which was finally abandoned at this place. We passedthrough 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 moremiles of very difficult trail, issued into a larger prairie bottom, at thefarther end of which we encamped, in a position rendered strong by rocksand trees. The lower parts of the mountain were covered with the nut-pine. Several Indians appeared on the hill-side, reconnoitring the camp, andwere induced to come in; others came in during the afternoon; and in theevening we held a council. The Indians immediately made it clear that thewaters on which we were also belonged to the Great Basin, in the edge ofwhich we had been since the 17th of December; and it became evident thatwe had still the great ridge on the left to cross before we could reachthe Pacific waters. 

We explained to the Indians that we were endeavoring to find a passageacross the mountains into the country of the whites, whom we were going tosee; and told them that we wished them to bring us a guide, to whom wewould give presents of scarlet cloth, and other articles, which were shownto them. They looked at the reward we offered, and conferred with eachother, but pointed to the snow on the mountain, and drew their handsacross their necks, and raised them above their heads, to show the depth;and signified that it was impossible for us to get through. They madesigns 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 tothat point they engaged to furnish us a guide. They appeared to have aconfused idea, from report, of whites who lived on the other side of themountain; and once, they told us, about two years ago, a party of twelvemen like ourselves had ascended their river, and crossed to the otherwaters. They pointed out to us where they had crossed; but then, theysaid, it was summer time; but now it would be impossible. I believe thatthis was a party led by Mr. Chiles, one of the only two men whom I know tohave passed through the California mountains from the interior of theBasin--Walker being the other; and both were engaged upwards of twentydays, in the summer time, in getting over. Chiles's destination was thebay of San Francisco, to which he descended by the Stanislaus river; andWalker subsequently informed me that, like myself, descending to thesouthward on a more eastern line, day after day he was searching for theBuenaventura, thinking that he had found it with every new stream, until, like me, he abandoned all idea of its existence, and, turning abruptly tothe right, crossed the great chain. These were both western men, animatedwith 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 theman agreeable addition to our now scanty store of provisions, which werereduced to a very low ebb. Our principal stock was in peas, which it isnot necessary to say contain scarcely any nutriment. We had still a littleflour left, some coffee, and a quantity of sugar, which I reserved as adefence against starvation. 

The Indians informed us that at certain seasons they have fish in theirwaters, which we supposed to be salmon-trout: for the remainder of theyear they live upon the pine-nuts, which form their great wintersubsistence--a portion being always at hand, shut up in the naturalstorehouse of the cones. At present, they were presented to us as a wholepeople living upon this simple vegetable. 

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

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

31st. --We took our way over a gently rising ground, the dividing ridgebeing tolerably low; and traveling easily along a broad trail, in twelveor fourteen miles reached the upper part of the pass, when it began tosnow thickly, with very cold weather. The Indians had only the usualscanty covering, and appeared to suffer greatly from the cold. All leftus, except our guide. Half hidden by the storm, the mountains lookeddreary; and, as night began to approach, the guide showed great reluctanceto go forward. I placed him between two rifles, for the way began to bedifficult. Traveling a little farther, we struck a ravine, which theIndian said would conduct us to the river; and as the poor fellow sufferedgreatly, shivering in the snow which fell upon his naked skin, I would notdetain him any longer; and he ran off to the mountain, where he said was ahut near by. He had kept the blue and scarlet cloth I had given himtightly rolled up, preferring rather to endure the cold than to get themwet. In the course of the afternoon, one of the men had his footfrostbitten; and about dark we had the satisfaction to reach the bottomsof a stream timbered with large trees, among which we found a shelteredcamp, with an abundance of such grass as the season afforded for theanimals. We saw before us, in descending from the pass, a great continuousrange, along which stretched the valley of the river; the lower partssteep, and dark with pines, while above it was hidden in clouds of snow. This we felt instantly satisfied was the central ridge of the SierraNevada, the great California mountain, which only now intervened betweenus and the waters of the bay. We had made a forced march of 26 miles, andthree mules had given out on the road. Up to this point, with theexception of two stolen by Indians, we had lost none of the horses whichhad been brought from the Columbia river, and a number of these were stillstrong 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 nearlynaked Indians; some of them were furnished with long nets in addition tobows, 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 byslight sticks at intervals, and were made from a kind of wild hemp, verymuch resembling in manufacture those common among the Indians of theSacramento valley. They came among us without any fear, and scatteredthemselves about the fires, mainly occupied in gratifying theirastonishment. I was struck by the singular appearance of a row of about adozen, who were sitting on their haunches perched on a log near one of thefires, with their quick sharp eyes following every motion. 

We gathered together a few of the most intelligent of the Indians, andheld this evening an interesting council. I explained to them myintentions. I told them that we had come from a very far country, havingbeen traveling now nearly a year, and that we were desirous simply to goacross the mountain into the country of the other whites. There were twowho appeared particularly intelligent--one, a somewhat old man. He told methat, before the snows fell, it was six sleeps to the place where thewhites lived, but that now it was impossible to cross the mountain onaccount of the deep snow; and showing us, as the others had done, that itwas over our heads, he urged us strongly to follow the course of theriver, which he said would conduct us to a lake in which there were manylarge fish. There, he said, were many people; there was no snow on theground; and we might remain there until the spring. From theirdescriptions, we were enabled to judge that we had encamped on the upperwater of the Salmon Trout river. It is hardly necessary to say that ourcommunication was only by signs, as we understood nothing of theirlanguage; but they spoke, notwithstanding, rapidly and vehemently, explaining what they considered the folly of our intentions, and urging usto go down to the lake. _Tah-ve_, a word signifying snow, we verysoon learned to know, from its frequent repetition. I told him that themen and the horses were strong, that we would break a road through thesnow; 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 themountain. Pulling a bunch of grass from the ground, after a shortdiscussion among themselves, the old man made us comprehend, that if wecould break through the snow, at the end of three days we would come downupon 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 forelk; but beyond that (and he closed his eyes) he had seen nothing; butthere was one among them who had been to the whites, and, going out of thelodge, 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 heswore, first by the sky, and then by the ground, that what he said wastrue. With a large present of goods, we prevailed upon this young man tobe our guide, and he acquired among us the name of Melo--a word signifyingfriend, which they used very frequently. He was thinly clad, and nearlybarefoot; his moccasins being about worn out. We gave him skins to make anew pair, and to enable him to perform his undertaking to us. The Indiansremained in the camp during the night, and we kept the guide and twoothers to sleep in the lodge with us--Carson lying across the door, andhaving made them comprehend the use of our fire arms. 

FEBRUARY. 

1st. --The snow, which had intermitted in the evening, commenced fallingagain in the course of the night; and it snowed steadily all day. In themorning I acquainted the men with my decision, and explained to them thatnecessity required us to make a great effort to clear the mountains. Ireminded them of the beautiful valley of the Sacramento, with which theywere familiar from the descriptions of Carson, who had been there somefifteen years ago, and who, in our late privations, had delighted us inspeaking of its rich pastures and abounding game, and drew a vividcontrast between its summer climate, less than a hundred miles distant, and the falling snow around us. I informed them (and long experience hadgiven them confidence in my observations and good instruments) that almostdirectly west, and only about 70 miles distant, was the great farmingestablishment of Captain Sutter--a gentleman who had formerly lived inMissouri, and, emigrating to this country, had become the possessor of aprincipality. I assured them that, from the heights of the mountain beforeus, we should doubtless see the valley of the Sacramento river, and withone effort place ourselves again in the midst of plenty. The peoplereceived this decision with the cheerful obedience which had alwayscharacterized them, and the day was immediately devoted to thepreparations 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, somearticles of clothing, and a large green blanket, in addition to the blueand scarlet cloth, were lavished upon him, and to his great and evidentcontentment. He arrayed himself in all his colors, and, clad in green, blue, and scarlet, he made a gay-looking Indian; and, with his variouspresents, was probably richer and better clothed than any of his tribe hadever been before. 

I have already said that our provisions were very low; we had neithertallow nor grease of any kind remaining, and the want of salt became oneof our greatest privations. The poor dog which had been found in the BearRiver valley, and which had been a _compagnon de voyage_ ever since, had now become fat, and the mess to which it belonged, requestedpermission to kill it. Leave was granted. Spread out on the snow, the meatlooked very good; and it made a strengthening meal for the greater part ofthe camp. Indians brought in two or three rabbits during the day, whichwere purchased from them. 

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

2d. --It had ceased snowing, and this morning the lower air was clear andfrosty; and six or seven thousand feet above, the peaks of the Sierra nowand then appeared among the rolling clouds, which were rapidly dispersingbefore the sun. Our Indian shook his head as he pointed to the icypinnacles, shooting high up into the sky, and seeming almost immediatelyabove us. Crossing the river on the ice, and leaving it immediately, wecommenced the ascent of the mountain along the valley of a tributarystream. The people were unusually silent, for every man knew that ourenterprise 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 strongesthorses, 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 anintervening ridge to the river we had left. On the way we passed two lowhuts entirely covered with snow, which might very easily have escapedobservation. A family was living in each; and the only trail I saw in theneighborhood was from the door-hole to a nut-pine tree near, whichsupplied them with food and fuel. We found two similar huts on the creekwhere we next arrived; and, traveling a little higher up, encamped on itsbanks 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 exposedsufficient bunch-grass for the animals to-night. 

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

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

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

4th. --I went ahead early with two or three men, each with a led horse tobreak the road. We were obliged to abandon the hollow entirely, and workalong the mountain-side, which was very steep, and the snow covered withan icy crust. We cut a footing as we advanced, and trampled a road throughfor the animals; but occasionally one plunged outside the trail, andslided along the field to the bottom, a hundred yards below. Late in theday we reached another bench in the hollow, where, in summer, the streampassed over a small precipice. Here was a short distance of dividingground between the two ridges, and beyond an open basin, some ten milesacross, whose bottom presented a field of snow. At the further or westernside rose the middle crest of the mountain, a dark-looking ridge ofvolcanic rock. 

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

Towards a pass which the guide indicated here, we attempted in theafternoon to force a road; but after a laborious plunging through two orthree hundred yards, our best horses gave out, entirely refusing to makeany further effort, and, for the time, we were brought to a stand. Theguide informed us that we were entering the deep snow, and here began thedifficulties of the mountain; and to him, and almost to all, ourenterprise seemed hopeless. I returned a short distance back, to the breakin 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 havingsufficient strength to bring themselves up without the packs; and all theline of road between this and the springs was strewed with camp-stores andequipage, and horses floundering in snow. I therefore immediately encampedon 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 chargeof Tabeau, with a strong guard, back to the place where they had beenpastured the night before. Here was a small spot of level ground, protected on one side by the mountain, and on the other sheltered by alittle ridge of rock. It was an open grove of pines, which assimilated insize to the grandeur of the mountain, being frequently six feet indiameter. 

To-night we had no shelter, but we made a large fire around the trunk ofone of the huge pines; and covering the snow with small boughs, on whichwe spread our blankets, soon made ourselves comfortable. The night wasvery bright and clear, though the thermometer was only at 10°. A strongwind, which sprang up at sundown, made it intensely cold; and this was oneof 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 wouldperish in the snow; and that if we would go back, he would show us anotherand a better way across the mountain. He spoke in a very loud voice, andthere was a singular repetition of phrases and arrangement of words, whichrendered 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 uponrock--snow upon snow, " said he; "even if you get over the snow, you willnot be able to get down from the mountains. " He made us the sign ofprecipices, and showed us how the feet of the horses would slip, and throwthem off from the narrow trails that led along their sides. Our Chinook, who comprehended even more readily than ourselves, and believed oursituation hopeless, covered his head with his blanket, and began to weepand lament. "I wanted to see the whites, " said he; "I came away from myown people to see the whites, and I wouldn't care to die among them, buthere"--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 bollsof the pines round about, and the old Indian haranguing, we presented agroup of very serious faces. 

5th. --The night had been too cold to sleep, and we were up very early. Ourguide was standing by the fire with all his finery on; and seeing himshiver in the cold, I threw on his shoulders one of my blankets. We missedhim a few minutes afterwards, and never saw him again. He had deserted. His bad faith and treachery were in perfect keeping with the estimate ofIndian character, which a long intercourse with this people had graduallyforced upon my mind. 

While a portion of the camp were occupied in bringing up the baggage tothis point, the remainder were busied in making sledges and snow-shoes. Ihad determined to explore the mountain ahead, and the sledges were to beused in transporting the baggage. 

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

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

6th. --Accompanied by Mr. Fitzpatrick, I set out to-day with areconnoitring party on snow-shoes. We marched all in single file, trampling the snow as heavily as we could. Crossing the open basin, in amarch of about ten miles we reached the top of one of the peaks, to theleft of the pass indicated by our guide. Far below us, dimmed by thedistance, was a large snowless valley, bounded on the western side, at thedistance of about a hundred miles, by a low range of mountains, whichCarson recognised with delight as the mountains bordering the coast. "There, " said he, "is the little mountain--it is fifteen years since I sawit; 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 noone who had not accompanied us through the incidents of our life for thelast few months could realize the delight with which at last we lookeddown upon it. At the distance of apparently 30 miles beyond us weredistinguished spots of prairie; and a dark line which could be traced withthe glass, was imagined to be the course of the river; but we wereevidently at a great height above the valley, and between us and theplains extended miles of snowy fields and broken ridges of pine-coveredmountains. 

It was late in the day when we turned towards the camp; and it grewrapidly cold as it drew towards night. One of the men became fatigued, andhis feet began to freeze, and building a fire in the trunk of a dry oldcedar, 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, westraggled into the camp one after another, at nightfall; the greaternumber excessively fatigued, only two of the party having ever traveled onsnow-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 thesleighs over the trail we had made, it would be sufficiently hard to bearour animals. At several places between this point and the ridge, we haddiscovered some grassy spots, where the wind and sun had dispersed thesnow from the sides of the hills, and these were to form resting-places tosupport the animals for a night in their passage across. On our way acrosswe had set on fire several broken stumps, and dried trees, to melt holesin the snow for the camps. Its general depth was five feet; but we passedover places where it was 20 feet deep, as shown by the trees. With oneparty drawing sleighs loaded with baggage, I advanced to-day about fourmiles along the trail, and encamped at the first grassy spot, where weexpected to bring our horses. Mr. Fitzpatrick, with another party, remained behind, to form an intermediate station between us and theanimals. 

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

Scenery and weather, combined, must render these mountains beautiful insummer; the purity and deep-blue color of the sky are singularlybeautiful; 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 nowwe would be delighted here; but our provisions are getting fearfullyscant. Sleighs arrived with baggage about ten o'clock; and leaving aportion of it here, we continued on for a mile and a half, and encamped atthe foot of a long hill on this side of the open bottom. 

Bernier and Godey, who yesterday morning had been sent to ascend a higherpeak, got in, hungry and fatigued. They confirmed what we had alreadyseen. Two other sleighs arrived in the afternoon; and the men beingfatigued, I gave them all tea and sugar. Snow clouds began to rise in theS. S. W. ; and, apprehensive of a storm, which would destroy our road, I sentthe people back to Mr. Fitzpatrick, with directions to send for theanimals in the morning. With me remained Mr. Preuss, Mr. Talbot, andCarson, 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, andcommencing to snow before daylight; before morning the trail was covered. We remained quiet in camp all day, in the course of which the weatherimproved. Four sleighs arrived towards evening, with the bedding of themen. We suffer much from the want of salt; and all the men are becomingweak from insufficient food. 

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

The wind kept the air filled with snow during the day; the sky was verydark in the southwest, though elsewhere very clear. The forest here has anoble appearance; and tall cedar is abundant; its greatest height being130 feet, and circumference 20, three or four feet above the ground; andhere I see for the first time the white pine, of which there are somemagnificent trees. Hemlock spruce is among the timber, occasionally aslarge as eight feet in diameter, four feet above the ground; but, inascending, it tapers rapidly to less than one foot at the height of eightyfeet. I have not seen any higher than 130 feet, and the slight upper partis frequently broken off by the wind. The white spruce is frequent; andthe red pine (_pinus colorado_ of the Mexicans) which constitutes thebeautiful forest along the banks of the Sierra Nevada to the northward, ishere the principal tree, not attaining a greater height than 140 feet, though with sometimes a diameter of 10. Most of these trees appeared todiffer slightly from those of the same kind on the other side of thecontinent. 

The elevation of the camp by the boiling point, is 8, 050 feet. We are now1, 000 feet above the level of the South Pass in the Rocky mountains; andstill we are not done ascending. The top of a flat ridge near was bare ofsnow, and very well sprinkled with bunch-grass, sufficient to pasture theanimals 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 columnarstructure; over the surface are scattered large boulders of porous trap. The hills are in many places entirely covered with small fragments ofvolcanic rock. 

Putting on our snow-shoes, we spent the afternoon in exploring a roadahead. The glare of the snow, combined with great fatigue, had renderedmany of the people nearly blind; but we were fortunate in having someblack silk handkerchiefs, which, worn as veils, very much relieved theeye. 

11th. --High wind continued, and our trail this morning was nearlyinvisible--here and there indicated by a little ridge of snow. Oursituation became tiresome and dreary, requiring a strong exercise ofpatience and resolution. 

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

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

13th. --We continued to labor on the road; and in the course of the day hadthe satisfaction to see the people working down the face of the oppositehill, about three miles distant. During the morning we had the pleasure ofa visit from Mr. Fitzpatrick, with the information that all was going onwell. A party of Indians had passed on snow-shoes, who said they weregoing to the western side of the mountain after fish. This was anindication that the salmon were coming up the streams; and we could hardlyrestrain our impatience as we thought of them, and worked with increasedvigor. 

The meat train did not arrive this evening, and I gave Godey leave to killour little dog, (Tlamath, ) which he prepared in Indian fashion; scorchingoff the hair, and washing the skin with soap and snow, and then cutting itup into pieces, which were laid on the snow. Shortly afterwards, thesleigh arrived with a supply of horse-meat; and we had to-night anextraordinary 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 theright; from which we had a beautiful view of a mountain lake at our feet, about fifteen miles in length, and so entirely surrounded by mountainsthat we could not discover an outlet. We had taken with us a glass; butthough we enjoyed an extended view, the valley was half hidden in mist, aswhen we had seen it before. Snow could be distinguished on the higherparts of the coast mountains; eastward, as far as the eye could extend, itranged over a terrible mass of broken snowy mountains, fading off blue inthe distance. The rock composing the summit consists of a very coarse, dark, volcanic conglomerate; the lower parts appeared to be of a slatystructure. The highest trees were a few scattering cedars and aspens. Fromthe immediate foot of the peak, we were two hours reaching the summit, andone 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 inthe sky, the snow melts rapidly, and gushing springs cover the face of themountain in all the exposed places; but their surface freezes instantlywith the disappearance of the sun. 

I obtained to-night some observations; and the result from these, andothers made during our stay, gives for the latitude 38° 41' 57", longitude120° 25' 57", and rate of the chronometer 25. 82". 

16th. --We had succeeded in getting our animals safely to the first grassyhill; and this morning I started with Jacob on a reconnoitring expeditionbeyond the mountain. We traveled along the crests of narrow ridges, extending down from the mountain in the direction of the valley, fromwhich the snow was fast melting away. On the open spots was tolerably goodgrass; and I judged we should succeed in getting the camp down by way ofthese. 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 wildanimals, which had been attracted by our fire, and a flock of geese passedover during the night. Even these strange sounds had something pleasant toour senses in this region of silence and desolation. 

We started again early in the morning. The creek acquired a regularbreadth of about 20 feet, and we soon began to hear the rushing of thewater below the icy surface, over which we traveled to avoid the snow; afew 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 milesfarther, 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 campat dark. Here we had the pleasure to find all the remaining animals, 57 innumber, safely arrived at the grassy hill near the camp; and here, also, we were agreeably surprised with the sight of an abundance of salt. Someof the horse-guard had gone to a neighboring hut for pine nuts, anddiscovered unexpectedly a large cake of very white fine-grained salt, which the Indians told them they had brought from the other side of themountain; they used it to eat with their pine nuts, and readily sold itfor goods. 

On the 19th, the people were occupied in making a road and bringing up thebaggage; and, on the afternoon of the next day, _February_ 20, 1844, we encamped, with the animals and all the _materiel_ of the camp, onthe summit of the PASS in the dividing ridge, 1, 000 miles by our traveledroad from the Dalles to the Columbia. 

The people, who had not yet been to this point, climbed the neighboringpeak 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, andseveral peaks in view rose several thousand feet still higher. Thus, atthe extremity of the continent, and near the coast, the phenomenon wasseen of a range of mountains still higher than the great Rocky mountainsthemselves. This extraordinary fact accounts for the Great Basin, andshows that there must be a system of small lakes and rivers here scatteredover a flat country, and which the extended and lofty range of the SierraNevada prevents from escaping to the Pacific ocean. Latitude 38° 44';longitude 120° 28'. 

Thus the Pass in the Sierra Nevada, which so well deserves its name ofSnowy mountain, is eleven degrees west and about four degrees south of theSouth Pass. 

21st. --We now considered ourselves victorious over the mountain; havingonly the descent before us, and the valley under our eyes, we felt stronghope that we should force our way down. But this was a case in which thedescent 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 morningwith an early fire, and we were all up long before day, in order to passthe snow-fields before the sun should render the crust soft. We enjoyedthis morning a scene at sunrise, which even here was unusually gloriousand beautiful. Immediately above the eastern mountains was repeated acloud-formed mass of purple ranges, bordered with bright yellow gold; thepeaks shot up into a narrow line of crimson cloud, above which the air wasfilled with a greenish orange; and over all was the singular beauty of theblue sky. Passing along a ridge which commanded the lake on our right, ofwhich we began to discover an outlet through a chasm on the west, wepassed over alternating open ground and hard-crusted snow-fields whichsupported the animals, and encamped on the ridge, after a journey of sixmiles. The grass was better than we had yet seen, and we were encamped ina clump of trees 20 or 30 feet high, resembling white pine. With theexception of these small clumps, the ridges were bare; and, where the snowfound the support of the trees, the wind had blown it up into banks 10 or15 feet high. It required much care to hunt out a practicable way, as themost open places frequently led to impassable banks. 

We had hard and doubtful labor yet before us, as the snow appeared to beheavier where the timber began further down, with few open spots. Ascending a height, we traced out the best line we could discover for thenext day's march, and had at least the consolation to see that themountain descended rapidly. The day had been one of April--gusty, with afew occasional flakes of snow--which, in the afternoon, enveloped theupper mountain in clouds. We watched them anxiously, as now we dreaded asnow-storm. Shortly afterwards we heard the roll of thunder, and, lookingtowards the valley, found it enveloped in a thunder-storm. For us, asconnected with the idea of summer, it had a singular charm, and we watchedits progress with excited feelings until nearly sunset, when the skycleared off brightly, and we saw a shining line of water directing itscourse towards another, a broader and larger sheet. We knew that thesecould be no other than the Sacramento and the Bay of San Francisco; but, after our long wandering in rugged mountains, where so frequently we hadmet with disappointments, and where the crossing of every ridge displayedsome unknown lake or river, we were yet almost afraid to believe that wewere at last to escape into the genial country of which we had heard somany glowing descriptions, and dreaded to find some vast interior lake, whose bitter waters would bring us disappointment. On the southern shoreof what appeared to be the bay could be traced the gleaming line whereentered another large stream; and again the Buenaventura rose up in ourminds. 

Carson had entered the valley along the southern side of the bay, andremembered perfectly to have crossed the mouth of a very large stream, which they had been obliged to raft; but the country then was so entirelycovered with water from snow and rain, that he had been able to form nocorrect 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 answerto ours; and these signs of life renewed, in some measure, the gayety ofthe camp. They appeared so near, that we judged them to be among thetimber of some of the neighboring ridges; but, having them constantly inview day after day, and night after night, we afterwards found them to befires that had been kindled by the Indians among the _tulares_, onthe 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 thecoolness of the early morning to get over the snow, which to-day occurredin very deep banks among the timber; but we searched out the coldestplaces, and the animals passed successfully with their loads over the hardcrust. Now and then the delay of making a road occasioned much labor andloss of time. In the after part of the day, we saw before us a handsomegrassy ridge point; and, making a desperate push over a snow-field 10 to15 feet deep, we happily succeeded in getting the camp across, andencamped on the ridge, after a march of three miles. We had again theprospect 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 betweentwo ranges on the right; and with this, the creek on which I had encampedprobably effected a junction below. Between these, we were descending. 

We continued to enjoy the same delightful weather; the sky of the samebeautiful blue, and such a sunset and sunrise as on our Atlantic coast wecould scarcely imagine. And here among the mountains, 9, 000 feet above thesea, 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 bythe quantity of snow among the timber, and obliged to take to the mountainsides, where occasionally rocks and a southern exposure afforded us achance to scramble along. But these were steep, and slippery with snow andice; and the tough evergreens of the mountain impeded our way, tore ourskins, and exhausted our patience. Some of us had the misfortune to wearmoccasins with _parflèche_ soles, so slippery that we could not keepour feet, and generally crawled across the snow-beds. Axes and mauls werenecessary to-day, to make a road through the snow. Going ahead with Carsonto reconnoitre the road, we reached in the afternoon the river which madethe outlet of the lake. Carson sprang over, clear across a place where thestream was compressed among rocks, but the _parflèche_ sole of mymoccasin glanced from the icy rock, and precipitated me into the river. Itwas some few seconds before I could recover myself in the current, andCarson, 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, butthe cold drove us out; and making a large fire on the bank, after we hadpartially dried ourselves we went back to meet the camp. We afterwardsfound that the gun had been slung under the ice which lined the banks ofthe creek. 

Using our old plan of breaking roads with alternate horses, we reached thecreek 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 fromthis point the mountain wall, on which we had traveled to-day, faces tothe south along the right bank of the river, where the sun appears to havemelted the snow; but the opposite ridge is entirely covered. Here, amongthe pines, the hill-side produces but little grass--barely sufficient tokeep life in the animals. We had the pleasure to be rained upon thisafternoon; and grass was now our greatest solicitude. Many of the menlooked 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° 46' 58"; long. 120° 34' 20". Thesky was clear and pure, with a sharp wind from the northeast, and thethermometer 2° below the freezing point. 

We continued down the south face of the mountain; our road leading overdry ground, we were able to avoid the snow almost entirely. In the courseof the morning, we struck a footpath, which we were generally able tokeep; and the ground was soft to our animals' feet, being sandy, orcovered with mould. Green grass began to make its appearance, andoccasionally we passed a hill scatteringly covered with it. The characterof the forest continued the same; and, among the trees, the pine withsharp leaves and very large cones was abundant, some of them being nobletrees. We measured one that had 10 feet diameter, though the height wasnot more than 130 feet. All along, the river was a roaring torrent, itsfall very great; and, descending with a rapidity to which we had long beenstrangers, to our great pleasure oak-trees appeared on the ridge, and soonbecame very frequent; on these I remarked great quantities of mistletoe. Rushes began to make their appearance; and at a small creek where theywere abundant, one of the messes was left with the weakest horses, whilewe continued on. 

The opposite mountain-side was very steep and continuous--unbroken byravines, and covered with pines and snow; while on the side we weretraveling, innumerable rivulets poured down from the ridge. Continuing on, we halted a moment at one of these rivulets, to admire some beautifulevergreen-trees, resembling live-oak, which shaded the little stream. Theywere forty to fifty feet high, and two in diameter, with a uniform tuftedtop; and the summer green of their beautiful foliage, with the singingbirds, and the sweet summer wind which was whirling about the dry oakleaves, nearly intoxicated us with delight; and we hurried on, filled withexcitement, to escape entirely from the horrid region of inhospitablesnow, to the perpetual spring of the Sacramento. 

When we had traveled about ten miles, the valley opened a little to an oakand pine bottom, through which ran rivulets closely bordered with rushes, on which our half-starved horses fell with avidity; and here we made ourencampment. Here the roaring torrent has already become a river, and wehad descended to an elevation of 3, 864 feet. 

Along our road to-day the rock was a white granite, which appears toconstitute the upper part of the mountains on both the eastern and westernslopes; 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, andleaving Mr. Fitzpatrick to follow slowly, as the condition of the animalsrequired, I started ahead this morning with a party of eight, consistingof myself, Mr. Preuss and Mr. Talbot, Carson, Derosier, Towns, Proue, andJacob. We took with us some of the best animals, and my intention was toproceed as rapidly as possible to the house of Mr. Sutter, and return tomeet the party with a supply of provisions and fresh animals. 

Continuing down the river, which pursued a very direct westerly coursethrough a narrow valley, with only a very slight and narrow bottom-land, we made twelve miles, and encamped at some old Indian huts, apparently afishing-place on the river. The bottom was covered with trees of deciduousfoliage, and overgrown with vines and rushes. On a bench of the hill nearby, was a hill of fresh green grass, six inches long in some of the tuftswhich I had the curiosity to measure. The animals were driven here; and Ispent part of the afternoon sitting on a large rock among them, enjoyingthe pauseless rapidity with which they luxuriated on the unaccustomedfood. 

The forest was imposing to-day in the magnificence of the trees; some ofthe pines, bearing large cones, were 10 feet in diameter. Cedars alsoabounded, and we measured one 281/2 feet in circumference, four feet fromthe ground. This noble tree seemed here to be in its proper soil andclimate. We found it on both sides of the Sierra, but most abundant on thewest. 

26th. --We continued to follow the stream, the mountains on either handincreasing in height as we descended, and shutting up the river narrowlyin precipices, along which we had great difficulty to get our horses. 

It rained heavily during the afternoon, and we were forced off the riverto the heights above; whence we descended, at night-fall, the point of aspur between the river and a fork of nearly equal size, coming in from theright. Here we saw, on the lower hills, the first flowers in bloom, whichoccurred suddenly, and in considerable quantity--one of them a species of_gilia_. 

The current in both streams (rather torrents than rivers) was broken bylarge boulders. It was late, and the animals fatigued; and not succeedingto find a ford immediately, we encamped, although the hill-side affordedbut a few stray bunches of grass, and the horses, standing about in therain, looked very miserable. 

27th. --We succeeded in fording the stream, and made a trail by which wecrossed the point of the opposite hill, which, on the southern exposure, was prettily covered with green grass, and we halted a mile from our lastencampment. The river was only about 60 feet wide, but rapid, andoccasionally deep, foaming among boulders, and the water beautifullyclear. We encamped on the hill-slope, as there was no bottom level, andthe opposite ridge is continuous, affording no streams. 

We had with us a large kettle; and a mule being killed here, his head wasboiled in it for several hours, and made a passable soup for famishedpeople. 

Below, precipices on the river forced us to the heights, which we ascendedby a steep spur 2, 000 feet high. My favorite horse, Proveau, had becomevery weak, and was scarcely able to bring himself to the top. Travelinghere 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 Ileft 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 dayadvanced and no grass appeared, for the lives of our animals depended onfinding it to-night. They were in just such a condition that grass andrepose for the night enabled them to get on the next day. Every hour wehad been expecting to see open out before us the valley, which, from themountain above, seemed almost at our feet. A new and singular shrub, whichhad made its appearance since crossing the mountain, was very frequent to-day. It branched out near the ground, forming a clump eight to ten feethigh, with pale-green leaves, of an oval form; and the body and brancheshad a naked appearance, as if stripped of the bark, which is very smoothand thin, of a chocolate color, contrasting well with the pale green ofthe leaves. The day was nearly gone; we had made a hard day's march, andfound no grass. Towns became light-headed, wandering off into the woodswithout knowing where he was going, and Jacob brought him back. 

Near night-fall we descended into the steep ravine of a handsome creek 30feet 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-sidesprinkled with grass enough for the night. " We drove along our horses, andencamped at the place about dark, and there was just room enough to make aplace for shelter on the edge of the stream. Three horses were lost to-day--Proveau; a fine young horse from the Columbia, belonging to CharlesTowns; and another Indian horse, which carried our cooking utensils. Thetwo former gave out, and the latter strayed off into the woods as wereached the camp. 

29th. --We lay shut up in the narrow ravine, and gave the animals anecessary day; and men were sent back after the others. Derosiervolunteered 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 climbedone of the nearest mountains; the forest land still extended ahead, andthe valley appeared as far as ever. The pack-horse was found near thecamp; 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 manysmall streams, and camped again on the river, having made six miles. Herewe 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 beautifulspecimens of the chocolate-colored shrub, which were a foot in diameternear the ground, and fifteen to twenty feet high. The opposite ridge runscontinuously along, unbroken by streams. We are rapidly descending intothe spring, and we are leaving our snowy region far behind; every thing isgetting green; butterflies are swarming; numerous bugs are creeping out, wakened from their winter's sleep; and the forest flowers are coming intobloom. Among those which appeared most numerously to-day was_dodecatheon dentatum_. 

We began to be uneasy at Derosier's absence, fearing he might have beenbewildered in the woods. Charles Towns, who had not yet recovered hismind, went to swim in the river, as if it were summer, and the streamplacid, when it was a cold mountain torrent foaming among the rocks. Wewere happy to see Derosier appear in the evening. He came in, and, sittingdown by the fire, began to tell us where he had been. He imagined he hadbeen gone several days, and thought we were still at the camp where he hadleft us; and we were pained to see that his mind was deranged. It appearedthat he had been lost in the mountain, and hunger and fatigue, joined toweakness of body and fear of perishing in the mountains, had crazed him. The times were severe when stout men lost their minds from extremity ofsuffering--when horses died--and when mules and horses, ready to die ofstarvation, were killed for food. Yet there was no murmuring orhesitation. 

A short distance below our encampment the river mountains terminated inprecipices, and, after a fatiguing march of only a few miles, we encampedon a bench where there were springs, and an abundance of the freshestgrass. 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 nightarrived, and he did not come in, we began to understand what had happenedto him; but it was too late to make any search. 

3d. --We followed Mr. Preuss' trail for a considerable distance along theriver, until we reached a place where he had descended to the stream belowand encamped. Here we shouted and fired guns, but received no answer; andwe concluded that he had pushed on down the stream. I determined to keepout from the river, along which it was nearly impracticable to travel withanimals, until it should form a valley. At every step the country improvedin beauty; the pines were rapidly disappearing, and oaks became theprincipal trees of the forest. Among these, the prevailing tree was theevergreen oak, (which, by way of distinction, we call the _live-oak_;) and with these occurred frequently a new species of oak bearinga long slender acorn, from an inch to an inch and a half in length, whichwe now began to see formed the principal vegetable food of the inhabitantsof this region. In a short distance we crossed a little rivulet, wherewere two old huts, and near by were heaps of acorn hulls. The ground roundabout was very rich, covered with an exuberant sward of grass; and we satdown for a while in the shade of the oaks, to let the animals feed. Werepeated our shouts for Mr. Preuss; and this time were gratified with ananswer. The voice grew rapidly nearer, ascending from the river; but whenwe expected to see him emerge, it ceased entirely. We had called up somestraggling Indian--the first we had met, although for two days back we hadseen tracks--who, mistaking us for his fellows, had been only undeceivedon getting close up. It would have been pleasant to witness hisastonishment; he would not have been more frightened had some of the oldmountain spirits they are so much afraid of suddenly appeared in his path. Ignorant of the character of these people, we had now an additional causeof uneasiness in regard to Mr. Preuss; he had no arms with him, and webegan to think his chance doubtful. We followed on a trail, still keepingout from the river, and descended to a very large creek, dashing withgreat velocity over a pre-eminently rocky bed, and among large boulders. The bed had sudden breaks, formed by deep holes and ledges of rock runningacross. Even here, it deserves the name of _Rock_ creek, which wegave to it. We succeeded in fording it, and toiled about three thousandfeet up the opposite hill. The mountains now were getting sensibly lower;but still there is no valley on the river, which presents steep and rockybanks; but here, several miles from the river, the country is smooth andgrassy; the forest has no undergrowth; and in the open valleys ofrivulets, or around spring-heads, the low groves of live-oak give theappearance of orchards in an old cultivated country. Occasionally we metdeer, 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 mantook his way along a spur leading into the river, in hope to cross histrail; and another took our own back. Both were volunteers; and to thesuccessful man was promised a pair of pistols--not as a reward, but as atoken of gratitude for a service which would free us all from muchanxiety. 

We had among our few animals a horse which was so much reduced, that, withtraveling, even the good grass could nor save him; and, having nothing toeat, he was killed this afternoon. He was a good animal, and had made thejourney 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 ahard push down the river the next morning and get ahead of him. 

4th. --We continued rapidly along on a broad plainly-beaten trail, the meretraveling and breathing the delightful air being a positive enjoyment. Ourroad led along a ridge inclining to the river, and the air and the opengrounds were fragrant with flowering shrubs; and in the course of themorning we issued on an open spur, by which we descended directly to thestream. Here the river issues suddenly from the mountains, which hithertohad hemmed it closely in; these now become softer, and change sensiblytheir character; and at this point commences the most beautiful valley inwhich we had ever traveled. We hurried to the river, on which we noticed asmall sand beach, to which Mr. Preuss would naturally have gone. We foundno trace of him, but, instead, were recent tracks of bare-footed Indians, and little piles of muscle-shells, and old fires where they had roastedthe 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 milesbeyond, always under the shade of the evergreen oaks, which formed opengroves on the bottoms. 

Continuing our road in the afternoon, we ascended to the uplands, wherethe river passes round a point of great beauty, and goes through veryremarkable 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 thepeople had evidently just run off. The huts were low and slight, made likebeehives 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 verylarge hogshead. Each of these contained from six to nine bushels. Thesewere filled with the long acorns already mentioned, and in the huts wereseveral neatly-made baskets, containing quantities of the acorns roasted. They were sweet and agreeably flavored, and we supplied ourselves withabout half a bushel, leaving one of our shirts, a handkerchief, and somesmaller articles, in exchange. The river again entered for a space amongthe hills, and we followed a trail leading across a bend through ahandsome hollow behind. Here, while engaged in trying to circumvent adeer, we discovered some Indians on a hill several hundred yards ahead, and gave them a shout, to which they responded by loud and rapid talkingand vehement gesticulation, but made no stop, hurrying up the mountain asfast as their legs could carry them. We passed on, and again encamped in agrassy 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 searchalong the river, traveling upward for the space of a day and a half, atwhich time I expected he would meet Mr. Fitzpatrick, whom I requested toaid in the search; at all events, he was to go no farther, but return tothis camp, where a _cache_ of provisions was made for him. 

Continuing the next day down the river, we discovered three squaws in alittle bottom, and surrounded them before they could make their escape. They had large conical baskets, which they were engaged in filling with asmall leafy plant (_erodium cicutarium_) just now beginning to bloom, and covering the ground like a sward of grass. These did not make anylamentations, but appeared very much impressed with our appearance, speaking to us only in a whisper, and offering us smaller baskets of theplant, which they signified to us was good to eat, making signs also thatit was to be cooked by the fire. We drew out a little cold horse-meat, andthe squaws made signs to us that the men had gone out after deer, and thatwe could have some by waiting till they came in. We observed that thehorses ate with great avidity the herb which they had been gathering; andhere also, for the first time, we saw Indians eat the common grass--one ofthe squaws pulling several tufts, and eating it with apparent relish. Seeing our surprise, she pointed to the horses; but we could not wellunderstand what she meant, except, perhaps, that what was good for the onewas good for the other. 

We encamped in the evening on the shore of the river, at a place where theassociated beauties of scenery made so strong an impression on us that wegave it the name of the Beautiful Camp. The undulating river shore wasshaded with the live-oaks, which formed a continuous grove over thecountry, and the same grassy sward extended to the edge of the water, andwe made our fires near some large granite masses which were lying amongthe 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. Likeourselves, he had traveled to-day 25 miles, but had seen nothing ofDerosier. Knowing, on the day he was lost, that I was determined to keepthe river as much as possible, he had not thought it necessary to followthe trail very closely, but walked on, right and left, certain to find itsomewhere along the river, searching places to obtain good views of thecountry. Towards sunset he climbed down towards the river to look for thecamp; but, finding no trail, concluded that we were behind, and walkedback till night came on, when, being very much fatigued, he collecteddrift-wood and made a large fire among the rocks. The next day it becamemore serious and he encamped again alone, thinking that we must have takensome other course. To go back would have been madness in his weak andstarved condition, and onward towards the valley was his only hope, alwaysin expectation of reaching it soon. His principal means of subsistencewere a few roots, which the hunters call sweet onions, having very littletaste, 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 hishand, and stripped them off in his mouth; these had an agreeable acidtaste. One of his greatest privations was the want of tobacco; and apleasant smoke at evening would have been a relief which only a voyageurcould appreciate. He tried the dried leaves of the live-oak, knowing thatthose of other oaks were sometimes used as a substitute; but these weretoo 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 thehills. In little pools he caught some of the smallest kind of frogs, whichhe swallowed, not so much in the gratification of hunger, as in the hopeof obtaining some strength. Scattered along the river were old fire-places, where the Indians had roasted muscles and acorns; but though hesearched diligently, he did not there succeed in finding either. He hadcollected firewood for the night, when he heard, at some distance from theriver, the barking of what he thought were two dogs, and walked in thatdirection 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 theforest was doubled. 

Traveling the next day feebly down the river, he found five or six Indiansat 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, butreceived him kindly, and gave him a welcome supply of roasted acorns. Hegave them his pocket-knife in return, and stretched out his hand to one ofthe 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 ofhim, not certain as to what he was. 

Traveling on, he came to the place where we had found the squaws. Here hefound our fire still burning, and the tracks of the horses. The sight gavehim sudden hope and courage; and, following as fast as he could, joined usat evening. 

6th. --We continued on our road through the same surpassingly beautifulcountry, entirely unequalled for the pasturage of stock by any thing wehad ever seen. Our horses had now become so strong that they were able tocarry us, and we traveled rapidly--over four miles an hour; four of usriding every alternate hour. Every few hundred yards we came upon a littleband of deer; but we were too eager to reach the settlement, which wemomentarily expected to discover, to halt for any other than a passingshot. In a few hours we reached a large fork, the northern branch of theriver, and equal in size to that which we had descended. Together theyformed a beautiful stream, 60 to 100 yards wide; which at first, ignorantof the nature of the country through which that river ran, we took to bethe Sacramento. 

We continued down the right bank of the river, traveling for a while overa wooded upland, where we had the delight to discover tracks of cattle. Tothe southwest was visible a black column of smoke, which we had frequentlynoticed in descending, arising from the fires we had seen from the top ofthe 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 alarge tufted top, and three to six feet in diameter. Among these was nobrushwood; and the grassy surface gave to it the appearance of parks in anold-settled country. Following the tracks of the horses and cattle, insearch of people, we discovered a small village of Indians. Some of thesehad on shirts of civilized manufacture, but were otherwise naked, and wecould understand nothing from them: they appeared entirely astonished atseeing us. 

We made an acorn meal at noon, and hurried on; the valley being gay withflowers, and some of the banks being absolutely golden with theCalifornian poppy, (_eschescholtzia crocea_. ) Here the grass wassmooth and green, and the groves very open; the large oaks throwing abroad shade among sunny spots. Shortly afterwards we gave a shout at theappearance, on a little bluff, of a neatly-built _adobe_ house, withglass windows. We rode up, but, to our disappointment, found only Indians. There was no appearance of cultivation, and we could see no cattle; and wesupposed the place had been abandoned. We now pressed on more eagerly thanever: the river swept round a large bend to the right; the hills lowereddown entirely; and, gradually entering a broad valley, we cameunexpectedly into a large Indian village, where the people looked clean, and wore cotton shirts and various other articles of dress. Theyimmediately crowded around us, and we had the inexpressible delight tofind one who spoke a little indifferent Spanish, but who at firstconfounded us by saying there were no whites in the country; but just thena well-dressed Indian came up, and made his salutations in very well-spoken Spanish. In answer to our inquiries, he informed us that we wereupon the _Rio de los Americanos_, (the river of the Americans, ) andthat it joined the Sacramento river about ten miles below. Never did aname sound more sweetly! We felt ourselves among our countrymen; for thename of _American_, in these distant parts, is applied to thecitizens of the United States. To our eager inquiries he answered, "I am a_vaquero_ (cowherd) in the service of Capt. Sutter, and the people ofthis _rancheria_ work for him. " Our evident satisfaction made himcommunicative; and he went on to say that Capt. Sutter was a very richman, 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 wewould wait a moment, to take his horse and conduct us to it. We readilyaccepted this civil offer. In a short distance we came in sight of thefort; 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, ashort distance from the fort, by Capt. Sutter himself. He gave us a mostfrank and cordial reception--conducted us immediately to his residence--and under his hospitable roof we had a night of rest, enjoyment, andrefreshment, which none but ourselves could appreciate. But the party leftin the mountains, with Mr. Fitzpatrick, were to be attended to; and thenext morning, supplied with fresh horses and provisions, I hurried off tomeet them. On the second day we met, a few miles below the forks of theRio de los Americanos; and a more forlorn and pitiable sight than theypresented, cannot well be imagined. They were all on foot--each man, weakand emaciated, leading a horse or mule as weak and emaciated asthemselves. They had experienced great difficulty in descending themountains, made slippery by rains and melting snows, and many horses fellover precipices, and were killed; and with some were lost the _packs_they carried. Among these, was a mule with the plants which we hadcollected 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 conditionto be led along. Mr. Fitzpatrick and his party, traveling more slowly, hadbeen able to make some little exertion at hunting, and had killed a fewdeer. The scanty supply was a great relief to them; for several had beenmade sick by the strange and unwholesome food which the preservation oflife compelled them to use. We stopped and encamped as soon as we met; anda repast of good beef, excellent bread, and delicious salmon, which I hadbrought along, was their first relief from the sufferings of the Sierra, and their first introduction to the luxuries of the Sacramento. Itrequired all our philosophy and forbearance to prevent _plenty_ frombecoming 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 thebeautiful valley of the Sacramento. It was a convenient place for thecamp; and, among other things, was within reach of the wood necessary tomake the pack-saddles, which we should need on our long journey home, fromwhich we were farther distant now than we were four months before, whenfrom the Dalles of the Columbia we so cheerfully took up the homeward lineof march. 

Captain Sutter emigrated to this country from the western part of Missouriin 1838-39, and formed the first settlement in the valley, on a largegrant of land which he obtained from the Mexican Government. He had, atfirst, some trouble with the Indians; but, by the occasional exercise ofwell-timed authority, he has succeeded in converting them into a peaceableand industrious people. The ditches around his extensive wheat-fields; themaking of the sun-dried bricks, of which his fort is constructed; theploughing, harrowing, and other agricultural operations, are entirely thework of these Indians, for which they receive a very moderatecompensation--principally in shirts, blankets, and other articles ofclothing. In the same manner, on application to the chief of a village, hereadily obtains as many boys and girls as he has any use for. There wereat this time a number of girls at the fort, in training for a futurewoolen factory; but they were now all busily engaged in constantlywatering the gardens, which the unfavorable dryness of the season renderednecessary. The occasional dryness of some seasons, I understood to be theonly complaint of the settlers in this fertile valley, as it sometimesrenders the crops uncertain. Mr. Sutter was about making arrangements toirrigate his lands by means of the Rio de los Americanos. He had this yearsown, and altogether by Indian labor, three hundred fanegas of wheat. 

A few years since, the neighboring Russian establishment of Ross, beingabout to withdraw from the country, sold to him a large number of stock, with agricultural and other stores, with a number of pieces of artilleryand other munitions of war; for these, a regular yearly payment is made ingrain. 

The fort is a quadrangular _adobe_ structure, mounting twelve piecesof artillery, (two of them brass, ) and capable of admitting a garrison ofa 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 beexpected, the pieces are not in very good order. The whites in theemployment of Capt. Sutter, American, French, and German, amount, perhaps, to thirty men. The inner wall is formed into buildings, comprising thecommon quarters, with blacksmith and other workshops; the dwelling-house, with a large distillery-house, and other buildings, occupying more thecentre of the area. 

It is built upon a pond-like stream, at times a running creekcommunicating with the Rio de los Americanos, which enters the Sacramentoabout two miles below. The latter is here a noble river, about threehundred yards broad, deep and tranquil, with several fathoms of water inthe channel, and its banks continuously timbered. There were two vesselsbelonging to Capt. Sutter at anchor near the landing--one a large two-masted lighter, and the other a schooner, which was shortly to proceed ona voyage to Fort Vancouver for a cargo of goods. 

Since his arrival, several other persons, principally Americans, haveestablished themselves in the valley. Mr. Sinclair, from whom Iexperienced much kindness during my stay, is settled a few miles distant, on the Rio de los Americanos. Mr. Coudrois, a gentleman from Germany, hasestablished himself on Feather river, and is associated with Capt. Sutterin agricultural pursuits. Among other improvements, they are about tointroduce the cultivation of rape-seed, (_brassica rapus_, ) whichthere is every reason to believe is admirably adapted to the climate andsoil. The lowest average produce of wheat, as far as we can at presentknow, is thirty-five fanegas for one sown; but, as an instance of itsfertility, it may be mentioned that Señor Valejo obtained, on a piece ofground where sheep had been pastured, 800 fanegas for eight sown. Theproduce being different in various places, a very correct idea cannot beformed. 

An impetus was given to the active little population by our arrival, as wewere in want of every thing. Mules, horses, and cattle, were to becollected; the horse-mill was at work day and night, to make sufficientflour; the blacksmith's shop was put in requisition for horse-shoes andbridle-bits; and pack-saddles, ropes, and bridles, and all the otherlittle equipments of the camp, were again to be provided. 

The delay thus occasioned was one of repose and enjoyment, which oursituation required, and, anxious as we were to resume our homewardjourney, was regretted by no one. In the mean time, I had the pleasure tomeet with Mr. Chiles, who was residing at a farm on the other side of theriver Sacramento, while engaged in the selection of a place for asettlement, for which he had received the necessary grant of land from theMexican 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 aparty of ten or twelve men, with the intention of crossing theintermediate mountains to the waters of the Bay of San Francisco. In theexecution of this design, and aided by subsequent information, he left theColumbia at the mouth of _Malheur_ river, and, making his way to thehead-waters of the Sacramento with a part of his company, traveled downthat river to the settlements of Nueva Helvetia. The other party, to whomhe had committed his wagons, and mill-irons, and saws, took a coursefurther to the south, and the wagons and their contents were lost. 

On the 22d we made a preparatory move, and encamped near the settlement ofMr. Sinclair, on the left bank of the Rio de los Americanos. I haddischarged five of the party; Neal, the blacksmith, (an excellent workman, and an unmarried man, who had done his duty faithfully, and had been ofvery great service to me, ) desired to remain, as strong inducements wereoffered here to mechanics. 

Although at considerable inconvenience to myself, his good conduct inducedme to comply with his request; and I obtained for him from Capt. Sutter, apresent compensation of two dollars and a half per diem, with a promisethat it should be increased to five, if he proved as good a workman as hadbeen represented. He was more particularly an agricultural blacksmith. Theother men were discharged with their own consent. 

While we remained at this place, Derosier, one of our best men, whosesteady good conduct had won my regard, wandered off from the camp, andnever returned to it again, nor has he since been heard of. 

24th. --We resumed our journey with an ample stock of provisions and alarge cavalcade of animals, consisting of 130 horses and mules, and about30 head of cattle, five of which were milch-cows. Mr. Sutter furnished usalso with an Indian boy, who had been trained as a _vaquero_, and whowould be serviceable in managing our cavalcade, great part of which werenearly as wild as buffalo, and who was, besides, very anxious to go alongwith us. Our direct course home was east, but the Sierra would force ussouth, above 500 miles of traveling, to a pass at the head of the SanJoaquin river. This pass, reported to be good, was discovered by Mr. Joseph Walker, of whom I have already spoken, and whose name it mighttherefore appropriately bear. To reach it, our course lay along the valleyof the San Joaquin--the river on our right, and the lofty wall of theimpassable Sierra on the left. From that pass we were to movesoutheastwardly, having the Sierra then on the right, and reach the"_Spanish trail_, " deviously traced from one watering-place toanother, which constituted the route of the caravans from _Puebla de losAngelos_, near the coast of the Pacific, to _Santa Fé_ of NewMexico. From the pass to this trail was 150 miles. Following that trailthrough a desert, relieved by some fertile plains indicated by therecurrence of the term _vegas_, until it turned to the right to crossthe Colorado, our course would be northeast until we regained the latitudewe had lost in arriving at Eutah lake, and thence to the Rocky mountainsat the head of the Arkansas. This course of traveling, forced upon us bythe structure of the country, would occupy a computed distance of 2, 000miles before we reached the head of the Arkansas--not a settlement to beseen upon it--and the names of places along it, all being Spanish orIndian, indicated that it had been but little trod by _American_feet. Though long, and not free from hardships, this route presented somepoints of attraction, in tracing the Sierra Nevada--turning the GreatBasin, perhaps crossing its rim on the south--completely solving theproblem of any river, except the Colorado, from the Rocky mountains onthat part of our continent--and seeing the southern extremity of theGreat Salt lake, of which the northern part had been examined the yearbefore. 

Taking leave of Mr. Sutter, who, with several gentlemen, accompanied us afew miles on our way, we traveled about 18 miles, and encamped on the_Rio de los Cosumnes_, a stream receiving its name from the Indianswho live in its valley. Our road was through a level country, admirablysuited to cultivation, and covered with groves of oak-trees, principallythe evergreen-oak, and a large oak already mentioned, in form like thoseof the white-oak. The weather, which here, at this season, can easily bechanged from the summer heat of the valley to the frosty mornings andbright days nearer the mountains, continued delightful for travelers, butunfavorable to the agriculturists, whose crops of wheat began to wear ayellow tinge from want of rain. 

25th. --We traveled for 28 miles over the same delightful country asyesterday, and halted in a beautiful bottom at the ford of the _Rio delos Mukelemnes_, receiving its name from another Indian tribe living onthe river. The bottoms on the stream are broad, rich, and extremelyfertile, and the uplands are shaded with oak groves. A showy_lupinus_, of extraordinary beauty, growing four to five feet inheight, 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_, (Skullcreek, ) a tributary to the San Joaquin--the previous two streams enteringthe bay between the San Joaquin and Sacramento rivers. This place isbeautiful, with open groves of oak, and a grassy sward beneath, with manyplants in bloom, some varieties of which seem to love the shade of thetrees, and grow there in close small fields. Near the river, and replacingthe grass, are great quantities of _ammole_, (soap plant, ) the leavesof which are used in California for making, among other things, mats forsaddle-cloths. A vine with a small white flower, (_melothria?_)called here _la yerba buena_, and which, from its abundance, givesname to an island and town in the bay, was to-day very frequent on ourroad--sometimes running on the ground or climbing the trees. 

27th. --To-day we traveled steadily and rapidly up the valley; for, withour wild animals, any other gait was impossible, and making about fivemiles an hour. During the earlier part of the day, our ride had been overa 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 themelting snows. Over much of this extent, the vegetation was sparse; thesurface showing plainly the action of water, which, in the season offlood, the Joaquin spreads over the valley. About one o'clock we cameagain among innumerable flowers; and a few miles further, fields of thebeautiful blue-flowering _lupine_, which seems to love theneighborhood of water, indicated that we were approaching a stream. Wehere found this beautiful shrub in thickets, some of them being 12 feet inheight. Occasionally three or four plants were clustered together, forminga grand bouquet, about 90 feet in circumference, and 10 feet high; thewhole summit covered with spikes of flowers, the perfume of which is verysweet and grateful. A lover of natural beauty can imagine with whatpleasure we rode among these flowering groves, which filled the air with alight and delicate fragrance. We continued our road for about a half amile, 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 morethan a half sphere of very full and regular figure, with leaves apparentlysmaller than usual. 

The Californian poppy, of a rich orange color, was numerous to-day. Elkand several bands of antelope made their appearance. 

Our road was now one continued enjoyment; and it was pleasant riding amongthis assemblage of green pastures with varied flowers and scatteredgroves, and out of the warm green spring to look at the rocky and snowypeaks where lately we had suffered so much. Emerging from the timber, wecame suddenly upon the Stanislaus river, where we hoped to find a ford, but the stream was flowing by, dark and deep, swollen by the mountainsnows; its general breadth was about 50 yards. 

We traveled about five miles up the river, and encamped without being ableto find a ford. Here we made a large _coral_, in order to be able tocatch a sufficient number of our wild animals to relieve those previouslypacked. 

Under the shade of the oaks, along the river, I noticed _erodiumcicutarium_ in bloom, eight or ten inches high. This is the plant whichwe had seen the squaws gathering on the Rio de los Americanos. By theinhabitants of the valley it is highly esteemed for fattening cattle, which appear to be very fond of it. Here, where the soil begins to besandy, it supplies to a considerable extent the want of grass. 

Desirous, as far as possible, without delay, to include in our examinationthe San Joaquin river, I returned this morning down the Stanislaus for 17miles, and again encamped without having found a fording-place. Afterfollowing it for eight miles further the next morning, and findingourselves in the vicinity of the San Joaquin, encamped in a handsome oakgrove, and, several cattle being killed, we ferried over our baggage intheir skins. Here our Indian boy, who probably had not much idea of wherehe was going, and began to be alarmed at the many streams which we wererapidly putting between him and the village, deserted. 

Thirteen head of cattle took a sudden fright, while we were driving themacross the river, and galloped off. I remained a day in the endeavor torecover them; but, finding they had taken the trail back to the fort, letthem go without further effort. Here we had several days of warm andpleasant 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 countryhad lost its character of extreme fertility, the soil having become moresandy and light; but, for several days past, its beauty had been increasedby the additional animation of animal life; and now, it is crowded withbands of elk and wild horses; and along the rivers are frequent freshtracks of grizzly bear, which are unusually numerous in this country. 

Our route had been along the timber of the San Joaquin, generally abouteight miles distant, over a high prairie. 

In one of the bands of elk seen to-day, there were about 200; but thelarger bands, both of these and wild horses, are generally found on theother side of the river, which, for that reason, I avoided crossing. I hadbeen informed below, that the droves of wild horses were almost invariablyfound on the western bank of the river; and the danger of losing ouranimals among them, together with the wish of adding to our reconnoissancethe numerous streams which run down from the Sierra, decided me to travelup the eastern bank. 

2d. --The day was occupied in building a boat, and ferrying our baggageacross the river; and we encamped on the bank. A large fishing eagle wasslowly sailing along, looking after salmon; and there were some prettybirds in the timber, with partridges, ducks and geese innumerable in theneighborhood. We were struck with the tameness of the latter bird atHelvetia, scattered about in flocks near the wheat-fields, and eatinggrass on the prairie; a horseman would ride by within 30 yards, withoutdisturbing 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. Itresembled the Missouri in color, with occasional points of white sand; andits banks, where steep, were a kind of sandy clay; its average widthappeared 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 wereseen during the day, with antelope and wild horses. The low country andthe timber rendered it difficult to keep the main line of the river; andthis evening we encamped on a tributary stream, about five miles from itsmouth. On the prairie bordering the San Joaquin bottoms, there occurredduring the day but little grass, and in its place was a sparse and dwarfgrowth of plants; the soil being sandy, with small bare places andhillocks, reminded me much of the Platte bottoms; but, on approaching thetimber, we found a more luxuriant vegetation, and at our camp was anabundance of grass and pea-vines. 

The foliage of the oak is getting darker; and every thing, except that theweather 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 SanJoaquin. Elk were running in bands over the prairie and in the skirt ofthe timber. We reached the river at the mouth of a large slough, which wewere unable to ford, and made a circuit of several miles around. Here thecountry appears very flat; oak-trees have entirely disappeared, and arereplaced by a large willow, nearly equal to it in size. The river is abouta hundred yards in breadth, branching into sloughs, and interspersed withislands. At this time it appears sufficiently deep for a small steamer, but its navigation would be broken by shallows at low water. Bearing intowards the river, we were again forced off by another slough; and passingaround, steered towards a clump of trees on the river, and finding theregood grass, encamped. The prairies along the left bank are alive withimmense droves of wild horses; and they had been seen during the day atevery opening through the woods which afforded us a view across the river. Latitude, by observation, 37° 08' 00"; longitude 120° 45' 22". 

5th--During the earlier part of the day's ride, the country presented alacustrine appearance; the river was deep, and nearly on a level with thesurrounding country; its banks raised like a levee, and fringed withwillows. Over the bordering plain were interspersed spots of prairie amongfields of _tule_, (bulrushes, ) which in this country are called_tulares_, and little ponds. On the opposite side, a line of timberwas visible which, according to information, points out the course of theslough, 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 Tulelakes. The river and all its sloughs are very full, and it is probablethat the lake is now discharging. Here elk were frequently started, andone was shot out of a band which ran around us. On our left, the Sierramaintains its snowy height, and masses of snow appear to descend very lowtowards the plains; probably the late rains in the valley were snow on themountains. We traveled 37 miles, and encamped on the river. Longitude ofthe camp, 120° 28' 34", and latitude, 36° 49' 12". 

6th. --After having traveled fifteen miles along the river, we made anearly halt, under the shade of sycamore-trees. Here we found the SanJoaquin coming down from the Sierra with a westerly course, and checkingour way, as all its tributaries had previously done. We had expected toraft 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 thesouthward--probably kindled in the tulares by the Indians, as signals thatthere were strangers in the valley. 

We made, on the 7th, a hard march in a cold chilly rain from morning untilnight--the weather so thick that we traveled by compass. This was a_traverse_ from the San Joaquin to the waters of the Tule lakes, andour road was over a very level prairie country. We saw wolves frequentlyduring the day, prowling about after the young antelope, which cannot runvery fast. These were numerous during the day, and two were caught by thepeople. 

Late in the afternoon we discovered timber, which was found to be grovesof oak-trees on a dry _arroyo_. The rain, which had fallen infrequent 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 thetimber, about dark we found abundant water in small ponds, 20 to 30 yardsin diameter, with clear deep water and sandy beds, bordered with bogrushes, (_juncus effusus_, ) and a tall rush (_scirpuslacustris_) twelve feet high, and surrounded near the margin withwillow-trees in bloom; among them one which resembled _salixmyricoides_. The oak of the groves was the same already mentioned, withsmall leaves, in form like those of the white-oak, and forming, with theevergreen-oak, the characteristic trees of the valley. 

8th. --After a ride of two miles through brush and open groves, we reacheda large stream, called the River of the Lake, resembling in size the SanJoaquin, and being about 100 yards broad. This is the principal tributaryto the Tule lakes, which collect all the waters in the upper part of thevalley. While we were searching for a ford, some Indians appeared on theopposite 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 westof the Coast Range, which they keep constantly swept of horses; among themare many who are called Christian Indians, being refugees from Spanishmissions. Several of these incursions occurred while we were at Helvetia. Occasionally parties of soldiers follow them across the Coast Range, butnever enter the Sierra. 

On the opposite side we found some forty or fifty Indians, who had come tomeet us from the village below. We made them some small presents, andinvited them to our encampment, which, after about three miles throughfine oak groves, we made on the river. We made a fort, principally onaccount of our animals. The Indians brought otter-skins, and several kindsof fish, and bread made of acorns, to trade. Among them were several whohad come to live among these Indians when the missions were broken up, andwho spoke Spanish fluently. They informed us that they were called by theSpaniards _mansitos_, (tame, ) in distinction from the wilder tribesof the mountains. They, however, think themselves very insecure, notknowing at what unforeseen moment the sins of the latter may be visitedupon them. They are dark-skinned, but handsome and intelligent Indians, and live principally on acorns and the roots of the tule, of which alsotheir huts are made. 

By observation, the latitude of the encampment is 36° 24' 50", andlongitude 119° 41' 40". 

9th. --For several miles we had very bad traveling over what is calledrotten ground, in which the horses were frequently up to their knees. Making towards a line of timber, we found a small fordable stream, beyondwhich the country improved, and the grass became excellent; and crossing anumber of dry and timbered _arroyos_, we traveled until late throughopen oak groves, and encamped among a collection of streams. These wererunning among rushes and willows; and, as usual, flocks of blackbirdsannounced our approach to water. We have here approached considerablynearer to the eastern Sierra, which shows very plainly, still covered withmasses of snow, which yesterday and to-day has also appeared abundant onthe Coast Range. 

10th. --To-day we made another long journey of about forty miles, through acountry uninteresting and flat, with very little grass and a sandy soil, in which several branches we crossed had lost their water. In the eveningthe face of the country became hilly; and, turning a few miles up towardsthe mountains, we found a good encampment on a pretty stream hidden amongthe hills, and handsomely timbered, principally with large cottonwoods, (_populus_, differing from any in Michaux's Sylva. ) The seed-vesselsof this tree were now just about bursting. 

Several Indians came down the river to see us in the evening; we gave themsupper, and cautioned them against stealing our horses; which theypromised not to attempt. 

11th. --A broad trail along the river here takes out among the hills. "Buencamino, " (good road, ) said one of the Indians, of whom we had inquiredabout the pass; and, following it accordingly, it conducted us beautifullythrough a very broken country, by an excellent way, which, otherwise, weshould have found extremely bad. Taken separately, the hills presentsmooth 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 heightand beauty varied in a remarkable manner with the locality, being, in manylow places which we passed during the day, around streams and springs, twoand 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. Inoticed here in bloom, for the first time since leaving the Arkansaswaters, the _Miribilis Jalapa_. 

12th. --Along our road to-day the country was altogether sandy, andvegetation meager. _Ephedra occidentalis_, which we had first seen inthe neighborhood of the Pyramid lake, made its appearance here, and in thecourse of the day became very abundant, and in large bushes. Towards theclose of the afternoon, we reached a tolerably large river, which emptiesinto a small lake at the head of the valley; it is about thirty-five yardswide, with a stony and gravelly bed, and the swiftest stream we havecrossed since leaving the bay. The bottoms produced no grass, though welltimbered with willow and cottonwood; and, after ascending several miles, we made a late encampment on a little bottom, with scanty grass. Ingreater part, the vegetation along our road consisted now of rare andunusual 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 _Garryaelliptica_, (Lindley, ) a small tree belonging to a very peculiarnatural order, and, in its general appearance, (growing in thickets, )resembling willow. It now became common along the streams, frequentlysupplying the place of _salix longifolia_. 

13th. --The water was low, and a few miles above we forded the river at arapid, and marched in a southeasterly direction over a less brokencountry. The mountains were now very near, occasionally looming outthrough fog. In a few hours we reached the bottom of a creek withoutwater, over which the sandy beds were dispersed in many branches. Immediately where we struck it, the timber terminated; and below, to theright, it was a broad bed of dry and bare sands. There were many tracks ofIndians and horses imprinted in the sand, which, with other indications, informed us was the creek issuing from the pass, and which we have calledPass creek. We ascended a trail for a few miles along the creek, andsuddenly found a stream of water five feet wide, running with a livelycurrent, but losing itself almost immediately. This little stream showedplainly the manner in which the mountain waters lose themselves in sand atthe eastern foot of the Sierra, leaving only a parched desert and aridplains beyond. The stream enlarged rapidly, and the timber became abundantas we ascended. 

A new species of pine made its appearance, with several kinds of oaks, anda variety of trees; and the country changing its appearance suddenly andentirely, we found ourselves again traveling among the old orchard-likeplaces. Here we selected a delightful encampment in a handsome green oakhollow, where among the open bolls of the trees was an abundant sward ofgrass and pea-vines. In the evening a Christian Indian rode into the camp, well dressed, with long spurs, and a _sombreo_, and speaking Spanishfluently. It was an unexpected apparition, and a strange and pleasantsight in this desolate gorge of a mountain--an Indian face, Spanishcostume, jingling spurs, and horse equipped after the Spanish manner. Heinformed 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 priestsleave to spend a few days with his relations in the Sierra. Having seen usenter the pass, he had come down to visit us. He appeared familiarlyacquainted with the country, and gave me definite and clear information inregard to the desert region east of the mountains. I had entered the passwith a strong disposition to vary my route, and to travel directly acrosstowards the Great Salt lake, in the view of obtaining some acquaintancewith the interior of the Great Basin, while pursuing a direct course forthe frontier; but his representation, which described it as an arid andbarren desert, that had repulsed by its sterility all the attempts of theIndians to penetrate it, determined me for the present to relinquish theplan, and agreeably to his advice, after crossing the Sierra, continue ourintended 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 easternpart of the desert to trade with his people, had just started on theirreturn. He would himself return the next day to _San Fernando_, andas our roads would be the same for two days, he offered his services toconduct us so far on our way. His offer was gladly accepted. The fog whichhad somewhat interfered with views in the valley, had entirely passed off, and left a clear sky. That which had enveloped us in the neighborhood ofthe pass proceeded evidently from fires kindled among the tulares byIndians living near the lakes, and which were intended to warn those inthe mountains that there were strangers in the valley. Our position was inlatitude 35° 17' 12", and longitude 118° 35' 03". 

14th. --Our guide joined us this morning on the trail; and, arriving in ashort distance at an open bottom where the creek forked, we continued upthe right-hand branch, which was enriched by a profusion of flowers, andhandsomely wooded with sycamore, oaks, cottonwood, and willow, with othertrees, and some shrubby plants. In its long strings of balls, thissycamore differs from that of the United States, and is the _platanusoccidentalus_ of Hooker--a new species recently described among theplants collected in the voyage of the Sulphur. The cottonwood varied itsfoliage with white tufts, and the feathery seeds were flying plentifullythrough the air. Gooseberries, nearly ripe, were very abundant in themountains; and as we passed the dividing grounds, which were not very easyto ascertain, the air was filled with perfume, as if we were entering ahighly cultivated garden; and, instead of green, our pathway and themountain sides were covered with fields of yellow flowers, which here wasthe prevailing color. Our journey to-day was in the midst of an advancedspring, whose green and floral beauty offered a delightful contrast to thesandy valley we had just left. All the day, snow was in sight on the butteof the mountain, which frowned down upon us on the right; but we beheld itnow with feelings of pleasant security, as we rode along between greentrees, and on flowers, with hummingbirds and other feathered friends ofthe traveler enlivening the serene spring air. As we reached the summit ofthis beautiful pass, and obtained a view into the eastern country, we sawat once that here was the place to take leave of all such pleasant scenesas those around us. The distant mountains were now bald rocks again, andbelow the land had any color but green. Taking into consideration thenature of the Sierra Nevada, we found this pass an excellent one forhorses; and with a little labor, or perhaps with a more perfectexamination of the localities, it might be made sufficiently practicablefor wagons. Its latitude and longitude may be considered that of our lastencampment, only a few miles distant. The elevation was not taken--ourhalf-wild cavalcade making it troublesome to halt before night, when oncestarted. 

We here left the waters of the bay of San Francisco, and, though forcedupon them contrary to my intentions, I cannot regret the necessity whichoccasioned the deviation. It made me well acquainted with the great rangeof the Sierra Nevada of the Alta California, and showed that this broadand elevated snowy ridge was a continuation of the Cascade Range ofOregon, between which and the ocean there is still another and a lowerrange, parallel to the former and to the coast, and which may be calledthe Coast Range. It also made me well acquainted with the basin of the SanFrancisco bay, and with the two pretty rivers and their valleys (theSacramento and San Joaquin) which are tributary to that bay, and clearedup some points in geography on which error had long prevailed. It had beenconstantly represented, as I have already stated, that the bay of SanFrancisco opened far into the interior, by some river coming down from thebase of the Rocky mountains, and upon which supposed stream the name ofRio Buenaventura had been bestowed. Our observations of the Sierra Nevada, in the long distance from the head of the Sacramento, to the head of theSan Joaquin, and of the valley below it, which collects all the waters ofthe San Francisco bay, show that this neither is nor can be the case. Noriver from the interior does, or can, cross the Sierra Nevada--itself morelofty than the Rocky mountains; and as to the Buenaventura, the mouth ofwhich seen on the coast gave the idea and the name of the reputed greatriver, it is, in fact, a small stream of no consequence, not only belowthe Sierra Nevada, but actually below the Coast Range--taking its risewithin half a degree of the ocean, running parallel to it for about twodegrees, and then falling into the Pacific near Monterey. There is noopening from the bay of San Francisco into the interior of the continent. The two rivers which flow into it are comparatively short, and notperpendicular to the coast, but lateral to it, and having their headstowards Oregon and southern California. They open lines of communicationnorth and south, and not eastwardly; and thus this want of interiorcommunication from the San Francisco bay, now fully ascertained, givesgreat additional value to the Columbia, which stands alone as the onlygreat river on the Pacific slope of our continent which leads from theocean to the Rocky mountains, and opens a line of communication from thesea to the valley of the Mississippi. 

Four _companeros_ joined our guide at the pass; and two going back atnoon, the others continued on in company. Descending from the hills, wereached 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 grovesof large black-oak, we rode over a plain on which the guide pointed out aspot where a refugee Christian Indian had been killed by a party ofsoldiers which had unexpectedly penetrated into the mountains. Crossing alow sierra, and descending a hollow where a spring gushed out, we werestruck by the sudden appearance of _yucca_ trees, which gave astrange and southern character to the country, and suited well with thedry and desert region we were approaching. Associated with the idea ofbarren sands, their stiff and ungraceful form makes them to the travelerthe most repulsive tree in the vegetable kingdom. Following the hollow, weshortly came upon a creek timbered with large black-oak, which yet had notput forth a leaf. There was a small rivulet of running water, with goodgrass. 

15th. --The Indians who had accompanied the guide returned this morning, and I purchased from them a Spanish saddle and long spurs, asreminiscences of the time; and for a few yards of scarlet cloth they gaveme a horse, which afterwards became food for other Indians. 

We continued a short distance down the creek, in which our guide informedus that the water very soon disappeared, and turned directly to thesouthward along the foot of the mountain; the trail on which we rodeappearing to describe the eastern limit of travel, where water and grassterminated. Crossing a low spur, which bordered the creek, we descended toa kind of plain among the lower spurs, the desert being in full view onour left, apparently illimitable. A hot mist lay over it to-day, throughwhich 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 arethe great _llanos_, (plains, ) _no hay agua; no hay zacate--nada_: there is neither water nor grass--nothing; every animal thatgoes upon them, dies. " It was indeed dismal to look upon, and to conceiveso 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 hadleft in the San Joaquin: here within a few miles' ride, a vast desertplain spread before us, from which the boldest traveler turned away indespair. 

Directly in front of us, at some distance to the southward, and runningout in an easterly direction from the mountains, stretched a sierra, having at the eastern end (perhaps 50 miles distant) some snowy peaks, onwhich, by the information of our guide, snow rested all the year. 

Our cavalcade made a strange and grotesque appearance; and it wasimpossible to avoid reflecting upon our position and composition in thisremote solitude. Within two degrees of the Pacific ocean--already farsouth of the latitude of Monterey--and still forced on south by a deserton one hand, and a mountain range on the other--guided by a civilizedIndian, attended by two wild ones from the Sierra--a Chinook from theColumbia, and our mixture of American, French, German--all armed--four orfive languages heard at once--above a hundred horses and mules, half wild--American, Spanish, and Indian dresses and equipments intermingled--suchwas our composition. Our march was a sort of procession. Scouts ahead andon the flanks; a front and rear division; the pack-animals, baggage, andhorned-cattle in the centre; and the whole stretching a quarter of a milealong our dreary path. In this form we journeyed, looking more as if webelonged to Asia than to the United States of America. 

We continued in a southerly direction across the plain, to which, as wellas to all the country, so far as we could see, the _yucca_ trees gavea strange and singular character. Several new plants appeared, among whichwas a zygophyllaceous shrub, (_zygophyllum Californicum_, Torr. AndFrem. , ) sometimes ten feet in height; in form, and in the pliancy of itsbranches, it is rather a graceful plant. Its leaves are small, coveredwith a resinous substance; and, particularly when bruised and crushed, exhale a singular but very agreeable and refreshing odor. This shrub andthe _yucca_, with many varieties of cactus, make the characteristicfeatures in the vegetation for a long distance to the eastward. Along thefoot of the mountain, 20 miles to the southward, red stripes of flowerswere visible during the morning, which we supposed to be variegatedsandstones. We rode rapidly during the day, and in the afternoon emergedfrom the _yucca_ forest at the foot of an _outlier_ of theSierra before us, and came among the fields of flowers we had seen in themorning, which consisted principally of the rich orange-colored Californiapoppy, mingled with other flowers of brighter tints. Reaching the top ofthe spur, which was covered with fine bunch-grass, and where the hillswere very green, our guide pointed to a small hollow in the mountainbefore us, saying, "_a este piedra hay agua_. " He appeared to knowevery nook in the country. We continued our beautiful road, and reached aspring in the slope at the foot of the ridge, running in a green ravine, among granite boulders; here nightshade, and borders of buckwheat, withtheir white blossoms around the granite rocks, attracted our notice asfamiliar plants. Several antelopes were seen among the hills, and somelarge hares. Men were sent back this evening in search of a wild mule witha valuable pack, which had managed (as they frequently do) to hide itselfalong the road. 

By observation, the latitude of the camp is 34° 41' 42", and longitude118° 20' 00". The next day the men returned with the mule. 

17th. --Crossing the ridge by a beautiful pass of hollows, where severaldeer 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 missionof _San Buenaventura_ comes in. The lake is about 1, 200 yards indiameter; surrounded on the margin by a white salty border, which, by thesmell, 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 theeastward along the trail, which, from being seldom used, is almostimperceptible; 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_ onthe plain at the foot of the mountain, where we would find water to encampat night; and, giving him a present of knives and scarlet cloth, we shookhands and parted. He bore off south, and in a day's ride would arrive atSan Fernando, one of several missions in this part of California, wherethe country is so beautiful that it is considered a paradise, and the nameof its principal town (_Puebla de los Angeles_) would make itangelic. We continued on through a succession of valleys, and came into amost beautiful spot of flower fields; instead of green, the hills werepurple and orange, with unbroken beds, into which each color wasseparately gathered. A pale straw-color, with a bright yellow, the richred orange of the poppy mingled with fields of purple, covered the spotwith a floral beauty; and, on the border of the sandy deserts, seemed toinvite the traveler to go no farther. Riding along through the perfumedair, we soon after entered a defile overgrown with the ominous_artemisia tridentata_, which conducted us into a sandy plain coveredmore or less densely with forests of _yucca_. 

Having now the snowy ridge on our right, we continued our way towards adark _butte_, belonging to a low sierra on the plain, and which ourguide had pointed out for a landmark. Late in the day, the familiar growthof cottonwood, a line of which was visible ahead, indicated our approachto a creek, which we reached where the water spread out into sands, and alittle below sank entirely. Here our guide had intended we should pass thenight; but there was not a blade of grass, and, hoping to find nearer themountain a little for the night, we turned up the stream. A hundred yardsabove, we found the creek a fine stream, sixteen feet wide, with a swiftcurrent. A dark night overtook us when we reached the hills at the foot ofthe ridge, and we were obliged to encamp without grass; tying up whatanimals we could secure in the darkness, the greater part of the wild oneshaving free range for the night. Here the stream was two feet deep, swiftand clear, issuing from a neighboring snow peak. A few miles beforereaching this creek, we had crossed a broad dry riverbed, which, nearerthe hills, the hunters had found a bold and handsome stream. 

18th. --Some parties were engaged in hunting up the scattered horses, andothers in searching for grass above; both were successful, and late in theday we encamped among some spring-heads of the river, in a hollow whichwas covered with only tolerably good grasses, the lower ground beingentirely overgrown with large bunches of the coarse stiff grass, (_carexsitchensis_. )

Our latitude, by observation, was 34° 27' 03", and longitude 117° 13' 00". 

Traveling close along the mountain, we followed up, in the afternoon ofthe 19th, another stream, in hopes to find a grass-patch like that of theprevious day, but were deceived; except some scattered bunch-grass, therewas nothing but rock and sand; and even the fertility of the mountainseemed withered by the air of the desert. Among the few trees was the nutpine, (_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 treesand shrubs; and, after a difficult march of eighteen miles, a generalshout announced that we had struck the great object of our search--THESPANISH TRAIL--which here was running directly north. The road itself, and its course, were equally happy discoveries to us. Since the middle ofDecember we had continually been forced south by mountains and by deserts, and now would have to make six degrees of _northing_, to regain thelatitude on which we wished to cross the Rocky mountains. The course ofthe road, therefore, was what we wanted; and, once more, we felt likegoing homewards. A _road_ to travel on, and the _right_ courseto go, were joyful consolations to us; and our animals enjoyed the beatentrack like ourselves. Relieved from the rocks and brush, our wild mulesstarted off at a rapid rate, and in fifteen miles we reached aconsiderable river, timbered with cottonwood and willow, where we found abottom of tolerable grass. As the animals had suffered a great deal in thelast few days, I remained here all next day, to allow them the necessaryrepose; and it was now necessary, at every favorable place, to make alittle halt. Between us and the Colorado river we were aware that thecountry was extremely poor in grass, and scarce for water, there beingmany _jornadas_, (days' journey, ) or long stretches of forty to sixtymiles, without water, where the road was marked by bones of animals. 

Although in California we had met with people who had passed over thistrail, we had been able to obtain no correct information about it; and thegreater part of what we had heard was found to be only a tissue offalsehoods. The rivers that we found on it were never mentioned, andothers, particularly described in name and locality, were subsequentlyseen in another part of the country. It was described as a tolerably goodsandy road, with so little rock as scarcely to require the animals to beshod; and we found it the roughest and rockiest road we had ever seen inthe 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 animalswell shod, and also carrying extra shoes. 

Latitude 34° 34' 11"; and longitude 117° 13' 00". 

The morning of the 22d was clear and bright, and a snowy peak to thesouthward shone out high and sharply defined. As has been usual since wecrossed the mountains and descended into the hot plains, we had a gale ofwind. We traveled down the right bank of the stream, over sands which aresomewhat loose, and have no verdure, but are occupied by various shrubs. Aclear bold stream, 60 feet wide, and several feet deep, had a strangeappearance, running between perfectly naked banks of sand. The eye, however, is somewhat relieved by willows, and the beautiful green of thesweet cottonwoods with which it is well wooded. As we followed along itscourse, the river, instead of growing constantly larger, graduallydwindled away, as it was absorbed by the sand. We were now careful to takethe old camping-places of the annual Santa Fé caravans, which, luckily forus, had not yet made their yearly passage. A drove of several thousandhorses and mules would entirely have swept away the scanty grass at thewatering places, and we should have been obliged to leave the road toobtain 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 ofthe morning, entirely disappeared. We continued along the dry bed, inwhich, after an interval of about 16 miles, the water reappeared in somelow places, well timbered with cottonwood and willow, where was another ofthe 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 provedto be the Mohahve Indians mentioned by our recent guide; and from one ofthem, who spoke Spanish fluently, I obtained some interesting information, which I would be glad to introduce here. An account of the peopleinhabiting this region would undoubtedly possess interest for thecivilized world. Our journey homewards was fruitful in incident; and thecountry through which we traveled, although a desert, afforded much toexcite the curiosity of the botanist; but limited time, and the rapidlyadvancing season for active operations, oblige me to omit all extendeddescriptions, and hurry briefly to the conclusion of this report. 

The Indian who spoke Spanish had been educated for a number of years atone of the Spanish missions, and, at the breaking up of thoseestablishments, had returned to the mountains, where he had been found bya 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_, " (mymaster. ) He said they lived upon a large river in the southeast, which the"soldiers called the Rio Colorado;" but that, formerly, a portion of themlived upon this river, and among the mountains which had bounded the rivervalley to the northward during the day, and that here along the river theyhad raised various kinds of melons. They sometimes came over to trade withthe Indians of the Sierra, bringing with them blankets and goodsmanufactured by the Monquis and other Colorado Indians. They rarelycarried home horses, on account of the difficulty of getting them acrossthe desert, and of guarding them afterwards from the Pa-utah Indians, whoinhabit the Sierra, at the head of the _Rio Virgen_, (river of theVirgin. )

He informed us that, a short distance below, this river finallydisappeared. The two different portions in which water is found hadreceived from the priests two different names; and subsequently I heard itcalled by the Spaniards the _Rio de las Animas_, but on the map wehave called it the _Mohahve_ river. 

24th. --We continued down the stream (or rather its bed) for about eightmiles, where there was water still in several holes, and encamped. Thecaravans sometimes continued below, to the end of the river, from whichthere 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 aconsiderable distance, the characteristic tree. It was here comparativelylarge, being about 20 feet in height, with a full and spreading top, thelower branches declining towards the ground. It afterwards occurred ofsmaller size, frequently in groves, and is very fragrant. It has beencalled by Dr. Torrey, _spirolobium odoratum_. The zygophyllaceousshrub had been constantly characteristic of the plains along the river;and here, among many new plants, a new and very remarkable species oferiogonum (_eriogonum inflatum_, Tor. & Frem. ) made its firstappearance. 

Our cattle had become so tired and poor by this fatiguing traveling, thatthree of them were killed here, and the meat dried. The Indians had now anoccasion for a great feast and were occupied the remainder of the day andall night in cooking and eating. There was no part of the animal for whichthey did not find some use, except the bones. In the afternoon we weresurprised by the sudden appearance in the camp of two Mexicans--a man anda boy. The name of the man was _Andreas Fuentes_; and that of theboy, (a handsome lad, 11 years old, ) _Pablo Hernandez_. They belongedto a party consisting of six persons, the remaining four being the wife ofFuentes, and the father and mother of Pablo, and Santiago Giacome, aresident of New Mexico. With a cavalcade of about thirty horses, they hadcome out from Puebla de los Angeles, near the coast, under the guidance ofGiacome, in advance of the great caravan, in order to travel more atleisure, and obtain better grass. Having advanced as far into the desertas was considered consistent with their safety, they halted at the_Archilette_, one of the customary camping-grounds, about 80 milesfrom our encampment, where there is a spring of good water, withsufficient grass; and concluded to await there the arrival of the greatcaravan. Several Indians were soon discovered lurking about the camp, who, in a day or two after, came in, and, after behaving in a very friendlymanner, took their leave, without awakening any suspicions. Theirdeportment begat a security which proved fatal. In a few days afterwards, suddenly a party of about one hundred Indians appeared in sight, advancingtowards the camp. It was too late, or they seemed not to have presence ofmind to take proper measures of safety; and the Indians charged down intotheir camp, shouting as they advanced, and discharging flights of arrows. Pablo and Fuentes were on horse-guard at the time, and mounted accordingto the custom of the country. One of the principal objects of the Indianswas to get possession of the horses, and part of them immediatelysurrounded the band; but, in obedience to the shouts of Giacome, Fuentesdrove the animals over and through the assailants, in spite of theirarrows; and, abandoning the rest to their fate, carried them off at speedacross 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 awatering-place on the trail, called Agua de Tomaso. Without givingthemselves any time for rest, they hurried on, hoping to meet the Spanishcaravan, when they discovered my camp. I received them kindly, taking theminto my own mess, and promised them such aid as circumstances might put itin my power to give. 

25th. --We left the river abruptly, and, turning to the north, regained ina few miles the main trail, (which had left the river sooner thanourselves, ) and continued our way across a lower ridge of the mountain, through a miserable tract of sand and gravel. We crossed at intervals thebroad beds of dry gullies, where in the seasons of rains and melting snowsthere would be brooks or rivulets: and at one of these, where there was noindication of water, were several freshly-dug holes, in which there waswater 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. Theywere nice little wells, narrow, and dug straight down; and we got pleasantwater out of them. 

The country had now assumed the character of an elevated and mountainousdesert; its general features being black, rocky ridges, bald, anddestitute of timber, with sandy basins between. Where the sides of theseridges are washed by gullies, the plains below are strewed with beds oflarge pebbles or rolled stones, destructive to our soft-footed animals, accustomed to the soft plains of the Sacramento valley. Through thesesandy basins sometimes struggled a scanty stream, or occurred a hole ofwater, which furnished camping-grounds for travelers. Frequently in ourjourney across, snow was visible on the surrounding mountains; but theirwaters rarely reached the sandy plain below, where we toiled along, oppressed with thirst and a burning sun. But, throughout this nakedness ofsand and gravel, were many beautiful plants and flowering shrubs, whichoccurred in many new species, and with greater variety than we had beenaccustomed to see in the most luxuriant prairie countries; this was apeculiarity of this desert. Even where no grass would take root, the nakedsand would bloom with some rich and rare flower, which found itsappropriate home in the arid and barren spot. 

Scattered over the plain, and tolerably abundant, was a handsomeleguminous shrub, three or four feet high, with fine bright purpleflowers. It is a new _psoralea_, and occurred frequently henceforwardalong 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 25miles, we arrived at the _Agua de Tomaso_--the spring where thehorses had been left; but, as we expected, they were gone. A briefexamination of the ground convinced us that they had been driven off bythe Indians. Carson and Godey volunteered, with the Mexican, to pursuethem; 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 apool; but near by was a spring, which had been dug out by Indians ortravelers. Its water was cool--a great refreshment to us under a burningsun. 

In the evening Fuentes returned, his horse having failed; but Carson andGodey had continued the pursuit. 

I observed to-night an occultation of _a2 Cancri_, at the dark limbof the moon, which gives for the longitude of the place 116° 23' 28"; thelatitude, by observation, is 35° 13' 08". From Helvetia to this place, thepositions along the intervening line are laid down, with the longitudesobtained from the chronometer, which appears to have retained its rateremarkably well; but henceforward, to the end of our journey, the fewlongitudes given are absolute, depending upon a subsequent occultation andeclipses of the satellites. 

In the afternoon of the next day, a war-whoop was heard, such as Indiansmake when returning from a victorious enterprise; and soon Carson andGodey appeared, driving before them a band of horses, recognised byFuentes to be part of those they had lost. Two bloody scalps, danglingfrom the end of Godey's gun, announced that they had overtaken the Indiansas well as the horses. They informed us, that after Fuentes left them, from the failure of his horse, they continued the pursuit alone, andtowards night-fall entered the mountains, into which the trail led. Aftersunset the moon gave light, and they followed the trail by moonshine untillate in the night, when it entered a narrow defile, and was difficult tofollow. Afraid of losing it in the darkness of the defile, they tied uptheir horses, struck no fire, and lay down to sleep, in silence and indarkness. Here they lay from midnight until morning. At daylight theyresumed the pursuit, and about sunrise discovered the horses; and, immediately dismounting and tying up their own, they crept cautiously to arising ground which intervened, from the crest of which they perceived theencampment of four lodges close by. They proceeded quietly, and had gotwithin 30 or 40 yards of their object, when a movement among the horsesdiscovered them to the Indians. Giving the war-shout, they instantlycharged into the camp, regardless of the number which the _four_lodges would imply. The Indians received them with a flight of arrows shotfrom 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, andrushed in. Two Indians were stretched upon the ground, fatally piercedwith bullets: the rest fled, except a little lad that was captured. Thescalps of the fallen were instantly stripped off; but in the process, oneof them, who had two balls through his body, sprang to his feet, the bloodstreaming from his skinned head, and uttering a hideous howl. An oldsquaw, possibly his mother, stopped and looked back from the mountainsidesshe was climbing, threatening and lamenting. The frightful spectacleappalled the stout hearts of our men; but they did what humanity required, and quickly terminated the agonies of the gory savage. They were nowmasters of the camp, which was a pretty little recess in the mountain, with a fine spring, and apparently safe from all invasion. Greatpreparations had been made to feast a large party, for it was a veryproper place to rendezvous, and for the celebration of such orgies asrobbers of the desert would delight in. Several of the best horses hadbeen killed, skinned, and cut up; for the Indians living in mountains, andonly coming into the plains to rob and murder, make no other use of horsesthan to eat them. Large earthen vessels were on the fire, boiling andstewing the horse-beef; and several baskets, containing 50 or 60 pairs ofmoccasins, indicated the presence, or expectation, of a considerableparty. They released the boy, who had given strong evidence of thestoicism, or something else, of the savage character, in commencing hisbreakfast upon a horse's head, as soon as he found he was not to bekilled, but only tied as a prisoner. Their object accomplished, our mengathered up all the surviving horses, fifteen in number, returned upontheir trail, and rejoined us, at our camp, in the afternoon of the sameday. They had rode about 100 miles, in the pursuit and return, and all in30 hours. The time, place, object, and numbers considered, this expeditionof Carson and Godey may be considered among the boldest and mostdisinterested which the annals of western adventure, so full of daringdeeds, can present. Two men, in a savage desert, pursue day and night anunknown body of Indians, into the defile of an unknown mountain--attackthem on sight, without counting numbers--and defeat them in an instant--and for what? To punish the robbers of the desert, and to avenge thewrongs of Mexicans whom they did not know. I repeat: it was Carson andGodey who did this--the former an _American_, born in the Boonslickcounty of Missouri; the latter a Frenchman, born in St. Louis, --and bothtrained to western enterprise from early life. 

By the information of Fuentes, we had now to make a long stretch of 40 or50 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 oftraveling through the night, and avoiding the excessive heat of the day, which was oppressive to our animals. For several hours we traveled acrossa high plain, passing, at the opposite side, through a canon by the bed ofa creek, running northwardly into a small lake beyond, and both of thembeing dry. We had a warm, moonshiny night; and, traveling directly towardsthe north-star, we journeyed now across an open plain, between mountain-ridges--that on the left being broken, rocky, and bald, according toCarson and Godey, who had entered here in pursuit of the horses. The plainappeared covered principally with the _zygophyllum Californicum_, already mentioned; and the line of our road was marked by the skeletons ofhorses, which were strewed to considerable breadth over the plain. We werealways warned on entering one of these long stretches, by the bones ofthese animals, which had perished before they could reach the water. Aboutmidnight we reached a considerable stream-bed, now dry--the discharge ofthe waters of this basin, (when it collected any)--down which wedescended, in a northwesterly direction. The creek-bed was overgrown withshrubbery, and several hours before day it brought us to the entrance of acanon, where we found water, and encamped. This word _canon_ is usedby the Spaniards to signify a defile or gorge in a creek or river, wherehigh rocks press in close, and make a narrow way, usually difficult, andoften 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, whichrose in springs, being useful only to wet the mouth, but entirely too saltto drink. All around was sand and rocks, and skeletons of horses which hadnot 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 thesouthward, a spring of tolerably good water, which was a relief toourselves; but the place was too poor to remain long, and therefore wecontinued on this morning. On the creek were thickets of _spirolobiumodoratum_ (acacia) in bloom, and very fragrant. 

Passing through the canon, we entered another sandy basin, through whichthe dry stream-bed continued its north-westerly course, in which directionappeared a high snowy mountain. 

We traveled through a barren district, where a heavy gale was blowingabout the loose sand, and, after a ride of eight miles, reached a largecreek of salt and bitter water, running in a westerly direction, toreceive the stream-bed we had left. It is called by the Spaniards_Amargosa_--the bitter-water of the desert. Where we struck it, thestream bends; and we continued in a northerly course up the ravine of itsvalley, passing on the way a fork from the right, near which occurred abed of plants, consisting of a remarkable new genus of _cruciferæ_. 

Gradually ascending, the ravine opened into a green valley, where, at thefoot of the mountain, were springs of excellent water. We encamped amonggroves of the new _acacia_, and there was an abundance of good grassfor the animals. 

This was the best camping-ground we had seen since we struck the Spanishtrail. 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 encampmentearly, we traversed a part of the desert the most sterile and repulsive wehad yet seen. Its prominent features were dark _sierras_, naked anddry; on the plains a few straggling shrubs--among them, cactus of severalvarieties. Fuentes pointed out one called by the Spaniards _bisnada_, which has a juicy pulp, slightly acid, and is eaten by the traveler toallay thirst. Our course was generally north; and, after crossing anintervening ridge, we descended into a sandy plain, or basin, in themiddle 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: everything else was gone. They were naked, mutilated, and pierced with arrows. Hernandez had evidently fought, and with desperation. He lay in advance ofthe willow half-faced tent, which sheltered his family, as if he had comeout 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 beencarried off captive. A little lap-dog, which had belonged to Pablo'smother, remained with the dead bodies, and was frantic with joy at seeingPablo; he, poor child, was frantic with grief, and filled the air withlamentations for his father and mother. _Mi Padre! Mi Madre!_--washis incessant cry. When we beheld this pitiable sight, and pictured toourselves the fate of the two women, carried off by savages so brutal andso loathsome, all compunction for the scalped-alive Indian ceased; and werejoiced that Carson and Godey had been able to give so useful a lesson tothese American Arabs who lie in wait to murder and plunder the innocenttraveler. 

We were all too much affected by the sad feelings which the placeinspired, to remain an unnecessary moment. The night we were obliged topass there. Early in the morning we left it, having first written a briefaccount of what had happened, and put it in the cleft of a pole planted atthe spring, that the approaching caravan might learn the fate of theirfriends. In commemoration of the event, we called the place _Ague deHernandez_--Hernandez's spring. By observation, its latitude was 35°51' 21". 

30th. --We continued our journey over a district similar to that of the daybefore. From the sandy basin, in which was the spring, we entered anotherbasin of the same character, surrounded everywhere by mountains. Before usstretched a high range, rising still higher to the left, and terminatingin a snowy mountain. 

After a day's march of 24 miles, we reached at evening the bed of a streamfrom which the water had disappeared, a little only remaining in holes, which we increased by digging; and about a mile above, the stream, not yetentirely sunk, was spread out over the sands, affording a little water forthe animals. The stream came out of the mountains on the left, veryslightly 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 thelast two days, and _eriogonum inflatum_ was among the characteristicplants. 

MAY. 

1st. --The air is rough, and overcoats pleasant. The sky is blue, and theday 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, andin rich fresh bloom, which wonderfully ornaments this poor country. Weencamped at a spring in the pass, which had been the site of an oldvillage. Here we found excellent grass, but very little water. We dug outthe old spring, and watered some of our animals. The mountain here waswooded very slightly with the nut-pine, cedars, and a dwarf species ofoak; and among the shrubs were _Purshia tridentata, artemisia_, and_ephedra occidentalis_. The numerous shrubs which constitute thevegetation of the plains are now in bloom, with flowers of white, yellow, red, and purple. The continual rocks, and want of water and grass, beganto be very hard on our mules and horses; but the principal loss isoccasioned by their crippled feet, the greater part of those left being inexcellent order, and scarcely a day passes without some loss; and, one byone, Fuentes' horses are constantly dropping behind. Whenever they giveout, 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 themountain; and, descending to a small valley plain, encamped at the foot ofthe ridge, on the bed of a creek, and found good grass in sufficientquantity, and abundance of water in holes. The ridge is extremely ruggedand broken, presenting on this side a continued precipice, and probablyaffords 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, weencamped in the midst of another very large basin, at a camping groundcalled _las Vegas_--a term which the Spaniards use to signify fertileor marshy plains, in contradistinction to _llanos_, which they applyto dry and sterile plains. Two narrow streams of clear water, four or fivefeet deep, gush suddenly, with a quick current, from two singularly largesprings; these, and other waters of the basin, pass out in a gap to theeastward. The taste of the water is good, but rather too warm to beagreeable; the temperature being 71° in the one, and 73° in the other. They, however, afford a delightful bathing-place. 

4th. --We started this morning earlier than usual, traveling in anortheasterly direction across the plain. The new acacia (_spirolobiumodoratum_) has now become the characteristic tree of the country; it isin bloom, and its blossoms are very fragrant. The day was still, and theheat, which soon became very oppressive, appeared to bring out stronglythe refreshing scent of the zygophyllaceous shrubs and the sweet perfumeof the acacia. The snowy ridge we had just crossed looked outconspicuously in the northwest. In about five hours' ride, we crossed agap in the surrounding ridge, and the appearance of skeletons of horsesvery soon warned us that we were engaged in another dry _jornada_, which proved the longest we had made in all our journey--between fifty andsixty miles without a drop of water. 

Travelers through countries affording water and timber can have noconception of our intolerable thirst while journeying over the hot yellowsands of this elevated country, where the heated air seems to be entirelydeprived of moisture. We ate occasionally the _bisnada_, andmoistened our mouths with the acid of the sour dock, (_rumexvenosus_. ) Hourly expecting to find water, we continued to press onuntil towards midnight, when, after a hard and uninterrupted march of 16hours, our wild mules began running ahead; and in a mile or two we came toa bold running stream--so keen is the sense of that animal, in thesedesert regions, in scenting at a distance this necessary of life. 

According to the information we had received, Sevier river was a tributaryof the Colorado; and this, accordingly, should have been one of itsaffluents. It proved to be the _Rio de los Angeles_, (river of theAngels)--a branch of the _Rio Virgen_. (river of the Virgin. )

5th. --On account of our animals, it was necessary to remain to-day at thisplace. Indians crowded numerously around us in the morning; and we wereobliged to keep arms in hand all day, to keep them out of the camp. Theybegan to surround the horses, which, for the convenience of grass, we wereguarding 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 firesbeing commanded by a rocky bluff within 50 yards; but, notwithstanding, wehad the river and small thickets of willows on the other side. Severaltimes during the day the camp was insulted by the Indians; but, peacebeing our object, I kept simply on the defensive. Some of the Indians wereon the bottoms, and others haranguing us from the bluffs; and they werescattered in every direction over the hills. Their language being probablya dialect of the _Utah_, with the aid of signs some of our peoplecould comprehend them very well. They were the same people who hadmurdered the Mexicans; and towards us their disposition was evidentlyhostile, nor were we well disposed towards them. They were barefooted, andnearly 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 instantservice. Their arrows are barbed with a very clear translucent stone, aspecies of opal, nearly as hard as the diamond; and, shot from their longbow, are almost as effective as a gunshot. In these Indians, I wasforcibly struck by an expression of countenance resembling that in a beastof prey; and all their actions are those of wild animals. Joined to therestless motion of the eye, there is a want of mind--an absence ofthought--and an action wholly by impulse, strongly expressed, and whichconstantly recalls the similarity. 

A man who appeared to be a chief, with two or three others forced himselfinto the camp, bringing with him his arms, in spite of my orders to thecontrary. When shown our weapons, he bored his ear with his fingers, andsaid he could not hear. "Why, " said he, "there are none of you. " Countingthe people around the camp, and including in the number a mule that wasbeing shod, he made out 22. "So many, " said he, showing the number, "andwe--we are a great many;" and he pointed to the hills and mountains roundabout. "If you have your arms, " said he, twanging his bow, "we havethese. " I had some difficulty in restraining the people, particularlyCarson, who felt an insult of this kind as much as if it had been given bya more responsible being. "Don't say that, old man, " said he; "don't yousay that--your life's in danger"--speaking in good English; and probablythe 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, severalmen were sent to bring them in. When I was beginning to be uneasy at theirabsence, they returned with information that they had been driven off fromthe 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 Igave a fatigued horse to some of the Indians for a feast; and the villagewhich carried him off refused to share with the others, who made loudcomplaints from the rocks of the partial distribution. Many of theseIndians had long sticks, hooked at the end, which they use in hauling outlizards, and other small animals, from their holes. During the day theyoccasionally roasted and ate lizards at our fires. These belong to thepeople who are generally known under the name of _Diggers_; and tothese I have more particularly had reference when occasionally speaking ofa people whose sole occupation is to procure food sufficient to supportexistence. The formation here consists of fine yellow sandstone, alternating with a coarse conglomerate, in which the stones are from thesize of ordinary gravel to six or eight inches in diameter. This is theformation which renders the surface of the country so rocky, and gives usnow a road alternately of loose heavy sands and rolled stones, whichcripple the animals in a most extraordinary manner. 

On the following morning we left the _Rio de los Angeles_, andcontinued our way through the same desolate and revolting country, wherelizards were the only animal, and the tracks of the lizard eaters theprincipal sign of human beings. After twenty miles' march through a roadof hills and heavy sands, we reached the most dreary river I have everseen--a deep rapid stream, almost a torrent, passing swiftly by, androaring against obstructions. The banks were wooded with willow, acacia, and a frequent plant of the country already mentioned, (_Garryaelliptica_, ) growing in thickets, resembling willow, and bearing asmall pink flower. Crossing it we encamped on the left bank, where wefound a very little grass. Our three remaining steers, being entirelygiven out, were killed here. By the boiling point, the elevation of theriver here is 4, 060 feet; and latitude, by observation, 36°41' 33". Thestream was running towards the southwest, and appeared to come from asnowy mountain in the north. It proved to be the _Rio Virgen_--atributary to the Colorado. Indians appeared in bands on the hills, but didnot come into camp. For several days we continued our journey up theriver, the bottoms of which were thickly overgrown with various kinds ofbrush; and the sandy soil was absolutely covered with the tracks of_Diggers_, who followed us stealthily, like a band of wolves; and wehad no opportunity to leave behind, even for a few hours, the tiredanimals, in order that they might be brought into camp after a littlerepose. A horse or mule, left behind, was taken off in a moment. On theevening of the 8th, having traveled 28 miles up the river from our firstencampment on it, we encamped at a little grass-plat, where a spring ofcool water issued from the bluff. On the opposite side was a grove ofcottonwoods at the mouth of a fork, which here enters the river. On eitherside 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 thenext day were sent out to reconnoitre, and in the mean time we moved abouta mile farther up, where we found a good little patch of grass. Therebeing only sufficient grass for the night, the horses were sent with astrong guard in charge of Tabeau to a neighboring hollow, where they mightpasture during the day; and, to be ready in case the Indians should makeany attempt on the animals, several of the best horses were picketed atthe camp. In a few hours the hunters returned, having found a convenientford 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 theday, I fell asleep in the afternoon, and did not awake until sundown. Presently Carson came to me, and reported that Tabeau, who early in theday had left his post, and, without my knowledge, rode back to the camp wehad left, in search of a lame mule, had not returned. While we werespeaking, a smoke rose suddenly from the cottonwood grove below, whichplainly told us what had befallen him; it was raised to inform thesurrounding Indians that a blow had been struck, and to tell them to be ontheir guard. Carson, with several men well mounted, was instantly sentdown the river, but returned in the night without tidings of the missingman. They went to the camp we had left, but neither he nor the mule wasthere. Searching down the river, they found the tracks of the mule, evidently driven along by Indians, whose tracks were on each side of thosemade by the animal. After going several miles, they came to the muleitself, 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 alsofound, in another place, as they were hunting about on the ground forTabeau's tracks, something that looked like a little puddle of blood, butwhich the darkness prevented them from verifying. With these details theyreturned to our camp, and their report saddened all our hearts. 

10th. --This morning, as soon as there was light enough to follow tracks, Iset 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. Bloodupon the leaves, and beaten-down bushes, showed that he had got his woundabout twenty paces from where he fell, and that he had struggled for hislife. He had probably been shot through the lungs with an arrow. From theplace where he lay and bled, it could be seen that he had been dragged tothe river bank, and thrown into it. No vestige of what had belonged to himcould 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 gloomover our party. Men, who have gone through such dangers and sufferings aswe had seen, become like brothers, and feel each other's loss. To defendand avenge each other, is the deep feeling of all. We wished to avenge hisdeath; but the condition of our horses, languishing for grass and repose, forbade an expedition into unknown mountains. We knew the tribe who haddone the mischief--the same which had been insulting our camp. They knewwhat they deserved, and had the discretion to show themselves to us nomore. The day before, they infested our camp; now, not one appeared; nordid 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 feetdeep in the mountain--through which the _Rio Virgen_ passes, andwhere no man or beast could follow it. The Spanish trail, which we hadlost in the sands of the basin, was on the opposite side of the river. Wecrossed over to it, and followed it northwardly towards a gap which wasvisible in the mountain. We approached it by a defile, rendered difficultfor our barefooted animals by the rocks strewed along it; and here thecountry changed its character. From the time we entered the desert, themountains had been bald and rocky; here they began to be wooded with cedarand pine, and clusters of trees gave shelter to birds--a new and welcomesight--which could not have lived in the desert we had passed. 

Descending a long hollow, towards the narrow valley of a stream, we sawbefore us a snowy mountain, far beyond which appeared another more loftystill. Good bunch-grass began to appear on the hill-sides, and here wefound a singular variety of interesting shrubs. The changed appearance ofthe country infused among our people a more lively spirit, which washeightened by finding at evening a halting-place of very good grass on theclear waters of the _Santa Clara_ fork of the _Rio Virgen_. 

11th. --The morning was cloudy and quite cool, with a shower of rain--thefirst we have had since entering the desert, a period of 27 days--and weseem to have entered a different climate, with the usual weather of theRocky mountains. Our march to-day was very laborious, over very brokenground, along the Santa Clara river; but then the country is no longer sodistressingly desolate. The stream is prettily wooded with sweetcottonwood trees--some of them of large size; and on the hills, where thenut-pine is often seen, a good and wholesome grass occurs frequently. Thiscottonwood, which is now in fruit, is of a different species from any inMichaux's Sylva. Heavy dark clouds covered the sky in the evening and acold wind sprang up, making fires and overcoats comfortable. 

12th. --A little above our encampment the river forked, and we continued upthe right-hand branch, gradually ascending towards the summit of themountain. As we rose towards the head of the creek, the snowy mountains onour right showed out handsomely--high and rugged, with precipices, andcovered with snow for about two thousand feet from their summits down. Ouranimals were somewhat repaid for their hard marches by an excellentcamping-ground on the summit of the ridge, which forms here the dividingchain between the waters of the _Rio Virgen_, which goes south to theColorado, and those of Sevier river, flowing northwardly, and belonging tothe Great Basin. We considered ourselves as crossing the rim of the basin;and, entering it at this point, we found here an extensive mountainmeadow, rich in bunch-grass, and fresh with numerous springs of clearwater, 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 asthe terminating point of the desert, and where the annual caravan fromCalifornia to New Mexico halted and recruited for some weeks. It was avery suitable place to recover from the fatigue and exhaustion of amonth's suffering in the hot and sterile desert. The meadow was about amile wide, some ten miles long, bordered by grassy hills and mountains--some of the latter rising two thousand feet, and white with snow down tothe level of the _vegas_. Its elevation above the sea was 5, 280 feet;latitude, by observation, 37° 28' 28", and its distance from where wefirst struck the Spanish trail about 400 miles. Counting from the time wereached the desert, and began to skirt, at our descent from Walker's Passin the Sierra Nevada, we had traveled 550 miles, occupying 27 days, inthat inhospitable region. In passing before the Great Caravan, we had theadvantage of finding more grass, but the disadvantage of finding also themarauding savages, who had gathered down upon the trail, waiting theapproach of that prey. This greatly increased our labors, besides costingus the life of an excellent man. We had to move all day in a state ofwatch, and prepared for combat--scouts and flankers out, a front and reardivision of our men, and baggage-animals in the centre. At night, campduty was severe. Those who had toiled all day, had to guard, by turns, thecamp and the horses, all night. Frequently one-third of the whole partywere on guard at once; and nothing but this vigilance saved us fromattack. We were constantly dogged by bands, and even whole tribes ofmarauders; and although Tabeau was killed, and our camp infested andinsulted by some, while swarms of them remained on the hills and mountain-sides, there was manifestly a consultation and calculation going on, todecide the question of attacking us. Having reached the resting-place ofthe _Vegas de Santa Clara_, we had complete relief from the heat andprivations of the desert, and some relaxation from the severity of campduty. Some relaxation, and relaxation only--for camp-guards, horse-guards, and scouts, are indispensable from the time of leaving the frontiers ofMissouri until we return to them. 

After we left the _Vegas_, we had the gratification to be joined bythe famous hunter and trapper, Mr. Joseph Walker, whom I have beforementioned, and who now became our guide. He had left California with thegreat caravan; and perceiving, from the signs along the trail, that therewas a party of whites ahead, which he judged to be mine, he detachedhimself from the caravan, with eight men, (Americans, ) and ran thegauntlet of the desert robbers, killing two, and getting some of thehorses wounded, and succeeded in overtaking us. Nothing but his greatknowledge of the country, great courage and presence of mind, and goodrifles, 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 descendedinto a broad valley, the water of which is tributary to Sevier lake. Thenext 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 systemof 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 theregion of which we were now approaching. We traveled for several days inthis direction, within the rim of the Great Basin, crossing little streamswhich bore to the left for Sevier lake; and plainly seeing, by the changedaspect of the country, that we were entirely clear of the desert, andapproaching the regions which appertained to the system of the Rockymountains. We met, in this traverse, a few mounted Utah Indians, inadvance 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 littlelake, which well merits its characteristic name, lies immediately at thebase of the Wah-satch range, and nearly opposite a gap in that chain ofmountains through which the Spanish trail passes; and which, again fallingupon the waters of the Colorado, and crossing that river, proceeds over amountainous country to Santa Fé. 

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 throughthe wilderness. The Spanish trail had borne off to the southeast, crossingthe Wah-satch range. Our course led to the northeast, along the foot ofthat range, and leaving it on the right. The mountain presented itself tous under the form of several ridges, rising one above the other, rocky, and wooded with pine and cedar; the last ridge covered with snow. Sevierriver, flowing northwardly to the lake of the same name, collects itsprincipal waters from this section of the Wah-satch chain. We had nowentered a region of great pastoral promise, abounding with fine streams, the rich bunch-grass, soil that would produce wheat, and indigenous flaxgrowing as if it had been sown. Consistent with the general character ofits bordering mountains, this fertility of soil and vegetation does notextend far into the Great Basin. Mr. Joseph Walker, our guide, and who hasmore knowledge of these parts than any man I know, informed me that allthe country to the left was unknown to him, and that even the_Digger_ tribes, which frequented Lake Sevier, could tell him nothingabout it. 

20th. --We met a band of Utah Indians, headed by a well-known chief, whohad obtained the American or English name of Walker, by which he is quotedand well known. They were all mounted, armed with rifles, and used theirrifles well. The chief had a fusee, which he carried slung, in addition tohis rifle. They were journeying slowly towards the Spanish trail, to levytheir usual tribute upon the great California caravan. They were robbersof a higher order than those of the desert. They conducted theirdepredations with form, and under the color of trade and toll, for passingthrough their country. Instead of attacking and killing, they affect topurchase--taking the horses they like, and giving something nominal inreturn. The chief was quite civil to me. He was personally acquainted withhis namesake, our guide, who made my name known to him. He knew of myexpedition of 1842; and, as tokens of friendship, and proof that we hadmet, proposed an interchange of presents. We had no great store to chooseout of; so he gave me a Mexican blanket, and I gave him a very fine onewhich I had obtained at Vancouver. 

23d. --We reached Sevier river--the main tributary of the lake of the samename--which, deflecting from its northern course, here breaks from themountains to enter the lake. It was really a fine river, from eight totwelve feet deep; and after searching in vain for a fordable place, wemade 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 downupon poles, as close as they can be pressed, and fashioned like a boat, inbeing broader in the middle and pointed at the ends. The rushes, beingtubular and jointed, are light and strong. The raft swims well, and isshoved along by poles, or paddled, or pushed and pulled by swimmers, ordrawn by ropes. On this occasion, we used ropes--one at each end--andrapidly drew our little float backwards and forwards from shore to shore. The horses swam. At our place of crossing, which was the most northernpoint of its bend, the latitude was 39° 22' 19". The banks sustained thecharacter for fertility and vegetation which we had seen for some days. The name of this river and lake was an indication of our approach toregions of which our people had been the explorers. It was probably namedafter some American trapper or hunter, and was the first American name wehad met with since leaving the Columbia river. From the Dalles to thepoint where we turned across the Sierra Nevada, near 1, 000 miles, we heardIndian names, and the greater part of the distance none; from NuevaHelvetia (Sacramento) to _las Vegas de Santa Clara_, about 1, 000more, all were Spanish; from the Mississippi to the Pacific, French andAmerican or English were intermixed; and this prevalence of namesindicates the national character of the first explorers. 

We had here the misfortune to lose one of our people, François Badeau, whohad been with me on both expeditions; during which he had always been oneof my most faithful and efficient men. He was killed in drawing towardshim 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 theriver. 

Crossing the next day a slight ridge along the river, we entered ahandsome mountain valley covered with fine grass, and directed our coursetowards a high snowy peak, at the foot of which lay the Utah lake. On ourright was a bed of high mountains, their summits covered with snow, constituting the dividing ridge between the Basin waters and those of theColorado. At noon we fell in with a party of Utah Indians coming out ofthe mountain, and in the afternoon encamped on a tributary to the lake, which is separated from the waters of the Sevier by very slight dividinggrounds. 

Early the next day we came in sight of the lake; and, as we descended tothe broad bottoms of the Spanish fork, three horsemen were seen gallopingtowards us, who proved to be Utah Indians--scouts from a village, whichwas encamped near the mouth of the river. They were armed with rifles, andtheir horses were in good condition. We encamped near them, on the Spanishfork, which is one of the principal tributaries to the lake. Finding theIndians troublesome, and desirous to remain here a day, we removed thenext morning farther down the lake and encamped on a fertile bottom nearthe foot of the same mountainous ridge which borders the Great Salt lake, and along which we had journeyed the previous September. Here theprincipal plants in bloom were two, which were remarkable as affording tothe Snake Indians--the one an abundant supply of food, and the other themost useful among the applications which they use for wounds. These werethe kooyah plant, growing in fields of extraordinary luxuriance, and_convollaria stellata_, which, from the experience of Mr. Walker, isthe best remedial plant known among these Indians. A few miles below uswas another village of Indians, from which we obtained some fish--amongthem a few salmon trout, which were very much inferior in size to thosealong the Californian mountains. The season for taking them had not yetarrived; but the Indians were daily expecting them to come up out of thelake. 

We had now accomplished an object we had in view when leaving the Dallesof the Columbia in November last: we had reached the Utah lake; but by aroute very different from the one we had intended, and without sufficienttime remaining to make the examinations which we desired. It is a lake ofnote in this country, under the dominion of the Utahs, who resort to itfor fish. Its greatest breadth is about fifteen miles, stretching far tothe 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; andhere is a problem which requires to be solved. It is almost entirelysurrounded by mountains, walled on the north and east by a high and snowyrange, which supplies to it a fan of tributary streams. Among these, theprincipal river is the _Timpan-ogo_--signifying Rock river--a namewhich the rocky grandeur of its scenery, remarkable even in this countryof rugged mountains, has obtained for it from the Indians. In the Utahlanguage, _og-wah-be_, the term for river, when coupled with otherwords in common conversation, is usually abbreviated to _ogo; timpan_signifying rock. It is probable that this river furnished the name whichon the older maps has been generally applied to the Great Salt lake; butfor this I have preferred a name which will be regarded as highlycharacteristic, restricting to the river the descriptive term Timpan-ogo, and leaving for the lake into which it flows the name of the people whoreside 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 thatof the Sevier river; and, at the time of our visit, there was only oneplace in the lake-valley at which the Spanish fork was fordable. In thecove of the mountains along its eastern shore, the lake is bordered by aplain, where the soil is generally good, and in greater part fertile;watered by a delta of prettily timbered streams. This would be anexcellent locality for stock-farms; it is generally covered with goodbunch-grass, and would abundantly produce the ordinary grains. 

In arriving at the Utah lake, we had completed an immense circuit oftwelve 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 hadleft in September, 1843. The Utah is the southern limb of the Great Saltlake; and thus we had seen that remarkable sheet of water both at itsnorthern and southern extremity, and were able to fix its position atthese two points. The circuit which we had made, and which had cost useight months of time, and 3, 500 miles of traveling, had given us a view ofOregon and of North California from the Rocky mountains to the Pacificocean, and of the two principal streams which form bays or harbors on thecoast of that sea. Having completed this circuit, and being now about toturn the back upon the Pacific slope of our continent, and to recross theRocky mountains, it is natural to look back upon our footsteps, and takesome brief view of the leading features and general structure of thecountry we had traversed. These are peculiar and striking, and differessentially from the Atlantic side of the country. The mountains all arehigher, more numerous, and more distinctly defined in their ranges anddirections; and, what is so contrary to the natural order of formations, one of these ranges, which is near the coast, (the Sierra Nevada and theCoast Range, ) presents higher elevations and peaks than any which are tobe found in the Rocky mountains themselves. In our eight months' circuit, we were never out of sight of snow; and the Sierra Nevada, where wecrossed it, was near 2, 000 feet higher than the South Pass in the Rockymountains. In height, these mountains greatly exceed those of the Atlanticside, constantly presenting peaks which enter the region of eternal snow;and some of them volcanic, and in a frequent state of activity. They areseen at great distances, and guide the traveler in his course. 

The course and elevation of these ranges give direction to the rivers andcharacter to the coast. No great river does, or can, take its rise belowthe Cascade and Sierra Nevada range; the distance to the sea is too shortto admit of it. The rivers of the San Francisco bay, which are the largestafter 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, andrunning each in a valley of its own, between the Coast range and theCascade and Sierra Nevada range. The Columbia is the only river whichtraverses the whole breadth of the country, breaking through all theranges, and entering the sea. Drawing its waters from a section of tendegrees of latitude in the Rocky mountains, which are collected into onestream by three main forks (Lewis's, Clark's, and the North fork) near thecentre of the Oregon valley, this great river thence proceeds by a singlechannel to the sea, while its three forks lead each to a pass in themountains, which opens the way into the interior of the continent. Thisfact in relation to the rivers of this region, gives an immense value tothe 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, theonly line of communication between the Pacific and the interior of NorthAmerica; and all operations of war or commerce, of national or socialintercourse, must be conducted upon it. This gives it a value beyondestimation, and would involve irreparable injury if lost. In this unityand concentration of its waters, the Pacific side of our continent differsentirely from the Atlantic side, where the waters of the Alleghanymountains are dispersed into many rivers, having their different entrancesinto the sea, and opening many lines of communication with the interior. 

The Pacific coast is equally different from that of the Atlantic. Thecoast of the Atlantic is low and open, indented with numerous bays, sounds, and river estuaries, accessible everywhere, and opening by manychannels into the heart of the country. The Pacific coast, on thecontrary, is high and compact, with few bays, and but one that opens intothe heart of the country. The immediate coast is what the seamen call_iron-bound_. A little within, it is skirted by two successive rangesof mountains, standing as ramparts between the sea and the interior of thecountry; and to get through which there is but one gate, and that narrowand easily defended. This structure of the coast, backed by these tworanges of mountains, with its concentration and unity of waters, gives tothe country an immense military strength, and will probably render Oregonthe 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 mostrare and singular feature--that of the Great Interior Basin, of which Ihave so often spoken, and the whole form and character of which I was soanxious to ascertain. Its existence is vouched for by such of the Americantraders and hunters as have some knowledge of that region; the structureof the Sierra Nevada range of mountains requires it to be there; and myown observations confirm it. Mr. Joseph Walker, who is so well acquaintedin these parts, informed me that, from the Great Salt lake west, there wasa succession of lakes and rivers which have no outlet to the sea, nor anyconnection with the Columbia, or with the Colorado of the Gulf ofCalifornia. He described some of these lakes as being large, with numerousstreams, and even considerable rivers falling into them. In fact, allconcur in the general report of these interior rivers and lakes; and, forwant of understanding the force and power of evaporation, which so soonestablishes an equilibrium between the loss and supply of waters, thefable of whirlpools and subterraneous outlets has gained belief, as theonly imaginable way of carrying off the waters which have no visibledischarge. The structure of the country would require this formation ofinterior lakes; for the waters which would collect between the Rockymountains and the Sierra Nevada, not being able to cross this formidablebarrier, nor to get to the Columbia or the Colorado, must naturallycollect into reservoirs, each of which would have its little system ofstreams and rivers to supply it. This would be the natural effect; andwhat I saw went to confirm it. The Great Salt lake is a formation of thiskind, and quite a large one; and having many streams, and one considerableriver, 400 or 500 miles long, falling into it. This lake and river I sawand 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 thatquarter, the rim of the Great Basin. Afterwards, along the eastern base ofthe Sierra Nevada, where we traveled for 42 days, I saw the line of lakesand rivers which lie at the foot of that Sierra; and which Sierra is thewestern rim of the Basin. In going down Lewis's fork and the mainColumbia, I crossed only inferior streams coming in from the left, such ascould draw their water from a short distance only; and I often saw themountains at their heads white with snow, --which, all accounts said, divided the waters of the _desert_ from those of the Columbia, andwhich could be no other than the range of mountains which form the rim ofthe Basin on its northern side. And in returning from California along theSpanish trail, as far as the head of the Santa Clara fork of the RioVirgen, I crossed only small streams making their way south to theColorado, or lost in sand, (as the Mo-hah-ve;) while to the left, loftymountains, their summits white with snow, were often visible, and whichmust have turned water to the north as well as to the south, and thusconstituted, on this part, the southern rim of the Basin. At the head ofthe Santa Clara fork, and in the Vegas de Santa Clara, we crossed theridge which parted the two systems of waters. We entered the Basin at thatpoint, and have traveled in it ever since; having its southeastern rim(the Wah-satch mountain) on the right, and crossing the streams which flowdown into it. The existence of the Basin is, therefore, an establishedfact 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 principallyin the Alta California; the demarcation latitude of 42° probably cutting asegment from the north part of the rim. Of its interior, but little isknown. It is called a _desert_, and, from what I saw of it, sterilitymay 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 lakesto hold the accumulated waters, or sands to swallow them up. In thiseastern part of the Basin, containing Sevier, Utah, and the Great Saltlakes, and the rivers and creeks falling into them, we know there is goodsoil and good grass, adapted to civilized settlements. In the westernpart, on Salmon Trout river, and some other streams, the same remark maybe made. 

The contents of this great Basin are yet to be examined. That it ispeopled, we know; but miserably and sparsely. From all that I heard andsaw, I should say that humanity here appeared in its lowest form, and inits 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, andlive in communities upon some lake or river that supplies fish, and fromwhich they repulse the miserable _Digger_. The rabbit is the largestanimal known in this desert; its flesh affords a little meat; and theirbag-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, andsix or eight feet high. It serves for fuel, for building material, forshelter to the rabbits, and for some sort of covering for the feet andlegs in cold weather. Such are the accounts of the inhabitants andproductions of the Great Basin; and which, though imperfect, must havesome foundation, and excite our desire to know the whole. 

The whole idea of such a desert, and such a people, is a novelty in ourcountry, and excites Asiatic, not American ideas. Interior basins, withtheir own systems of lakes and rivers, and often sterile, are commonenough in Asia; people still in the elementary state of families, livingin 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 Americasuch things are new and strange, unknown and unsuspected, and discreditedwhen related. But I flatter myself that what is discovered, though notenough to satisfy curiosity, is sufficient to excite it, and thatsubsequent explorations will complete what has been commenced. 

This account of the Great Basin, it will be remembered, belongs to theAlta California, and has no application to Oregon, whose capabilities mayjustify a separate remark. Referring to my journal for particulardescriptions, and for sectional boundaries between good and bad districts, I can only say, in general and comparative terms, that, in that branch ofagriculture which implies the cultivation of grains and staple crops, itwould be inferior to the Atlantic States, though many parts are superiorfor wheat; while in the rearing of flocks and herds it would claim a highplace. Its grazing capabilities are great; and even in the indigenousgrass now there, an element of individual and national wealth may befound. In fact, the valuable grasses begin within one hundred and fiftymiles of the Missouri frontier, and extend to the Pacific ocean. East ofthe Rocky mountains, it is the short curly grass, on which the buffalodelights to feed, (whence its name of buffalo, ) and which is still goodwhen dry and apparently dead. West of those mountains it is a largergrowth, in clusters, and hence called bunch-grass, and which has a secondor fall growth. Plains and mountains both exhibit them; and I have seengood pasturage at an elevation of ten thousand feet. In this spontaneousproduct the trading or traveling caravans can find subsistence for theiranimals; and in military operations any number of cavalry may be moved, and any number of cattle may be driven; and thus men and horses besupported on long expeditions, and even in winter, in the shelteredsituations. 

Commercially, the value of the Oregon country must be great, washed as itis by the North Pacific ocean--fronting Asia--producing many of theelements of commerce--mild and healthy in its climate--and becoming, as itnaturally will, a thoroughfare for the East India and China trade. 

Turning our faces once more eastward, on the morning of the 27th we leftthe Utah lake, and continued for two days to ascend the Spanish fork, which is dispersed in numerous branches among very rugged mountains, whichafford few passes, and render a familiar acquaintance with them necessaryto the traveler. The stream can scarcely be said to have a valley, themountains rising often abruptly from the water's edge; but a good trailfacilitated our traveling, and there were frequent bottoms, covered withexcellent grass. The streams are prettily and variously wooded; andeverywhere the mountain shows grass and timber. 

At our encampment on the evening of the 28th, near the head of one of thebranches we had ascended, strata of bituminous limestone were displayed inan escarpment on the river bluffs, in which were contained a variety offossil shells of new species. 

It will be remembered, that in crossing this ridge about 120 miles to thenorthward in August last, strata of fossiliferous rock were discovered, which have been referred to the oolitic period; it is probable that theserocks also belong to the same formation. 

A few miles from this encampment we reached the bed of the stream, andcrossing, by an open and easy pass, the dividing ridge which separates thewaters of the Great Basin from those of the Colorado, we reached the headbranches of one of its larger tributaries, which, from the decided colorof its waters, has received the name of White river. The snows of themountains were now beginning to melt, and all the little rivulets wererunning by in rivers, and rapidly becoming difficult to ford. Continuing afew miles up a branch of White river, we crossed a dividing ridge betweenits waters and those of _Uintah_. The approach to the pass, which isthe best known to Mr. Walker, was somewhat difficult for packs, andimpracticable for wagons--all the streams being shut in by narrow ravines, and the narrow trail along the steep hill-sides allowing the passage ofonly one animal at a time. From the summit we had a fine view of the snowyBear River range, and there were still remaining beds of snow on the coldsides of the hills near the pass. We descended by a narrow ravine, inwhich was rapidly gathered a little branch of the Uintah, and halted tonoon about 1, 500 feet below the pass, at an elevation, by the boilingpoint, of 6, 900 feet above the sea. 

The next day we descended along the river, and about noon reached a pointwhere three forks come together. Fording one of these with somedifficulty, we continued up the middle branch, which, from the color ofits waters, is named the Red river. The few passes, and extremely ruggednature of the country, give to it great strength, and secure the Utahsfrom the intrusion of their enemies. Crossing in the afternoon a somewhatbroken highland, covered in places with fine grasses, and with cedar onthe 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 itwithout any difficulty. It is a considerable branch, being spread out byislands, the largest arm being about a hundred feet wide, and the name itbears is probably that of some old French trapper. 

The next day we continued down the river, which we were twice obliged tocross; and, the water having risen during the night, it was almosteverywhere too deep to be forded. After traveling about sixteen miles, weencamped again on the left bank. 

I obtained here an occultation of _Scorpii_ at the dark limb of themoon, which gives for the longitude of the place 112° 18' 30", and thelatitude 40° 18' 53". 

JUNE. 

1st. --We left to-day the Duchesne fork, and, after traversing a brokencountry for about sixteen miles, arrived at noon at another considerablebranch, a river of great velocity, to which the trappers have improperlygiven the name of Lake fork. The name applied to it by the Indianssignifies great swiftness, and is the same which they use to express thespeed of a racehorse. It is spread out in various channels over severalhundred yards, and is everywhere too deep and swift to be forded. At thisseason of the year, there is an uninterrupted noise from the large rockswhich are rolled along the bed. After infinite difficulty, and the delayof a day, we succeeded in getting the stream bridged, and got over withthe loss of one of our animals. Continuing our route across a brokencountry, of which the higher parts were rocky and timbered with cedar, andthe lower parts covered with good grass, we reached, on the afternoon ofthe 3d, the Uintah fort, a trading-post belonging to Mr. A. Roubideau, onthe principal fork of the Uintah river. We found the stream nearly asrapid and difficult as the Lake fork, divided into several channels, whichwere too broad to be bridged. With the aid of guides from the fort, wesucceeded, with very great difficulty, in fording it, and encamped nearthe fort, which is situated a short distance above the junction of twobranches which make the river. 

By an immersion of the first satellite, (agreeing well with the result ofthe occultation observed at the Duchesne fork, ) the longitude of the postis 109° 56' 42", the latitude 40° 27' 45". 

It has a motley garrison of Canadian and Spanish _engagés_ andhunters, with the usual number of Indian women. We obtained a small supplyof sugar and coffee, with some dried meat and a cow, which was a veryacceptable change from the _pinoli_ on which we had subsisted forsome weeks past. I strengthened my party at this place by the addition ofAuguste Archambeau, an excellent voyageur and hunter, belonging to theclass of Carson and Godey. 

On the morning of the 5th we left the fort [Footnote: This fort wasattacked and taken by a band of the Utah Indians since we passed it, andthe men of the garrison killed--the women carried off. Mr. Roubideau, atrader of St. Louis, was absent, and so escaped the fate of the rest. ] andthe Uintah river, and continued our road over a broken country, whichafforded, however, a rich addition to our botanical collection; and, aftera march of 25 miles, were again checked by another stream, called Ashley'sfork, where we were detained until noon of the next day. 

An immersion of the second satellite gave for this place a longitude of109° 27' 07", the latitude, by observation, being 40° 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 wefound excellent and abundant grass, which we had not hitherto seen. A newspecies of _elymus_, which had a purgative and weakening effect uponthe animals, had occurred abundantly since leaving the fort. From thispoint, by observation 7, 300 feet above the sea, we had a view of Coloradobelow, shut up amongst rugged mountains, and which is the recipient of allthe streams we had been crossing since we passed the rim of the GreatBasin at the head of the Spanish fork. 

On the 7th we had a pleasant but long day's journey, through beautifullittle valleys and a high mountain country, arriving about evening at theverge of a steep and rocky ravine, by which we descended to "_Brown'shole_. " This is a place well known to trappers in the country, wherethe canons through which the Colorado runs expand into a narrow but prettyvalley, about 16 miles in length. The river was several hundred yards inbreadth, swollen to the top of its banks, near to which it was in manyplaces 15 to 20 feet deep. We repaired a skin-boat which had beenpurchased at the fort, and, after a delay of a day, reached the oppositebanks with much less delay than had been encountered on the Uintah waters. According to information, the lower end of the valley is the most easternpart of the Colorado; and the latitude of our encampment, which wasopposite to the remains of an old fort on the left bank of the river, was40° 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° east. Herethe river enters between lofty precipices of red rock, and the countrybelow is said to assume a very rugged character, the river and itsaffluents passing through canons which forbid all access to the water. This sheltered little valley was formerly a favorite wintering ground forthe 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, andour hunters killed several. The bottoms of a small stream called Vermilioncreek, which enters the left bank of the river a short distance below ourencampment, were covered abundantly with _F. Vermicularis_, and otherchenopodiaceous shrubs. From the lower end of Brown's hole we issued by aremarkably dry canon, fifty or sixty yards wide, and rising, as weadvanced, to the height of six or eight hundred feet. Issuing from this, and crossing a small green valley, we entered another rent of the samenature, still narrower than the other, the rocks on either side rising innearly vertical precipices perhaps 1, 500 feet in height. These places arementioned, to give some idea of the country lower down on the Colorado, towhich the trappers usually apply the name of a canon country. The canonopened upon a pond of water, where we halted to noon. Several flocks ofmountain sheep were here among the rocks, which rung with volleys ofsmall-arms. In the afternoon we entered upon an ugly, barren, and brokencountry, corresponding well with that we had traversed a few degreesnorth, on the same side of the Colorado. The Vermilion creek afforded usbrackish water and indifferent grass for the night. 

A few scattered cedar-trees were the only improvement of the country onthe following day; and at a little spring of bad water, where we halted atnoon, 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 ofthe Elk Head river, the principal fork of the Yampah river, commonlycalled 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 enteringwas constantly infested by war parties of the Sioux and other Indians, andis among the most dangerous war-grounds in the Rocky mountains; parties ofwhites 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 withgroves of the narrow-leaved cottonwood, _populus angustifolia_; withthese were thickets of willow, and _grain du boeuf_. Thecharacteristic plant along the river is _F. Vermicularis_, whichgenerally covers the bottoms; mingled with this are saline shrubs andartemisia. The new variety of grass which we had seen on leaving theUintah fort had now disappeared. The country on either side was sandy andpoor, scantily wooded with cedars, but the river bottoms afforded goodpasture. Three antelopes were killed in the afternoon, and we encamped alittle below a branch of the river, called St. Vrain's fork. A few milesabove was the fort at which Frapp's party had been defeated two yearssince; and we passed during the day a place where Carson had been firedupon 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 whichdivide the Pacific from the Mississippi waters; and entering here amongthe lower spurs or foot-hills of the range, the face of the country beganto improve with a magical rapidity. Not only the river bottoms, but thehills were covered with grass; and among the usual varied flora of themountain region, these were occasionally blue with the showy bloom of a_lupinus_. In the course of the morning we had the first glad view ofbuffalo, and welcomed the appearance of two old bulls with as much joy asif they had been messengers from home; and when we descended to noon onSt. Vrain's fork, an affluent of Green river, the hunters brought inmountain sheep and the meat of two fat bulls. Fresh entrails in the rivershowed us that there were Indians above, and at evening, judging it unsafeto encamp in the bottoms, which were wooded only with willow thickets, weascended 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 cowsnear the camp. A band of elk broke out of a neighboring grove; antelopeswere running over the hills; and on the opposite river-plains herds ofbuffalo were raising clouds of dust. The country here appeared morevariously stocked with game than any part of the Rocky mountains we hadvisited; and its abundance is owing to the excellent pasturage, and itsdangerous character as a war-ground. 

13th. --There was snow here near our mountain camp, and the morning wasbeautiful and cool. Leaving St. Vrain's fork, we took our way directlytowards the summit of the dividing ridge. The bottoms of the streams andlevel places were wooded with aspens; and as we neared the summit, weentered again the piny region. We had a delightful morning's ride, theground affording us an excellent bridle-path, and reached the summittowards mid-day, at an elevation of 8, 000 feet. With joy and exultation wesaw ourselves once more on the top of the Rocky mountains, and beheld alittle stream taking its course towards the rising sun. It was an affluentof the Platte, called Pullam's fork, and we descended to noon upon it. Itis a pretty stream, twenty yards broad, and bears the name of a trapperwho, some years since, was killed here by the _Gros Ventre_ Indians. 

Issuing from the pines in the afternoon we saw spread out before us thevalley of the Platte, with the pass of the Medicine Butte beyond, and someof the Sweet Water mountains; but a smoky haziness in the air entirelyobscured the Wind River chain. 

We were now about two degrees south of the South Pass, and our course homewould have been eastwardly; but that would have taken us over groundalready examined, and therefore without the interest that would excitecuriosity. Southwardly there were objects worthy to be explored, to wit:the approximation of the head-waters of three different rivers--thePlatte, the Arkansas, and the Grand River fork of the Rio Colorado of theGulf of California; the passages at the heads of these rivers; and thethree remarkable mountain coves, called Parks, in which they took theirrise. One of these Parks was, of course, on the western side of thedividing ridge; and a visit to it would once more require us to cross thesummit of the Rocky mountains to the west, and then to recross to theeast, making in all, with the transit we had just accomplished, threecrossings of that mountain in this section of its course. But no matter. The coves, the heads of the rivers, the approximation of their waters, thepracticability of the mountain passes, and the locality of the threeParks, were all objects of interest, and, although well known to huntersand trappers, were unknown to science and to history. We therefore changedour course, and turned up the valley of the Platte instead of going downit. 

We crossed several small affluents, and again made a fortified camp in agrove. The country had now became very beautiful--rich in water, grass, and game; and to these were added the charm of scenery and pleasantweather. 

14th. --Our route this morning lay along the foot of the mountain, over thelong low spurs which sloped gradually down to the river, forming the broadvalley of the Platte. The country is beautifully watered. In almost everyhollow ran a clear, cool, mountain stream; and in the course of themorning we crossed seventeen, several of them being large creeks, forty tofifty feet wide, with a swift current, and tolerably deep. These werevariously wooded with groves of aspen and cottonwood, with willow, cherry, and other shrubby trees. Buffalo, antelope, and elk, were frequent duringthe day; and, in their abundance; the latter sometimes reminded usslightly of the Sacramento valley. 

We halted at noon on Potter's fork--a clear and swift stream, forty yardswide, and in many places deep enough to swim our animals; and in theevening 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 nameof Beaver Dam creek, as now they are becoming sufficiently rare todistinguish by their names the streams on which they are found. In thismountain 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 countrypresenting much the same appearance, except that the grass was more scantyon the ridges, over which was spread a scrubby growth of sage; but stillthe bottoms of the creeks were broad, and afforded good pasture-grounds. We had an animated chase after a grizzly bear this morning, which we triedto lasso. Fuentes threw the lasso upon his neck, but it slipped off, andhe escaped into the dense thickets of the creek, into which we did notlike to venture. Our course in the afternoon brought us to the main Platteriver, here a handsome stream, with a uniform breadth of seventy yards, except where widened by frequent islands. It was apparently deep, with amoderate current, and wooded with groves of large willow. 

The valley narrowed as we ascended, and presently degenerated into agorge, through which the river passed as through a gate. We entered it, and found ourselves in the New Park--a beautiful circular valley of thirtymiles diameter, walled in all round with snowy mountains, rich with waterand with grass, fringed with pine on the mountain sides below the snowline, and a paradise to all grazing animals. The Indian name for itsignifies "cow lodge, " of which our own may be considered a translation;the enclosure, the grass, the water, and the herds of buffalo roaming overit, naturally presenting the idea of a park. We halted for the night justwithin the gate, and expected, as usual, to see herds of buffalo; but anArapahoe village had been before us, and not one was to be seen. Latitudeof the encampment 40° 52' 44". Elevation by the boiling point 7, 720 feet. 

It is from this elevated cove, and from the gorges of the surroundingmountains, and some lakes within their bosoms, that the Great Platte rivercollects its first waters, and assumes its first form; and certainly noriver could ask a more beautiful origin. 

16th. --In the morning we pursued our way through the Park, following aprincipal branch of the Platte, and crossing, among many smaller ones, abold stream, scarcely fordable, called Lodge Pole fork, and which issuesfrom a lake in the mountains on the right, ten miles long. In the eveningwe encamped on a small stream near the upper end of the Park. Latitude ofthe camp 40° 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, andsurprised and killed some buffalo. We fell into a broad and excellenttrail, made by buffalo, where a wagon would pass with ease; and, in thecourse 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. Thetrail led among the aspens, through open grounds, richly covered withgrass, and carried us over an elevation of about 9, 000 feet above thelevel of the sea. 

The country appeared to great advantage in the delightful summer weatherof the mountains, which we still continued to enjoy. Descending from thepass, we found ourselves again on the western waters; and halted to noonon the edge of another mountain valley, called the Old Park, in which isformed Grand river, one of the principal branches of the Colorado ofCalifornia. We were now moving with some caution, as, from the trail, wefound the Arapahoe village had also passed this way; as we were coming outof their enemy's country, and this was a war-ground, we were desirous toavoid them. After a long afternoon's march, we halted at night on a smallcreek, tributary to a main fork of Grand river, which ran through thisportion of the valley. The appearance of the country in the Old Park isinteresting, though of a different character from the New; instead ofbeing a comparative plain, it is more or less broken into hills, andsurrounded by the high mountains, timbered on the lower parts with quakingasp and pines. 

18th. --Our scouts, who were as usual ahead, made from a _butte_ thismorning the signal of Indians, and we rode up in time to meet a party ofabout 30 Arapahoes. They were men and women going into the hills--the menfor game, the women for roots--and informed us that the village wasencamped a few miles above, on the main fork of Grand river, which passesthrough the midst of the valley. I made them the usual presents; but theyappeared disposed to be unfriendly, and galloped back at speed to thevillage. Knowing that we had trouble to expect, I descended immediatelyinto the bottoms of Grand river, which were overflowed in places, theriver being up, and made the best encampment the ground afforded. We hadno time to build a fort, but found an open place among the willows, whichwas defended by the river on one side and the overflowed bottoms on theother. We had scarcely made our few preparations, when about 200 of themappeared 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 atruce, with something more than the usual amount of presents. About 20Sioux were with them--one of them an old chief, who had always beenfriendly to the whites. He informed me that, before coming down, a councilhad been held at the village, in which the greater part had declared forattacking us--we had come from their enemies, to whom we had doubtlessbeen carrying assistance in arms and ammunition; but his own party, withsome 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 toattack the trading parties which they meet in this region, considering allwhom 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 theirvillage, and I could not avoid accompanying them; but put several sloughsbetween us and their village, and forted strongly on the banks of theriver, which was everywhere rapid and deep, and over a hundred yards inbreadth. The camp was generally crowded with Indians; and though thebaggage was carefully watched and covered, a number of things were stolen. 

The next morning we descended the river for about eight miles, and halteda short distance above a canon, through which Grand river issues from thePark. Here it was smooth and deep, 150 yards in breadth, and its elevationat this point 6, 700 feet. A frame for the boat being very soon made, ourbaggage was ferried across; the horses, in the mean time, swimming over. Asouthern fork of Grand river here makes its junction, nearly opposite tothe branch by which we had entered the valley, and up this we continuedfor about eight miles in the afternoon and encamped in a bottom on theleft bank, which afforded good grass. At our encampment it was 70 to 90yards in breadth, sometimes widened by islands, and separated into severalchannels, 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, andnowhere fordable. A piny ridge of mountains, with bare rocky peaks, was onour right all the day, and a snowy mountain appeared ahead. We crossedmany foaming torrents with rocky beds, rushing down the river; and in theevening made a strong fort in an aspen grove. The valley had alreadybecome 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 sentfrom the village to look for Utahs in the Bayou Salade, (South Park;) andit being probable that they would visit our camp with the desire to returnon horseback, we were more than usually on the alert. 

Here the river diminished to 35 yards, and, notwithstanding the number ofaffluents we had crossed, was still a large stream, dashing swiftly by, with a great continuous fall, and not yet fordable. We had a delightfulride along a good trail among the fragrant pines; and the appearance ofbuffalo in great numbers indicated that there were Indians in the BayouSalade, (South Park, ) by whom they were driven out. We halted to noonunder the shade of the pines, and the weather was most delightful. Thecountry was literally alive with buffalo; and the continued echo of thehunters' rifles on the other side of the river for a moment made meuneasy, thinking perhaps they were engaged with Indians; but in a shorttime 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 anarrow ravine between high piny mountains, backed on both sides, butparticularly on the west, by a line of snowy ridges; but, after severalhours' ride, the stream opened out into a valley with pleasant bottoms. Inthe afternoon the river forked into three apparently equal streams; broadbuffalo trails leading up the left hand, and the middle branch, indicatinggood passes over the mountains; but up the right-hand branch, (which, inthe object of descending from the mountain by the main head of theArkansas, I was most desirous to follow, ) there was no sign of a buffalotrace. Apprehending from this reason, and the character of the mountains, which are known to be extremely rugged, that the right-hand branch led tono pass, I proceeded up the middle branch, which formed a flat valley-bottom between timbered ridges on the left and snowy mountains on theright, terminating in large _buttes_ of naked rock. The trail wasgood, and the country interesting; and at nightfall we encamped in an openplace among the pines, where we built a strong fort. The mountains exhibittheir usual varied growth of flowers, and at this place I noticed, amongothers, _thermopsis montana_, whose bright yellow color makes it ashowy plant. This has been a characteristic in many parts of the countrysince reaching the Uintah waters. With fields of iris were _aquilegiacoerulea_, violets, esparcette, and strawberries. 

At dark we perceived a fire in the edge of the pines, on the opposite sideof the valley. We had evidently not been discovered, and, at the report ofa gun, and the blaze of fresh fuel which was heaped on our fires, those ofthe strangers were instantly extinguished. In the morning, they were foundto be a party of six trappers, who had ventured out among the mountainsafter beaver. They informed us that two of the number with which they hadstarted had been already killed by the Indians--one of them but a few dayssince--by the Arapahoes we had lately seen, who had found him alone at acamp on this river, and carried off his traps and animals. As they weredesirous to join us, the hunters returned with them to the encampment, andwe continued up the valley, in which the stream rapidly diminished, breaking into small tributaries--every hollow affording water. At our noonhalt, the hunters joined us with the trappers. While preparing to startfrom their encampment, they found themselves suddenly surrounded by aparty of Arapahoes, who informed them that their scouts had discovered alarge Utah village in the Bayou Salade, (South Park, ) and that a largewar-party, consisting of almost every man in the village, except those whowere too old to go to war, were going over to attack them. The main bodyhad ascended the left fork of the river, which afforded a better pass thanthe branch we were on, and this party had followed our trail, in orderthat we might add our force to theirs. Carson informed them that we weretoo far ahead to turn back, but would join them in the bayou; and theIndians went off apparently satisfied. By the temperature of boilingwater, our elevation here was 10, 430 feet, and still the pine forestcontinued, 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 theshade at a small lake among the pines, and they made the dry branchescrack, as they broke through the woods. In a ride of about three-quartersof an hour, and having ascended perhaps 800 feet, we reached the _summitof the dividing ridge_, which would thus have an estimated height of11, 200 feet. Here the river spreads itself into small branches andsprings, 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 ashort distance opposite rose snowy mountains, whose summits were formedinto peaks of naked rock. We soon afterwards satisfied ourselves thatimmediately beyond these mountains was the main branch of the Arkansasriver--most probably heading directly with the little stream below us, which gathered its waters in the snowy mountains near by. Descriptions ofthe rugged character of the mountains around the head of the Arkansas, which their appearance amply justified, deterred me from making anyattempt to reach it, which would have involved a greater length of timethan now remained at my disposal. 

In about a quarter of an hour, we descended from the summit of the Passinto the creek below, our road having been very much controlled andinterrupted by the pines and springs on the mountain-side. Turning up thestream, we encamped on a bottom of good grass near its head, which gathersits waters in the dividing crest of the Rocky mountains, and, according tothe best information we could obtain, separated only by the rocky wall ofthe ridge from the head of the main Arkansas river. By the observations ofthe evening, the latitude of our encampment was 39° 20' 24", and south ofwhich; therefore, is the head of the Arkansas river. The stream on whichwe had encamped is the head of either the _Fontaine-qui-bouit_, abranch of the Arkansas, or the remotest head of the south fork of thePlatte, as which you will find it laid down on the map. But descending itonly through a portion of its course, we have not been able to settle thispoint satisfactorily. In the evening a band of buffalo furnished a littleexcitement, 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 bayouwas bordered by a mountainous range, crested with rocky and naked peaks;and below, it had a beautiful park-like character of pretty levelprairies, interspersed among low spurs, wooded openly with pine andquaking asp, contrasting well with the denser pines which swept around onthe mountain sides. Descending always the valley of the stream, towardsnoon we descried a mounted party descending the point of a spur, and, judging them to be Arapahoes--who, defeated or victorious, were equallydangerous to us, and with whom a fight would be inevitable--we hurried topost ourselves as strongly as possible on some willow islands in theriver. We had scarcely halted when they arrived, proving to be a party ofUtah women, who told us that on the other side of the ridge their villagewas fighting with the Arapahoes. As soon as they had given us thisinformation, they filled the air with cries and lamentations, which madeus 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 Utahshad very injudiciously placed their village, which, according to thewomen, numbered about 300 warriors. Advancing in the cover of the pines, the Arapahoes, about daylight, charged into the village, driving off agreat number of their horses, and killing four men; among them, theprincipal chief of the village. They drove the horses perhaps a milebeyond the village, to the end of a hollow, where they had previouslyforted, at the edge of the pines. Here the Utahs had instantly attackedthem in turn, and, according to the report of the women, were gettingrather the best of the day. The women pressed us eagerly to join withtheir people, and would immediately have provided us with the best horsesat 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 wasready to prey upon us that could. But we could not help feeling an unusualexcitement at being within a few hundred yards of a fight, in which 500men were closely engaged, and hearing the sharp cracks of their rifles. Wewere in a bad position, and subject to be attacked in it. Either partywhich 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 thesummit, to give us notice of the approach of Indians. As we passed by thevillage, which was immediately below us, horsemen were galloping to andfro, and groups of people were gathered around those who were wounded anddead, and who were being brought in from the field. We continued to presson, and, crossing another fork, which came in from the right, after havingmade fifteen miles from the village, fortified ourselves strongly in thepines, 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° E. By compass. This was a familiarobject, and it had for us the face of an old friend. At its foot were thesprings, where we had spent a pleasant day in coming out. Near it were thehabitations 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'sPeak; and taking a southeasterly direction, in about ten miles we crosseda gentle ridge, and, issuing from the South Park, found ourselves involvedamong the broken spurs of the mountains which border the great prairieplains. Although broken and extremely rugged, the country was veryinteresting, being well watered by numerous affluents to the Arkansasriver, 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 thebuffalo trails we had followed were dispersed among the hills, or crossedover into the more open valleys of other streams. 

During the day our road was fatiguing and difficult, reminding us much, byits steep and rocky character, of our traveling the year before among theWind River mountains; but always at night we found some grassy bottom, which afforded us a pleasant camp. In the deep seclusion of these littlestreams, we found always an abundant pasturage, and a wild luxuriance ofplants and trees. Aspens and pines were the prevailing timber: on thecreeks oak was frequent; but the narrow-leaved cottonwood, (_populusangustifolia_, ) of unusually large size, and seven or eight feet incircumference, was the principal tree. With these were mingled a varietyof shrubby trees, which aided to make the ravines almost impenetrable. 

After several days' laborious traveling, we succeeded in extricatingourselves from the mountains, and on the morning of the 28th encampedimmediately at their foot, on a handsome tributary to the Arkansas river. In the afternoon we descended the stream, winding our way along thebottoms, which were densely wooded with oak, and in the evening encampednear 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 recentlybeen committing some outrages at Bent's fort, killing stock and drivingoff horses, ) we arrived before sunset at the Pueblo, near the mouth of the_Fontaine-qui-bouit_ river, where we had the pleasure to find anumber of our old acquaintances. The little settlement appeared in athriving condition; and in the interval of our absence another had beenestablished on the river, some thirty miles above. 

On the 30th of June our cavalcade moved rapidly down the Arkansas, alongthe broad road which follows the river. 

JULY. 

On the 1st of July we arrived at Bent's fort, about 70 miles below themouth of the _Fontaine-qui-bouit_. As we emerged into view from thegroves 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 receivedby Mr. George Bent with a cordial welcome and a friendly hospitality, inthe enjoyment of which we spent several very agreeable days. We were nowin the region where our mountaineers were accustomed to live; and all thedangers 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 abroad wagon-road, and encamped about 20 miles below the fort. On the waywe met a very large village of Sioux and Cheyenne Indians, who, with theArapahoes were returning from the crossing of the Arkansas, where they hadbeen to meet the Kioway and Camanche Indians. A few days previous they hadmassacred a party of fifteen Delawares, whom they had discovered in a forton 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 Delawareson the frontier, from whom they expected retaliation; and we passedthrough them without any difficulty or delay. Dispersed over the plain inscattered bodies of horsemen, and family groups of women and children, with dog-trains carrying baggage, and long lines of pack-horses, theirappearance was picturesque and imposing. 

Agreeably to your instructions, which required me to complete, as far aspracticable, our examinations of the Kansas, I left at this encampment theArkansas river, taking a northeasterly direction across the elevateddividing 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 ortwo feet deep, flowing with a lively current on a sandy bed. Thediscolored and muddy appearance of the water indicated that it proceededfrom recent rains; and we are inclined to consider this a branch of theSmoky Hill river, although, possibly, it may be the Pawnee fork of theArkansas. 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 ofthe 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 severalhollows, or dry creeks with sandy beds, met together, forming the head ofa stream which afterwards proved to be the Smoky Hill fork of the Kansasriver. 

The next morning, as we were leaving our encampment, a number of ArapahoeIndians were discovered. They belonged to a war-party which had scatteredover the prairie in returning from an expedition against the Pawnees. 

As we traveled down the valley, water gathered rapidly in the sandy bedfrom many little tributaries; and at evening it had become a handsomestream, fifty to eighty feet in width, with a lively current in smallchannels, the water being principally dispersed among quicksands. 

Gradually enlarging, in a few days' march it became a river eighty yardsin breadth, wooded with occasional groves of cottonwood. Our road wasgenerally over level uplands bordering the river, which were closelycovered with a sward of buffalo-grass. 

On the 10th we entered again the buffalo range, where we had found theseanimals so abundant on our outward journey, and halted for a day amongnumerous herds, in order to make a provision of meat sufficient to carryus to the frontier. 

A few days afterwards, we encamped, in a pleasant evening, on a high riverprairie, the stream being less than a hundred yards broad. During thenight we had a succession of thunder-storms, with heavy and continuousrain, and towards morning the water suddenly burst over the bank, floodingthe bottoms and becoming a large river, five or six hundred yards inbreadth. The darkness of the night and incessant rain had concealed fromthe guard the rise of the water; and the river broke into the camp sosuddenly, that the baggage was instantly covered, and all our perishablecollections almost entirely ruined, and the hard labor of many monthsdestroyed in a moment. 

On the 17th we discovered a large village of Indians encamped at the mouthof a handsomely wooded stream on the right bank of the river. Readilyinferring, from the nature of the encampment, that they were PawneeIndians, and confidently expecting good treatment from a people whoreceive regularly an annuity from the government, we proceeded directly tothe village, where we found assembled nearly all the Pawnee tribe, whowere now returning from the crossing of the Arkansas, where they had metthe Kioway and Camanche Indians. We were received by them with theunfriendly rudeness and characteristic insolence which they never fail todisplay whenever they find an occasion for doing so with impunity. Thelittle that remained of our goods was distributed among them, but provedentirely insufficient to satisfy their greedy rapacity; and, after somedelay, and considerable difficulty, we succeeded in extricating ourselvesfrom the village, and encamped on the river about 15 miles below. 

[Footnote: In a recent report to the department, from Major Wharton, whovisited the Pawnee villages with a military force some months afterwards, it is stated that the Indians had intended to attack our party during thenight we remained at this encampment, but were prevented by theinterposition of the Pawnee Loups. ]

The country through which we had been traveling since leaving the Arkansasriver, for a distance of 260 miles, presented to the eye only a successionof far-stretching green prairies, covered with the unbroken verdure of thebuffalo-grass, and sparingly wooded along the streams with stragglingtrees and occasional groves of cottonwood; but here the country beganperceptibly to change its character, becoming a more fertile, wooded, andbeautiful region, covered with a profusion of grasses, and watered withinnumerable little streams, which were wooded with oak, large elms, andthe usual varieties of timber common to the lower course of the Kansasriver. 

As we advanced, the country steadily improved, gradually assimilatingitself in appearance to the northwestern part of the state of Missouri. The beautiful sward of the buffalo-grass, which is regarded as the bestand most nutritious found on the prairies, appeared now only in patches, being replaced by a longer and coarser grass, which covered the face ofthe country luxuriantly. The difference in the character of the grassesbecame suddenly evident in the weakened condition of our animals, whichbegan sensibly to fail as soon as we quitted the buffalo-grass. 

The river preserved a uniform breadth of eighty or a hundred yards, withbroad bottoms continuously timbered with large cottonwood-trees, amongwhich were interspersed a few other varieties. 

While engaged in crossing one of the numerous creeks which frequentlyimpeded and checked our way, sometimes obliging us to ascend them forseveral miles, one of the people (Alexis Ayot) was shot through the leg bythe accidental discharge of a rifle--a mortifying and painful mischance, to be crippled for life by an accident, after having nearly accomplishedin safety a long and eventful journey. He was a young man of remarkablygood and cheerful temper, and had been among the useful and efficient menof the party. 

After having traveled directly along its banks for 290 miles, we left theriver, where it bore suddenly off in a northwesterly direction, towardsits junction with the Republican fork of the Kansas, distant about 60miles; and, continuing our easterly course, in about 20 miles we enteredthe wagon-road from Santa Fé to Independence, and on the last day of Julyencamped again at the little town of Kansas, on the banks of the Missouririver. 

During our protracted absence of 14 months, in the course of which we hadnecessarily been exposed to great varieties of weather and of climate, notone case of sickness had ever occurred among us. 

Here ended our land journey; and the day following our arrival, we foundourselves on board a steamboat rapidly gliding down the broad Missouri. Our travel-worn animals had not been sold and dispersed over the countryto renewed labor, but were placed at good pasturage on the frontier, andare now ready to do their part in the coming expedition. 

On the 6th of August we arrived at St. Louis, where the party was finallydisbanded, a great number of the men having their homes in theneighborhood. 

Andreas Fuentes also remained here, having readily found employment forthe winter, and is one of the men engaged to accompany me the presentyear. 

Pablo Hernandez remains in the family of Senator Benton, where he is welltaken care of, and conciliates good-will by his docility, intelligence, and amiability. General Almonte, the Mexican minister at Washington, towhom 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 hewas until he got an education, for which he shows equal ardor andaptitude. 

Our Chinook Indian had his wish to see the whites fully gratified. Heaccompanied me to Washington, and, after remaining several months at theColumbia College, was sent by the Indian department to Philadelphia, where, among other things, he learned to read and write well, and speakthe English language with some fluency. He will accompany me in a few daysto the frontier of Missouri, where he will be sent with some one of theemigrant 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 ofthe Sacramento, in the northern part of that new territory. They are allon the public lands, with the exception of the portion belonging toMessrs. Forbes and Sutter. The region which they embrace and which lies, according to authentic reports, on both sides of the Sierra Nevada, mustbe "larger than the State of New York. " The mines, it is estimated, areworth a thousand millions of dollars. The most reliable information inregard to them may be found in the official reports communicated to theauthorities at Washington, by some of the American officers who havevisited the region. The following document is of this nature. The authorof it, Col. Mason, the military commander in California, speaks, as willbe seen, from observation, and the fullest confidence may be placed in hisaccount:--

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 Junelast to make a tour through the northern part of California. My principalpurpose, however, was to visit the newly-discovered gold "placer, " in theValley of the Sacramento. I had proceeded about forty miles, when I wasovertaken by an express, bringing me intelligence of the arrival atMonterey of the U. S. Ship Southampton, with important letters from Com. Shubrick and Lieut. Col. Barton. I returned at once to Monterey, anddispatched what business was most important, and on the 17th resumed myjourney. We reached San Francisco on the 20th, and found that all, ornearly all, its male inhabitants had gone to the mines. The town, which afew months before was so busy and thriving, was then almost deserted. 

On the evening of the 25th, the horses of the escort were crossed toSousoleto in a launch, and on the following day we resumed the journey byway of Bodega and Sonoma to Sutter's fort, where we arrived on the morningof the 2d of July. Along the whole route mills were lying idle, fields ofwheat were open to cattle and horses, houses vacant, and farms going towaste. At Sutter's there was more life and business. Launches weredischarging their cargoes at the river, and carts were hauling goods tothe fort, where already were established several stores, a hotel, &c. Captain Sutter had only two mechanics in his employ, (a wagon-maker and ablacksmith, ) whom he was then paying ten dollars a day. Merchants pay hima monthly rent of $100 per room; and while I was there, a two-story housein the fort was rented as a hotel for $500 a month. 

At the urgent solicitation of many gentlemen, I delayed there toparticipate in the first public celebration of our national anniversary atthat fort, but on the 5th resumed the journey and proceeded twenty-fivemiles 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 tentsand bush arbors; a store was erected, and several boarding shanties inoperation. The day was intensely hot, yet about two hundred men were atwork 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 rudemachine, 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 bottomis rounded, with small cleets nailed across. Four men are required to workthis machine: one digs the ground in the bank close by the stream; anothercarries it to the cradle and empties it on the grate; a third gives aviolent rocking motion to the machine; while a fourth dashes on water fromthe stream itself. 

The sieve keeps the coarse stones from entering the cradle, the current ofwater washes off the earthy matter, and the gravel is gradually carriedout at the foot of the machine, leaving the gold mixed with a heavy fineblack sand above the first cleets. The sand and gold mixed together arethen 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 thusemployed at the lower mines averaged $100 a day. The Indians, and thosewho have nothing but pans or willow baskets, gradually wash out the earthand separate the gravel by hand, leaving nothing but the gold mixed withsand, which is separated in the manner before described. The gold in thelower mines is in fine bright scales, of which I send several specimens. 

As we ascended the north branch of the American fork, the country becamemore broken and mountainous, and at the saw-mill, 25 miles above the lowerwashings, or 50 miles from Sutter's, the hills rise to about a thousandfeet above the level of the Sacramento plain. Here a species of pineoccurs which led to the discovery of the gold. Capt Sutter, feeling thegreat want of lumber, contracted in September last with a Mr. Marshall tobuild a saw-mill at that place. It was erected in the course of the pastwinter and spring--a dam and race constructed; but when the water was leton the wheel, the tail-race was found to be too narrow to permit the waterto escape with sufficient rapidity. Mr. Marshall, to save labor, let thewater directly into the race with a strong current, so as to wash it widerand deeper. He effected his purpose, and a large bed of mud and gravel wascarried to the foot of the race. 

One day Mr. Marshall, as he was walking down the race to this deposit ofmud, observed some glittering particles at its upper edge; he gathered afew, examined them, and became satisfied of their value. He then went tothe fort, told Capt. Sutter of his discovery, and they agreed to keep itsecret until a certain grist-mill of Sutter's was finished. It, however, got out, and spread like magic. Remarkable success attended the labors ofthe first explorers, and in a few weeks hundreds of men were drawnthither. At the time of my visit, but little over three months after thefirst discovery, it was estimated that upwards of four thousand peoplewere employed. At the mill there is a fine deposit or bank of gravel, which the people respect as the property of Captain Sutter, although hepretends to no right to it, and would be perfectly satisfied with thesimple promise of a pre-emption, on account of the mill which he hasbuilt there at considerable cost. Mr. Marshall was living near the mill, and informed me that many persons were employed above and below him; thatthey used the same machines at the lower washings, and that their successwas about the same--ranging from one to three ounces of gold per mandaily. This gold, too, is in scales a little coarser than those of thelower mines. 

From the mill Mr. Marshall guided me up the mountain on the opposite ornorth bank of the south fork, where, in the bed of small streams orravines, now dry, a great deal of coarse gold has been found. I there sawseveral parties at work, all of whom were doing very well; a great manyspecimens 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. Youwill perceive that some of the specimens accompanying this, holdmechanically pieces of quartz; that the surface is rough and evidentlymoulded in the crevice of a rock. This gold cannot have been carried farby water, but must have remained near where it was first deposited fromthe rock that once bound it. I inquired of many people if they hadencountered the metal in its matrix, but in every instance they said theyhad not, but that the gold was invariably mixed with washed gravel orlodged in the crevices of other rocks. All bore testimony that they hadfound gold in greater or less quantities in the numerous small gullies orravines that occur in that mountainous region. 

On the 7th of July I left the mill, and crossed to a stream emptying intothe American fork, three or four miles below the saw mill. I struck thisstream (now known as Weber's creek) at the washings of Sunol & Co. Theyhad about thirty Indians employed, whom they payed in merchandise. Theywere 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 smallspecimen, presented by this company, of their gold. From this point weproceeded up the stream about eight miles, where we found a great manypeople and Indians--some engaged in the bed of the stream, and others inthe small side valleys that put into it. These latter are exceedinglyrich, and two ounces were considered an ordinary yield for a day's work. Asmall gutter, not more than a hundred yards long by four feet wide and twoor 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, 000dollars worth of gold. Capt. Weber informed me that he knew that these twomen had employed four white men and about a hundred Indians, and that atthe 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 whichhad been taken upwards of $12, 000 worth of gold. Hundreds of similarravines to all appearances are as yet untouched. I could not have creditedthese 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 threeweeks in the neighborhood, and showed me in bags and bottles over $2, 000worth of gold; and Mr. Lyman, a gentleman of education and worthy of everycredit, said he had been engaged with four others, with a machine, on theAmerican fork, just below Sutter's mill; that they worked eight days, andthat his share was at the rate of $50 a day; but hearing that others weredoing better at Weber's place they had removed there, and were then on thepoint of resuming operations. I might tell of hundreds of similarinstances; but to illustrate how plentiful the gold was in the pockets ofcommon laborers, I will mention a simple occurrence which took place in mypresence when I was at Weber's store. This store was nothing but an arborof bushes, under which he had exposed for sale goods and groceries suitedto his customers. A man came in, picked up a box of Seidlitz powders andasked the price. Captain Weber told him it was not for sale. The manoffered 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 nowafford 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, whichcontain more or less gold. Those that have been worked are barelyscratched; and although thousands of ounces have been carried away, I donot consider that a serious impression has been made upon the whole. Everyday was developing new and richer deposits; and the only impression seemedto be, that the metal would be found in such abundance as seriously todepreciate in value. 

On the 8th of July I returned to the lower mines, and on the following dayto Sutter's, where, on the 19th. I was making preparations for a visit tothe Feather, Yubah, and Bear rivers, when I received a letter fromCommander A. R. Long, United States Navy, who had just arrived at SanFrancisco from Mazatlan, with a crew for the sloop-of-war Warren, withorders to take that vessel to the squadron at La Paz. Capt. Long wrote tome that the Mexican Congress had adjourned without ratifying the treaty ofpeace, that he had letters from Commodore Jones, and that his orders wereto sail with the Warren on or before the 20th of July. In consequence ofthis I determined to return to Monterey, and accordingly arrived here onthe 17th of July. Before leaving Sutter's I satisfied myself that goldexisted in the bed of the Feather river, in the Yubah and Bear, and inmany of the smaller streams that lie between the latter and the Americanfork; also that it had been found in the Cosummes to the south of theAmerican fork. In each of these streams, the gold is found in smallscales, whereas in the intervening mountains it occurs in coarser lumps. 

Mr. Sinclair, whose rancho is three miles above Sutter's on the north sideof the American, employs about fifty Indians on the north fork, not farfrom its junction with the main stream. He had been engaged about fiveweeks when I saw him, and up to that time his Indians had used simplyclosely 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 receivedin payment for goods $36, 000 (worth of this gold) from the 1st of May tothe 10th of July. Other merchants had also made extensive sales. Largequantities of goods were daily sent forward to the mines, as the Indians, heretofore so poor and degraded, have suddenly become consumers of theluxuries of life. I before mentioned that the greater part of the farmersand rancheros had abandoned their fields to go to the mines. This is notthe case with Capt. Sutter, who was carefully gathering his wheat, estimated at 40, 000 bushels. Flour is already worth at Sutter's $36 abarrel, and soon will be fifty. Unless large quantities of breadstuffsreach the country, much suffering will occur; but as each man is now ableto pay a large price, it is believed the merchants will bring from Chiliand Oregon a plentiful supply for the coming winter. 

The most moderate estimate I could obtain from men acquainted with thesubject, was, that upwards of four thousand men were working in the golddistrict, of whom more than one-half were Indians; and that from $30, 000to $50, 000 worth of gold, if not more, was daily obtained. The entire golddistrict, with very few exceptions of grants made some years ago by theMexican authorities, is on land belonging to the United States. It was amatter of serious reflection with me, how I could secure to the Governmentcertain rents and fees for the privilege of procuring this gold; but uponconsidering the large extent of country, the character of the peopleengaged, and the small scattered force at my command, I resolved not tointerfere but to permit all to work freely, unless broils and crimesshould call for interferance. I was surprised to learn that crime of anykind was very unfrequent, and that no thefts or robberies had beencommitted in the gold district. 

All live in tents, in bush arbors, or in the open air; and men havefrequently 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 ofthings should continue to exist. Conflicting claims to particular spots ofground may cause collisions, but they will be rare, as the extent ofcountry is so great, and the gold so abundant, that for the present thereis room enough for all. Still the Government is entitled to rents for thisland, and immediate steps should be devised to collect them, for thelonger it is delayed the more difficult it will become. One plan I wouldsuggest is, to send out from the United States surveyors with highsalaries, bound to serve specified periods. 

A superintendent to be appointed at Sutter's Fort, with power to grantlicenses to work a spot of ground--say 100 yards square--for one year, ata rent of from 100 to 1, 000 dollars, at his discretion; the surveyors tomeasure the ground, and place the rentor in possession. 

A better plan, however, will be to have the district surveyed and sold atpublic auction to the highest bidder, in small parcels--say from 20 to 40acres. In either case, there will be many intruders, whom for years itwill be almost impossible to exclude. 

The discovery of these vast deposits of gold has entirely changed thecharacter of Upper California. Its people, before engaged in cultivatingtheir small patches of ground, and guarding their herds of cattle and, horses, have all gone to the mines, or are on their way thither. Laborersof every trade have left their work benches, and tradesmen their shops. Sailors desert their ships as fast as they arrive on the coast, andseveral vessels have gone to sea with hardly enough hands to spread asail. Two or three are now at anchor in San Francisco with no crew onboard. Many desertions, too, have taken place from the garrisons withinthe influence of these mines; twenty-six soldiers have deserted from thepost of Sonoma, twenty-four from that of San Francisco, and twenty-fourfrom Monterey. For a few days the evil appeared so threatening, that greatdanger existed that the garrisons would leave in a body; and I refer youto my orders of the 25th of July, to show the steps adopted to met thiscontingency. I shall spare no exertions to apprehend and punish deserters, but I believe no time in the history of our country has presented suchtemptations to desert as now exist in California. 

The danger of apprehension is small, and the prospect of high wagescertain; pay and bounties are trifles, as laboring men at the mines cannow earn in _one day_ more than double a soldier's pay and allowancesfor a month, and even the pay of a lieutenant or captain cannot hire aservant. A carpenter or mechanic would not listen to an offer of less thanfifteen or twenty dollars a day. Could any combination of affairs try aman's fidelity more than this? I really think some extraordinary mark offavor should be given to those soldiers who remain faithful to their flagthroughout this tempting crisis. No officer can now live in California onhis pay, money has so little value; the prices of necessary articles ofclothing and subsistence are so exorbitant and labor so high, that to hirea cook or servant has become an impossibility, save to those who areearning from thirty to fifty dollars a day. This state of things cannotlast for ever. Yet from the geographical position of California, and thenew character it has assumed as a mining country, prices of labor willalways be high, and will hold out temptations to desert. I therefore haveto report, if the Government wish to prevent desertions here on the partof men, and to secure zeal on the part of officers, their pay must beincreased very materially. Soldiers, both of the volunteers and regularservice, discharged in this country, should be permitted at once to locatetheir land warrants in the gold district. 

Many private letters have gone to the United States giving accounts of thevast quantity of gold recently discovered, and it may be a matter ofsurprise why I have made no report on this subject at an earlier date. Thereason is, that I could not bring myself to believe the reports that Iheard of the wealth of the gold district until I visited it myself. I haveno hesitation now in saying that there is more gold in the country drainedby the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers than will pay the cost of thepresent war with Mexico a hundred times over. No capital is required toobtain this gold, as the laboring man wants nothing but his pick andshovel and tin pan, with which to dig and wash the gravel; and manyfrequently pick gold out of the crevices of rocks with their butcherknives in pieces from one to six ounces. 

Mr. Dye, a gentleman residing in Monterey, and worthy of every credit, hasjust returned from Feather river. He tells me that the company to which hebelonged 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 manfrom the mines who does not show his two, three, or four pounds of gold. Asoldier of the artillery company returned here a few days ago from themines, having been absent on furlough twenty days. He made by trading andworking during that time $1500. During these twenty days he was travelingten or eleven days, leaving but a week, in which he made a sum of moneygreater than he receives in pay, clothes, and rations during a wholeenlistment of five years. These statements appear incredible, but they aretrue. 

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 ithad been found near the Great Salt lake by some of his fraternity. Nearlyall the Mormons are leaving California to go to the Salt lake, and thisthey surely would not do unless they were sure of finding gold there inthe 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 putsoff from the Sierra Nevada, (see Fremont's map, ) the same in which thepresent mines occur. There is, therefore, every reason to believe, that inthe intervening spaces of 500 miles, (entirely unexplored, ) there must bemany hidden and rich deposits. The "placer" gold is now substituted as thecurrency of this country; in trade it passes freely at $16 per ounce; asan article of commerce its value is not yet fixed. The only purchase Imade was of the specimen No. 7, which I got of Mr. Neligh at $12 theounce. That is about the present cash value in the country, although ithas been sold for less. The great demand for goods and provisions made bysudden development of wealth, has increased the amount of commerce at SanFrancisco very much, and it will continue to increase. 

I would recommend that a mint be established at some eligible point of theBay of San Francisco; and that machinery, and all the necessary apparatusand workmen, be sent out by sea. These workmen must be bound by highwages, and even bonds, to secure their faithful services, else the wholeplan may be frustrated by their going to the mines as soon as they arrivein California. If this course be not adopted, gold to the amount of manymillions of dollars will pass yearly to other countries, to enrich theirmerchants and capitalists. Before leaving the subject of mines, I willmention that on my return from the Sacramento, I touched at New Almoder, the quicksilver mine of Mr. Alexander Forbes, Consul of Her BritannicMajesty at Tepic. This mine is in a spur of the mountains, 1000 feet abovethe level of the Bay of San Francisco, and is distant in a southerndirection from the Puebla de San José about twelve miles. The ore(cinnabar) occurs in a large vein dipping at a strong angle to thehorizon. Mexican miners are employed in working it, by driving shafts andgalleries 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 themine down to a valley well supplied with wood and water, in which thefurnaces are situated. The furnaces are of the simplest construction--exactly like a common bake-oven, in the crown of which is inserted awhaler's frying-kettle; another inverted kettle forms the lid. From a holein the lid a small brick channel leads to an apartment or chamber, in thebottom of which is inserted a small iron kettle. The chamber has achimney. 

In the morning of each day the kettles are filled with the mineral (brokenin small pieces) mixed with lime; fire is then applied and kept up allday. The mercury is volatilized, passes into the chamber, is condensed onthe sides and bottom of the chamber, and flows into the pot prepared forit. No water is used to condense the mercury. 

During a visit I made last spring, four such ovens were in operation, andyielded in the two days I was there 656 pounds of quicksilver, worth atMazatlan $180 per pound. Mr. Walkinshaw, the gentleman now in charge ofthis mine, tells me that the vein is improving, and that he can afford tokeep his people employed even in these extraordinary times. The mine isvery valuable of itself, and will become the more so as mercury isextensively used in obtaining gold. It is not at present used inCalifornia for that purpose, but will be at some future time. When I wasat this mine last spring, other parties were engaged in searching forveins, but none have been discovered worth following up, although theearth in that whole range of hills is highly discolored, indicating thepresence of this ore. I send several beautiful specimens, properlylabelled. The amount of quicksilver in Mr. Forbes' vats on the 15th ofJuly 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 inthe vicinity of those I visited. 

Some of the specimens of gold accompanying this were presented fortransmission to the Department by the gentlemen named below. The numberson the topographical sketch corresponding to the labels of the respectivespecimens, 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 itsaddress, in charge of Lieut. L. Loeser, 3d Artillery, bearer ofdispatches, who sailed in the schooner Lambayecana, from Monterey, Aug. 30, 1848, bound for Payta, Peru. Lieut. Loeser bears, in addition to thespecimens mentioned in the foregoing letter, a tea-caddy containing twohundred 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 afair sample of the gold obtained from the mines of the Sacramento. It is amixture, 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 ofCalifornia is remarkably pure. The editor of the Buffalo CommercialAdvertiser, under date of December 20th, 1848, says:--

"A small quantity of California gold was shown us this morning. It was ingrains, about the size and shape of flax seed. Altogether there was halfan 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 daysago he received advices that his goods had been sold, and the proceedsremitted in gold dust to New York. The receipts from the mint show itsgreat 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 experiencedsmelter and refiner, Mr. John Warwick, of New York city, that the golddust 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, sentme, and the result shows that it is fully equal to any found in ourSouthern gold mines. 

I return you 103/4 grains out of the 12 which I have tested--the value ofwhich is 45 cents. It is 211/2 carats fine--within half a carat of thequality of English sovereigns or American Eagles, and is almost ready togo to the mint. 

The finest gold metal we get is from Africa, which is 221/2 to 23 caratsfine. In Virginia we have mines where the quality of the gold is muchinferior--some of it as low as 19 carats, and in Georgia the mines produceit nearly 22 carats fine. 

The gold of California which I have now assayed, is fully equal to that ofany, and much superior to some produced from the mines in our SouthernStates. "

* * * * *

PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY OF CALIFORNIA. 

Whatever appertains to California, the new El Dorado of the southwest, isinteresting to Americans and indeed to the whole civilized world. Thefollowing brief account, therefore, of its physical geography, compiledfrom authentic sources and carefully condensed, will readily receive theattention of the inquiring mind:

"Upper California extends, upon the Pacific, from the 32d parallel oflatitude, about seven hundred miles north-westward to Oregon, from whichit is divided, nearly in the course of the 42d parallel--that is in thelatitude of Boston--by a chain of highlands called the Snowy Mountains;the Sierra Nevada of the Spaniards. Its boundaries on the west are not, asyet, politically determined by the Mexican government; nor do geographersagree with regard to natural limits in that direction. By some, it isconsidered as embracing only the territory between the Pacific and thesummit of the mountains which border the western side of the continent:others extend its limits to the Colorado; while others include in it, andothers again exclude from it, the entire regions drained by that river. The only portion occupied by Mexicans, or of which any distinct accountshave been obtained, is that between the great chain of mountains and theocean; the country east of that ridge to the Colorado appears to be anuninhabitable desert. 

"Northward from the Peninsula, or Lower California, the great western-mostchain of mountains continues nearly parallel with the Pacific coast, tothe 34th degree of latitude, under which rises Mount San Bernardin, one ofthe highest peaks in California, about forty miles from the ocean. Furthernorth the coast turns more to the west, and the space between it and thesummit line of the mountains becomes wider, so as to exceed eighty milesin some places; the intermediate region being traversed by lines of hills, or smaller mountains, connected with the main range. The principal ofthese inferior ridges extends from Mount San Bernardin north-westward toits termination on the south side of the entrance of the Bay of SanFranciso, near the 38th degree of latitude, where it is called the SanBruno Mountains. Between this range and the coast run the San BarbaraMountains, 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 ofthe San Bruno mountains is the Bolbones ridge, bordering the Bay of SanFrancisco on the east; and still further in the same direction are otherand much higher lines of highlands, stretching from the great chain andterminating in capes on the Pacific. 

"The southern part of Upper California, between the Pacific and the greatwesternmost chain of mountains, is very hot and dry, except during a shorttime in winter. Further north the wet season increases in length, andabout the Bay of San Francisco the rains are almost constant from Novemberto April, the earth being moistened during the remainder of the year byheavy dews and fogs. Snow and ice are sometimes seen in the winter on theshores of the bay, but never further south, except on the mountain tops. The whole of California is, however, subject to long droughts. " Heavyrains are of rare occurrence, and two years without any is not unusual;notwithstanding which, vegetation does not suffer to the extent that mightbe inferred, because, in the first place, many small streams descend fromthe mountain ranges, supplying the means of both natural and artificialirrigation; and, next, that the country near the coast is favored with adiurnal land and sea breeze; and, from the comparatively low temperatureof the sea, the latter is always in summer accompanied with fogs, in thelatter part of the night, and which are dissipated by the morning's sun, but serve to moisten the pastures and nourish a somewhat peculiarvegetation abounding in beautiful flowers. 

"Among the valleys of Upper California are many streams, some of whichdischarge large quantities of water in the rainy season; but no river isknown to flow through the maritime ridge of mountains from the interior tothe Pacific, except perhaps the Sacramento, falling into the Bay of SanFrancisco, though several are thus represented on the maps. The valleysthus watered afford abundant pasturage for cattle, with which they arecovered; California, however, contains but two tracts of country capableof supporting large numbers of inhabitants, which are that west of Mt. SanBernardin, about the 34th degree of latitude, and that surrounding the Bayof 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 ofreal defined political sections. The Pacific ocean limits on the west, andby treaty, N. Lat. 42° on the north; but inland and southward, it is invain to seek any definite boundary. In order, however, to give as distincta view as the nature of the case will admit, let us adopt the mouth of theColorado and Gila, or the head of the Gulf of California, as a point onthe southern boundary of Upper California. The point assumed coincidesvery nearly with N. Lat. 32° and, if adopted, would give to that country abreadth of ten degrees of latitude or in round numbers 800 statute milesfrom south to north. As already, stated, the Pacific Ocean bounds thiscountry on the west, and lat. 42° on the north. To separate it on the eastfrom New Mexico, we must assume the mountain chain of Sierra Madre, orAnahuac, 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 500miles, and open the northern side to rather above 800 miles; giving a meanbreadth of 650 miles. The area, for all general purposes, may be safelytaken at 500, 000 square miles. The general slope or declination of thisgreat region is westward, towards the Pacific and Gulf of California. "

"The climate of the western slope of North America has a warmth tendegrees at least higher than the eastern, upon similar latitude. The causeof this difference is the course of prevailing winds in the temperatezones of the earth, from the western points. Thus the winds on the westernside of the continent are from the ocean, and on the eastern from theland. 

"The soil is as variable as the face of the country. On the coast range ofhills there is little to invite the agriculturist, except in some vales ofno great extent. The hills are, however, admirably adapted for raisingherds 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 spreadover 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 thetropical climates. It likewise offers pasture grounds for cattle. Thisregion 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 althoughseveral small streams and lakes serve to water it, yet in dry seasons ordroughts, not only the crops but the herbage also suffers extremely, andthe cattle are deprived of food. " The most extensive portion of UpperCalifornia--the inland plain between the California and the Colorado rangeof mountains--is an arid waste, destitute of the requisites for supplyingthe wants of man. This plain is a waste of sand, with a few detachedmountains (some of which rise to the region of perpetual snow, ) whosepositions are unknown; from these flow small streams that are soon lost inthe sand. A few Indians are scattered over the plain, the most miserableobjects in creation. "

The climate is very peculiar, the thermometer on the coast ranging ashigh, on the average, in winter as in summer. Indeed, summer is really thecoldest and most disagreeable part of the year, owing to the north-westwinds which frequently prevail during that season. As you recede from thecoast, however, the climate undergoes a great change for the better. AtSan Juan, thirty miles from the coast, is one of the most delightfulclimates in the world. The two principal rivers in Upper California arethe Sacramento and the San Joaquim. There are, however, many smallerstreams flowing through the different valleys, which serve, during the dryseason, 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 milesof the Gold Mines, and one of the largest and most magnificent harbors inthe world. 

The yield of wheat, small grain, and vegetables, is said to be great, andvery remarkable, but, as agriculture cannot succeed in Upper California, but by irrigation, it has hitherto happened that it has been principallyoccupied as a pastoral country--as costing less labor to rear cattle, forwhich it is only necessary to provide keepers, and have them marked. Thenumerous animals which are there slaughtered for little more than theirhides and tallow, do not putrify and become offensive as they would inother 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 theconstruction of garden fences &c. 

"The area of Upper California is about 500, 000 square miles, and thepopulation, exclusive of Indians scattered over this extent, as follows:

Californians descended from Spain, ----------------- 4000Americans from United States, ---------------------- 360English, Scotch, and Irish, ------------------------ 300European Spaniards, -------------------------------- 80French and Canadians, ------------------------------ 80Germans, Italians, Portugese, and Sandwich Islanders, 90Mexicans, ------------------------------------------ 90 ____Total---------------------------------------------- 5000

"Upper California is, on the whole, admirably fitted for colonization. This province presents the greatest facilities for raising cattle, forcultivating corn, plants, and for the grape; it might contain twentymillions of inhabitants; and its ports are a point of necessarycommunication for vessels going from China and Asia to the western coastsof North America. 

"It is beyond doubt, that so soon as an intelligent and laboriouspopulation is established there, this country will occupy an elevated rankin the commercial scale; it would form the _entrepôt_ where thecoasts of the great ocean would send their products, and would furnish thegreatest 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, andto many groups of Polynesia--such as the Sandwich isles, the Marquesas, and Tahiti. "

"The peninsula of Lower California, extending from Cape San Lucas to theBay of Todos Santos, in lat. 32° N. , on the Pacific, and to the mouth ofthe 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 arein action; but hot springs of water and bitumen, and frequent earthquakes, and the scorched face of the whole region, demonstrate it to be a meremass upheaved from the sea, and burned to cinders. The range of mountainsthat comes up through Lower California, runs on northwardly into UpperCalifornia, 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 inthe Upper as in the Lower Province. 

"Some portions of this range are lofty. That part lying east and southeastof El Pueblo de los Angelos, is tipped with perpetual snows. But thegreater part of it presents a base covered up to more than half of thewhole elevation with pine and cedar forests; the remaining height beingcomposed of bare, dark, glistening rocks, lying in confused masses, orturreted in the manner observed on the Black Hills in the Great PrairieWilderness---spires, towers, and battlements, lifted up to heaven, amongwhich the white feathery clouds of beautiful days rest shining in themellow sun. 

"The Snowy Mountain range is perhaps the boldest and most peculiar of theCalifornia highlands. Its western terminus is Cape Mendocino, a bold snow-capped headland, bending over the Pacific in 40° north latitude. Itswestern terminus is in the Wind River Mountains, latitude 42° N. , aboutseven hundred miles from the sea. Its peculiarity consists in what may betermed its confused geological character. Near the sea its rocks areprimitive, its strata regular. A hundred miles from the sea where thePresident's range crosses it, everything is fused--burned; and at thedistance of seventy miles northeastwardly from the Bay of San Francisco, aspur comes off with a lofty peak, which pours out immense quantities oflava, and shoots up a flame so broad and bright as to be seen at sea, andto produce distinct shadows at eighty miles' distance. Here is anextensive tract of this range which has been burned, and whose strata havebeen torn from their natural positions; displaying an amalgamated mass ofprimitive rock _ex loco_, mingled with various descriptions ofvolcanic remains. From this point eastward, it is a broken irregular chainof peaks and rifted collateral ranges, and spurs running off northwardlyand southwardly, some of which are primitive and others volcanic. 

"Another range of mountains which deserves notice in this place, is thatwhich bounds the valley of the San Joaquim on the east. This is a wide andtowering range. It is in fact a continuation of the President's range, andpartakes very strongly of its volcanic character. That part of it whichlies 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 allthe President's range. Mountains of great size are piled around it, butthey appear like molehills beside that veteran mount. Its vast peak towersover them all several thousand feet, a glittering cone of ice. 

"All over the Californias, the traveler finds evidences of volcanicaction. Far in the interior, among the deserts; in the streams; in theheights; in the plains; everywhere, are manifestations of the fact, thatthe current of subterranean fire which crossed the Pacific, throwing upthat line of islands lying on the south of the Sea of Kamschatka, andpassed down the continent, upheaving the Oregon territory, did also bringup from the bed of the ocean the Californias. 

"The peninsula, or lower California, which extends from Cape San Lucas inN. Lat. 22° 48', to the Bay of Todos Santos in lat. 32° N. , is a pile ofbarren, volcanic mountains, with very few streams, and still fewer spotsof ground capable of sustaining vegetation. The territory lying north andsouth of the Colorado of the west, and within the boundaries of theCalifornias, is a howling desolation. 

"From the highlands near the mouth of the Rio Colorado, a wild andsomewhat interesting scene opens. In the east appears a line of mountainsof a dark hue, stretching down the coast of the Gulf as far as the eye canreach. These heights are generally destitute of trees; but timber grows insome of the ravines. The general aspect, however, is far from pleasing. There is such a vastness of monotonous desolation; so dry, so blisteredwith volcanic fires; so forbidding to the wants of thirsting and hungeringmen, that one gladly turns his eye upon the water, the _Mar deCortez_, the Gulf of California. The Colorado, two and a half miles inwidth, rushes into this Gulf with great force, lashing as it goes thesmall islands lying at its mouth, and for many leagues around the watersof the Gulf are discolored by its turbulent flood. On the west, sweep awaythe mountains of Lower California. These also are a thirsty mass of burnedrocks, so dry that vegetation finds no resting-place among them. 

"That province of Lower California varies from thirty to one hundred andfifty miles in width, a superficial extent almost equal to that of GreatBritain; and yet on account of its barrenness, never will, from theproducts of the soil, maintain five hundred thousand people in a state ofcomfort, ordinarily found in the civilized condition. Every few yearstornadoes sweep over the country with such violence, and bearing with themsuch floods of rain, that whatever of soil has been in any mannerpreviously formed, is swept into the sea. So that even those little nooksamong the mountains, where the inhabitants from time to time make theirfields, and task the vexed earth for a scanty subsistence, are liable tobe laid bare by the torrents. In case the soil chance to be lodged in someother dell, before it reach the Ocean or the Gulf, and the people followit to its new location, they find perhaps no water there and cannotcultivate it. Consequently they are often driven by dreadful want to someother point in quest of sustenance, where they may not find it, and perishamong the parched highlands. The mean range of temperature in the wholecountry in the summer season is from 60° to 74° Fahrenheit. The rains fallin the winter months; are very severe, and of short duration. During theremainder of the year the air is dry and clear; and the sky more beautifulthan the imagination can conceive. 

"The range of mountains occupying the whole interior of this country, varyin height from one to five thousand feet above the level of the sea. Theyare almost bare of all verdure, mere brown piles of barrenness, sprinkledhere 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 alittle soil. These, if watered by springs or streams, are beautiful andproductive. There are also a few places near the coast which are welladapted to tillage and pasturage. 

"But the principal difficulty with this region, is one common to allcountries of volcanic, origin, --a scarcity of water. The porousness of therocks allows it to pass under ground to the sea. Consequently one findsfew streams and springs in Lower California. From the Cape San Lucas tothe mouth of the Colorado, six hundred miles, there are only two streamsemptying into the Gulf. One of these is called San Josef del Cabo. Itpasses through the plantations of the Mission bearing the same name, anddischarges itself into the bay of San Barnabas. The other is the Mulege, which waters the Mission of Santa Rosalia, and enters the Gulf in latitude27° N. These are not navigable. The streams on the ocean coast, also, arefew and small. Some of them are large enough to propel light machinery, orirrigate considerable tracts of land, but none of them are navigable. Inthe interior are several large springs, which send out abundant currentsalong the rocky beds of their upper courses; but when they reach the loosesands and porous rocks of the lower country, they sink and enter the seathrough subterranean channels. A great misfortune it is too, that thelands which border those portions of these streams which run above theground, consist of barren rocks. Where springs, however, and arable landoccur together, immense fertility is the consequence. There is somevariety of climate on the coasts, which it may be well to mention. On thePacific shore the temperature is rendered delightfully balmy by the seabreezes, and the humidity which they bring along with them. Fahrenheit'sthermometer ranges on this coast, during the summer, between fifty-eightand seventy-one degrees. In the winter months, while the rains arefalling, it sinks as low as fifty degrees above zero. On the Gulf coastthere is a still greater variation. While at the Cape, the mercury standsbetween sixty and seventy degrees, near the head of the Gulf it is down tothe freezing point. 

"These isolated facts, in regard to the great territory underconsideration, will give the reader as perfect an idea of the surface andagricultural capacities of Lower California as will be here needed. 

* * * * *

DIFFERENT ROUTES TO CALIFORNIA. 

There are four different routes to California from the United States. Oneis from New York to Vera Cruz, thence across Mexico by the_Diligencia_, to Acapulco on the Pacific, where all the northernbound vessels touch. This route would be preferable to all others, were itnot for the fact that the road from Vera Cruz to Acapulco is infested withrobbers. 

Another route is by steam around Cape Horn--a long voyage, though perhapsthe cheapest route. It should be performed in our winter, when it issummer in the Southern Hemisphere and consequently warmer at Cape Hornthan at any other season of the year. The fare on this route by steam isabout $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 asfollows:

From New York to Chagres (by steam)---------- $150From Chagres to Panama, across the Isthmus--- 20From Panama to San Francisco----------------- 250From 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 bothinteresting 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 itempties itself into the Atlantic ocean. 

It is but a small village, and the harbor is likewise small, thoughsecure. It is formed by the jutting out of a narrow neck of land, and isdefended 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, andthe continual rains which prevail at Chagres, keep it in a swampycondition. Chagres is inhabited by colored people, entirely, with theexception of some few officials at the castle and in the custom-house. Itspopulation, (I speak, of course, of it previous to the influx, ) wasprobably not more than 500 in all, if so much. 

ITS CLIMATE

is, without doubt, the most pestiferous for whites in the whole world. Thecoast of Africa, which enjoys a dreadful reputation in this way, is not sodeadly in its climate as is Chagres. The thermometer ranges from 78° to85° all the year, and it rains every day. Many a traveler who hasincautiously remained there for a few days and nights, has had cause toremember Chagres; and many a gallant crew, who have entered the harbor infull health, have, ere many days, found their final resting place on thedank and malarious banks of the river. Bilious, remittent, and congestivefever, in their most malignant forms, seem to hover over Chagres, everready to pounce down on the stranger. Even the acclimated resident of thetropics runs a great risk in staying any time in Chagres; but the strangerfresh from the North and its invigorating breezes, runs a most fearfulone. 

THE RIVER JOURNEY

is performed in canoes, propelled up the stream by means of poles. Thereare two points at which one may land, viz: the villages of Gorgona andCruces. The distance from Chagres to the first named, is about 45 or 50miles--to the latter, some 50 or 55 miles. The traveler, who for the firsttime in his life embarks on a South American river like the Chagres, cannot fail to experience a singular depression of spirits at the dark andsombre aspect of the scene. In the first place, he finds himself in acanoe, so small that he is forced to lay quietly in the very centre of thestern 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, isunder the charge of his active boatman, who, stripped to the buff, withlong pole in hand, expertly propels the boat up stream, with many a cryand strange exclamation. The river itself is a dark, muddy, and rapidstream; in some parts quite narrow, and again at other points it is from300 to 500 yards wide. Let no one fancy that it resembles the bright andcheerful rivers which are met with here at the North. No pleasant villagesadorn its banks--no signs of civilization are seen on them, nothing butthe sombre primeval forest, which grows with all the luxury of the tropicsdown to the very margin of its swampy banks. 

A light canoe with two active boatmen and but one passenger in it, willreach Cruces in ten or twelve hours, whilst a heavier one might requirethirty-six hours to accomplish the passage. The passenger must take hisprovisions with him, as none are to be had on the river. 

A doubloon ($16) was the lowest charge for a single passenger, and fromthat up to two, three, and even four doubloons. As for taking our boatsfrom here, and rowing them up the river, I should think it would be ahopeless attempt. Hardy boatmen from our southwestern States, who areaccustomed to a much similar mode of travel on their rivers, wouldprobably be able to accomplish it; but in that burning and unhealthyclimate, for young men fresh from the North, unacquainted with the dangersof such navigation, and all unacclimated, to attempt such a feat would bemadness indeed. 

Let us, however, suppose the journey completed, and our adventurer safelyarrived at

CRUCES

He may now congratulate himself on having achieved the most toilsome partof his journey, and but twenty-one miles of land route intervene betweenhim and the glorious Pacific Ocean. Cruces is a small village, situated ona plain, immediately on the banks of the river, which here are high andsandy. Gorgona, the other landing place, is a few miles below Cruces, andis likewise a small village, very similar to Cruces--in fact, all SouthAmerican 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 hecommences his

JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS. 

The usual method of performing it, is on horse or on mule-back, withanother mule to carry the baggage and a muleteer who acts as guide. Theroad is a mere bridle path, and as the rains on the Isthmus are veryheavy, and there is more or less of them all the year round, the mud-holesand swampy places to be crossed are very numerous. Those who, at theNorth, talk gaily of a walk across the Isthmus, as if the road were asplain and easy as some of our macadamized turnpikes, would alter theirtone a little, could they see the road as it is. As for walking fromCruces to Panama, in case mules are scarce, the feat is by no meansimpossible, provided the traveler arrives in Cruces in good health, andhas but little baggage. It might easily be done with the assistance of aguide; but let no stranger, unacquainted with the language and new to suchcountries, attempt it without a guide. Having, then, fairly started fromCruces, either on horse or on foot, after a toilsome journey of some eightor ten hours, the Savanna of Panama is at last reached, and the sight ofthe broad and glittering Pacific Ocean, and the white towers of theCathedral of Panama, which are seen at the distance of about four milesfrom the city, give the now weary traveler assurance that his journey willshortly end; and another hour's toil brings him to the suburbs of thefamed

CITY OF PANAMA. 

We will find, however, that with this, as with most other South Americancities, "'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, anda most beautiful bay it is, too. What is the number of the presentpopulation, I cannot say, as it is doubtless filled with strangers--itformerly contained from 5000 to 7000 inhabitants, and was a quiet, stillcity, where, during the day, nought but the sounds of the convent bell andchurch bells disturbed the horses of the citizens in their grazings in thepublic squares, which were all overgrown with grass. The trade carried onconsisted in importing dry goods from Jamaica, for the supply of theIsthmenians, the neighboring produce of Veragua, the Pearl Islands, thetowns of Chiriqui, David, and their vicinities, and the various littleinland towns. Goods also were sent down to the ports of Payta, in Peru, and Guayaquil, in the Ecuador. The returns made for these goods, consistedin 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 theyear 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 thisroute are given below by Mr. Edwin Bryant, the author of "What I saw inCalifornia. " They were communicated to the Louisville Courier in answer toquestions 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 FortDaramie, South Pass, Fort Hall, the Sink of Mary's River, &c. &c. The oldroute. Let no emigrant, carrying his family with him, deviate from it, orimagine to himself that he can find a better road. This road is the bestthat has yet been discovered, and to the Bay of San Francisco and the goldregions 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 ofhostility on the emigrants. The trail is plain and good, where there areno physical obstructions and the emigrant, by taking this route, willcertainly reach his destination in good season, and without disaster. Fromour information we would most earnestly advise all emigrants to take thistrail, without deviation, if they would avoid the fatal calamities whichalmost invariably have attended those who have undertaken to explore newroutes. 

_Second_--What kind of wagon and team is preferable?

_Answer_--The lightest wagon that can be constructed of sufficientstrength to carry 2, 500 pounds weight, as the vehicle most desirable. Nowagon should be loaded over this weight, for if it is, it will be certainto stall in the muddy sloughs and crossings on the prairie in the firstpart of the journey. This wagon can be hauled by three or four yokes ofoxen or six mules. Oxen are usually employed by the immigrants for haulingtheir wagons. They travel about fifteen miles per day, and all thingsconsidered, are perhaps equal to mules for this service, although theycannot travel so fast. They are, however, less expensive, and there is notso 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 verydifficult to transport a party of women and children on pack-mules withthe provisions, clothing and baggage necessary to their comfort. A partyof men, however, with pack-mules, can make the journey in less time by onemonth than it can be done in wagons, carrying with them, however, nothingmore 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, carryingwith them pack-saddles and _alforgases_, or large saddle-bags, adapted to the pack saddle, with ropes for packing, &c. , when, if they sawproper, they could dispose of their wagons for Indian ponies, and packinto 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 oflard, with salt, pepper, &c. , with such other luxuries of light weight asthe person out-fitting chooses to purchase. He will think of them beforehe starts. 

_Fourth_--What arms and ammunition are necessary?

_Answer_--Every man should be provided with a good rifle, and ifconvenient with a pair of pistols, five pounds of powder and ten pounds oflead. 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, andhatchet. The last weapon every man should have in his belt, with ahunter'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, 2290miles. 

_Sixth_--What is the time for starting?

_Answer_--Emigrants should be at Independence, St. Joseph, Mo. , orthe point of starting, by the 20th of April, and start as soon thereafteras the grass on the prairies will permit. This is sometimes by the firstof 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 CopimesRiver, there are near two thousand people, nine-tenths of them foreigners. Perhaps there are one hundred families, who have their teams, wagons andtents. Many persons are waiting to see whether the months of July andAugust will be sickly, before they leave their present business to go tothe "Placer. " The discovery of this gold was made by some Mormons, inJanuary or February, who for a time kept it a secret; the majority ofthose 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 ofreturning home to see their families, arrange their business and purchaseprovisions. I feel confident in saying there are fifty men in this"placer" who have on an average $1000 each, obtained in May and June. Ihave not met with any person who had been fully employed in washing goldone month; most, however, appear to have averaged an ounce per day. Ithink there must, by, this time, be over 1000 men at work upon thedifferent branches of the Sacramento; putting their gains at $10, 000 perday, for six days in the week, appears to me not overrated. 

Should this news reach the emigration of California and Oregon, now on theroad, connected with the Indian wars, now impoverishing the lattercountry, we should have a large addition to our population; and should therichness of the gold region continue, our emigrants in 1849 will be manythousand, and in 1850 still more. If our countrymen in California asclerks, mechanics and workmen will forsake employment at from $2 to $6 perday, how many more of the same class in the Atlantic States, earning muchless, will leave for this country under such prospects? It is the opinionof 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 opinionthat, at least for a few years, the golden products will equal the presentyear. However, as neither men of science, nor the laborers now at work, have made any explorations of consequence, it is a matter of impossibilityto give any opinion as to the extent and richness of this part ofCalifornia. Every Mexican who has seen the place says throughout theirRepublic there has never been any "placer like this one. "

Could Mr. Polk and yourself see California as we now see it, you wouldthink that a few thousand people, on 100 miles square of the Sacramentovalley, would yearly turn out of this river the whole price our countrypays for the acquired territory. When I finished my first letter I doubtedmy own writing, and, to be better satisfied, showed it to one of theprincipal merchants of San Francisco, and to Capt. Folsom, of theQuartermaster's Department, who decided at once I was far below thereality. You certainly will suppose, from my two letters, that I am, likeothers, led away by the excitement of the day. I think I am not. In mylast I inclosed a small sample of the gold dust, and I find my only errorwas in putting a value to the sand. At that time I was not aware how thegold 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 upperground, near the water (in some cases they take the top earth, ) throwsinto a tin pan or wooden bowl a shovel full of loose dirt and stones; thenplacing the basin an inch or two under water, continues to stir up thedirt with his hand in such a manner that the running water will carry offthe light earths, occasionally, with his hand, throwing out the stones;after an operation of this kind for twenty or thirty minutes, a spoonfulof small black sand remains; this is, on a handkerchief or cloth, dried inthe sun, the emerge is blown off, leaving the pure gold. I have thepleasure of inclosing a paper of this sand and gold, which I, from abucket of dirt and stones, in half an hour, standing at the edge of thewater, 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 itis taken, the banks of one river having larger grains of gold thananother. I presume more than one-half of the gold put into pans ormachines is washed out and goes down the stream; this is of no consequenceto the washers, who care only for the present time. Some have formedcompanies of four or five men, and have a rough-made machine put togetherin 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 theStates, but eight to sixteen dollars at the gold region. As the workmencontinue, and materials can be obtained, improvements will take place inthe mode of obtaining gold; at present it is obtained by standing in thewater, 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 thefuture effect it will have on California, I cannot say. Three-fourths ofthe houses in the town on the Bay of San Francisco are deserted. Housesare sold at the price of the ground lots. The effects are this weekshowing themselves in Monterey. Almost every house I had hired out isgiven up. Every blacksmith, carpenter and lawyer is leaving; brick yards, saw mills and ranches are left perfectly alone. A large number of thevolunteers at San Francisco and Sonoma have deserted; some have beenretaken and brought back; public and private vessels are losing theircrews: my clerks have had 100 per cent advance offered them on their wagesto accept employment. A complete revolution in the ordinary state ofaffairs is taking place; both of our newspapers are discontinued from wantof workmen and the loss of their agencies; the Alcaldes have left SanFrancisco, and I believe Sonoma likewise; the former place has not aJustice of the Peace left. 

The second Alcalde of Monterey to-day joins the keepers of our principalhotel, who have closed their office and house, and will leave tomorrow forthe golden rivers. I saw on the ground a lawyer who was last year AttorneyGeneral of the King of the Sandwich Islands, digging and washing out hisounce and a half per day; near him can be found most all his brethren ofthe long robe, working in the same occupation. 

To conclude; my letter is long, but I could not well describe what I haveseen 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 canall be deceived, as we are situated. Gov. Mason and his staff have leftMonterey to visit the place in question, and will, I suppose, soon forwardto his department his views and opinions on this subject. Most of the landwhere gold has been discovered, is public land; there are, on differentrivers, some private grants. I have three such, purchased in 1846 and '47, but have not learned that any private lands have produced gold, thoughthey may hereafter do so. 

* * * * *

Here is a letter of great sprightliness, beauty and interest, prepared bythat finished scholar and noted writer, the Rev. Walter Colton, Alcalde ofMonterey. 

MONTEREY, California, Aug. 29, 1848. 

The gold discoveries still continue--every day brings some new deposit tolight. It has been found in large quantities on the Sacramento, FeatherRiver, Yerba River, the American fork--North and South branches--theCosamer, and in many dry ravines, and indeed on the tops of high hills Thetract of country in which it is ascertained to exist, extends some twohundred miles North and South, and some sixty East and West; and theselimits are every day enlarging by new discoveries. On the streams wherethe gold has been subjected to the action of water and sand, it exists infine grains; on the hills and among the clefts of the rocks it is found inrough, jagged pieces of a quarter or half an ounce in weight, andsometimes two or three ounces. 

The gold is obtained in a variety of ways; some wash it out of the sandwith bowls, some with a machine made like a cradle, only longer and openat the foot, while at the other end, instead of a squalling infant, thereis a grating upon which the earth is thrown, and then water; both passthrough the grating, --the cradle is rocked, and being on an inclinedplane, the water carries off the earth, and the gold is deposited in thebottom of the cradle. So the two things most prized in this world, goldand infant beauty, are both rocked out of their primitive stage, one topamper pride, and the other to pamper the worm. Some forego cradles andbowls as too tame an occupation, and mounted on horses, half wild, dash upthe mountain gorges and over the steep hills, picking the gold from theclefts of the rocks with their bowie knives, --a much better use to make ofthese instruments than picking the life out of men's bodies; for what is aman with that article picked out of him?

A larger party, well mounted, are following up the channel of theSacramento, to discover where this gold, found in its banks, comes from;and imagine that near the river's fount they will find the great yellowmass itself. But they might as well hunt the fleeting rainbow. The goldwas thrown up from the bed of the ocean with the rocks and sands in whichit is found; and still bears, where it has escaped the action of theelement, vivid traces of volcanic fire. It often encases a crystal ofquartz, in which the pebble lies as if it had slumbered there frometernity; its beautiful repose sets human artifice at defiance. Howstrange that this ore should have lain here, scattered about in alldirections, peeping everywhere out of the earth, and sparkling in the sun, and been trod upon for ages by white men and savages, and by theemissaries of every scientific association in the world, and never tillnow have been discovered! What an ass man is, with all his learning! Hestupidly stumbles over hills of gold to reach a rare pepper pod, or riflea 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. Astranger coming here would suppose he had arrived among a race of women, who, by some anomalous provision of nature, multiplied their imageswithout the presence of the other sex. But not a few of the women havegone too, especially those who had got out of tea--for what is womenwithout her tea pot--a pythoness without her shaking trypod--an angel thathas lost his lyre. Every bowl, tray, warming-pan, and piggin has gone tothe mines. Everything in short, that has a scoop in it that will hold sandand water. All the iron has been worked up into crow-bars, pick-axes andspades. 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. Oursupplies must come from Oregon, Chili and the United States. Our graingold, 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 eighteendollars 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; elsethis grain gold goes to Mazatlan, to Chili and Peru--where it is lost toour national currency. Over a million of gold, at the lowest computation, is taken from these mines every month---and this quantity will be morethan doubled when the emigration from they States, from Oregon, theSandwich Islands, and the Southern republics arrives. Send us a mint! Icould give you forty more illustrations of the extent and productivenessof these mines, but no one will believe what I _have_ said without myname, and perhaps but few with it. 

* * * * *

LETTER FROM CAPT. FOLSOM. 

The latest and most authentic intelligence from the Gold Regions ofCalifornia, is the most interesting and the best. The following letterfrom Capt. Folsom, it will be seen, is of recent date; and on perusal thereader 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 UnitedStates. Kannakas, or Sandwich Islanders, the worst of laborers, are nowemployed constantly about town in storing and landing merchandise at adollar an hour each; and the most indifferent laborers are hired by theweek together at six or eight dollars per day. Mechanics obtain, whenemployed by the day, eight or ten dollars per day, and by the month aboutsix. In a few days, as the sickly season is over, I presume wages willadvance, for most of the laboring classes are returning to the mines. 

I have just completed the repairs upon a government lighter, preparatoryto discharging the cargo of the transport ship Huntress. I attempted tohire a lighter to effect this, but could not get one capable of containingone hundred and twenty barrels manned by two men, short of fifty dollarsper day. I have had the master of the government lighter employed forseveral days in getting a crew for her; and when he offers $80 per monthfor sailors, he is laughed at, and told that a man can get that amount atthe mines in one day. 

A few days since, I sent a wagon-master to employ some men to handlestores 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 aredundancy of this world's gear. He was wearing a slouched hat without acrown, a dilapidated buckskin hunting shirt or frock, a very uncleanly redwoolen shirt, with pantaloons hanging in tatters, and his feet had anapology for a covering in one old shoe, and one buckskin moccasin, sadlythe worse for wear and age. When asked if he wanted employment, he repliedin the affirmative; and as the young man was proceeding to tell him whathe wished to have him do, he was interrupted with "It is not that kind ofwork, 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 inthe mines, sir. Look here, stranger, do you see this? This bag containsgold 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?_ Ishould think not, stranger!" And our friend left in a most contemptuousmanner. Nor was this a solitary instance of like conduct; they occur dailyand hourly in this village. 

All sorts of labor is got at enormous rates of compensation. Common clerksand salesmen in the stores about town often receive as high as $2500 andtheir board. The clerk now in my office is a young boy, who, until a fewweeks 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 havejust seen upon his table a wash bill, made out and paid, at the rate ofeight dollars per dozen; and that almost every thing else is atcorresponding prices. The principal waiter in the hotel where I board ispaid $1, 700 per year, and several others from $1, 200 to $1, 500. Ifortunately have an Indian boy, or I should be forced to clean my ownboots, for I could not employ a good body servant for the full amount ofmy salary as a government officer. It will be impossible for any armyofficer to live here upon his pay without becoming rapidly impoverished, for his time is not his own to enter upon business; and although he mighthave money, his opportunities for making it useful to him are few, unlesshe invests it in real estate. Unless something is done, I am unable to seehow it is possible for officers, living upon the salaries granted by lawto 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 atonce to commence for themselves. But the war was not then terminated, andno one could hope to communicate with Washington correspondents, to get ananswer in less than six, and perhaps ten months. For some time lastsummer, (August and July, ) the officers at Monterey were entirely withoutservants; and the Governor (Col. Mason, ) actually took his turn in cookingfor his mess. Unless some prompt action is taken to pay both officers andmen serving in this country, in proportion to the unavoidable expenses tobe incurred, the former will resign and the latter will desert, and itwill be impossible to maintain a military force in California. 

I look upon California as perhaps the richest mineral country on theglobe. I have written you at great length as to the gold, and since thedate of that letter other and richer mines have been discovered. Richsilver mines are known to exist in various parts of the country, but theyare not worked. Quicksilver mines are found at innumerable places, andmany of them afford the richest ores. The new Almadin mine at Santa Claragives the richest ore of which we have any accounts. With very imperfectmachinery, it yields upward of fifty per cent, and the proprietors are nowworking it, and are preparing to quadruple their force. Iron, copper, lead, tin, sulphur, zinc, platinum, cobalt, &c. Are said to be found inabundance, and most of them are known to exist in various sections of thecountry. 

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 believeCalifornia can be made to produce as fine wheat, rye, oats, buckwheat, barley, vegetables, and fruits, especially grapes, as any portion of theworld. Nothing that has been fairly tried has failed, and nearly everything has produced wonderfully. The portions of the soil which are capableof cultivation are inconsiderable in comparison with the whole area of thecountry; but the soil about this bay, and in many of the large valleys, isequal to the wants of a dense population. It is proverbially healthy, andwith the exception of portions of the Sacramento and San Joaquin valleys, no country ever had, at the same period of its settlement, a moresalubrious climate. 

I think California affords means for the investment of capital such as fewother countries offer. Any person who could come in here now with readycash would be certain of doubling his money in a few months. Largefortunes will be made here within the ensuing year, and I am told thatthere 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 150per 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 hasfollowed is likely to make this property quite valuable, if I am able tolook 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 willingto return to a country where my salary is insufficient for my support. IfCongress does not increase the pay of officers serving here, I shouldstill be willing to return, in the expectation that my private interestswould justify a measure which would otherwise be certain to impoverish me. 

Something should be done here at once for the establishment of peace andgood 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 thevillages, no authority but that of the strongest exists, and outrages ofthe most disgraceful nature are constantly occurring, and the offenders gounpunished. There are now about twenty-five vessels in this port, and Ibelieve there is not one of them that has a crew to go to sea. Frequentlythe sailors arm themselves, take the ship's boats, and leave in the mostopen manner, defying both their officers and the civil magistrates. Thesethings are disgraceful to the country and the flag, and while vessels haveto pay port charges, duties, &c. , their owners ought to be protected. Thetariff 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 areconcentrated at Monterey, which is not a harbor but an open roadstead, andwhich has not one-tenth of the business on its waters which is done inthis bay. During the whole year that I was collector of this port, therewas not a gun mounted for commanding the entrance of the port, and therewas not a United States man-of-war in the harbor. We were exacting a"military contribution, " and we possessed not the slightest means ofpreventing vessels from leaving in defiance of our authority. 

In a few months the line of ocean mail steamers will be in operation fromPanama to Oregon, and this port is to be a depot for coal, and of course astopping point in passing both ways. The starting of the line of steamerson this coast is likely to be an undertaking of very great difficulty, andat this time, such is its importance, with reference to both Oregon andCalifornia, that its failure might be looked upon as a national calamity. Still, unless some kind of protection is extended to the shipping of thisport, it is not at all improbable that it may fail for want of thenecessary laborers, as soon as the boats reach this harbor. Indeed, it isaltogether probable, unless some competent authority is found here at thetime to preserve order, that the crew will quit in a body as soon as thefirst vessel arrives. 

Every possible assistance should be extended to insure the success of thiscompany, and every reasonable latitude should be granted in the executionof their contract. It is now uncertain if the steamers can enter Columbiariver at all times in the winter; and they may find it necessary to run upto Paget's Sound. This would be a small inconvenience in comparison to theloss of one of these vessels upon the very dangerous bar at the mouth ofthe Columbia--an event not at all improbable, if they enter that river inthe winter. 

* * * * *

NEWSPAPER CORRESPONDENCE. 

The following letters were communicated to the "Californian" newspaper, and exhibit very graphically the state of excitement and the actual stateof things in the Gold Regions during last summer. 

NEW HELVETIA, June 30, 1848. 

I have just returned from Fort Sacramento, from the gold region, fromwhence I write this; and in compliance with my promise, on leaving the seacoast, I send you such items as I have gathered. 

Our trip after leaving your city, by way of Pueblo, San Jose, and the SanJoaquin river, we found very agreeable. Passing over a lovely country, with its valleys and hills covered with the richest verdure, intertwinedwith flowers of every hue. The country from the San Joaquin river to thisplace, is rich beyond comparison, and will admit of a dense population. 

We found the fort a miniature Manchester, a young Lowell. The blacksmith'shammer, the tinner, the carpenter, and the weaver's shuttle, plying by theingenuity of Indians, at which place there are several hundred in theemploy of Capt. J. A. Sutter. I was much pleased with a walk in a large andbeautiful garden attached to the fort. It contains about eight or tenacres, laid out with great taste, under the supervision of a young Swiss. Among the fruit trees I noticed the almond, fig, olive, pear, apple, andpeach. The grape vines are in the highest state of cultivation, and forvegetables, I would refer you to a seedman's catalogue. 

About three miles from the fort, on the east bank of the Sacramento, thetown of Suttersville is laid out. The location is one of the best in thecountry, 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 thetravelling public, who are now obliged to impose on the kind hospitalitiesof Capt. Sutter. A party of men who have been exploring a route to crossthe Sierra Nevada mountains, have just returned, and report that they havefound a good wagon road on the declivity ridge between the American forkand the McCossamy rivers, the distance being much less than by the oldroute. The road will pass through the gold district, and enter the valleynear the American fork. 

A ferry is to be established at Suttersville, on the Sacramento, and theroad across the _tularie_ improved soon, which will shorten thedistance from this place to Sonoma and your city, about 60 miles. 

After leaving the fort we passed up on the south bank of the Americanfork, about twelve miles. This is a beautiful river, about three fathomsdeep the water being very cold and clear; and after leaving the river wepassed through a country rolling and timbered with oak. We soon commencedascending the hills at the base of the Sierra Nevada, which are thicklyset with oak and pine timber, and soon arrived at a small rivulet. One ofour 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 riddenover gold, silver, platina and iron mines, some twenty or thirty miles. The past three days I have spent in exploring the mountains in thisdistrict, and conversing with many men who have been at work here for someweeks past. Should I attempt to relate to you all that I have seen, andhave been told, concerning the extent and productions of the mines, I amfearful your readers would think me exaggerating too much, therefore Iwill keep within bounds. I could fill your columns with the mostastonishing tales concerning the mines here, far excelling the ArabianNights, and all true to the letter. 

As near as I can ascertain, there are now about 2, 000 persons engaged, andthe roads leading to the mines are thronged with people and wagons. Fromone to nine ounces of pure virgin gold per day is gathered by every manwho performs the requisite labor. The mountains have been explored forabout forty miles, and gold has been found in great abundance in almostevery part of them. A gentleman informed me that he had spent some time inexploring the country, and had dug fifty-two holes with his butcher'sknife in different places, and found gold in every one. 

Several extensive silver mines have been discovered, but very littleattention is paid to them now. Immense beds of iron ore, of superiorquality, yielding 85 to 90 per cent. , have also been found near theAmerican Fork. 

A grist mill is to be attached to the saw mill, for the purpose ofconvenience of families and others settling at the mines. The water powerof the American Fork is equal to any upon this continent, and in a fewyears large iron founderies, rolling, splitting and nail mills will beerected. 

The granite of the mountains is superior to the celebrated Quincy. Aquarry 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 CustomHouse, Merchants' Exchange, City Hall, and other edifices in yourflourishing city. 

P. S. -"The cry is still, they come. " Two men have just arrived forprovisions from the Abjuba river, who state that they have worked fivedays, and gathered $950 in gold, the largest piece weighing nearly oneounce. They report the quantity on that river to be immense, and in muchlarger pieces than that taken in other parts. 

SONOMA. Aug. 5, 1848. 

The mining fever is raging here, as well as elsewhere. Not a mechanic orlaboring 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, brasstubes, earthern jars, and even barrels, have been put in requisition, andhave also abruptly left town. 

I have heard from one of our citizens who has been at the Gold Placer afew weeks, and he had collected $1, 500 worth of the "root of evil, " andwas 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 fiveor 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 andIndian basket. 

Three new and valuable lead mines have recently been discovered in thisvicinity, and one of our citizens, Mr. John Bowles, of Galena, Ill. --agent, who has been reported by the Boston press as having been murdered bythe Indians, on the Southern route to Oregon, from the States--informed methat the ore would yield 90 per cent. , and that it was his intention toerect, as soon as practicable, six large smelting furnaces. 

The Colonnade Theatre, at this place, has closed for the season; it waswell attended, however, from the time the Thespians made their debut tillthey made their exit. The "Golden Farmer, " the "Omnibus, " and a Russiancomedy 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 todayexchanging posts with Company H. , under command of Captain Frisbie, bothof the New York Volunteers. Company C. Has been stationed with us morethan a year, and much praise is due its members, not only for the militaryand soldier-like manner in which they have acquitted themselves as acorps, but for their gentlemanly and orderly deportment individually andcollectively. We regret to part with them, and cannot let them go withoutexpressing a hope that when peace shall have been declared, their regimentdisbanded, and their country no longer needs their services, they may havefallen sufficiently in love with our healthy climate and our beautifulvalley to come back and settle. 

* * * * *

GOLD. 

The New York _Evening Post_ has an article upon this subject, fromwhich we take the following:

The places where it is found are much more numerous than we might at firstsuppose. The mines of America, however, surpass those of all othercountries. Though of comparative newness, they have furnished three timesand a half more gold and twelve times more silver than those of the oldworld. Silver and gold were, before the discovery of America, supposed tobear to each other the relation of 55 to 1. In Europe the proportion isnow about 15 to 1. 

The gold of Mexico is chiefly found in argentiferous veins, as atGuanaxuato, where it is obtained one ounce in 360. The only auriferousveins, worked as such, are at Oaxaca. The rivers in Caraccas flow overauriferous sands. Peru is not reported rich in gold at present. The goldof New Grenada is found in alluvial soil, and is washed out in the shapeof spangles and grains. The gold of Chili, is found under similarcircumstances. Brazil formerly brought the most gold to market, not evenexcepting Russia, which now, however, surpasses her. All the riversrunning from the Brazilian mountains have gold, and the annual product offine metal is now rated at $5, 000, 000. 

There are no very late tables of the products of the American mines. Wehave ascertained, by accident purely, how the estimate is made at present. 

From 1790 to 1830, forty years, the product of Mexico was:--

Gold £6, 436, 453Silver 139, 818, 032

Chili--

Gold £2, 768, 488Silver 1, 822, 924

Buenos Ayres--

Gold £4, 024, 895Silver 27, 182, 673

Add to this Russia--

Gold £2, 703, 743Silver 1, 502, 981

And we have from four countries alone 1880 millions of pounds sterling, orforty-seven millions per annum. 

If we add the products of Europe and Asiatic Russia, of the East Indiesand Africa, which some estimate at thirty-six tons of gold per annum, weperceive that a vast amount of the precious metal is unearthed andsomewhere in use. The relative value of gold has certainly changed verymuch 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, formany reasons, though some persons imagine it will. 

The true secret of all this present excitement is this: the Anglo Saxonrace, for the first time in their history, own and occupy gold mines ofvery great value. Hitherto Africans, Asiatic or Indians, have held them, and they have never shown that ardor combined with perseverance whichbelongs to us. England never had any mines of gold, or she would haveworked them as diligently as she has those of coal. The Americans have nowa golden chance, and they are the first of their blood that have ever hadit. They will be sure to turn the opportunity to account. 

At our leisure we will refer to some other interesting facts, in relationto the value of gold at different periods. We conclude with recalling onesingular circumstance to the recollection of our readers, that when theRomans captured Jerusalem, they obtained so much gold, that the price ofit in Syria fell one half. 

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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 fromGovernor Mason to the government at Washington (who also brought on about$20, 000 of gold dust, which he deposited at Washington, ) with a generaldescription of the gold region, the climate, &c. , of California. He saysthe gold region is very large, and there is sufficient ore to profitablyemploy one hundred thousand persons for generations to come. So far asdiscovered, the gold is found in an extent of country four hundred mileslong, by one hundred and fifty wide, and no particular portion seems moreproductive than another. In the river and on the flatlands the gold dustis 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 ofwhich is solid, and presents the appearance of having been thrown up by avolcanic eruption. So plenty is the gold, that little care is paid to thewashing of it by those engaged when he left; the consequence of which isgreat quantities are thrown away. In the highlands he was walking with aman 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 aperfect 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 $50to $200 per day. With regard to the climate, he says, it is salubrious, atno time being so cold as to require more than a light blanket to sleepunder. When he left, the people were sleeping under the trees, without thefear of sickness from exposure. The rainy season begins about the first ofNovember, and continues until March, though there are five clear days forevery rainy one. Provisions are generally high, at least such as cannot beobtained in the country. Flour is worth $80 per barrel, though a finebullock may be obtained for $3. Clothing is very high, and the demand isvery 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 goldfound, he says, is a mistake. When the gold was first discovered, one ofthe leaders of that people demanded that amount from all the Mormons, butthey remonstrated, and refused to pay it, which remonstrance caused notthe slightest difficulty among the people. He was in San Francisco whenthe gold was first discovered, about forty miles from that place. The newswas received one day, and the following morning, out of the whole companyto which he was attached, every one deserted except two sergeants, andtook with them all the horses belonging to the officers. In a few days thecity was almost entirely deserted, and Col. Mason, the governor of theterritory, was, and has ever since been, obliged to prepare and cook hisown food. A servant cannot be had at any price; and the soldiers have notsufficient pay for a month to subsist on for a week. The salary of thegovernor is not sufficient to support him; and, like all others in themore wealthy circles of life, he is obliged to be his own servant. Hespeaks of the country as offering the greatest inducements to young men ofenterprise, and thinks there is ample room and gold for hundreds ofthousands. 

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ADVICE TO THOSE GOING TO CALIFORNIA BY THE CAPES. 

The following article, condensed from correspondence in a daily paper ofNew York City, will be found to contain many valuable hints to theCalifornia bound traveler. It came to hand too late to appear in itsproper place, where the four different routes are spoken of:

The first grand desideratum is, to secure comfort on the passage, by themost efficient and economical means, thereby, as far as possible insuringthe arrival of the company at their destination in good health andcondition. 

To insure the most perfect health and comfort attainable on so long avoyage, a vessel should not be fitted up as our European passenger shipsare, with bunks for the passengers to sleep in, but the berth deck shouldbe free from bulkheads fore and aft. This arrangement would give plenty ofroom for the company to swing their hammocks or cots, which could bestowed on deck in pleasant weather, leaving the berth deck free fromencumbrance, for the company to amuse themselves with conversation orexercise. Such an arrangement would secure a more perfect ventilation (avery important consideration) than bunks could possibly admit of, as bunksunavoidably harbor filth and vermin, besides leaving very little room forthe exercise so absolutely necessary in preventing the diseases incidentto a protracted voyage. Before the company proceeds on the voyage, eachmember should subscribe to a code of regulations, and officers beappointed to carry them into effect. This arrangement should be made inorder to obviate the vexation and annoyance which inevitably occurwherever a large number of persons are promiscuously on shipboard. Asimple system, such as regularity of meals and cleansing the interior ofthe ship, similar to the Navy regulations in that particular, areindispensible 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 pecuniarycondition and intelligence_ as circumstances will admit, and it wouldbe very important for the most useful and necessary arts to be wellrepresented. By such an organization, the company would be very efficient;for by taking on board cloth, leather, iron, lumber, brick, &c. Theirclothing, shoes, iron and wood work of a brick house might be made onboard. 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 thechoicest varieties of young fruit trees and garden seeds, should beprovided. Instead of the usual ballast for the vessel, brick and lime, ifnecessary, could be taken for that purpose, which might be used by thecompany or disposed of to great advantage at San Francisco. The vesselmight be profitably employed in transporting passengers to and from theIsthmus, with great profit to the company, of which the officers andship's company should be members. A _skillful surgeon_ should belongto the association. Every member of the company should contribute all theuseful books he could, as a library on ship-board would be a constantsource of amusement and instruction. 

Persons about embarking on so long a voyage should be very particular andhave their provisions carefully put up. The United States service rationswill be found to be very economical. The following is the weekly allowanceper 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, 1/2pint 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 bekiln dried; any baker can do it. It is only necessary to evaporate all themoisture, and pack it in air-tight casks. Pine-apple cheese is the bestand should be put up in water-tight boxes, saturated in alcohol. Sourcrout, pickles, &c. Are excellent anti-scorbutics, and should be eatenfreely. Be careful and lay in a good store of "salt water soap. "

N. B. The flour should be packed in casks that have contained distilledspirits. 

A vessel bound for California by the way of Cape Horn by touching at RioJaneiro, Brazil and Callao, in Peru, would divide the voyage into threeperiods, increasing its interest without much addition to its length oftime. Rio Janeiro has one of the most magnificent harbors on the globe, far surpassing in natural grandeur the bay of Naples. The approach to thestupendous mountain coast is inexpressibly grand. The entrance to thecapacious roadstead is through a narrow strait of great depth of waterunobstructed by rock or shoal, flanked on the North by the huge fortressof Santa Cruz; on the South the "Sugar Loaf" rock proudly rears its loftycone near one thousand feet above the surface of the deep. The entire bayis nearly surrounded by numerous mountain peaks of every conceivable form. 

Leaving Rio we prepare to encounter the terrors of the "Horn, " havingovercome its Westerly gales and "head-beat seas" debouching on the vastPacific, we career onward before the "trades" to Callao, the port of Limaand capital of the Peruvian Republic. Here the refreshments peculiar tothe Tropics are plenty and of excellent quality. We ride at anchor overthe ancient City of Callao, (destroyed and sunk by an earthquake 1746, ) insight of the lofty Andes, the mighty cones of Pichnia and Cotopaxi blazingtheir volcanic fires far above the region of eternal snow, their ice-frosted summits glittering in the sun, forming a dazzling contrast withthe clear deep azure of the tropical skies. 

Waving adieu to Callao, our canvas spread to woo the "trades, " we sweeponward to Alta-California, and entering the "Golden Gate" of theCornucopia of the Pacific, drop our anchor in the bay of San Francisco.