Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2016 with funding from Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries https://archive.org/details/reportofexplorin00frem_1 f ■jpsS'l a , PZ 3 REPORT OF ' , V * * • THE EXPLORING EXPEDITION TO THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS IN THE YEAR 1842, AND TO OREGON AND NORTH CALIFORNIA IN THE YEARS 1843-’44. BREVET CAPTAIN J. C. FREMONT, OF THE TOFOGRAPHICAL ENGINEERS, UNDER THE ORDERS OF COL. J. J. ABERT, CHIEF OF THE TOPOGRAPHICAL BUREAU. 1845. IN SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES, March 3, 1845. Resolved , That the Secretary of War be requested to communicate to the Senate, if it be pre- pared, and if not, to the Secretary of the Senate during the recess, Brevet Captain Fremont’s report of his late expedition to Oregon, in the years 1843-’44; and that there be printed for the use of the Senate ten thousand extra copies of that report, together with the report of his expedition to the Rocky mountains in 1842, which is hereby directed to be reprinted with the report of the last expedition. Attest : ASBURY DICKINS, Secretary of the Senate, t NOTICE TO THE READER, The Senate of the United Stales, and the House of Representatives having each ordered ten thousand copies of the reports of the two ex- ploring expeditions conducted by me, to be printed together, I have deemed it regular and natural to place the report of 1842 first in the order of publication, although heretofore printed ; it being first in the order of time, and first in the progress of actual exploration. The two reports naturally go together, the second being a continuation of the first, and the two constituting parts of a whole, which will require a third expedition, now commencing, to complete. The first terminated at the Rocky moun- tains, and at the two points of greatest interest in that ridge — namely, the South Pass, and Fremont’s Peak; the former being the lowest depression of the mountains, through which the road to Oregon now passes, and the latte* the highest elevation, from the base of which four great rivers take their rise, and flow in opposite directions, toward the rising and the setting sun. The second, after approaching the mountains by a different route, connects with the first expedition at the South Pass, and thence finds the great theatre of its labors west of the Rocky mountains, and between the Oregon river and North California. The third expedition, now com- mencing, will be directed to that section of the Rocky mountains which gives rise to the Arkansas, the Rio Grande del Norte, and the Rio Colorado of California ; and will extend west and southwest of that section, so as to examine the country towards the Pacific ocean, ascertain the lines of communication between the mountains and the ocean in that latitude, and complete the examination of the Great Salt lake and of the interesting re- gion which embosoms it. The map which illustrated the report of 1842 is now extended to illus- trate the entire expedition of 1843-’44, so that a view of both expeditions will be presented together. This map may have a meager and skeleton appearance to the general eye, but is expected to be more valuable to science on that account, being wholly founded upon positive data and ac- tual operations in the field. About ten thousand miles of actual travel- ling and traversing in the wilderness which lies between the frontiers of Missouri and the shores of the Pacific, almost every camping station being 4 the scene of astronomical or barometrical observations, furnish the mate- rials out of which this map has been constructed. Nothing supposititious has been admitted upon it; so that, connecting with Captain Wilkes’s sur- vey of the mouth of the Columbia, and with the authentic surveys of the State of Missouri, it fills up the vast geographical chasm between these two remote points, and presents a connected and accurate view of our con- tinent from the Mississippi river to the Pacific ocean. To this geographical map, delineating the face of the country over which we travelled, there is added another in profile, showing the eleva- tions, or the rise and fall of the country from the Mississippi to the Pacific. East of the Rocky mountains, two of these profile views are given — one from St. Louis to the South Pass, the other from the mouth of the Great Platte to the same point. The latter is the shortest ; and following, as it does, the regular descent of the river, and being seven hundred miles west of the Mississippi, it may be that the eastern terminus of this line may furnish the point at which the steamboat and the steam car may hereafter meet and exchange cargoes in their magic flight across this continent. These profile views, following the travelling routes, of course follow the lowest and levellest lines, and pass the mountain at the point of its great- est depression ; but to complete the view, and to show the highest points as well as the lowest levels, many lofty peaks are sketched at their proper elevations, towering many thousands of feet above the travelling line.* It may here be excusable to suggest that these profile maps here exhibited are, perhaps, the most extended work of the kind ever constructed, being from St. Louis (according to the route we travelled) near sixteen hundred miles to the South Pass ; from the mouth of the Great Platte to the same Pass, about one thousand more ; and then another sixteen hundred from that Pass to the tide water of the Oregon ; in all, about four thousand miles of profile mapping, founded upon nearly four hundred barometrical positions, with views sketched and facts noted in the field as we went. In the departments of geological and botanical science, 1 have not ven- tured to advance any opinions on my own imperfect knowledge of those branches, but have submitted all my specimens to the enlightened judg- ment of Dr. Torrey, of New Jersey, and Dr. Hall, of New York, who have kindly classified and arranged all that I was able to submit to them- The botanical observations of Dr. Torrey will be furnished in full here- after, there not being time to complete them now. The remarks of Dr. Hall, on the geological specimens furnished to him, will be found in an appendix to the report; and to his palaeontological skill I am indebted for the discovery of an oolitic formation in the region west of the Rocky 5 mountains, which further examination may prove to assimilate the geOiOgy of the New to that of the Old World in a rare particular, which had not before been discovered in either of the two Americas. Unhappily, much of what we had collected was lost by accidents of serious import to ourselves, as well as to our animals and collections. In the gorges and ridges of the Sierra Nevada, of the Alta California, we lost fourteen horses and mules, falling from rocks or precipices into chasms or rivers, bottom- less to us and to them, and one of them loaded with bales of plants col- lected on a line of two thousand miles of travel; and, when almost home, our camp on the banks of the Kansas was deluged by the great flood which, lower down, spread terror and desolation on the borders of the Missouri and Mississippi, and by which great damage was done to our remaining perishable specimens, all wet and saturated with water, and which we had no time to dry. Still, what is saved will be some respect- able contribution to botanical science, thanks to the skill and care of Dr- Torrey ; and both in geology and botany the maps will be of great value, the profile view showing the elevations at which the specimens were found, and the geographical map showing the localities from which they come. The astronomical observations, taken with good instruments, have been tested, where they were most important, by a three-fold computation : one by Professor Walker, of Philadelphia, whose astronomical reputation is so great; another by Mr. Joseph C. Hubbard, a promising young mathema- * tician from Connecticut ; the third by myself ; so that the correctness of the longitudes and latitudes may well be relied upon. In sketching the topographical features of the country, a branch of science in which he had been professionally educated, Mr. Charles Preuss had been my assistant in both expeditions; and to his extraordinary skill, supported by the pleasure he felt in the execution of his duties, I am in- debted for the continuous topographical sketches of the regions through which we passed, and which were never interrupted by any extremity of fatigue or privation. The barometrical and meteorological observations were carefully made with good instruments, and admit of no material error beyond the minute deviations inseparable from such operations. The third expedition, now commencing, is undertaken with more ample means than the two former ; and, being directed to a region so interesting in itself, and so new to science, can hardly fail to recjuite the enterprise which explores it. The report, or narrative, of this extended expedition, like the maps which illustrate it, will be strictly confined to what was seen, and to what is necessary to show the face and character of the country, and to add something to science while fulfilling the instructions of the Government, which chiefly contemplated a military topographical survey. A greater degree of popular interest might have been imparted to it by admitting a greater latitude of detail, but it was deemed best to adhere to the rigorous character of a report , and to present nothing, either in the narrative or in the maps, which was not the result of positive observation. J. C. FREMONT, j Brevet Captain Topographical Engineers . Washington City, March , 1845. A. REPORT cn AN EXPLORATION OF THE COUNTRY Lying beYween the MISSOURI RIVER AND THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, CN THt LINE or THE KANSAS AND GREAT TLATTE RIVERS, 28th Congress, 2d Session , ' [SENATE.] [ H4 ] REPORT Washington, March 1, 1843, To Colonel J. J. Abert, Chief of the Corps of Topographical Engineers : Sir : Agreeably to your orders to explore and report upon the country between the frontiers of Missouri and the South Pass in the Rocky moun- tain?, and on the line of the Kansas and Great Platte rivers, I sat out from Washington city on the 2d day of May, 1842, and arrived at St. Louis, by way of New. York, the 22d of May, where the necessary preparations were completed, and the expedition commenced. I proceeded in a steamboat to Chouteau’s landing, about four hundred miles by water from St. Louis, and near the mouth of the Kansas river, whence we proceeded twelve miles to Mr. Cyprian Chouteau’s trading house, where we completed our final arrangements for the expedition. Bad weather, which interfered with astronomical observations, delayed us several days in the early part of June at this post, which is on the right bank of the Kansas river, about ten miles above the mouth, and six be- yond the western boundary of Missouri. The sky cleared off at length, and we were enabled to determine our position, in longitude 94° 25* 46", and latitude 39° 5' 57". The elevation above the sea is about 700 feet. Our camp, in the mean time, presented an animated and bustling scene. All were busily occupied in completing . the necessary arrangements for our campaign in the wilderness, and profiting by this short delay on the verge of civilization, to provide ourselves with all the little essentials to comfort in the nomadic life we were to lead for the ensuing summer months. Gradually, however, every thing — the materiel of the camp, men, horses, and even mules — settled into its place, and by the 10th we were ready to depart ; but, before we mount our horses, I will give a short de- scription of the party with which I performed this service. I had collected in the neighborhood of St. Louis twenty-one men, prin- cipally Creole and Canadian voyugeurs , who had become familiar with prairie life in the service of the fur companies in the Indian country. Mr. Charles Preuss, a native of Germany, was my assistant in the topographi- cal part of the survey. L. Maxwell, of Kaskaskia, had been engaged as hunter, and Christopher Carson (more familiarly known, for his exploits in the mountains, as Kit Carson) was our guide. The persons engaged in St. Louis were : Clement Lambert, J. B. L’Esperance, J. B. Lefevre, Benjamin Potra, Louis Gouin, J. B. Dumes, Basil Lajeunessej Francois Tessier, Benjamin Cadotte, Joseph Clement, Daniel Simonds, Leonard Benoit, Michel Morly, Baptiste Bernier, Honore Ayot, Frangois Latulippe, Frangois Badeau, Louis Menard, Joseph Ruell^ Moise Chardonnais, Auguste Janisse, Ra- phael Proue. 10 t 174 ] In addition to these, Henry Brant, son of Col. J. B. Brant, of St. Louis, a young man of nineteen years of age, and Randolph, a lively boy of twelve, son of the Hon. Thomas H. Benton, accompanied me, for the de- velopment of mind and body which such an expedition would give. We were all well armed and mounted, with the exception of eight men, who conducted as many carts, in which were packed our stores, with the bag- gage and instruments, and which were each drawn by two mules. A few loose horses, and four oxen, which had been added to our stock of pro- visions, completed the train. We sat out on the morning of the 10th, which happened to be Friday — a circumstance which our men did not fail to remember and recall during the hardships and vexations of the ensuing journey. Mr. Cyprian Chouteau, to whose kindness, during our stay at his house, we were much indebted, accompanied us several miles on our way, until we met an Indian, whom he had' engaged to conduct us on the first thirty or forty miles, where he was to consign us to the ocean of prairie, which, we were told, stretched without interruption almost to the base of the Rocky mountains. From the belt of wood which borders the Kansas, in which we had passed several good-looking Indian farms, we suddenly emerged on the prairies, which received us at the outset with some of their striking char- acteristics ; for here and there rode an Indian, and but a few miles distant heavy clouds of smoke were rolling before the fire. In about ten miles we reached the Santa Fe road, along which we continued for a short time, and encamped early on a small stream ; having travelled about eleven miles. During our journey, it was the customary practice to encamp an hour or two before sunset, when the carts were disposed so as to form a sort of barricade around a circle some eighty yards in diameter. The tents were pitched, and the horses hobbled and turned loose to graze ; and but a few minutes elapsed before the cooks of the messes, of which there were four, were busily engaged in preparing the evening meal. At nightfall, the horses, mules, and oxen, were driven in and picketed— that is, secured by a halter, of which one end was tied to a small steel - shod picket) and driven into the ground ; the halter being twenty or thirty feet long, which enabled them to obtain a little food during the night. When we had reached a part of the country where such a precaution be- came necessary, the carts being regularly arranged for defending the camp, guard was mounted at eight o’clock, consisting of three men, who were relieved every two hours ; the morning watch being horse guard for the day. At daybreak, the camp was roused, the animals turned loose to graze, and breakfast generally over between six and seven o’clock, when we resumed our march, making regularly a halt at noon for one or two hours. Such was usually the order of the day, except when accident of country forced a variation; which, however, happened but rarely. Wc travelled the next day along the Santa Fe road, which we left in the af= ternoon, and encamped late in the evening on a small creek, called by the Indians Mishmagwi. Just as we arrived at camp, one of the horses set off at full speed on his return, and was followed by others. Several men were sent in pursuit, and returned with the fugitives about midnight, with the exception of one man, who did not make his appearance until morning. He had lost his way in the darkness of the night, and slept on the prairie. Shortly after midnight it began to rain heavily, and, as our tents were of light and thin cloth, they offered but little obstruction to H [ 1^4 ] rain , we were all well soaked, and glad when morning came. We had a rainy march on the 12th, but the weather grew fine as the day advanced. We encamped in a remarkably beautiful situation on the Kansas bluffs, which commanded a fine view of the river valley, here from three to four miles wide. The central portion was occupied by a broad belt ot heavy timber, and nearer the hills the prairies were of the richest verdure. One of the oxen was killed here for food. We reached the ford of the Kansas late in the afternoon of the 14th, where the river was two hundred and thirty yards wide, and commenced immediately preparations for crossing. I had expected to find the river fordable ; but it had been swollen by the late rains, and was sweeping by with an angry current, yellow and turbid as the Missouri. Up to this point, the road we had travelled, was a remarkably fine one, well beaten, and level — the usual road of a prairie country. By our route, the ford was one hundred miles from the mouth of the Kansas river. Several mounted men led the way into the stream, to swim across. The animals were driven in after them, and in a few minutes all had reached the opposite bank in safety, with the exception of the oxen, which swam some dis- tance down the river, and, returning to the right bank, were not got over until the next morning. In the mean time, the carts had been unloaded and dismantled, and an India-rubber boat, which I had brought with me for the survey of the Platte river, placed in the water. The boat was twenty feet long and five broad, and on it were placed the body and wheels of a cart, with the load belonging to it, and three men with paddles. The velocity of the current, and the inconvenient freight, rendering it difficult to be managed, Basil Lajeunesse, one of our best swimmers, took in his teeth a line attached to the boat, and swam ahead in order to reach a footing as soon as possible, and assist in drawing her over. In this man- ner, six passages had been successfully made, and as many carts with their contents, and a greater portion of the party, deposited on the left bank ; but night was drawing near, and, in our anxiety to have all over before the darkness closed in, I put upon the boat the remaining two carts, with their accompanying load. The mari at the helm was timid on water, and, in his alarm, capsized the boat. Carts, barrels, boxes, and bales, were in a moment floating down the current : but all the men who were on the shore jumped into the water, without stopping to think if they could swim, and almost everything — even heavy articles, such as guns and lead — was recovered. Two of the men, who could not swim, came nigh being drowned, and all the sugar belonging to one of the messes wasted its swe,ets on the muddy waters; but our heaviest loss was a bag of coffee, which con- tained nearly all our provision. It was a loss which none but a traveller in a strange and inhospitable country can appreciate ; and often afterward, when excessive toil and long marching had overcome us with fatigue and weariness, we remembered and mourned over our loss in the Kansas. Carson and Maxwell had been much in the water yesterday, and both, in consequence, were taken ill. The former continuing so, I remained in camp. A number of Kansas Indians visited us to-day. Going up to one of the groups who were scattered among the trees, I found one sitting on the ground, among some of the men, gravely and fluently speaking French, with as much facility and as little embarrassment as any of my own party, who were nearly all of French origin. 12 t 174 ] On all sides was heard the strange language of his own people, wild, and harmonizing well with their appearance. I listened to him for some time with feelings of strange curiosity and interest. He was now appa- rently^thirty-five years of age *, and, on inquiry, I learned that he had been at St. Louis when a boy, and there had learned the French language. From one of the Indian women 1 obtained a fine cow and calf in exchange for a yoke of oxen. Several of them brought us vegetables, pumpkins, onions, beans, and lettuce. One of them brought butter, and from a half- breed near the river I had the good fortune to obtain some twenty or thirty pounds of coffee. The dense timber in which we had encamped interfered with astronomical observations, and our wet and damaged stores required exposure to the sun. Accordingly, the tents were struck early the next morning, and, leaving camp at six o’clock, we moved about seven miles up the river, to a handsome, open prairie, some twenty feet above the water, where the fine grass afforded a luxurious repast to our horses. During the day We occupied ourselves in making astronomical observa- tions, in order to lay down the country to this place ; it being our custom to keep up our map regularly in the field, which we found attended with many advantages. The men were kept busy in drying the provisions, painting the cart covers, and otherwise completing our equipage, until the afternoon, when powder Was distributed to them, and they spent some hours in' firing at a mark. We were now fairly in the Indian country, and it began to be time to prepare for the chances of the wilderness. Friday , June 17. — The weather yesterday had not permitted us to make the observations I was desirous to obtain here, and I therefore did not move to-day. The people continued their target firing. In the steep bank of the river here, were nests of innumerable swallows, into one of which a large prairie snake had got about half his body, and was occupied in eating the young birds. The old ones were flying about in great distress, darting at him, and vainly endeavoring to drive him off. A shot wound- ed him, and, being killed, he was cut open, and eighteen young swallows were found in his body. A sudden storm, that burst upon us in the after - noon', cleared away in a brilliant sunset, followed by a clear night, which enabled us to determine our position in longitude 95° 38' 05", and in lati- tude 39° 06' 40". A party of emigrants to the Columbia river, under the eharge of Dr. White, an agent of the Government in Oregon Territory, were about three weeks in advance of us. They consisted of men, women, and children. There were sixty-four men, and sixteen or seventeen families. They had a considerable number of cattle, and were transporting their household furniture in large heavy wagons. I understood that there had been much sickness among them, and that they had lost several children. One of the party, who had lost his child, and whose wife was very ill, had left them about one hundred miles hence on the prairies; and as a hunter, who had accompanied them, visited our camp this evening, we availed ourselves of his return to the States to write to our friends. The morning of the 18th was very unpleasant. A fine rain was falling, with cold wind from the north, and mists made the river hills look dark and gloomy. We left our camp at seven, journeying along the foot of the hills which border the Kansas valley, generally about three miles wide, and extremely rich. We halted for dinner, after a march of about thir- 13 [ 174 ] teen miles, on the banks of on6 of the many little tributaries to the Kan- sas, which look like trenches in the prairie, and are usually well timbered. After crossing this stream, I rode off some miles to the left, attracted by the appearance of a cluster of huts near the mouth of the Vermilliqn. It was a large but deserted Kansas village, scattered in an open wood, along the margin of the stream, on a spot chosen with the customary Indian fondness for beauty of scenery. The Pawnees had attacked it in the early spring. Some of the houses were burnt, and others blackened with smoke, and weeds were already getting possession of the cleared places. Riding up the Vermillion river, I reached the ford in time to meet the carts, and, crossing, encamped on its western side. The weather continued cool, the thermometer being this evening as low as 49°; but the night was sufficiently clear for astronomical observations, which placed us in longitude 96° 04’ 07", and latitude 39° 15' 19". At sunset, the barometer was at 28.845, thermometer 64°. We breakfasted the next morning at half past five, and left our encamp- ment early. The morning was cool, the thermometer being at 45°. Quit- ting the river bottom, the road ran along the uplands, over a rolling country, generally in view of the Kansas, from eight to twelve miles distant. Many large boulders, of a very compact sandstone, of various shades of red, some of them four or five tons in weight, were scattered along the hills; and many beautiful plants in flower, among which the amorpha canescens was a characteristic, enlivened the green of the prairie. At the heads of the ravines I remarked, occasionally, thickets of salix longifolia , the most common willow of the country. We travelled nineteen miles, and pitched our tents at evening on the head waters of a small creek, now nearly dry, but having in its bed several fine springs. The barometer indicated a considerable rise in the country — here about fourteen hundred feet above the sea — and the increased elevation appeared already to have some slight influence upon the vegetation. The night was cold, with a heavy dew; the thermometer at 10 p. m. standing at 46°, barometer 28.483. 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 bright sky ; and at 7 o’clock we were on the march. The country to-day was rather more broken, rising still, and covered every where with fragments of siliceous limestone, particularly on the summits, where they were small and thickly strewed as pebbles on the shore of the sea. In these exposed situations grew but few plants; though, whenever the soil was good and protected from the winds, in the creek bottoms and ravines, and on the slopes, they flourished abundantly; among them the amorpha , still re- taining its characteristic place. We crossed, at 10 a. m., the Big Vermillion which has a rich bottom of about one mile in breadth, one-third of which is occupied by timber. Making our usual halt at noon, after a day’s march-of twenty four miles, we reached the Big Blue, and encamped on the uplands of the western side, near a small creek, where was a fine large spring of very cold water. This is a clear and handsome stream, about one hundred and twenty feet wide, running, with a rapid current through a well-timbered valley. To-day antelope were seen running over the hills, and at evening Carson brought us a fine deer. Longitude of the camp 96° 32' 35", latitude 39° 45' 08". Thermometer at sunset 75°. A pleasant southerly breeze and fine morning had given place to a gale, with indications of bad weather; when, after a march of ten miles. 14 [ 174 ] we halted to noon on a small creek, where the water stood in deep pools. In the bank of the creek limestone made its appearance in a stratum about one foot thick. In the afternoon, the people seemed to suffer for want of water. The road led along a high dry ridge; dark lines of timber indicated the heads of streams in the plains below ; but there was no water near, and the day was very oppressive, with a hot wind, and the thermometer at 90°. Along our route the ‘amorpha has been in very abundant but va- riable bloom — in some places bending beneath the weight of purple clus- ters ; in others without a flower. It seems to love best the sunny slopes, with a dark soil and southern exposure. Every where the rose is met with, and reminds us of cultivated gardens and civilization. It is scat- tered over the prairies in small bouquets, and, when glittering in the dews and waving in the pleasant breeze of the early morning, is the most beau- tiful of the prairie flowers. The arternisia, absinthe, or prairie sage, as it is variously called, “is increasing in size, and glitters like silver, as the southern breeze turns up its leaves to the sun. All these plants have their insect inhabitants, variously colored ; taking generally the hue of the flower on which they live. The arternisia has its small fly accompany- ing it through every change of elevation and latitude; and wherever I have seen the asclepias tuberosa , I have always remarked, too, on the dower a large butterfly, so nearly resembling it in color as to be distin- guishable at a little distance only by the motion of its wings. Travelling on the fresh traces of the Oregon emigrants relieves a little the loneliness of the road ; and to-night, after a march of twenty-two miles, we halted on a small creek, which had been one of their encampments. As we ad- vance westward, the soil appears to be getting more sandy, and the sur- face rock, an erratic deposite of sand and gravel, rests here on a bed of coarse yellow and gray and very friable sandstone. Evening closed over with rain and its usual attendant, hordes of musquitoes, with which we were annoyed for the first time. June 22 . — We enjoyed at breakfast this morning a luxury, very unusual in this country, in a cup of excellent coffee, with cream from our cow. Being milked at night, cream was thus had in the morning. Our mid-day halt was at Wyeth’s creek, in the bed of which were numerous boulders of dark ferruginous sandstone, mingled with others of the red sandstone, already mentioned. Here a pack of cards, lying loose on the grass, mark- ed an encampment of our Oregon emigrants ; and it was at the close of the day when we made our bivouac in the midst of some well-timbered ravines near the Little Blue, twenty-four miles from our camp of the pre- ceding night. Crossing the next morning a number of handsome creeks, with clear water and sandy beds, we reached, at 10 a. m., a very beautiful wooded stream, about thirty-five feet wide, called Sandy creek, and some- times, as the Ottoes frequently winter there, the Ottoe fork. The country has become very sandy, and the plants less varied and abundant, with the exception of the amorpha , which rivals the grass in quantity, though not so forward as it has been found to the eastward. At the Big Trees, where we had intended to noon, no water was to be found. The bed of the little creek was perfectly dry, and, on the adjacent sandy bottom, cacti , for the first time, made their appearance. We made here a short delay in search of water; and, after a hard day’s march of twenty-eight miles, encamped, at 5 o’clock, on the Little Blue, where our arrival made a scene of the Arabian desert. As fast as they arrived, 15 [ 174 ] men and horses rushed into the stream, where they bathed and drank to- gether in common enjoyment. We were now in the range of the Paw- nees, who were accustomed to infest this- part of the country, stealing horses from companies on their way to the mountains, and, when in suffi- . cient force, openly attacking and plundering them, and subjecting them to various kinds of insult. For the first time, therefore, guard was mount- ed to-night. Our route the next morning lay up the valley, which, bor- dered by hills with graceful slopes, looked uncommonly green and beam tiful. The stream was about fifty feet wide, and three or four deep, fringed by cotton wood and willow, with frequent groves of oak tenanted by flocks of turkeys. Game here, too, made its appearance in greater plenty. Elk were irequently seen on the hills, and now and then an an- telope bounded across our path, or a deer broke from the groves. The road in the afternoon was over the upper prairies, several miles from the river, and we encamped at sunset on one of its small tributaries, where an abundance of prele ( equisetum ) afforded fine forage to our tired ani- mals. We had travelled thirty-one miles. A heavy bank of black clouds in the west came on us in a storm between nine and ten, preceded by a violent wind. The rain fell in such torrents that it was difficult to breathe facing the wind, the thunder rolled incessantly, and the whole sky was tremulous with lightning; now and then illuminated by a blinding flash, succeeded by pitchy darkness. Carson had the watch from ten to mid- night, and to him had been assigned our young compagnons de voyage , Messrs. Brant and R. Benton. This was their first night on guard, and such an introduction did not augur very auspiciously of the pleasures of the expedition. Many things conspired to render their situation uncom- fortable ; stories of desperate and bloody Indian fights were rife in the camp ; our position was badly chosen, surrounded on all sides by timbered hollows, and occupying an area of several hundred feet, so that necessa- rily the guards were far apart; and now and then I could hear Randolph, as if relieved by the sound of a voice in the darkness, calling out to the sergeant of the guard, to direct his attention to some imaginary alarm ; but they stood it out, and took their turn regularly afterward. The next morning we had a specimen of the false alarms to which all parties in these wild regions are subject. Proceeding up the valley, ob- jects were seen on the opposite hills, which disappeared before a glass could be brought to bear upon them. A man, who was a short distance in the rear, came spurring up in great haste, shouting Indians ! Indians! He had been near enough to see and count them, according to his report, and had made out twenty-seven. I immediately halted ; arms were ex- amined and put in order ; the usual preparations made ; and Kit Carson, springing upon one of the hunting horses, crossed the river, and galloped off into the opposite prairies, to obtain some certain intelligence of their movements. Mounted on a fine horse, without a saddle, and scouring bareheaded over the prairies, Kit was one of the finest pictures of a horseman I have ever seen. A short time enabled him to discover that the Indian war party of twenty-seven consisted of six elk, who had been gazing curiously at our caravan as it passed by, and were now scampering off at full speed. This was our first alarm, and its excitement broke agreeably on the mo- notony of the day. At our noon halt, the men were exercised at a target ; and in the evening we pitched our tents at a Pawnee encampment of last 16 [ m ] July. They had apparently killed buffalo here, as many bones were lying about, and the frames where the hides had been stretched were yet standing. The road of the day had kept the valley, which is sometimes rich and well timbered, though the country is generally sandy. Mingled • with the usual plants, a thistle ( cardans leucographus) had for the last # day or two made its appearance ; and along the river bottom, tradescantia (virginica) and milk plant {asclepias syriaca*) in considerable quantities. Our march to-day had been twenty-one miles, and the astronomical ob- servations gave us a chronometric longitude of 9S° 22' 12", and latitude 40° 26' 50". We were moving forward at seven in the morning, and in about five miles reached a fork of the Blue, where the road leaves that river, and crosses over to the Platte. No water was to be found on the dividing ridge, and the casks were filled, and the animals here allowed a short repose. The road led across a high and level prairie ridge, where were but few plants, and those principally thistle [car daus leucographus ,) and a kind of dwarf artemisia. Antelope were seen frequently during the morning, which was very stormy. Squalls of rain, with thunder and lightning, were around us in every direction ; and while we were envel- oped in one of them, a flash, which seemed to scorch our eyes as it passed, struck in the prairie within a few hundred feet, sending up a column of dust. Crossing on the way several Pawnee roads to the Arkansas, we reach- ed, in about twenty-one miles from our halt on the Blue, what is called the coast of the Nebraska, or Platte river. This had seemed in the dis- tance a range of high and broken hills ; but on a nearer approach were found to be elevations of forty to sixty feet, into which the wind had worked the sand. They were covered with the usual fine grasses of the country, and bordered the eastern side of the ridge on a breadth of about two miles. Change of soil and country appeared here to have produced sorhe change in the vegetation. Cacti were numerous, and all the plants of the region appeared to flourish among the warm hills. Among them the amorpha , in full bloom, was remarkable for its large and luxuriant purple 'clusters. From the foot of the coast, a distance of two miles across the level bottom brought us to our encampment on the shore of the river, about twenty miles below the head of Grand island, which lay extended before us, covered with dense and heavy woods. From the mouth of (he Kansas, according to our reckoning, we had travelled three hundred and twenty-eight miles; and the geological formation of the country we had passed over consisted of lime and sandstone, covered by the same erratic deposite of sand and gravel which forms the surface rock of the prairies between the Missouri and Mississippi rivers. Except in some occasional limestone boulders, I had met with no fossils. The elevation of the Platte valley above the sea is here about two thousand feet. The astronomi- cal observations of the night placed us in longitude 98° 45' 49", latitude 40° 41’ 06". * “ This plant is very odoriferous, and in Canada charms the traveller, especially when passing through woods in the evening. The F rench there eat the tender shoots in the spring, as we do asparagus. The natives make a sugar of the flowers, gathering them in the morning when they are covered with dew, and collect the cotton from the pods to fill their beds. On account of the silki- ness of this cotton, Parkinson calls the plant Virginian silk.” — Loudon's Encyclopedia of Plants. The Sioux Indians of the Upper Platte eat the young pods of this plant, boiling them with the meat of the buffalo. 17 [ 174 ] June 27 . — The animals were somewhat fatigued by their march of yes- terday, arid, after a short journey of eighteen miles along the river bottom, I encamped near the head of Grand island, in longitude, by observation, 99° 05' 24", latitude 40° 39' 32". The soil here was light but rich, though in some places rather sandy ; and, with the exception of a scattered fringe along the bank, the timber, consisting principally of poplar, (populus mo - nilifera ,) elm, and hackberry, ( celtis crassifoliu ,) is confined almost en- tirely to the islands. June 28. — We halted to noon at an open reach of the river, which oc- cupies rather more than a fourth of the valley, here only about four miles broad. The camp had been disposed with the usual precaution, the horses grazing at a little distance, attended by the guard, and we were ail sitting quietly at our dinner on the grass, when suddenly we heard the startling cry “ du rnonde /” In an instant, every man’s weapon was in his hand, the horses were driven in, hobbled and picketed, and horsemen were galloping at full speed in the direction of the new comers, screaming and yelling with the wildest excitement. “Get ready, my lads!” said the leader of the approaching party to his men, when our wild-looking horsemen were discovered bearing down upon them ; “nous allons attraper des coups dt baguette.” They proved to be a small party of fourteen, under the charge of a man named John Lee, and, with their baggage and provisions strapped to their backs, were making their way on foot to the frontier. A brief account of their fortunes will give some idea of naviga- tion in the Nebraska. Sixty days since, they had left the mouth of Lar- amie’s fork, some three hundred miles above, in barges laden with the furs of the American Fur Company. They started with the annual flood, and, drawing but nine inches water, hoped to make a speedy and pros- perous voyage to St. Louis ; but, after a lapse of forty days, found them- selves only one hundred and thirty miles from their point of departure. They came down rapidly as far as Scott’s bluffs, where their difficulties began. Sometimes they came upon places where the water was spread over a great extent, and here they toiled from morning until night, en- deavoring to drag their boat through the sands, making only two or three miles in as many days. Sometimes they would enter an arm of the river, where there appeared a fine channel, and, after descending prosperously for eight or ten miles, would come suddenly upon dry sands, and be com- pelled to return, dragging their boat for days against the rapid current • and at otners, they came upon places where the water lay in holes, and, getting out to float oft* their boat, would fall into water up to their necks, and the next moment tumble over against a sandbar. Discouraged, at length, and finding the Platte growing every day more shallow, they dis- charged the principal part of their cargoes one hundred and thirty miles below Fort Laramie, which they secured as well a% possible, and, leaving a few men to guard them, attempted to continue their voyage, laden with some light furs and their personal baggage. After fifteen or twenty days more struggling in the sands, during which they made but one hundred and forty miles, they sunk their barges, made a cache of their remaining furs and property, in trees on the bank, and, packing on his back what each man could carry, had commenced, the day before we encountered them, their journey on foot to St. Louis. We laughed then at their forlorn and vagabond appearance, and, in our turn, a month or two afterwards, furnished the same occasion for merri- 2 18 r 174 ] ment to others. Even thoir stock of tobacco, that sine qua non of a voy-~ ageur, without which the night fire is gloomy, was entirely exhausted. However, we shortened their homeward journey by a small supply from our own provision. They gave us the welcome intelligence that the buf- falo were abundant some two days’ march in advance, and made us a present of some choice pieces, which were a very acceptable change from our salt pork. In the interchange of news, and the renewal of old ac- quaintanceships, we found wherewithal to fill a busy hour ; then we mounted our horses, and they shouldered their packs, and we shook hands and parted. Among them, I had found. ^n old companion on the northern prairie, a hardened and hardly served veteran of the mountains, who had been as much hacked and scarred as an old moustache of Napoleon’s “old guard.” He flourished in the sobriquet of La Tulipe, and his real name I never knew. Finding that he was going to the States only because his company was bound in that direction, and that he was rather more willing to return with me, I took him again into my service. We trav- elled this day but seventeen miles. At our evening camp, about sunset, three figures were discovered ap- proaching, which our glasses made out to be Indians. They proved to be Cheyennes — two men, and a boy of thirteen. About a month since, they had left their people on the south fork of the river, some three hun- dred miles to the westward, and a party of only four in number had been to the Pawnee villages on a horse-stealing excursion, from which they were returning unsuccessful. They were miserably mounted on wild horses from the Arkansas plains, and had no other weapons than bows and long spears; and had they been discovered by the Pawnees, could not, by any possibility, have escaped. They were mortified by their ill success, and said the Pawnees were cowards, who shut up their horses in their lodges at night. I invited them to supper with me, and Randolph and the young Cheyenne, who had been eyeing each other suspiciously and curiously, soon became intimate friends. After supper, we sat down on the grass, and I placed a sheet of paper between us, on which they traced rudely, but with a certain degree of relative truth, the watercourses of the country which lay between us and their villages, and of which I desired to have some information. Their companions, they told us, had taken a nearer route over the hills ; but they had mounted one of the sum- mits to spy out the country, whence they had caught a glimpse of our party, and, confident of good treatment at the hands of the whites, hastened to join company. Latitude of the camp 40° 39' 51". We made the next morning sixteen miles. I remarked that the ground was covered in many places with an efflorescence of salt, and the plants were not numerous. In the bottoms was frequently seen tradescantia , and on the dry lenchas were car duns, cactus, and amorpha. A high wind during the morning had increased to a violent gale from the northwest, which made our afternoon ride cold and unpleasant. We had the wel- come sight of two buffaloes on one of the large islands, and encamped at a clump of timber about seven miles from our noon halt, after a day’s march of twenty-two miles. The air was keen the next morning at sunrise, the thermometer stand- ing at 44°, and it was sufficiently cold to make overcoats very comfortable. A few miles brought us into the midst of the buffalo, swarming in im- mense numbers over the plains, where they had left scarcely a blade of 19 [ 174 ] grass standing. Mr. Preuss, who was sketching at a little distance in* the rear, had at first noted them as large groves of timber. In the sight of such a mass of life, the traveller feels a strange emotion of grandeur. We had heard from a distance a dull and confused murmuring, and, when we came in view of their dark masses, there was not one among us who did not feel his heart beat quicker. It was the early part of the day, when the herds are feeding; and every where they were in motion. Here and there a huge old bull was rolling in the grass, and clouds of dust rose in the air from various parts of the bands, each the scene of some obstinate fight. Indians and buffalo make the poetry and life of the prairie, and our camp was full of their exhilaration. In place of the quiet monotony of the march, relieved only by the cracking of the whip, .and an “ avance done! enfant de garce !” shouts and songs resounded from every part of the line, and our evening camp was always the com- mencement of a feast, which terminated only with our departure on the following morning. At. any time of the night might be seen pieces of the most delicate and choicest meat, roasting en appolas , on sticks around the fire, and the guard wbre never without company. With pleasant weather and no enemy to fear, an abundance of the most excellent meat, and no scarcity of bread or tobacco, they were enjoying the oasis of a voyageur’s life. Three cows were killed to-day. Kit Carson had shot one, and was continuing the chase in the midst of another herd, when his horse fell headlong, but sprang up and joined the flying band. Though considerably hurt, he had the good fortune to break no bones ; and Maxwell, who was mounted on a fleet hunter, captured the runaway after a hard chase. He was on the point of shooting him, to avoid the loss of his bridle, (a hand- somely mounted Spanish one,) when he found that his horse was able to come up with him. Animals are frequently lost in this way ; and it is necessary to keep close watch over them, -in the vicinity of the buffalo, in the midst of which they scour off to the plains, and are rarely retaken. One of our mules took a sudden freak into his head, and joined a neigh- boring band to-day. As we were not in a condition to lose horses, I sent several men in pursuit, and remained in camp, in the hope of recovering him; but lost the afternoon to no purpose, as we did not see him again. Astronomical observations placed us in longitude 100° 05' 47", latitude 40° 49' 55". July 1. — Along our road to-day the prairie bottom was more elevated and dry, and the hills which border the right side of the river higher, and more broken and picturesque in the outline. The country, too, was bet- ter timbered. As we were riding quietly along the bank, a grand herd of buffalo, some seven or eight hundred in number, came crowding up from the river, where they had been to drink, and commenced crossing the plain slowly, eating as they went. The wind was favorable ; the coolness of the morning invited to exercise; the ground was apparently good, and the distance across the prairie (two or three miles) gave us a fine opportu- nity to charge them before they could get among the river hills. It was too^fine a prospect for a chase to be lost ; and, halting for a few moments, the hunters were brought up and saddled, and Kit Carson, Maxwell, and I, started together. They were now somewhat less than half a mile dis- tant, and we rode easily along unjtil within about three hundred yards, when a sudden agitation, a wavering in the band, and a galloping to and fro of some which were scattered along the skirts, gave us the intimation 20 C 174 ] that we were discovered. We started together at a hand gallop, riding steadily abreast of each other, and here the interest of the chase became so engrossingly intense, that we were sensible to nothing else. We were now closing upon them rapidly, and the front of the mass was already in rapid motion for the hills, and in a few seconds the movement had communicated itself to the whole herd. A crowd of bulls, as usual, brought up the rear, and every now and then some of them faced about, and then dashed on after the band a short distance, and turned and looked again, as if more than half inclined to stand and fight. In a few moments, however, during which we had been quickening our pace, the rout was universal, and we were going over the ground like a hurricane. When at about thirty yards, we gave the usual shout, (the hunter’s pas de charge,) and broke into the herd. We enter- ed on the side, the mass giving way in every direction in their heedless course. Many of the bulls, less active and less fleet than the cows, pay- ing no attention to the ground, and occupied solely with the hunter, were precipitated to the earth with great force, rolling over and over with the violence of the shock, and hardly distinguishable in* the dust. We sepa- rated on entering, each singling out his game. My horse was a trained hunter, famous in the west under the name of Proveau, and, with his eyes flashing, and the foam flying from his mouth, sprang on after the cow like a tiger. In a few moments he brought me alongside of her, and, rising in the stirrups, I fired at the distance of a yard, the ball entering at the termination of the long hair, and passing near the heart. She fell headlong at the report of the gun, and, checking my horse, I looked around for my companions. At a little distance, Kit was on the ground, engaged in tying his horse to the horns of a cow which he was preparing to cut up. Among the scattered bands, at some distance below, I caught a glimpse of Maxwell ; and while I was looking, a light wreath of white smoke curled away from his gun, from which I was too far to hear the report. Nearer, and between me and the hills, towards which they were directing their course, was the body of the herd, and, giving my horse the rein, we dashed after them. A thick cloud of dust hung upon their rear, which filled my mouth and eyes, and nearly smoth- ered me. In the midst of this I could see nothing, and the buffalo were not distinguishable until within thirty feet. They crowded together more densely still as I came upon them, and rushed along in such a compact body, that I could not obtain an entrance — the horse almost leaping upon them. In a few moments the mass divided to the right and left, the horns clattering with a noise heard above every thing else, and my horse darted into the opening. Five or six bulls charged on us as we dashed along the line, but were left far behind ; and, singling out a cow, I gave her my fire, but struck too high. She gave a tremendous leap, and scoured on swifter than before. I reined up my horse, and the band swept on like a torrent, and left the place quiet and clear. Our chase had led us into dangerous ground. A prairie-dog village, so thickly settled that there were three or four holes in every twenty yards square, occupied the whole bottom for nearly two miles in length. Looking around, I saw only one of the hunters, nearly out of sight, and the long dark line of our caravan crawling along, three or four miles distant. After a march of twenty-four miles, we encamped at nightfall, one mile and a half above the lower end of Brady’s island. The breadth of this arm of the river was eight hun 21 [ 174 ] dred and eighty yards, and the water nowhere two feet in depth. The island bears the name of a man killed on this spot some years ago. His party had encamped here, three in company, and one of the number went off to hunt, leaving Brady and his companion together. These two had frequently quarrelled, and on the hunter’s return he found Brady dead, and was told that he had shot himself accidentally. He was buried here on the bank; but, as usual, the wolves had torn him out, and some human bones that were lying on the ground we supposed were his: Troops of wolv.es, that were hanging on the skirts of the buffalo, kept up an uninter- rupted howling during the night, venturing almost into camp. In the morning, they were sitting at a short distance, barking, and impatiently waiting our departure, to fall upon the bones. July 2 . — The morning was cool and smoky. Our road led closer to the hills, which here increased in elevation, presenting an outline of conical peaks three hundred to five hundred feet high. Some timber, apparently pine, grows in the ravines, and streaks of clay or sand whiten their slopes. We crossed during the morning a number of hollows, timbered princi- pally with box elder* (acer negundo ,J poplar, and elm. Brady’s island is well wooded, and all the river along which our road led to-day may, in general, be called tolerably well timbered. We passed near an encamp- ment of the Oregon emigrants, where they appear to have reposed several days. A variety of household articles were scattered about, and they had probably disburdened themselves here of many things not absolutely ne- cessary. I had left the usual road before the mid-day halt, and in the af- ternoon, having sent several men in advance to reconnoitre, marched di- rectly for the mouth of the South fork. On our arrival, the horsemen were sent in and scattered about the river to search the best fording places, and the carts followed immediately. The stream is here divided by an island into two channels. The southern is four hundred and fifty feet wide, having eighteen or twenty inches water in the deepest places. With the exception of a few dry bars, the bed of the river is generally quicksands, in which the carts began to sink rapidly so soon as the mules halted, so that it was necessary to keep them constantly in motion. The northern channel, two thousand two hundred and fifty feet wide, was somewhat deeper, having frequently three feet water in the numer- ous small channels, with a bed of coarse gravel. The whole breadth of the Nebraska, immediately below the junction, is five thousand three hun- dred and fifty feet. All our fequipage had reached theleft bank safely at 6 o’clock, having to-day mEfde twenty miles. We encampted at the point of land immediately at the junction of the North and South forks. Be- tween the streams is a low rich prairie, extending from their confluence eighteen miles westwardly to the bordering hills, where it is five and a half miles wide. It is covered with a luxuriant growth of grass, and along the banks is a slight and scattered fringe of cottonwood and willow. In the buffalo trails and wallows, I remarked saline efflorescences, to which a rapid evaporation in the great heat of the sun probably contrib- utes, as the soil is entirely unprotected by timber. In the vicinity of these places there was a bluish grass, which the cattle refuse to eat, called by the voyageurs “ herbe salee /’ (salt grass.) The latitude of the junction is 41 ° 04 ' 47 ", and longitude, by chronometer and lunar distances, 100 ° 49 ' 43 ". The elevation above the sea is about two thousand seven hundred feet. The hunters came in with a fat cow; and, as we had labored hard, we enjoyed 22 [ 174 ] well a supper of roasted ribs and boudins , the chef d’ oeuvre of a prairie cook. Mosquitoes thronged about us this evening; but, by 10 o’clock, when the thermometer had fallen to 47°, they had all disappeared. July 3. — As this was to be a point in our homeward journey, I made a cache (a term used in all this country for what- is hidden in the ground) of a barrel of pork. It was impossible to conceal such a proceeding from the sharp eyes of our Cheyenne companions, and I therefore told them to go and see what it was they were burying. They would otherwise have not failed to return and destroy our cache , in expectation of some rich booty; but pork they dislike, and never eat. We left our camp at 9, con- tinuing up the South fork, the prairie bottom affording us a fair road ; but in the long grass we roused myriads of mosquitoes and flies, from which our horses suffered severely. The day was smoky, with a pleasant breeze from the south, and the plains on the opposite side were covered with buf- falo. Having travelled twenty-five miles, we encamped at 6 in the even- ing; and the men were sent across the river for wood, as there is none here on the left bank. Our fires were partially made of the bow de vache, the dry excrement of the buffalo, which, like that of the camel in the Ara- bian deserts, furnishes to the traveller a very good substitute for wood, burning like turf. Wolves in great numbers surrounded us during the night, crossing and recrossing from the opposite herds to our camp, and howling and trotting about in the river until morning. July 4. — The morning was very smoky, the ‘sun shining dimly and red, as in a thick fog. The camp was roused with a salute at daybreak, and from our scanty store a portion of what our Indian friends called the “red fire water” served out to the men. While we were at breakfast, a buffala calf broke through the camp, followed by a couple of wolves. In its fright, it had probably mistaken us for a band of buffalo. The wolves were obliged to make a circuit around the camp, so that the calf got a lit- tle the start, and strained every nerve to reach a large herd at the foot of the hills, about two miles distant ; but first one, and then another, and another wolf joined in the chase, until his pursuers amounted to twenty or thirty, and they ran him down before he could reach his friends. There were a few bulls near the place, and one of them attacked the wolves, and tried to rescue him ; but was driven off immediately, and the little animal fell an easy prey, half devoured before he was dead. We watched the chase with the interest always felt for the Aveak ; and had there been a saddled horse at hand, he would have fared better. Leaving camp, our road soon approached the hills, in which strata of a marl like that of the Chimney rock, hereafter described, make their appearance, It is probably of this rock that the hills on the right bank of the Platte, a little below the junction, are composed, and which are worked by the winds and rains into sharp peaks and cones, giving them, in contrast to the sur- rounding level region, something of a picturesque appearance. We crossed this morning numerous beds of the small creeks which, in the time of rains and melting snow, pour down from the ridge, bringing down with them always great quantities of sand and gravel, Avhich have gradu- ally raised their beds four to ten feet above the level of the prairie, which they cross, making each one of them a minia'ture Po. Raised in this way above the surrounding prairie, without any bank, the long yellow and winding line of their beds resembles a causeway from the hills to the river. Many spots on the prairie are yellow with sunflower, ( helianthus .) 23 [ 174 J As we were riding slowly along this afternoon, clouds of dust in the ravines, among the hills to the right, suddenly attracted our attention, and in a few minutes column after column of buffalo came galloping down, making directly to the river. By the time the leading herds had reached the water, the prairie was darkened with the dense masses. Immediately • before us, when the bands first came down into the valley, stretched an unbroken line, the head of which was lost among the river hills on th^ opposite side ; and still they poured down from the ridge on our right. From hill to hill, the prairie bottom was certainly not less than two miles wide ; and, allowing the animals to be ten feet apart, and only ten in a line, there were already eleven thousand in view. Some idea may thus be formed of their number when they had occupied the whole plain. In a short time they surrounded us on every side ; extending for several miles in the rear, and forward as far as the eye could reach ; leaving around us, as we advanced, an open space of only two or three hundred yards. This movement of the buffalo indicated to us the presence of Indians on the North fork. I halted earlier than usual, about forty miles from the junction, and all hands were soon busily engaged in preparing a feast to celebrate the day. The kindness of our friends at St. Louis had provided us with a large supply of excellent preserves and rich fruit cake ; and when these were added to a maccaroni soup, and variously prepared dishes of the choicest buffalo meat, crowned with a cup of coffee, and enjoyed with prairie ap- petite, we felt, as we sat in barbaric luxury around our smoking supper on the grass, a greater sensation of enjoyment than the Roman epicure at his perfumed feast. But most of all it seemed to please our Indian friends, who, in the unrestrained enjoyment of the moment, demanded to know if our “ medicine days came often.” No restraint was exercised at the hos- pitable board, and, to the great delight of his elders, our young Indian lad made himself extremely drunk. Our encampment was within a few miles of the place where the road crosses to the North fork, and various reasons led me to divide my party at this point. The North fork was the principal object of my survey; but I was desirous to ascend the South branch, with a view of obtaining some astronomical positions, and determining the mouths of its tributaries as far as St. Vrain’s fort, estimated to be some two hundred miles further up the river, and near to Long’s peak. There 1 hoped to obtain some mules, which I found would be necessary to relieve my horses. In a military point of view, I was desirous to form some opinion of the country relative to the establishment of posts on a line connecting the settlements with the South pass of the Rocky mountains, by way of the Arkansas and the South and Laramie forks of the Platte. Crossing the country northwest- wardly from St. Vrain’s fort, to the American company’s fort at the mouth of Laramie* would give me some acquaintance with the affluents which head in the mountains between the two ; I therefore determined to set out the next morning, accompanied by Mr. Preuss and four men, Maxwell, Bernier, Ayot, and Basil Lajeunesse. Our Cheyennes, whose village lay up this river, also decided to accompany us. The party I left in charge of Clement Lambert, with orders to cross to the North fork; and at some convenient place, near to the Coulee des Frenes , make a cache of every • thing not absolutely necessary to the further progress of our expedition. From this point, using the most guarded precaution in his march through [ 174 ] 24 the country, he was to proceed to the American company’s fort at the mouth of Laramie’s fork, and await my arrival, which would be prior to the 16th, as on that and the following night would occur some occultations which I was desirous to obtain at that place. July 5. — Before breakfast, all was ready. *We had one led horse in ad- dition to those we rode, and a pack mule, destined to carry our instruments, provisions, and baggage ; the last two articles not being of very great weight. The instruments consisted of a sextant, artificial horizon, & c., a barometer, spy glass, and compass. The chronometer I of course kept on my person. 1 had ordered the cook to put up for us some flour, coffee, and sugar, and our rifles were to furnish the rest. One blanket, in addition to his saddle and saddle blanket, furnished the materials for each man’s bed, and every one was provided with a change of linen. All were armed with rifles or double barrelled guns; and, in addition to these, Maxwell and myself were furnished with excellent pistols. Thus accoutred, we took a parting breakfast with our friends, and set forth. Our journey the first day afforded nothing of any interest. We shot a buffalo toward sunset, and, having obtained some meat for our evening meal, encamped where a little timber afforded us the means of making a fire. Having disposed our meat on roasting sticks, we proceeded to un- pack our bales in search of coffee and sugar, and flour for bread. With the exception of a little parched coffee, unground, we found nothing. Our cook had neglected to put it up, or it had been somehow forgotten. Tired and hungry, with tough bull meat without salt, (for we had not been able to kill a cow,) and a little bitter coffee, we sat down in silence to our mis- erable fare, a very disconsolate party ; for yesterday’s feast was yet fresh in our memories, and this was our first brush with misfortune. Each man took his blanket, and laid himself down silently ; for the worst part of these mishaps is, that they make people ill-humored. To-day we had travelled about thirty-six miles. July 6. — Finding that our present excursion would be attended with considerable hardship, and unwilling to expose more persons than neces- sary, I determined to send Mr. Preuss back to the party. His horse, too, appeared in no condition to support the journey ; and accordingly, after breakfast, he took the road across the hills, attended by one of my most trusty men, Bernier. The ridge between the rivers is here about fifteen miles broad, and I expected he would probably strike the fork near their evening camp. At all events, he would not fail to find their trail, and re- join them the next day. We continued our journey, seven in number, including the three Chey- ennes. Our general course was southwest, up the valley of the river, which was sandy, bordered on the northern side of the valley by a low ridge ; and on the south, after seven or eight miles, the river hills became higher. Six miles from our resting place we crossed the bed of a consid- erable stream, now entirely dry — a bed of sand. In a grove of willows, near the mouth, were the remains of a considerable fort, constructed of trunks of large trees. It was apparently very old, and had probably been the scene of some hostile encounter among the roving tribes. Its soli- tude formed an impressive contrast to the picture which our imaginations involuntarily drew of the busy scene which had been enacted here. The timber appeared to have been much more extensive formerly than now. There were but few trees, a kind of long-leaved willow, standing ; and 25 [ 174 ] numerous trunks of large trees were scattered about on the ground. In many similar places I had occasion to remark an apparent progressive de- cay in the timber. Ten miles farther we reached the mouth of Lodge Pole creek, a clear and handsome stream, running through a broad valley. In its course through the bottom it has a uniform breadth of twenty-two feet, and six inches in depth. A few willows on the banks strike pleas- antly on the eye, by their greenness, in the midst of the hot and barren sands. The amorpha was frequent among the ravines, but the sunflower ( hell - anthus) was the characteristic ; and flowers of deep warm colors seem most to love the sandy soil. The impression of the country travelled over to- day was one of dry and barren sands. We turned in towards the river at noon, and gave our horses two hours for food and rest. I had no other thermometer than the one attached to the barometer, which stood at 89°, the height of the column in the barometer being 26.235 at meridian. The sky was clear, with a high wind from the south. At 2, we continued our journey ; the wind had moderated, and it became almost unendurably hot, and our animals suffered severely. In the course of the afternoon, the wind rose suddenly, and blew bard from the southwest, with thunder and light- ning, and squalls of rain ; these were blown against us with violence by the wind ; and, halting, we turned our backs to the storm until it blew over. Antelope were tolerably frequent, with a large gray hare ; but the former were shy, and the latter hardly worth the delay of stopping to shoot them ; so, as the evening drew near, we again had recourse to an old bull, and encamped at sunset on an island in the Platte. We ate our meat with a good relish this evening, for we were all in fine health, and had ridden nearly all of a long summer’s day, with a burning sun reflected from the sands. My companions slept rolled up in their blankets, and the Indians lay in the grass near the fire ; but my sleeping place generally had an air of more pretension. Our rifles were tied to- gether near the muzzle, the butts resting on the ground, and a knife laid on the rope, to cut away in case of an alarm. Over this, which made a kind of frame, was thrown a large India rubber cloth, which we used to cover our packs. This made a tent sufficiently large to receive about half of my bed, and was a place of shelter for my instruments ; and as I was careful always to put this part against the wifld, I could lie here with a sensation of satisfied enjoyment, and hear the wind blow, and the rain patter close to my head, and know that I should be at least half dry. Cer- tainly, I never slept more soundly. The barometer at sunset was 26.010, thermometer 81°, and cloudy; but a gale from the west sprang up with the setting sun, and in a few minutes swept away every cloud from the sky. The evening was very fine, and I remained up to take some astro- nomical observations, which made our position in latitude 40° 51' 17", and longitude 103° 07' 00". July 7. — At our camp this morning, at 6 o’clock, the barometer was at 26.183, thermometer 69°, and clear, with a light wind from the southwest. The past night had been squally, with high winds, and occasionally a few drops of rain. Our cooking did not occupy much time, and we left camp early. Nothing of interest occurred during the morning. The same dreary barrenness, except that a .hard marly clay had replaced the sandy soil. Buffalo absolutely covered the plain on both sides the river, and whenever we ascended the hills, scattered herds gave life to the view 26 L 174 ] in every direction. A small drove of wild horses made their appearance on the low river bottoms, a mile or two to the left, and 1 sent off one of the In- dians (who seemed very eager to catch one) on my led horse, a spirited and fleet animal. The savage manoeuvred a little to get the wind of the horses, in which he succeeded — approaching within g. hundred yards without be- ing discovered. The chase for a few minutes was animated and interest- ing. My hunter easily overtook and passed the hindmost of the wild drove, which the Indian did not attempt to lasso ; all his efforts being directed to the capture of the leader. But the strength of the horse, weakened by the insufficient nourishment of grass, failed in a race, and all the drove escaped. We halted at noon on the bank of the river, the barometer at that time be- ing 26.192, and the thermometer 103°, with a light air from the south, and clear weather. In the course of the afternoon, dust rising among the hills at a particular place, attracted our attention; and, riding up, we found a band of eighteen or twenty buffalo bulls engaged in a desperate fight. Though butting and goring were bestowed liberally, and without distinction, yet their efforts were evidently directed against one — a huge gaunt old bull, very lean, while his adversaries were all fat and in good prder. He appeared very weak, and had already received some wounds, and, while we were look- ing on, was several times knocked down and badly hurt, and a very few moments would have put an end to him. Of course, we took the side of the weaker party, and attacked the herd ; but they were so blind with rage, that they fought on, utterly regardless of our presence, although on foot and on horseback we were firing in open view within twenty yards of them. But this did not last long. In a very few seconds, we created a commotion among them. One or two, which were knocked over by the balls, jumped up and ran off into the hills; and they began to retreat slowly along a broad ravine to the river, fighting furiously as they went. By the time they had reached the bottom, we had pretty well dispersed them, and the old bull hobbled off, to lie down somewhere. One of his en- emies remained on the ground where we had first fired upon them, and we stopped there for a short time to cut from him some meat for our supper. We bad neglected to secure our horses, thinking it an unnecessary precau- v tion in their fatigued condition ; but our mule took it into his head to start, and away he went, followed at full speed by the pack horse, with all the baggage and instruments on his back. They were recovered and brought back, after a chase of a mile. Fortunately, every thing was well secured, so that nothing, not even the barometer, was in the least injured. The sun was getting low, and some narrow lines of timber four or five miles distant promised us a pleasant camp, where, with plenty of wood for fire, and comfortable shelter, and rich grass for our animals, we should find clear cool springs, instead of the warm water of the Platte. On our arrival, we found the bed of a stream fifty to one hundred feet wide, sunk some thirty feet below the level of tile prairie, with perpendicular banks, bordered by a fringe of green cottonwood, but not a drop of water. There were several small forks to the stream, all in the same condition. With the exception of the Platte bottom, the country seemed to be of a clay form- ation, dry, and perfectly devoid of any moisture, and baked hard by the sun. Turning off towards the river, we .reached the bank imabout a mile, and were delighted to find an old tree, with thick foliage and spreading branches, where we encamped. At sunset, the barometer was at 25.950, 27 [ 174 ] thermometer 81°, with a strong wind from S. 20° E;, and the sky partially covered with heavy masses of cloud, which settled a little towards the horizon by 10 o’clock, leaving it sufficiently clear for astronomical ob- servations, which placed us in latitude 40° 33' 26", and longitude 103° 30' 37". , July S. — The morning was very pleasant. The breeze was fresh from S. 50° E. with few clouds; the barometer at 6 o’clock standing at 25.970, and the thermometer at 70°. Since leaving the forks, our route had passed over a country alternately clay and sand, each presenting the same naked waste. On leaving camp this morning, we struck again a sandy region, in which the vegetation appeared somewhat more vigorous than that which we had observed for the last few days; and on the opposite side of the river were some tolerably large groves of timber. Journeying along, we came suddenly upon a place where the ground was covered with horses’ tracks, which had been made since the rain, and indicated the immediate presence of Indians in our neighborhood. The buffalo, too, which the day before had been so numerous, were nowhere in sight — another sure indication that there were people near. Riding on, we discovered the carcass of a buffalo recently killed — perhaps the day before. We scanned the horizon carefully with the glass, but no living object was to be seen. For the next mile or two, the ground was dotted with buffalo carcasses, which showed that the Indians had made a surround here, and were in considerable force. We went on quickly and cautiously, keeping the river bottom, and carefully avoiding the hills ; but we met with no interruption, and began to grow careless again. We had already lost one of our horses, and here Basil’s mule showed symptoms of giving out, and finally refused to advance, being what the Canadians call restL He there- fore dismounted, and drove her along before him ; but this was a very slow way of travelling. We had inadvertently got about half a mile in advance, but our Cheyennes, who were generally a mile or two in the rear, remained with him. There were some dark-looking objects among the hills, about two miles to the left, here low and undulating, which we had seen for a little time, and supposed to be buffalo coming in to water ; but, happening to look behind, Maxwell saw the Cheyennes whipping up furiously, and another glance at the dark objects showed them at once to be Indians coming up at speed. Had we been well mounted, and disencumbered of instruments, we might have set them at defiance ; but as it was, we were fairly caught. It was too late to rejoin our friends, and we endeavored to gain a clump of timber about half a mile ahead ; but the instruments and the tired state of our horses did not allow us to go faster than a steady canter, and they were gaining on us fast. At first, they did not appear to be more than fifteen or twenty in number, but group after group darted into view at the top of the hills, until all the little eminences seemed in motion, and, in a few minutes from the time they were first discovered, two or three hun- dred, naked to the breech cloth, were sweeping across the prairie. In a few hundred yards we discovered that the timber we were endeavoring to make was on the opposite side of the river; and before we could reach the bank, down came the Indians upon us. I am inclined to think that in a few seconds more the leading man, and perhaps some of his companions, would have rolled in the dust; for we had jerked the covers from our guns, and our fingers were on the 28 [ 174 ] triggers ; men in such cases generally act from instinct, and a charge from three hundred naked savages is a circumstance not well calculated to promote a cool exercise of judgment. Just as he was about to fire, Max- well recognised the leading Indian, and shouted to him in the Indian language, “ You’re a fool, God damn you, don’t you know me?” The sound of his own language seemed to shock the savage, and, swerving his horse a little, he passed us like an arrow. He wheeled, as I rode out toward him, and gave me his hand, striking his breast and exclaiming “Arapaho!” They proved to be a village of that nation, among whom Maxwell had resided as a trader a year or two previously, and recognised him accordingly. We were soon in the midst of the band, answering as well as we could a multitude of questions ; of which the very first was, of what tribe were our Indian companions who were coming in the rear ? They seemed disappointed to know that they were Cheyennes, for they had fully anticipated a grand dance around a Pawnee scalp that night. The chief showed us his village at a grove on the river six miles ahead, and pointed out a band of buffalo on the other side of the Platte, imme- diately opposite us, which he said they were going to surround. They had seen the band early in the morning from their village, and had been making a large circuit, to avoid giving them the wind, when they discov- ered us. In a few minutes the women came galloping up, astride on their horses, and naked from their knees down, and the hips up. They followed the men, to assist in cutting up and carrying off the meat. The wind was blowing directly across the river, and the chief requested us to halt where we were for a while, in order to avoid raising the herd. We therefore unsaddled our horses, and sat down on the bank to view the scene; and our new acquaintances rode a few hundred yards lower down, and began crossing the river. Scores of wild-looking dogs followed, looking like troops of wolves, and having, in fact, but very little of the dog in their composition. Some of them remained with us, and I checked one of the men, whom I found aiming at one, which he was about to kill for a wolf. The day had become very hot. The air was clear, with a very slight breeze; agd now, at 12 o’clock, while the barometer stood at 25.920, the attached thermometer was at 108°. Our Cheyennes had learned that with the Arapaho village were about twenty lodges of their own, including their own families ; they therefore immediately com- menced making their toilette. After bathing in the river, they invested themselves in some handsome calico shirts, which I afterward learned they had stolen from my own men, and spent some time in arranging their hair and painting themselves with some vermilion 1 had given them. While they were engaged in this satisfactory manner, one of their half-wild horses, to which the crowd of prancing animals which had just passed had recalled the freedom of her existence among the wild droves on the prairie, suddenly dashed into the hills at the top of her speed. She was their pack horse, and had on her back all the worldly wealth of our poor Cheyennes, all their accoutrements, and all the little articles which they had picked up among us, with some few presents I had given them. The loss which they seemed to regret most were their spears and shields, and some tobacco which they had received from me. However, they bore it all with the philosophy of an Indian, and laughingly con- tinued their toilette. They appeared, however, a little mortified at the thought of returning to the village in such a sorry plight. Our people 29 [ 1^4 ] will laugh at us,” said one of them, “ returning to the village on foot, in- stead of driving back a drove of Pawnee horses.” He demanded to know if I loved my sorrel hunter very much ; to which I replied, he was the object of my most intense affection. Far from being able to give, I was myself in want of horses ; and any suggestion of parting with the few I had valuable, was met with a peremptory refusal. In the mean time, the slaughter was about to commence on the other side. So soon as they reached it, the Indians separated into two bodies. One party proceeded directly across the prairie, toward the hills, in an extended line, while the other went up the river ; and instantly as they had given the wind to the herd, the chase commenced. The buffalo started for the hills, but were intercepted and driven back toward the river, broken and running in every direction. The clouds of dust soon covered the whole scen^e, preventing us from having any but an occasional view. It had a very singular ap- pearance to us at a distance, especially when looking with the glass. We were too far to hear the report of the guns, or any sound ; and at every instant, through the clouds of dust which the sun made luminous, we could see for a moment two or three buffalo dashing along, and close be- hind them an Indian with his long spear, or other weapon, and instantly again they disappeared. The apparent silence, and the dimly seen figures flitting by with such rapidity, gave it a kind of dreamy effect, and seemed more like a picture than a scene ‘of real life. It had been a large herd when the cerne commenced, probably three or four hundred in number ; but, though I watched them closely, I did not see one emerge from the fatal cloud where # the work of destruction was going on. After remain- ing here about an hour, we resumed our journey in the direction of the village. Gradually, as we rode on, Indian after Indian came dropping along, laden with meat ; and by the time we had neared the lodges, the back- ward road was covered with the returning horsemen. It was a pleasant contrast with the desert road we had been travelling. Several had joined company with us, and one of the chiefs invited us to his lodge. The vil- lage consisted of about one hundred and twenty-five lodges, of which twenty were Cheyennes; the latter pitched a little apart from the Arapa- hoes. They were disposed in a scattering manner on both sides of a broad irregular street, about one hundred and fifty feet wide, and running along the river. As we rode along, I remarked near some of the lodges a kind of tripod frame, formed of three slender poles of birch, scraped very clean, to which were affixed the shield and spear, with some other weap- ons of a chief. All were scrupulously clean, the spear head was burnish- ed bright, and the shield white and stainless. It reminded me of the days of feudal chivalry ; and when, as I rode by, I yielded to the passing impulse, and touched one of the spotless shields with the muzzle of my gun, I almost expected a grim warrior to start from the lodge and resent my challenge. The master of the lodge spread out a robe for me to sit upon, and the squaws set before us a large wooden dish of bnffalo meat. He had lit his pipe in the mean while, and when it had been passed around, we commenced our dinner while he continued to smoke. Grad- ually, five or six other chiefs came in, and took their seats in silence. When we had finished, our host asked a number of questions relative to the object of our journey, of which I made no concealment; telling him simply that I had made a visit to see the country, preparatory to the es- 30 [ 174 ] tablishment of military posts on the way to the mountains. Although this was information of the highest interest to them, and by no means calculated to please them, it excited no expression of surprise, and in no way altered the grave courtesy of their demeanor. The others listened and smoked. I remarked, that in taking the pipe for the first time, each had turned the stem upward, with a rapid glance, as in offering to the Great Spirit, before he put it in his mouth. A storm had been gathering for the past hour, and some pattering drops on the lodge warned us that we had some miles to our camp. Some Indian had given Maxwell a bundle of dried meat, which was very acceptable, as we had nothing; and, springing upon our horses, we rode off at dusk in the face of a cold shower and driving wind. We found our companions under some densely foliaged old trees, about three miles up the river. Under one of them lay the trunk of a large cottonwood, to leeward of which the men had kin- dled a fire, and we sat here and roasted our meat in tolerable shelter. Nearly opposite was the mouth of one of the most considerable affluents of the South fork, la Fourche aux Castors , (Beaver fork,) heading off in the ridge to the southeast. July 9. — This morning we caught the first faint glimpse of the Rocky mountains, about sixty miles distant. Though a tolerably bright day, there was a slight mist, and we were just able to discern the snowy sum- mit of “ Long’s peak,” (“ les deux oreilles” of the Canadians,) showing like a small cloud near the horizon. I found it easily distinguishable, there being a perceptible difference in its appearance from the white clouds that were floating about the sky. I was pleased to find that among the traders and voyageurs the name of “ Long’s peak** had been adopted and become familiar in the country. In the ravines near this place, a light brown sandstone made its first appearance. About 8, we discerned several persons on horseback a mile or two ahead, on the oppo- site side of the river. They turned in towards the river, and we rode down to meet them. We found them to be two white men, and a mu- latto named Jim Beckwith, who had left St. Louis when a boy, and gone to live with the Crow Indians. He had distinguished himself among them by some acts of daring bravery, and had risen to the rank of a chief, but had now, for some years, left them. They were in search of a band of horses that had gone off from a camp some miles above, in charge of Mr. Chabonard. Two of them continued down the river, in search of the horses, and the American turned back with us, and we rode on towards the camp. About eight miles from our sleeping place we reached Bijou’s fork, an affluent of the right bank. Where we crossed it, a short distance from the Platte, it has a sandy bed about four hundred yards broad ; the water in various small streams, a few inches deep. Seven miles further brought us to a camp of some four or five whites, (New Englanders, I be- lieve,) who had accompanied Captain Wyeth to the Columbia river, and were independent trappers. All had their squaws with them, and I was really surprised at the number of little fat buffalo-fed boys that were tum- bling about the camp, all apparently of the same age, about three or four years old. They were encamped on a rich bottom, covered with a pro- fusion of fine grass, and had a large number of fine-looking horses and mules. We rested with them a few minutes, and in about two miles ar- rived at Chabonard’s camp, on an island in the Platte. On the heights above, we met the first Spaniard I had seen in the country. Mr. Chabo- 31 [ 174 ] . nard was in the service of Bent and St. Vrain’s company, and had left their fort some forty or fifty miles above, in the spring, with boats laden with the furs of the last year’s trade.- He had met the same fortune as the voyageurs on the North fork, and, finding it impossible to proceed, had taken up his summer’s residence on this island, which he had named St. Helena. The river hills appeared to be composed entirely of sand, and the Platte had lost the muddy character of its waters, and here was toler- ably clear. From the mouth of the South fork, I had found it Occasion- ally broken up by small islands; and at the time of our journey, which was at a season of the year when the waters were at a favorable stage, it was not navigable for any thing drawing six inches water. The current was very swift — the bed of the stream a coarse gravel. From the place at which we had encountered the Arapahoes, the Piatte had been tolerably well fringed with timber, and the island here had a fine grove of very large cottonwoods, under whose broad shade the tents were pitched. There was a large drove of horses in the opposite prairie bottom; smoke was rising from the scattered fires, and the encampment had quite a patriarchal air. Mr. C. received us hospitably. One of the people was sent to gather mint, with the aid of which he concocted very good julep; and some boiled buffalo tongue, and coffee with the luxury of sugar, were soon set before us. The people in his employ were gene- rally Spaniards, and among them I saw a young Spanish woman from Taos, whom I found to be Beckwith’s wife. July 10. — We parted with our hospitable host after breakfast the next morning, and reached St. Vrain’s fort, about forty-five miles from St. Hele- na, late in the evening. This post is situated on the South fork of the Piatte, immediately under the mountains, about seventeen miles east of Long’s peak. It is on the right bank, on the verge of the upland prairie, about forty feet above the river, of which the immediate valley is about six hun- dred yards wide. The stream is divided into various branches by small islands, among which it runs with a swift current. The bed of the river is sand and gravel, the water very clear, and here may be called a mountain stream. This region appears to be entirely free from the limestones and marls which give to the Lower Platte its yellow and dirty color. The Black hills lie between the stream and the mountains, whose snowy peaks glitter a few miles beyond. At the fort we found Mr. St. Vrain, who re- ceived us with much kindness and hospitality. Maxwell had spent the last two or three years between this post and the village of Taos ; and here he was at home, and among his friends. Spaniards frequently come over in search of employment ; and several came in shortly after our arrival. They usually obtain about six dollars a month, generally paid to them in goods. They are very useful in a camp, in taking care of horses and mules; and I engaged one, who proved to be an active, laborious man, and was of very considerable service to me. The elevation of the Platte here is five thousand four hundred feet above the sea. The neighboring mountains did not appear to enter far the region of perpetual snow, which was generally confined to the northern side of the peaks. On the south- ern, I remarked very little. Here it appeared, so far as I could judge in the distance, to descend but a few hundred feet below the summits. I regretted that time did not permit me to visit them ; but the proper object of my survey lay among the mountains further north ; and I looked forward to an exploration of their snowy recesses with great pleasure. 32 C 174 ] The piney region of the mountains to the south was enveloped in smoke, and I wafc informed had been on fire for several months. Pike’s peak is said to be visible from this place, about one hundred miles to the south- ward ; but the smoky state of the atmosphere prevented my seeing it. The weather continued Qvercast during my stay here, so that I failed in determining the latitude, but obtained good observations for time on the mornings of the 11th and 12th. An assumed latitude of 40° 22' 30" from the evening position of the 12th, enabled me to obtain, for a tolerably cor- rect longitude, 105° 12' 12". July 12. — The kindness of Mr. St. Vrain had enabled me to obtain a couple of horses and three good mules ; and, with a further addition to our party of the Spaniard whom I had hired, and two others, who were going to obtain service at Laramie’s fork, we resumed our journey at 10, on the morning of the 12th. We had been able to procure nothing at the post, in the way of provision. An expected supply from Taos had not yet arrived, and a few pounds of coffee was all that could be spared to us. In addition to this, we had dried meat enough for the first day ; on the next, we expected to find buffalo. From this post, according to the estimate of the country, the fort at the mouth of Laramie’s fork, which was our next point of destination, was nearly due north, distant about one hundred and twenty -five miles. For a short distance, our road lay down the valley of the Platte, which resembled a garden in the splendor of fields of varied flowers, which filled the air with fragrance. The only timber I noticed consisted of poplar, birch, cottonwood, and wiilow. In something less than three miles, we crossed Thompson’s creek, one of the affluents to the left bank of the South fork — a fine stream about sixty-five feet wide, and three feet deep. Journeying on, the low dark line of the Black hills lying between us and the mountains to the left, in about ten miles from the fort, we reached Cache a la Poudre , where we halted to noon. This is a very beautiful moun- tain stream, about one hundred feet wide, flowing with a full swift cur- rent over a rocky bed. We halted under the shade of some cottonwoods, with which the stream is wooded seatteringly. In the upper part of its course, it runs amid the wildest mountain scenery, and, breaking through the Black hills, falls into the Platte about ten miles below this place. In the course of our late journey, I had managed to become the possessor of a very untractable mule — a perfect vixen — and her I had turned over to my Spaniard. It occupied us about half an hour to-day to get the saddle upon her; but, once on her back, Jose could not be dismounted, realizing the accounts given of Mexican horses and horsemanship ; and we contin- ued our route in the afternoon. At evening, we encamped on Crow (?) creek, having travelled about twenty-eight miles. None of the party were well acquainted with the country, and I had great difficulty in ascertaining what were the names of the streams we crossed between the North and South forks of the Platte. This I supposed to be Crow creek. It is what is called a salt stream, and the water stands in pools, having no continuous course. A fine-grained sandstone made its appearance in the banks. The observations of the night placed us in latitude 40° 42', longitude 104° 57' 49". The barom- eter at sunset was 25.231; attached thermometer at 66°. Sky clear, except in the east, with a light wind from the north. July 13. — There being no wood here, we used last night the hois de 33 [ 1^4 ] vache, which is very plentiful. At our camp this morning, the barometer was at 25.2 35 ; the attached thermometer 60°. A few clouds were moving through a deep-blue sky, with a light wind from the west. After a ride of twelve miles, in a northerly direction, over a plain covered with innu- merable quantities of cacti , we reached a small creek in which there was water, and where several herds of buffalo were scattered about among the ravines, which always afford good pasturage. We seem now to be pass- ing along the base of a plateau of the Black hills, in which the formation consists of marls, some of them white and laminated ; the country to the left rising suddenly, and falling off gradually and uniformly to the right. In five or six miles of a northeasterly course, we struck a high ridge, broken into conical peaks, on whose summits large boulders were gathered in heaps. The magnetic direction of the ridge is northwest and south- east, the glittering white of its precipitous sides making it visible for many miles to the south. It is composed of a soft earthy limestone and marls, resembling that, hereafter described, in the neighborhood of the Chimney rock, on the North fork of the Platte, easily worked by the winds and rains, and sometimes moulded into very fantastic shapes. At the foot of the northern slope was the bed of a creek, some forty feet wide, coming, by frequent falls, from the bench above. It was shut in by high perpen- dicular banks, in which were strata of white laminated marl. Its bed was perfectly dry, and the leading feature of the whole region is one of remarkable aridity, and perfect freedom from moisture. In about six miles we crossed the bed of another dry creek ; and, continuing our ride over a high level prairie, a little before sundown we came suddenly upon a beautiful creek, which revived us with a feeling of delighted sur- prise by the pleasant contrast of the deep verdure of its banks with the parched desert we had passed. We had suffered much to-day, both men and horses, for want of water ; having met with it but once in our unin- terrupted march of forty miles, and an exclusive meat diet creates much thirst. “ Las bestias tienen mucha hambre” said the young Spaniard, inquir- ingly ; “ y la genie tambien ,” said I, “ amigo , we’ll camp here.” A stream of good and clear water ran winding about through the little valley, and a herd of buffalo were quietly feeding a little distance below. It was quite a hunter’s paradise ; and while some ran down toward the band to kill one for supper, others collected bois de vache for a fire, there being no wood ; and I amused myself with hunting for plants among the grass. It will be seen, by occasional remarks on the geological formation, that the constituents of the soil in these regions are good, and every day served to strengthen the impression in my mind, confirmed by subsequent ob- servation, that the barren appearance of the country is due almost en- tirely to the extreme dryness of the climate. Along our route, the country had seemed to increase constantly in elevation. According to the indica- tion of the barometer, we were at our encampment 5,440 feet above the sea. The evening was very clear, with a fresh breeze from the south, 50° 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 could determine from our uncertain means of information. Astronomi- cal observations gave for the camp a longitude of 104° 39' 37", and lati- tude 41° 08' 31". 3 34 [ 174 ] July 14, — The wind continued fresh from the same quarter in the morn- ing ; the day being cleat, with the exception of a few clouds in the hori- zon. At our camp at 6 o’clock, the height of the barometer was 24.830, the attached thermometer 61°. Our course this morning was directly north by compass, the variation being 15° or 16° easterly. A ride of four miles brought us to Lodge Pole creek, which we had seen at its mouth on the South fork ; crossing on the way two dry streams, in eighteen miles from our encampment of the past night, we reached a high bleak ridge, composed entirely of the same earthy limestone and marl previously de- scribed. I had never seen any thing which impressed so strongly on my mind a feeling of desolation. The valley, through which ran the waters of Horse creek, lay in view to the north, but too far to have any influence on the immediate view. On the peak of the ridge where I was standing, some six or seven hundred feet above the river, the wind was high and bleak; the barren and arid country seemed as if it had been swept by fires, and in every direction the same dull ash-colored hue, derived from the formation, met the eye. On the summits were some stunted pines, many of them dead, all wearing the same ashen hue of desolation. We left the place with pleasure ; and, after we had descended several hundred -feet, halted in one of the ravines, which, at the distance of every mile or two, cut the flanks of the ridge with little rushing streams, wearing some- thing of a mountain character. We had already begun to exchange the comparatively barren lands for those of a more fertile character. Though the sandstone formed the broken banks of the creek, yet they were cov- ered with a thin grass ; and the fifty or sixty feet which formed the bottom land of the little stream were clothed with very luxuriant grass, among which I remarked willow and cherry, ( cerasus virginiana ;) and a quan- tity of gooseberry and currant bushes occupied the greater part. The creek was three or four feet l>road, and about six inches deep, with a swift current of clear water, and tolerably cool. We had struck it too low down to find the cold water, which we should have enjoyed nearer to its sources. At 2, p. m., the barometer was at 25.050, the attached thermometer 104°. A day of hot sunshine, with clouds, and a moderate breeze from the south. Continuing down the stream, in about four miles we reached its mouth, at one of the main branches of Horse creek. Looking back upon the ridge, whose direction appeared to be a little to the north of east, we saw it seamed at frequent intervals with the dark lines of wooded streams, affluents of the river that flowed so far as we could see along its base. We crossed, in the space of twelve miles from our noon halt, three or four forks of Horse creek, and encamped at sunset on the most easterly. The fork on which we encamped appeared to have followed an easterly direction up to this place ; but here it makes a very sudden bend to the north, passing between two ranges of precipitous hills, called, as I was in- formed, Goshen’s hole. There is somewhere in or near this locality a place so called, but I am not certain thkt it was the place of our encamp- ment. Looking back upon the spot, at the distance of a few miles to the northward, the hills appear to shut in the prairie, through which runs the creek, with a semi-circular sweep, which might very naturally be called a hole in the hills. The geological composition of the ridge is the same which constitutes the rock of the Court-house and Chimney, on the North fork, which appeared to me a continuation of this ridge. The winds and rains work this formation into a variety of singular forms. The pass into 35 C 174 ] Goshen’s hole is about two miles wide, and the hill on the western side imitates, in an extraordinary manner, a massive fortified place, with a re- markable fulness of detail. The rock is marl and earthy limestone, white, without the least appearance of vegetation, and much resembles masonry at a little distance ; and here it sweeps around a level area two or three hundred yards in diameter, and in the 'form of a half moon, terminating on either extremity in enormous bastions. Along the whole line of the parapets appear domes and slender minarets, forty or fifty feet high, giving it every appearance of an old fortified town. On the waters of White river, where this formation exists in great extent, it presents appearances which excite the admiration of the solitary voyageur, and form a frequent theme of their conversation when speaking of the wonders of the country. Sometimes it offers the perfectly illusive appearance of a large city, with numerous streets and magnificent buildings, among which the Canadians never fail to see their cabaret ; and sometimes it takes the form of a soli- tary house, with many large chambers, into which they drive their horses at night, and sleep in these natural defences perfectly secure from any at- tack of prowling savages. Before reaching our camp at Goshen’s hole, in crossing the immense detritus at the foot of the Castle rock, we were in- volved amidst winding passages cut by the waters of the hill; and where, with a breadth scarcely large enough for the passage of a horse, the walls rise thirty and forty feet perpendicularly. This formation supplies the discoloration of the Platte. At sunset, the height of the mercurial column was 25.500, the attached thermometer 80°, and wind moderate from S. 38° E. Clouds covered the sky with the rise of the moon, but I succeeded in obtaining the usual astronomical observations, which placed us in latitude 41° 40' 13", and longitude 104° 24' 36". July 15. — At 6 this morning, the barometer was at 25.515, the thermom- eter 72°; the day was fine, with some clouds looking dark on the south, with a fresh breeze from the same quarter. We found that in our journey across the country we had kept too much to the eastward. This morning, accord- ingly, we travelled by compass some 15 or 20° to the west of north, and struck the Platte some thirteen miles below Fort Laramie. The day was extremely hot, and among the hills the wind seemed to have just issued from an oven. Our horses were much distressed, as we had travelled hard ; and it was with some difficulty that they were all brought to the Platte ; which we reached at 1 o’clock. In riding in towards the river, we found the trail of our carts, which appeared to have passed a day or two since. After having allowed our animals two hours for food and repose, we resumed our journey, and towards the close of the day came in sight of Laramie’s fork. Issuing from the river hills, we came first in view of Fort Platte, a post belonging to Messrs. Sybille, Adams, & Co., situated immediately in the point of land at the junction of Laramie with the Platte. Like the post we had visited on the South fork, it was built of earth, and still unfinished, being enclosed with walls (or rather houses) on three of the sides, and open on the fourth to the river. A few hundred yards brought us in view of the post of the American Fur Company, call- ed Fort John, or Laramie. This was a large post, having more the air of military construction than the fort at the mouth of the river. It is on the left bank, on a rising ground some twenty five feet above the water; and its lofty walls, whitewashed and picketed, with the large bastions at the 36 [ 174 ] \ angles, gave it quite an imposing appearance in the uncertain light of evening. A cluster of lodges, which the language told us belonged to Sioux Indians, was pitched under the walls, and, with the fine back ground of the Black hills and the prominent peak of Laramie mountain, strongly drawn in the clear light of the western sky, where the sun had already set, the whole formed at the moment a strikingly beautiful picture. From the company at St. Louis I had letters for Mr. Boudeau, the gentle- man in charge of the post, by whom I was received with great hospitality and an efficient kindness, which was invaluable to me during my stay in the country. I found our people encamped on the bank, a short distance above the fort.. All were well ; and, in the enjoyment of a bountiful sup- per, which coffee and bread made luxurious to us, we soon forgot the fa- tigues of the last ten days. July 16. — I found that, during my absence, the situation of affairs had undergone some change ; and the usual quiet and somewhat monotonous regularity of the camp had given place to excitement and alarm. The circumstances which occasioned this change will be found narrated in the following extract from the journal of Mr. Preuss, which commences with the day of our separation on the South fork of the Platte. Extract from the journal of Mr. Preuss . “July 6. — We crossed the plateau or highland between the two forks in about six hours. I let my horse go as slow as he liked, to indemnify us both for the previous hardship ; and about noon we reached the North fork. There was no sign that our party had passed ; we rode, therefore, to some pine trees, unsaddled the horses, and stretched our limbs on the grass, awaiting the arrival of our company. After remaining here two hours, my companion became impatient, mounted his horse again, and rode off down the river to see if he could discover our people. I felt so marode yet, that it was a horrible idea to me to bestride that saddle again; so 1 lay still. 1 knew they could not come any other way, and then my companion, one of the best men of the company, would not abandon me. The sun went down; he did not come. Uneasy I did not feel, but very hungry ; I had no provisions, but I could make a fire ; and as I espied two doves in a tree, I tried to kill one; but it needs a better marksman than myself to kill a little bird with a rifle. I made a large fire, however, lighted my pipe — this true friend of mine in every emergency — lay down, and let my thoughts wander to the far east. It was not many minutes after when I heard the tramp of a horse, and my faithful companion was by my side. He had found the party, who had been delayed by making their cache , about seven miles below. To the good supper which he brought with him I did ample justice. He had forgotten salt, and I tried the soldier’s substitute in time of war, and used gunpowder ; but it an- swered badly — bitter enough, but no flavor of kitchen salt. I slept well ; and was only disturbed by two owls, which were attracted by the fire, and took their place in the tree under which we slept. Their music seemed as disagreeable to my companion as to myself ; he fired his rifle twice, and then they let us alone. “July 7. — At about 10 o’clock, the party arrived; and we continued our journey through a country which offered but little to interest the traveller. The soil was much more sandy than in the valley below the confluence » 37 [ 174 ] of the forks, and the face of the country no longer presented the refresh- ing green which had hitherto characterized it. The rich grass was now found only in dispersed spots, on low grounds, and on the bottom land of the streams. A long drought, joined to extreme heat, had so parched up the upper prairies, that they were in many places bald, or covered only with a thin growth of yellow and poor grass. The nature of the soil ren- ders it extremely susceptible to the vicissitudes of the climate. Between the forks, and from their junction to the Black hills, the formation con- sists of marl and a soft earthy limestone, with granitic sandstone. Such a formation cannot give rise to a sterile soil ; and, on our return in Septem- ber, when the country had been watered by frequent rains, the valley of the Platte looked like a garden ; so rich was the verdure of the grasses, and so luxuriant the bloom of abundant flowers. The wild sage begins to make its appearance, and timber is so scarce that we generally made our fires of the bois de vache. With the exception of now and then an isolated tree or two, standing like a light-house on the river bank, there is none whatever to be seen. “ July 8. — Our road to-day was a solitary one. No game made its appear- ance — not even a buffalo or a stray antelope ; and nothing occurred to break the monotony until about 5 o’clock, when the caravan made a sudden halt. There was a galloping in of scouts and horsemen from every side — a hur- rying to and fro in noisy confusion ; rifles were taken from their cover ; bullet pouches examined : in short, there was the cry of 6 Indians,’ heard again. I had become so much accustomed to these alarms, that now they made but little impression on me ; and before I had time to become ex- cited, the new comers were ascertained to be whites. It was a large party of traders and trappers, conducted by Mr. Bridger, a man well known in the history of the country. As the sun was low, and there was a fine grass patch not far ahead, they turned back and encamped for the night with us. Mr. Bridger was invited to supper ; and, after ihe table cloth was removed, we listened with eager interest to an account of their adventures. What they had met, we would be likely to encounter; the chances which had befallen them, would probably happen to us ; and we looked upon their life as a picture of our own. He informed us that the condition of the country had become exceedingly dangerous. The Sioux, who had been badly disposed, had broken out into open histility, and in the preced- ing autumn his party had encountered them in a severe engagement, in which a number of lives had been lost on both sides. United with the Cheyenne and Gros Ventre Indians, they were scouring the upper country in war parties of great force, and were at this time in the neighborhood of the Red Buttes, a famous landmark, which was directly on our path. They had declared war upon every living thing which should be found westward of that point ; though their main object was to attack a large camp of whites and Snake Indians, who had a rendezvous in the Sweet Water valley. Availing himself of his intimate knowledge of the country, he had reached Laramie by an unusual route through the Black hills, and avoided coming into contact with any of the scattered parties. This gen- tleman offered his services to accompany us so far as the head of the Sweet Water ; but the absence of our leader, which was deeply regretted by us all, rendered it impossible for us to enter upon such arrangement. In a camp consisting of men whose lives had been spent in this country, I ex- pected to find every one prepared for occurrences of this nature; but, to 38 [ 1^4 ] my great surprise, I found, on the contrary, that this news had thrown them all into the greatest consternation ; and, on every side, I heard only one exclamation, 4 II n’y aura pas de vie pour nous’ All the night, scat- tered groups were assembled around the fires, smoking their pipes, and listening with the greatest eagerness to exaggerated details of Indian hos- tilities ; and in the morniug I found the camp dispirited, and agitated by a variety of conflicting opinions. A majority of the people were strongly disposed to return ; but Clement Lambert, with some five or six others, professed their determination to follow Mr. Fremont to the uttermost limit of his journey. The others yielded to their remonstrances, and, some- what ashamed of their cowardice, concluded to advance at least so far as Laramie fork, eastward of which they were aware no danger was to be apprehended. Notwithstanding the confusion and excitement, we were very early on the road, as the days were extremely hot, and we were anxious to profit by the freshness of the morning. The soft marly form- ation, over which we were now journeying, frequently offers to the trav- eller views of remarkable and picturesque beauty. To several of these localities, where the winds and the rain have worked the bluffs into curious shapes, the voyageurs have given names according to some fan- cied resemblance. One of these, called the Court-house , we passed about six miles from our encampment of last night, and toward noon came in sight of the celebrated Chimney rock . It looks, at this distance of about thirty miles, like what it is called — the long chimney of a steam factory es- tablishment, or a shot tower in Baltimore. Nothing occurred to interrupt the quiet of the day, and we encamped on the river, after a march of twen- ty-four miles. Buffalo had become very scarce, and but one cow had been killed, of which the meat had been cut into thin slices, and hung around the carts to dry. u July 10. — We continued along the same fine plainly beaten road, which the smooth surface of the country afforded us, for a distance of six hundred and thirty miles, from the frontiers of Missouri to the Laramie fork. In the course of the day we met some whites, who were following along in the train of Mr. Bridger ; and, after a day’s journey of twenty-four miles, encamped about sunset at the Chimney rock, of which the an- nexed drawing will render any description unnecessary. It consists of marl and earthy limestone, and the weather is rapidly diminishing its height, which is now not more than two hundred feet above the river. Travellers who visited it some years since placed its height at upwards of five hundred feet. “ July 11. — The valley of the North fork is of a variable breadth, from one to four, and sometimes six miles. Fifteen miles from the Chimney rock we reached one of those places where the river strikes the bluffs, and forces the road to make a considerable circuit over the uplands. This presented an escarpment on the river of about nine hundred yards in length, and is familiarly known as Scott’s bluffs. We had made a journey of thirty miles before we again struck the river, at a place where some scanty grass afforded an insufficient pasturage to our animals. About twenty miles from the Chimney rock we had found a very beau- tiful spring of excellent and cold water ; but it was in such a deep ravine, and so small, that the animals could not profit by it, and we therefore halted only a few minutes, and found a resting place ten miles further on. The plain between Scott’s bluffs and Chimney rock was almost so -r t 39 C 174 ] entirely covered with drift wood, consisting principally of cedar, which, we were informed, had been supplied from the Black hills, in a flood five or six years since. “ July 12. — Nine miles from our encampment of yesterday we crossed Horse creek, a shallow stream of clear water, about seventy yards wide, falling into the Platte on the right bank. It was lightly timbered, and great quantities of drift wood were piled up on the banks, appearing to be supplied by the creek from above. After a journey of twenty-six miles, we encamped on a rich bottom, which afforded fine grass to our animals. Buffalo have entirely disappeared, and we live now upon the dried meat, which is exceedingly poor food. The marl and earthy limestone, which constituted the formation for several days past, had changed during the day into a compact white or grayish white limestone, sometimes contain- ing hornstone ; and at the place of our encampment this evening, some strata in the river hills cropped out to the height of thirty or forty feet, consisting of a fine-grained granitic sandstone; one of the strata closely resembling gneiss. “ July 13. — To-day, about 4 o’clock, we reached Fort Laramie, where we were cordially received ; we pitched our camp a little above the fort, on the bank of Laramie river, in which the pure and clear water of the mountain stream looked refreshingly cool, and made a pleasant contrast to the muddy, yellow waters of the Platte.” I walked up to visit our friends at the fort, which is a quadrangular structure, built of clay, after the fashion of the Mexicans, who are gene- rally employed in building them. The walls are about fifteen feet high, surmounted with a wooden palisade, and form a portion of ranges of houses, which entirely surround a yard of about one hundred and thirty feet square. Every apartment has its door and window — all, of course, opening on the inside. There are two entrances, opposite each other, and midway the wall, one of which is a large and public entrance ; the other smaller and more private — a sort of postern gate.' Over the great entrance is a square tower with loopholes, and, like the rest of the work, built of earth. At two of the angles, and diagonally opposite each other, are large square bastions, so arranged as to sweep the four faces of the walls. This post belongs to the American Fur Company, and, at the time of our visit, was in charge of Mr. Boudeau. Two of the company’s clerks, Messrs. Galpin and Kellogg, were with him, and he had in the fort about sixteen men. As usual, these had found wives among the Indian squaws; and, with the usual accompaniment of children, the place had quite a populous appearance. It is hardly necessary to say, that the object of the establish- ment is trade with the neighboring tribes, who, in the course of the year, generally make two or three visits to the fort. In addition to this, traders, with a small outfit, are constantly kept amongst them. The articles of trade consist, on the one side, almost entirely of buffalo robes; and, on the other, of blankets, calicoes, guns, powder, ^and lead, with such cheap or- naments as glass beads, looking-glasses, rings, vermilion for painting, to- bacco, and principally, and in spite of the prohibition, of spirits, brought into the country in the form of alcohol, and diluted with water before sold. While mentioning this fact, it is but justice to the American Fur Company to state, that, throughout the country, I have always found them strenuously opposed to the introduction of spirituous liquors. But, 40 C 174 ] in the present state of things, when the country is supplied with alcohol, when a keg of it will purchase from an Indian every thing he possesses — his furs, his lodge, his horses, and even his wife and children — and when any vagabond who has money enough to purchase a mule can go into a village and trade against them successfully, without withdrawing entirely from the trade, it is impossible for them to discontinue its use. In their opposition to this practice, the company is sustained, not only by their obligation to the laws of the country and the welfare of the Indians, but clearly, also, on grounds of policy ; for, with heavy and expensive outfits, they contend at manifestly great disadvantage against the numerous inde- pendent and unlicensed traders, who enter the country from various ave- nues, from the United States and from Mexico, having no other stock in trade than some kegs of liquor, which they sell at the modest price of thirty-six dollars per gallon. The difference between the regular trader and the coureur des bois , (as the French call the itinerant or peddling tra- ders,) with respect to the sale of spirits, is here, as it always has been, fix- ed and permanent, and growing out of the nature of their trade. The regular trader looks ahead, and has an interest in the preservation of the Indians, and in the regular pursuit of their business, and the preservation of their arms, horses, and every thing necessary to their future and perma- nent success in hunting : the coureur des bois has no permanent interest, and gets what he can, and for what he can, from every Indian he meets, even at the risk of disabling him from doing any thing more at hunting. The fort had a very cool and clean appearance. The great entrance, in which I found the gentlemen assembled, and which was floored, and about fifteen feet long, made a pleasant, shaded seat, through which the breeze swept constantly ; for this country is famous for high winds. In the course of conversation, I learned the following particulars, which will ex- plain the condition of the country: For several years the Cheyennes and Sioux had gradually become more and more hostile to the whites, and in the latter part of August, 1S41, had had a rather severe engagement with a party of sixty men, under the command of Mr. Frapp, of St. Louis. The Indians lost eight or ten warriors, and the whites had their leader and four men killed. This fight took place on the waters of Snake river; and it was this party, on their return under Mr. Bridger, which had spread so much alarm among my people. In the course of the spring, two other small parties had been cut off by the Sioux — one on their return from the Crow nation, and the other among the Black hills. The emigrants to Oregon and Mr. Bridger’s party met here, a few days before our arrival. Division and misunderstandings had grown up among them ; they were already somewhat disheartened by the fatigue of their long and weari- some journey, and the feet of their cattle had become so much worn as to be scarcely able to travel. In this situation, they were not likely to find encouragement in the hostile attitude of the Indians, and the new and unexpected difficulties which sprang up before them. They were told that the country was entirely swept of grass, and that few or no buffa- lo were to be found on their line of route ; and, with their weakened ani- mals, it would be impossible for them to transport their heavy wagons over the mountain. Under these circumstances, they disposed of their wagons and cattle at the forts; selling them at the prices they had paid in the States, and taking in exchange coffee and sugar at one dollar a pound, and miserable worn-out horses, which died before they reached 41 C 174 3 the mountains. Mr. Boudeau informed me that he had purchased thirty, and the lower fort, eighty head of fine cattle, some of them of the Durham breed. Mr. Fitzpatrick, whose name and high reputation are familiar to all who interest themselves in the history of this country, had reached Laramie in company with Mr. Bridger ; and the emigrants were fortunate enough to obtain his services to guide them as far as the British post of Fort Hall, about two hundred and fifty miles beyond the South Pass of the mountains. They had started for this post on the 4th of July, and, immediaiely after their departure, a war party of three hundred and fifty braves sat out upon their trail. As their principal chief or partisan had lost some relations in the recent fight, and had sworn to kill the first whites on his path, it was supposed that their intention was to attack the party, should a favorable opportunity offer ; or, if they were foiled in their prin- cipal object by the vigilance of Mr. Fitzpatrick, content themselves with stealing horses and cutting off stragglers. These had been gone but a few days previous to our arrival. The effect of the engagement with Mr. Frapp had been greatly to irri- tate the hostile spirit of the savages; and immediately subsequent to that event, the Gros Ventre Indians had united with the Oglallahs and Chey- ennes, and taken the field in great force — so far as I could ascertain, to the amount of eight hundred lodges. Their object was to make an attack on a camp of Snake and Crow Indians, and a body of about one hundred whites, who had made a rendezvous somewhere in the Green river valley, or on the Sweet Water. After spending some time in buffalo hunting in the neighborhood of the Medicine Bow mountain, they were to cross over to the Green river waters, and return to Laramie by way of the South Pass and the Sweet Water valley. According to the calculation of the Indians, Mr. Boudeau informed me they were somewhere near the head of the Sweet Water. I subsequently learned that the party led by Mr. Fitzpat- rick were overtaken by their pursuers near Rock Independence, in the valley of the Sweet Water; but his skill and resolution saved them from surprise, and, small as his force was, they did not venture to attack him openly. Here they lost one of their party by an accident, and, continuing up the valley, they came suddenly upon the large village. From these they met with a doubtful reception. Long residence and familiar acquaint- ance had given to Mr. Fitzpatrick great personal influence among them, and a portion of them were disposed to let him pass quietly ; but by far the greater number were inclined to hostile measures ; and the chiefs spent the whole of one night, during which they kept the little party in the midst of them, in council, debating the question of attacking them the r^xt day ; but the influence of “ the Broken Hand,” as they called Mr. Fitzpatrick, (one of his hands having been shattered by the bursting of a gun,) at length prevailed, and obtained for them an unmolested passa/ge ; but they sternly assured him that tnis path was no longer open ? and that any party of whites which should hereafter be found upo^i it would meet with certain, destruction. From all that I have been* able to learn, I have no doubt that the emigrants owe their lives to ]bir. Fitzpatrick. Thus it would appear that the. country was swarming with scattered war parties ; and when I he^ r( j ) during the day, the various contradictory and exaggerated rumors which were incessantly repeated to them, I was not surprised that sq much alarm prevailed among my men. Carson, one of the best and. most experienced mountaineers, fully supported the 42 [ 174 ] opinion given by Bridger of the dangerous state of the country, aud openly expressed his conviction that we could not escape without some sharp encounters with the Indians. In addition to this, he made his will ; and among the circumstances which were constantly occurring to increase ' their alarm, this was the most unfortunate ; and I found that a number of my party had become so much intimidated, that they had requested to be discharged at this place. I dined to-day at Fort Platte, which has been mentioned as situated at the junction of Laramie river with the Ne- braska. Here I heard a confirmation of the statements given above. The party of warriors, which had started a few days since on the trail of the emigrants, was expected back in fourteen days, to join the village with which their families and the old men had remained. The arrival of the latter was hourly expected ; and some Indians have just come in who had left them on the Laramie fork, about twenty miles above. Mr. Bissonette, one of the traders belonging to Fort Platte, urged the propriety of taking with me an interpreter and two or three old men of the village ; in which case, he thought there would be little or no hazard in encounter- ing any of the war parties. The principal danger was in being attacked before they should know who we were. They had a confused idea of the numbers and power of our people, and dreaded to bring upon themselves the military force of the United States. This gentleman, who spoke the language fluently, offered his services to accompany me so far as the Red Buttes. He was desirous to join the large party on its return, for purposes of trade, and it would suit his views, as well as my own, to go with us to the Buttes; beyond which point it would be impossible to prevail on a Sioux to venture, on account of their fear of the Crows. From Fort Laramie to the Red Buttes, by the ordi- nary road, is one hundred and thirty-five miles ; and, though only on the threshold of danger, it seemed better to secure the services of an inter- preter for the partial distance, than to have none at all. So far as frequent interruption from the Indians would allow, we occu- pied ourselves in making some astronomical calculations, and bringing up the general map to this stage of our journey ; but the tent was generally occupied by a succession of our ceremonious visiters. Some came for presents, and others for information of our object in coming to the country ; now and then, one would dart up to the tent on horseback, jerk off his trappings, and stand silently at the door, holding his horse by the halter, signifying his desire to trade. Occasionally a savage would stalk in with an invitation to a feast of honor, a dog feast, and deliberately sit down and wait quietly until I was ready to accompany him. I went to one ; the women and children were sitting outside the lodge, and we took our seats on buffalo robes spread around. The dog was in a large pot over the fire, in the middle of the lodge, and immediately on our arrival was dished up in large wooden bowls, one of which was handed to each. The flesh appeared very glutinous, with something of the flavor and ap- pearance of mutton. Feeling something move behind me, I looked round, and found that I had taken my seat among a litter of fat young puppies. Had I been nice in such matters, the prejudices of civilization might have interfered with my tranquillity ; but, fortunately, I am not of delicate nerves, and continued quietly to empty my platter. The weather was : cloudy at evening, with a moderate south wind, aud the thermometer at 6 o’clock 85°. I was disappointed in my hope of ob- 43 [ 174 ] twining an observation of an oecultation, which took place about midnight. The moon brought with her heavy banks of clouds, through which she scarcely made her appearance during the night. The morning of the 18th was cloudy and calm, the thermometer at 6 o’clock at 64°. About 9, with a moderate wind from the west, a storm of rain came on, accompanied by sharp thunder and lightning, which lasted about an hour. During the day the expected village arrived, consisting principally of old men, women, and children. They had a considerable number of horses, and large troops of dogs. Their lodges were pitched near the fort, and our camp was constantly crowded with Indians of all sizes, from morning until night ; at which time some of the soldiers gen- erally came to drive them all off to the village. My tent was the only place which they respected. Here only came the chiefs and men of dis- tinction, and generally one of them remained to drive away the women and children. The numerous strange instruments, applied to still stranger uses, excited awe and admiration among them, and those which I used in talking with the sun and stars they looked upon with especial rever- ence, as mysterious things of “ great medicine.” Of the three barometers which I had brought with me thus far successfully, I found that two were out of order, and spent the greater part of the 1 9th in repairing them — an operation of no small difficulty in the midst of the incessant interrup- tions to which I was subjected. We had the misfortune to break here a large thermometer, graduated to show fifths of a degree, which I used to ascertain the temperature of boiling water, and with which I had promised myself some interesting experiments in the mountains. We had but one remaining, on which the graduation extended sufficiently high ; and this was too small for exact observations. During our stay here, the men had been engaged in making numerous repairs, arranging pack saddles, and otherwise preparing for the chances of a rough road and mountain travel. All things of this nature being ready, I gathered them around me in the evening, and told them that “ I had determined to proceed the next day. They were all well armed. I had engaged the services of Mr. Bissonette as interpreter, and had taken, in the circumstances, every possible means to insure our safety. In the rumors we had heard, I believed there was much exaggeration, and then they were men accustomed to this kind of life and to the country ; and that these were the dangers of every day occurrence, and to be expected in the ordinary course of their service. They had heard of the unsettled condition of the country before leaving St. Louis, and therefore could not make it a reason for breaking their en- gagements. Still, I was unwilling to take with me, on a service of some certain danger, men on whom I could not rely ; and as I had understood that there were among them some who were disposed to cowardice, and anxious to return, they had but to come forward at once, and state their desire, and they would be discharged with the amount due to them for the time they had served.” To their honor be it said, there was but one among them who had the face to come forward and avail himself of the permission. I asked him some few questions, in order to expose him to the ridicule of the men, and let him go. The day after our departure, he engaged himself to one of the forts, and set off with a party for the Upper Missouri. I did not think that the situation of the country justified me in taking our young companions, Messrs. Brant and Benton, along with us. In case of misfortune, it would have been thought, at the least, an act of 44 [ 1^4 ] great imprudence ; and therefore, though reluctantly, I determined to leave them. Randolph had been the life of the camp, and the “ petit garpon” was much regretted by the men, to whom his buoyant spirits had afforded great amusement. They all, however, agreed in the propriety of leaving him at the fort, because, as they said, he might cost the lives of some of the men in a fight with the Indians. July 21. — A portion of our baggage, with our field notes and observa- tions, and several instrumants, were left at the fort. One of the gentlemen, Mr. Galpin, took charge of a barometer, which he engaged to observe during my absence; and I intrusted to Randolph, by way of occupation, the regular winding up of two of my chronometers, which were among the instruments left. Our observations showed that the chronometer which I retained for the continuation of our voyage had preserved its rate in a most satisfactory manner. As deduced from it, the longitude of Fort Laramie is 7h . 01' 21", and from lunar distance Ih . 01' 29"; giving for the adopted longitude 104° 47' 43". Comparing the barometrical observations made during our stay here, with those of Dr. G. Engelman at St. Louis, we find for the elevation of the fort above the Gulf of Mexico 4,470 feet. The winter climate here is remarkably mild for the latitude ; but rainy weather is frequent, and the place is celebrated for winds, of which the prevailing one is west. An east wind in summer, and a south wind in winter, are said to be always accompanied with rain. We were ready to depart; the tents were struck, the mules geared up, and our horses saddled, and we walked up to the fort to take the stirrup cup with our friends in an excellent home-brewed preparation. While thus pleasantly engaged, seated in one of the little cool chambers, at the door of which a man had been stationed to prevent all intrusion from the Indians, a number of chiefs, several of them powerful fine-looking men, forced their way into the room in spite of all opposition. Handing me the following letter, they took their seats in silence : “ Fort Platte, Juffiel 1, 1842. “ Mr. Fremont : Les ches s’etant assembles presentement me disent de vous avertir de ne point vous mettre en route, avant que le parti de jeunes gens, qui est en dehors, soient de letour. De plus, ils me disent qu’ils sont tre certains qu’ils feront feu a la premiere rencontre. Ils doivent etre de retour dans sept a D/uit jours. Excusez si je vous fais cos observations, mais il me sern^\ e qu’il est mon devoir de vous avertir du danger. Meme de phi^ i es chefs sont les porteurs de ce billet, qui vous defendent de partir avant le retour des guerriers. “ Je suis votre obeissant serviteur, “JOSEPH BISSONETTE, “ Par L. B. CHARTRAIN. “ Les noms de quelques chefs . — Le Chapeau de Loutre, le Casseur de Fleches, la Nuit Koir, la Queue de Boeuf.” [Translation.] “ Fort Platte, July 1, 1842. “Mr. Fremont: The chiefs, having assembled in council, have just told me to warn you not to set out before the party of young men which 45 [ 174 ] is now out shall have returned. Furthermore, they tell me that they are very sure they will fire upon you as soon as they meet you. They are expected back in seven or eight days. Excuse me for making these ob- servations, but it seems my duty to warn you of danger. Moreover, the chiefs who prohibit your setting out before the return of the warriors are the bearers of this note. “ I am your obedient servant, “ JOSEPH BISSONETTE, “ By L. B. CHARTRAIN. “ Names of some of the chiefs . — The Otter Hat, the Breaker of Arrows, the Black Night, the Bull’s Tail.” After reading this, I mentioned its purport to my companions ; and, see- ing that all were fully possessed of its contents, one of the Indians rose up, and, having first shaken hands with me, spoke as follows : “ You have come among us at a bad time. Some of our people have been killed, and our young men, who are gone to the mountains, are eager to avenge the blood of their relations, which has been shed by the whites. Our young men are bad, and, if they meet you, they will believe that you are carrying goods and ammunition to their enemies, and will fire upon you. You have told us that this will make war. We know that our great father has many soldiers and big guns, and we are anxious to have our lives. We love the whites, and are desirous of peace. Think- ing of all these things, we have determined to keep you here until our warriors return. We are glad to see you among us. Our father is rich, and we expected that you would have brought presents to us- — horses, and guns, and blankets. But we are glad to see you. We look upon your coming as the light which goes before the sun ; for you will tell our great father that you have seen us, and that we are naked and poor, and have nothing to eat; and he will send us all these things.” He was followed by the others, to the same effect. The observations of the savage appeared reasonable ; but I was aware that they had in view only the present object of detaining me, and were unwilling I should go further into the country. In reply, I asked them, through the interpretation of Mr. Boudeau, to select two or three of their number to accompany us until we should meet their people — they should spread their robes in my tent and eat at my table, and on our return I would give them presents in reward of their services. They declined, saying that there were no young men left in the village, antt that they were too old to travel so many days on horseback, and preferred now to smoke their pipes in the lodge, and let the warriors go on the war path. Besides, they had no power over the young men, and were afraid to inter- fere with them. In my turn I addressed them : “ You say that you love the whites; why have you killed so many already this spring? You say that you love the whites, and are full of many expressions of friendship to us ; but you are not willing to undergo the fatigue of a few days’ ride to save our lives. We do not believe what you have said, and will not lis- ten to you. Whatever a chief among us tells his soldiers to do, is done. We are the soldiers of the great chief, your father. He has told us to come here and see this country, and ail the Indians, his children. Why 46 [ 174 ] should we not go ? Before we came, we heard that you had killed his people, and ceased to be his children ; but we came among you peaceably, holding out our hands. Now we find that the stories we heard are not lies, and that you are no longer his friends and children. We have thrown away our bodies, and will not turn back. When you told us that your young men would kill us, you did not know that our hearts were strong, and you did not see the rifles which my young men carry in their hands. We are few, and you are many, and may kill us all ; but there will be mucli crying in your villages, for many of y.our young men will stay be- hind, and forget to return with your warriors from the mountains. Do you think that our great chief will let his soldiers die, and forget to cover their graves ? Before the snows melt again, his warriors will sweep away your villages as the fire does the prairie in the autumn. See ! I have pulled down my white houses , and my people are ready : when the sun is ten paces higher, we shall be on the march. If you have any thing to tell us, you will say it soon.” I broke up the conference, as I could do noth- ing with these people ; and, being resolved to proceed, nothing was to be gained by delay. Accompanied by our hospitable friends, we returned to the camp. We had mounted our horses, and our parting salutations had been exchanged, when one of the chiefs (the Bull’s Tail) arrived to tell me that they had determined to send a young man with us; and if I would point out the place of our evening camp, he should join us there. “ The young man is poor,” said he ; “ he has no horse, and expects you to give him one.” I described to him the place where I intended to encamp, and, shaking hands, in a few minutes we were among the hills, and this last habitation of whites shut out from our view. The road led over an interesting plateau between the North fork of the Platte on the right, and Laramie river on the left. At the distance of ten miles from the foit, we entered the sandy bed of a creek, a kind of defile, shaded by precipitous rocks, down which we wound our way for several hundred yards, to a place where, on the left bank, a very large spring gushes with considerable noise and force out of the limestone rock. It is called “ the Warm Spring,” and furnishes to the hitherto dry bed of the creek a considerable rivulet. On the opposite side, a little below the spring, is a lofty limestone escarpment, partially shaded by a grove of large trees, whose green foliage, in contrast with the whiteness of the rock, renders this a picturesque locality. The rock is fossiliferous, and, so far as I was able to determine the character of the fossils, belongs to the carbonif- erous limestone of the Missouri river, and is probably the western limit of that formation. Beyond this point I met with no fossils of any descrip- tion. I was desirous to visit the Platte near the point where it leaves the Black hills, and therefore followed this stream, for two or three miles, to the mouth ; where I encamped on a spot which afforded good grass and j mile ( equisetum ) for our animals. Our tents having been found too thin to protect ourselves and the instruments from the rains, which in this elevated country are attended with cold and unpleasant weather, I had procured from the Indians at Laramie a tolerably large lodge, about eigh- teen feet in diameter, and twenty feet in height. Such a lodge, when properly pitched, is, from its conical form, almost perfectly secure against the violent winds which are frequent in this region, and, with a fire in the centre, is a dry and warm shelter in bad weather. By raising the lower 47 [ 174 ] part, so as to permit the breeze to pass freely, it is converted into a pleas- ant summer residence, with the extraordinary advantage of being entirely free from mosquitoes, one of which I have never seen in an Indian lodge. While we were engaged very unskilfully in erecting this, the interpreter, Mr. Bissonette, arrived, accompanied by the Indian and his wife. She laughed at our awkwardness, and offered her assistance, of which we were frequently afterward obliged to avail ourselves, before the men acquired sufficient expertness to pitch it without difficulty. From this place we had a fine view of the gorge where the Platte issues from the Black hills, changing its character abruptly from a mountain stream into a river of the plains. Immediately around us the valley of the stream was tolerably open ; and at the distance of a few miles, wher.e the river had cut its way through the hills, was the narrow cleft, on one side of which a lofty preci- pice of bright red rock rose vertically above the low hills which lay be- tween us. July 22 . — In the morning, while breakfast was being prepared, I visited this place with my favorite man, Basil Lajeunesse. Entering so far as there was footing for the mules, we dismounted, and, tying our animals, continued our way on foot. Like the whole country, the scenery of the river had undergone an entire change, and was in this place the most beautiful I have ever seen. The breadth of the stream, generally near that of its valley, was from two to three hundred feet, with a swift cur- rent, occasionally broken by rapids, and the water perfectly clear. On either side rose the red precipices, vertical, and sometimes overhanging, two and four hundred feet in height, crowned with green summits, on which were scattered a few pines. At the foot of the rocks was the usual detritus, formed of masses fallen from above. Among the pines that grew here, and on the occasional banks, were the cherry, ( cerasus virginiana,) currants, and grains de boeuf ( shepherdia argentea.) Viewed in the sun- shine of a pleasant morning, the scenery was of a most striking and ro- mantic beauty, which arose from the picturesque disposition of the objects, and the vivid contrast of colors. I thought with much pleasure of our approaching descent in the canoe through such interesting places ; and, in the expectation of being able at that time to give to them a full examina- tion, did not now dwell so much as might have been desirable upon the geological formations along the line of the river, where they are developed with great clearness. The upper portion of the red strata consists of very compact clay, in which are occasionally seen imbedded large pebbles. Below was a stratum of compact red sandstone, changing a little above the river into a very hard siliceous limestone. There is a small but hand- some open prairie immediately below this place, on the left bank of the river, which would be a good locality for a military post. There are some open groves of cottonwood on the Platte. The small stream which comes in at this place is well timbered with pine, and good building rock is abundant. If it is in contemplation to keep open the communications with Oregon territory, a show of military force in this country is absolutely necessary; and a combination of advantages renders the neighborhood of Fort Lara- mie the most suitable place, on the line of the Platte, for the establishment of a military post. It is connected with the mouth of the Platte and the Upper Missouri by excellent roads, which are in frequent use, and would not in any way interfere with the range of the buffalo, on which the 48 [ 174 ] neighboring Indians mainly depend for support. It would render any posts on the Lower Platte unnecessary; the ordinary communication be- tween it and the Missouri being sufficient to control the intermediate In- dians. It would operate effectually to prevent any such coalitions as are now formed among the Gros Ventres, Sioux, Cheyennes, and other Indians, and would keep the Oregon road through the valley of the Sweet Water and the South Pass of the mountains constantly open. A glance at the map which accompanies this report will show that it lies at the foot of a broken and mountainous region, along which, by the establishment of small posts in the neighborhood of St. Vrain’s fort, on the South fork of the Platte, and Bent’s fort, on the Arkansas, a line of communication would be formed, by good wagon roads, with our southern military posts, which would entirely command thfe mountain passes, hold some of the most troublesome tribes in check, and protect and facilitate our intercourse with the neighboring Spanish settlements. The valleys of the rivers on which they would be situated are fertile ; the country, which supports immense herds of buffalo, is admirably adapted to grazing ; and herds of cattle might be maintained by the posts, or obtained from the Spanish country, which aiready supplies a portion of their provisions to the trading posts mentioned above. Just as we were leaving the camp this morning, our Indian came up, and stated his intention of not proceeding any further until he had seen the horse which I intended to give him. I felt strongly tempted to drive him out of the camp ; but his presence appeared to give confidence to my men, and the interpreter thought it absolutely necessary. I was there- fore obliged to do what he requested, and pointed out the animal, with which he seemed satisfied, and we continued our journey. I had ima- gined that Mr. Bissonette’s long residence had made him acquainted with the country, and, according to his advice, proceeded directly forward, without attempting to regain the usual road. He afterward informed me that he had rarely ever lost sight of the fort ; but the effect of the mistake was to involve us for a day or two among the hills, where, although we lost no time, we encountered an exceedingly rough road. To the south, along our line of march to-day, the main chain of the Black or Laramie hills rises precipitously. Time did not permit me to visit them; but, from comparative information, the ridge is composed of the coarse sandstone or conglomerate hereafter described. It appears to enter the region of clouds, which are arrested in their course, and lie in masses along the summits. An inverted cone of black cloud (cumulus) rested during all the forenoon on the lofty peak of Laramie mountain, which I estimated to be about two thousand feet above the fort, or six thousand five hundred above the sea. We halted to noon on the Fourche A mire, so called from being timbered principally with the Hard amlre, (a species of poplar,) with which the valley of the little stream is tolerably well wooded, and which, with large expansive summits, grows to the height of sixty or seventy feet. The bed of the creek is sand and gravel, the water dispersed over the broad bed in several shallow streams. We found here, on the right bank, in the shade of the trees, a fine spring of very cold water. It will be re- marked that I do not mention, in this portion of the journey, the tempera- ture of the air, sand, springs, &c, — an omission which will be explained in 49 [ 174 ] the course of the narrative. In my search for plants, I was well rewarded at this place. With the change in the geological formation on leaving Fort Laramie, the whole face of the country has entirely altered its appearance. East- ward of that meridian, the principal objects which strike the eye of a travel- ler are the absence of timber, and the immense expanse of prairie, covered, with the verdure of rich grasses, and highly adapted for pasturage. Wher- ever they are not disturbed by the vicinity of man, large herds of buffalo give animation to this country. Westward of Laramie river, the region is sandy, and apparently sterile ; and the place pf the grass is usurped by the artemisia and other odoriferous plants, to whose growth the sandy soil and dry air of this elevated region seem highly favorable. One of the prominent characteristics in the face of the country is the ex- traordinary abundance of the artemisias. They grow every where — on the hills, and over the river bottoms, in tough, twisted, wiry clumps ; and, wherever the beaten track was left, they rendered the progress of the carts rough and slow.- As the country increased in elevation on our advance to the west, they increased in size ; and the whole air is strongly impreg- nated and saturated with the odor of camphor and spirits of turpentine which belongs to this plant. This climate has been found very favorable to the restoration of health, particularly in cases of consumption ; and pos- sibly the respiration of air so highly impregnated by aromatic plants may have some influence. Our dried meat had given out, and we began to be in want of food; but one of the hunters killed an antelope this evening, which afforded some relief, although it did not go far among so many hungry men. At 8 o’clock at night, after a march of twenty-seven miles, we reached our proposed en- campment on the Fer-h-Cheval , or Horse-shoe creek. Here we found good grass, with a great quantity of prele, which furnished good food for our tired animals. This creek is well timbered, principally with Hard amtre , and, with the exception of Deer creek, which we had not yet reach- ed, is the largest affluent of the right bank between Laramie and the mouth of the Sweet Water. July 23. — The present year had been one of unparalleled drought, and throughout the country the water had been almost dried up. By availing themselves of the annual rise, the traders had invariably succeeded in carrying their furs to the Missouri ; but this season, as has already been mentioned, on both forks of the Platte they had entirely failed. The greater number of the springs, and many of the streams, which made- halting places for the voyageurs, had been dried up. Every where the soil looked parched and burnt ; the scanty yellow grass crisped under the foot, and even the hardiest plants were destroyed by want of moisture. I think it necessary to mention this fact, because to the rapid evaporation in such an elevated region, nearly five thousand feet above the sea, almost wholly unprotected by timber, should be attributed much of the sterile appearance of the country, in the destruction of vegetation, and the numerous saline efflorescences which covered the ground. Such I afterward found to be the case. I was informed that the roving villages of Indians and travellers had never met with difficulty in finding an abundance of grass for their horses ; and now it was after great search that we were able to find a scanty patch of grass, sufficient to keep them from sinking ; and in the course of a day 4 50 [ 174 ] or two they began to suffer very much. We found none to-day at noon ; and, in the course of our search on the Platte, came to a grove of cotton- wood, where some Indian village had recently encamped. Boughs of the cottonwood yet green covered the ground, which the Indians had cut down to feed their horses upon. It is only in the winter that recourse is had to this means of sustaining them ; and their resort to it at this time was a striking evidence of the state of the country. We followed their example, and turned our horses into a grove of young poplars. This began to pre- sent itself as a very serious evil, for on our animals depended altogether the further prosecution of our journey. Shortly after we had left this place, the scouts came galloping in with the alarm of Indians. We turned ir* immediately toward the river, which here had a steep high bank, where we formed with the carts a very close barricade, resting on the river, within which the animals were strongly hohbled and picketed. The guns were discharged and reloaded, and men thrown forward, under cover of the bank, in the direction by which the Indians were expected. Our interpreter, who, with the Indian, had gone to meet them, came in, in about ten minutes, accompanied by two Sioux. They looked sulky, and we could obtain from them only some confused information. We learned that they belonged to the party which had been on the trail of the emigrants, whom they had overtaken at Rock Independ- ence, on the Sweet Water. Here the party had disagreed, and came nigh fighting among themselves. One portion were desirous of attacking the whites, but the others were opposed to it ; and finally they had broken up into small bands, and dispersed over the country. The greater portion of them had gone over into the territory of the Crows, and intended to return by way of the Wind river valley, in the hope of being able to fail upon some small parties of Crow Indians. The remainder were returning down the Platte, in scattered parties of ten and twenty ; and those whom we had encountered belonged to those who had advocated an attack on the emi- grants. Several of the men suggested shooting them on the spot ; but I promptly discountenanced any such proceeding. They further informed / me that buffalo were very scarce, and little or no grass to be found. There had been no rain, and innumerable quantities of grasshoppers had destroy- ed the grass. This insect had been so numerous since leaving Fort Lara- mie, that the ground seemed alive with them ; and in walking, a little moving cloud preceded our footsteps. This was bad news. ' No grass, no buffalo — food for neither horse nor man. I gave them some plugs of to- bacco, and they went off, apparently well satisfied to be clear of us ; for my men Sid not look upon them very lovingly, and they glanced suspi- ciously at our warlike preparations, and the little ring of rifles which sur- rounded lhem. They were evidently in a bad humor, and shot one of their horses when they had left us a short distance. We continued our march, and, after a journey of about twenty-one miles, encamped on the Platte. During the day, I had occasionally remarked among the hills the psoralea esculenta, the bread root of the Indians. The Sioux use this root very extensively, and I have frequently met with it among them, cut into thin slices and dried. In the course of the even- ing we were visited by six Indians, who told us that a larger party was en- camped a few miles above. Astronomical observations placed us in longi- tude 104° 59' 59", and latitude 42° 39’ 25". We made the next day twenty-two miles, and encamped on the right 51 [ 174 J bank of the Platte, where a handsome meadow afforded tolerably good grass. There were the remains of an old fort here, thrown up in some sudden emergency, and on the opposite side was a picturesque bluff of ferruginous sandstone. There was a handsome grove a little above, and scattered groups of trees bordered the river. Buffalo made their appear- ance this afternoon, and the hunters came in, shortly after we had encamp- ed, with three fine cows. The night was fine, and observations gave for the latitude pf the camp, 42 ° 47 ' 40 ". July 25 . — We made but thirteen miles this day, and encamped about noon in a pleasant grove on the right bank. Low scaffolds were erected, upon which the meat was laid, cut up into thin strips, and small fires kindled below. Our object was to profit by the vicinity of the buffalo, to lay in a stock of provisions for ten or fifteen days. In the course of the afternoon the hunters brought in five or six cows, and all hands were kept busily employed in preparing the meat, to the drying of which the guard attended during the night. Our people had recovered their gayety, and the busy figures around the blazing fires gave a picturesque air to the camp. A very serious accident occurred this morning, in the breaking of one of the barometers. These had been the object of my constant solici- tude, and, as I had intended them principally for mountain service, I had used them as seldom as possible ; taking them always down at night, and on the occurrence of storms, in order to lessen the chances of being broken. I was reduced to one, a standard barometer of Troughton’s construction. This I determined to preserve, if possible. The latitude is 42 ° 51 ' 35 ", and by a mean of the results from chronometer and lunar distances, the adopted longitude of this camp is 105 ° 50 ' 45 ". July 26 . — Early this morning we were again in motion. We had a stock of provisions for fifteen days carefully stored away in the carts, and this I resolved should only be encroached upon when our rifles should fail to procure us present support. I determined to reach the mountains, if it were in any way possible. In the mean time, buffalo were plenty. In six miles from our encampment, (which, by way of distinction, we shall call Dried Meat camp,) we crossed a handsome stream, called La Foarche Bois6e. It is well timbered, and, among the flowers in bloom on its banks, I remarked several asters. Five miles further, we made our noon halt, on the banks of the Platte, in the shade of some cottonwoods. There were here, as generally now along the river, thickets of hippophase , the grains de bceuf of the country. They were of two kinds — one bearing a red berry, (the shepherdia argen - tia of Nuttall ;) the other a yellow berry, of which the Tartars are said to make a kind of rob. By a meridian observation, the latitude of the place was 42 ° 50 ' 08 ". It was my daily practice to take observations of the sun’s meridian altitude; and why they arc not given, will appear in the sequel. Eight miles further we reached the mouth of Deer creek, where we encamped. Here was an abundance of rich grass, and our animals were compensated for past priva- tions. This stream was at this time twenty feet broad, and well timbered with cottonwood of an uncommon size. It is the largest tributary of the Platte, between the mouth of the Sweet Water and the Laramie. Our as- tronomical observations gave for the mouth of the stream a longitude of 106 ° 08 ’ 24 ", and latitude 42 ° 52 ' 24 ". July 27 . — Nothing worthy of mention occurred on this day ; we trav- f 52 [ 174 ] elled later than usual, having spent some time in searching for grass, crossing and recrossing the river before we could find a sufficient quantity for our animals. Toward dusk, we encamped among some artemisia hushes, two and three feet in height, where some scattered patches of | short tough grass afforded a scanty supply. In crossing, we had occasion to observe that the river was frequently too deep to be forded, though we always succeeded in finding a place where the water did not enter the carts. The stream continued very clear, with two or three* hundred feet breadth of water, and the sandy bed and banks were frequently covered with large round pebbles. We had travelled this day twenty-seven miles. The main chain of the Black hills was' here only about seven miles to the south, on the right bank of the river, rising abruptly to the height of I eight and twelve hundred feet. Patches of green grass in the ravines on the steep sides marked the presence of springs, and the summits were clad with pines. July 28 . — In two miles from our encampment, we reached the place where the regular road crosses the Platte. There was two hundred feet breadth of water at this time in the bed, which has a variable width of ' eight to fifteen hundred feet. The channels were generally three feet deep, and there were large angular rocks on the bottom, which made the ford in some places a little difficult. Even at its low stages, this river cannot be crossed at random, and this has always been used as the best ford. The low stage of the waters the present year had made it fordable in almost any part of its course, where access could be had to its bed. For the satisfaction of travellers, I will endeavor to give some descrip- tion of the nature of the road from Laramie to this point. The nature of the soil may be inferred from its geological formation. The limestone at the eastern limit of this section is succeeded by limestone without fossils, a great variety of sandstone, consisting principally of red sandstone and fine conglomerates. The red sandstone is argillaceous, with compact white gypsum or alabaster, very beautiful. The other sandstones are gray, yel- low, and ferruginous, sometimes very coarse. The apparent sterility of the country must therefore be sought for in other causes than the nature of the soil. The face of the country cannot with propriety be called hilly. It is a succession of long ridges, made by the numerous streams which come down from the neighboring mountain range. The ridges have an undu- lating surface, with some such appearance as the ocean presents in an or- dinary breeze. The road which is now generally followed through this region is there- . fore a very good one, without any difficult ascents to overcome. The principal obstructions are near the river, where the transient waters of heavy rains have made deep ravines with steep banks, which renders fre- quent circuits necessary. It will be remembered that wagons pass this road only once or twice a year, which is by no means sufficient to break down the stubborn roots of the innumerable artemisia bushes. A partial absence of these is often the* only indication of the track ; and the rough- ness produced by their roots in many places gives the road the character of one newly opened in a wooded country. This is usually considered the worst part of the road east of the mountains ; and, as it passes through an open prairie region, may be much improved, so as to avoid the greater part | of the inequalities it now presents. % From the mouth of the Kansas to the Green^iver valley, west of the | 53 [ 174 ] Rocky mountains, there is no such thing as a mountain road on the line of communication. We continued our way, and four miles beyond the ford Indians were discovered again ; and I halted while a party were sent forward to ascertain who they were. In a short time they returned, accompanied by a number of Indians of the Oglallah band of Sioux. From them we received some interesting information. They had formed part of the great village, which they informed us had broken up, and was on its way home. The greater part of the village, including the Arapahoes, Cheyennes, and Oglallahs, had crossed the Platte eight or ten miles below the mouth of the Sweet Water, and were now behind the mountains to the south of us, intending to regain the Platte by way of Deer creek. They had taken this unusual route in search of grass and game. They gave us a very discouraging picture of the country. The great drought, and the plague of grasshop- pers, had swept it so that scarce a blade of grass was to be seen, and there was not a buffalo to be found in the whole region. Their people, they further said, had been nearly starved to death, and we would find their road marked by lodges which they had thrown away in order to move more rapidly, and by the carcasses of the horses which they had eaten, ' or which had perished by starvation. Such was the prospect before us. When he had finished the interpretation of these things, Mr. Bissonette immediately rode up to me, and urgently advised that I should entirely abandon the further prosecution of my exploration. “ Le meilleure avis queje pourrais voas donner c’est de virer de suite” “ The best advice I can give you, is to turn back at once.” It was his own intention to re- turn, as we had now reached the point to which he had engaged to attend me. In reply, I called up my rrien, and communicated to them fully the information I had just received. I then expressed to them my fixed de- termination to proceed to the end of the enterprise on which I had been sent ; but as the situation of the country gave me some reason to appre- hend that it might be attended with an unfortunate result to some of us,. I would leave it optional with them to continue with me or to return. Among them were some five or six who I knew would remain. We had still ten days’ provisions; and, should no game be found, when this stock was expended, we had our horses and mules, which we could eat when other means of subsistence failed. But not a man flinched from the undertaking. “ We’ll eat the mules,” said Basil Lajeunesse ; and thereupon we shook hands with our interpreter and his Indians, and parted. With them I sent back one of my men, Dumes, whom the effects of an old wound in the leg rendered incapable of continuing the journey on foot, and his horse seemed on the point of giving out. Having re~ solved to disencumber ourselves immediately of every thing not abso- lutely necessary to our future operations, I turned directly in toward the river, and encamped on the left bank, a little above the place where our council had been held, and where a thick grove of willows offered a suit- able spot for the object I had in view. The carts having been discharged, the covers and wheels were taken, off, and, with the frames, carried into some low places among the willows, and concealed in the dense foliage in such a manner that the glitter of the iron work might not attract the observation of some straggling Indian. In the sand, which had been blown up into waves among the willows, a large hole was then dug, ten feet square, and six deep. In the mean time, 54 l *74 ] all our effects had been spread out upon the ground, and whatever was designed to be carried along with us separated and laid aside, and the re- maining part carried to the hole and carefully covered up. As much as possible, all traces of our proceedings were obliterated, and it wanted but a rain to render our cache safe beyond discovery. All the men were now set at work to arrange the pack saddles and make up the packs. The day was very warm and calm, and the sky entirely clear, except where, as usual along the summits of the mountainous ridge opposite, the clouds had congregated in masses. Our lodge had been planted, and, on account of the heat, the ground pins had been taken out, and the lower part slightly raised. Near to it was standing the barometer, which swung in a tripod frame; and within the lodge, where a small fire had been built, Mr. Preuss was occupied in observing the temperature of boiling water. At this instant, and without any warning until it was within fifty yards, a violent gust of wind dashed down the lodge, burying under it Mr. Preuss and about a dozen men, who had attempted to keep it from being carried away. I succeeded in saving the barometer, which the lodge was carry- ing off with itself, but the thermometer was broken. We had no others of a high graduation, none of those which remained going higher than 135° Fahrenheit. Our astronomical observations gave to this place, which we named Cache camp, a longitude of 106° 38' 26", latitude 42° 50' 53". July 29. — All our arrangements having been completed, we left the en- campment at 7 o’clock this morning. In this vicinity the ordinary road leaves the Platte, and crosses over to the Sweet Water river, which it strikes near Rock Independence. Instead of following this road, I had determined to keep the immediate valley of the Piatte so far as the mouth of the Sweet Water, in the expectation of finding better grass. To this I was further prompted by the nature of my instructions. To Mr. Carson was assigned the office of guide, as we had now reached a part of the country with which, or a great part of which, long residence had made him familiar. In a few miles we reached the Red Buttes, a famous land- mark in this country, whose geological composition is red sandstone, lime- stone, and calcareous sandstone and pudding stone. The river here cuts its way through a ridge ; on the eastern side of it are the lofty escarpments of red argillaceous sandstone, which are called the Red Buttes. In this passage the stream is not much compressed or pent up, there being a bank of considerable though variable breadth on either side. Immediately on entering, we discovered a band of buffalo. The hunters failed to kill any of them; the leading hunter being thrown into a ravine, which occasioned some delay, and in the mean time the herd clambered up the steep face of the ridge. It is sometimes wonderful to see these apparently clumsy animals make their way up and down the most rugged and broken precipices. We halted to noon before we had cleared this passage, at a spot twelve miles distant from Cache camp, where we found an abundance of grass. So far, the account of the Indians was found to be false. On the banks were willow and cherry trees. The cherries were not yet ripe, but in the thickets were numerous fresh tracks of the grizzly bear, which are very fond of this fruit. The soil here is red, the composition being derived from the red sandstone. About seven miles brought us through the ridge, in which the course of the river is north and south. Here the valley opens out broadly, and high walls of the red formation present themselves among the hills to the east. We crossed HOT SPRTNG GATE 55 [ 174 ] here a pretty little creek, an affluent of the right bank. It is well timber- ed with cottonwood in this vicinity, and the absinthe has lost its shrub- like character, and becomes small trees six and eight feet in height, and so # metimes eight inches in diameter. Two or three miles above this creek we made our encampment, having travelled to-day twenty-five miles. Our animals fared well here, as there is an abundance of grass. The river bed is made up of pebbles, and in the bank, at the level of the water, is a conglomerate of coarse pebbles about the size of ostrich eggs, and which I remarked in the banks of the Laramie fork. It is overlaid by a soil of mixed clay and sand, six feet thick. By astronomical observations, our position is in longitude 106° 54' 32", and latitude 42° 38'. July 30. — After travelling about twelve miles this morning, we reached a place where the Indian village had crossed the river. Here were the poles of discarded lodges and skeletons of horses lying about. Mr. Carson, who had never been higher up than this point on the river, which has the character of being exceedingly rugged, and walled in by precipices above, thought it advisable to camp near this place, where we were certain of ob- taining grass, and to-morrow make our crossing among the rugged hills to the Sweet Water river. Accordingly we turned back and descended the river to an island near by, which was about twenty acres in size, covered with a luxuriant growth of grass. The formation here I found highly interesting. Immediately at this island the river is again shut up in the rugged hills, which come down to it from the main ridge in a succession of spurs three or four hundred feet high, and alternated with green level prairillons or meadows, bordered on the river banks with thickets of wil- low, and having many plants to interest the traveller. The island lies be- tween two of these ridges, three or four hundred yards apart, of which that on the right bank is composed entirely of red argillaceous sandstone, with thin layers of fibrous gypsum. On the left bank, the ridge is com- posed entirely of siliceous pudding stone, the pebbles in Jhe numerous strata increasing in size from the top to the bottom, where they are as large as a man’s head. So far as I was able to determine, these strata in- cline to the northeast, with a dip of about 15°. This pudding stone, or conglomerate formation, I was enabled to trace through an extended range of country, from a few miles east of the meridian of Fort Laramie to where I found it superposed on the granite of the Ttocky mountains, in longitude 109° 00'. From its appearance, the main chain of the Laramie mountain is composed of this rock ; and in a number of places I found isolated hills, which served to mark a former level, which had been probably swept away. These conglomerates are very friable, and easily decomposed ; and I am inclined to think this formation is the source from which was derived the great deposite of sand and gravel which forms the surface rock of the prairie country west of the Mississippi. Crossing the ridge of red sandstone, and traversing the little prairie which lies to the southward of it, we made in the afternoon an excursion to a place which we have called the Hot Spring Gate. This place has much the ap- pearance of a gate, by which the Platte passes through a ridge composed of a white and calcareous sandstone. The length' of the passage is about four hundred yards, with a smooth green prairie on either side. Through this place, the stream flows with a quiet current, unbroken by any rapid, and is about seventy yards wide between the walls, which rise perpen- 56 [ 174 ] dicularly from the water. To that on the right bank, which is the lowpr, the barometer gave a height of three hundred and sixty feet. Annexed is a view of this place, which will be more particularly described here- after, as we passed through it on our return. We saw here numerous herds of mountain sheep, and frequently heard the volley of rattling stones which accompanied their rapid descent down the steep hills. This was the first place at which we had killed any of these animals ; and, in consequence of this circumstance, and of the abundance of these sheep or goats, (for they are called by each name,) we gave to our encampment the name of Goat Island. Their flesh is much esteemed by the hunters, and has very much the flavor of the Allegany mountain sheep. I have frequently seen the horns of this animal three feet long and seventeen inches in circumference at the base, weighing eleven pounds. But two or three of these were killed by our party at this place, and of these the horns were small. The use of these horns seems to be to protect the animal’s head in pitching down precipices to avoid pursuing wolves — their only safety being in places where they can- not be followed. The bones are very strong and solid, the marrow occu- pying but a very small portion of the bone in the leg, about the thickness of a rye straw. The hair is short, resembling the winter color of our com- mon deer, which it nearly approaches in size and appearance. Except in the horns, it has no resemblance whatever to the goat. The longitude of this place, resulting from chronometer and lunar distances, and an occulta- tion of £ Arietis, is 107° 13' 29", and the latitude 42° 33' 27". One of our horses, which had given out, we left to receive strength on the island, intend- ing to take her, 'perhaps, on our return. July 31. — This morning we left the course of the Platte, to cross over to the Sweet Water. Our way, for a few*miles, lay up the sandy bed of a dry creek, in which I found several interesting plants. Leaving this, we wound om wa^ to the summit of the hills, of which the peaks are here eight hunared feet above the Platte, bare and rocky. A long and gradual slope led from these hills to the Sweet Water, which we reached in fifteen miles from Goat Island. I made an early encampment here, in order to give the hunters an opportunity to procure a supply from several bands of buffalo, which made their appearance in the valley near by. The stream here is about sixty feet wide, and at this time twelve to eighteen inches deep, with a very moderate current. The adjoining prairies are sandy, but the immediate river bottom is a good soil, which afforded an abundance of soft green grass to our horses, and where I found a variety of interesting plants, which made their ap- pearance for the first time. A rain to-night made it unpleasantly cold ; and there was no tree here, to enable us to pitch our single tent, the poles of which had been le.ft at Cache camp . We had, therefore, no shelter except what was to be found under cover of the absinthe bushes, which grew in many thick patches, one or tw? and sometimes three feet high. August 1. — The hunters went ahead this morning, as buffalo appeared tolerably abundant, and I was desirous to secure a small stock of pro- visions; and we moved about seven miles up the valley, ana encamped one mile below Rock Independence. This is an isolated granite rock, about six hundred and fifty yards long, and forty in height. Except in a depression of the summit, where a little soil supports a scanty growth devil’s gate 57 [ 174 ] of shrubs, with a solitary dwarf pine, it is entirely bare. Every where within six or eight feet of the ground, where the surface is sufficiently smooth, and in some places sixty or eighty feet above, the rock is inscribed with the names of travellers. Many a name famous in the history of this country, and some well known to science, are to be found mixed among those of the traders and of travellers for pleasure and curiosity, and of mis- sionaries among the savages. Some of these have been washed away by the rain, but the greater number are still very legible. The position of this rock is in longitude 107° 56', latitude 42° 29' 36". We remained at our camp of August 1st until noon of the next day, occupied in drying meat. By observation, the longitude of the place is 107° 25' 23", latitude 42° 29' 56". August 2. — Five miles above Rock Independence we came to a place called the Devil’s Gate, where the Sweet Water cuts through the point of a granite ridge. The length of the passage is about three hundred yards, and the width thirty-five yards. The walls of rock are vertical, and about four hundred feet in height; and the stream in the gate is almost entirely choked up by masses which have fallen from above. In the wall, on the right bank, is a dike of trap rock, cutting through a fine-grained gray gran- ite. Near the point of this ridge crop out some strata of the valley forma- tion, consisting of a grayish micaceous sandstone, and fine-grained con- glomerate, and marl. We encamped eight miles above the Devil’s Gate, of which a view is given*in the annexed plate. There was no timber of any kind on the river, but good fires were made of drift wood, aided by the bois de vache. We had to-night no shelter from the rain, which commenced with squalls of wind about sunset. The country here is exceedingly pic- turesque. On either side of the valley; which is four or five miles broad, the mountains rise to the height of twelve and 'fifteen hundred or two thousand feet. On the south side, the range appears to be .timbered, and to-night is luminous with fires — probably the work of the Indians, who have just passed through the valley. On the north, broken and granite masses rise abruptly from the green sward of the river, terminating in a line of broken summits. Except in the crevices of the rock, and here and there on a ledge or bench of the mountain, where a few hardy pines have clustered together, these are perfectly bare and destitute of vege- tation. Among these masses, where there are sometimes isolated hills and ridges, green valleys open in upon the river, which sweeps the base of these mountains for thirty-six miles. Every where its deep verdure and profusion of beautiful flowers is in pleasing contrast with the sterile grandeur of the rock and the barrenness of the sandy plain, which, from the right bank of the river, sweeps up to the mountain range that forms its southern boundary. The great evaporation on the sandy soil of this elevated plain, and the saline efflorescences which whiten the ground, and shine like lakes reflecting the sun, make a soil wholly unfit fox culti- vation. August 3. — We were early on the road the next morning, travelling along the upland part of the valley, which is overgrown with artemisia. Scattered about on the plain are occasional small isolated hills. One of these which I examined, about fifty feet high, consisted of white clay and marl, in nearly horizontal strata. Several bands of buffalo made their ap- 53 [ 174 ] pearance to-day. with herds of antelope ; and a grizzly bear — the only one we encountered during the journey— was seen scrambling up among the rocks. As we passed over a slight rise near the river, we caught the first view of the Wind river mountains, appearing, at this distance of about seventy miles, to be a low and dark mountainous ridge. The view dissipat- ed in a moment the pictures which had been created in our minds, by many descriptions of travellers, who have compared these mountains to the Alps in Switzerland, and speak of the glittering peaks which rise in icy majesty amidst the eternal glaciers nine or ten thousand feet into the region of eter- nal snows. The nakedness of the river was relieved by groves of willows, where we encamped at night, after a march of twenty-six miles ; and nu- merous bright-colored flowers had made the river bottom look gay as a garden. We found here a horse, which had been abandoned by the In- dians, because his hoofs had been so much worn that he was unable to travel; and, during the night, a dog came into the camp. August 4. — Our camp was at the foot of the granite mountains, which we climbed this morning to take some barometrical heights; and here among the rocks was seen the first magpie. On our return, we saw one at the mouth of the Platte river. We left here one of our horses, which was unable to proceed farther. A few miles from the encampment we left the river, which makes a bend to the south, and, traversing an undulating country, consisting of a grayish micaceous sandstone and fine-grained con- glomerates, struck it again, and encamped, after a journey of twenty-five miles. Astronomical observations placed us in latitude 42° 32' 30", and longitude 108° 30' 13". August 5. — The morning was dark, with a driving rain, and disagree- ably cold. We continued our route as usual ; but the weather became so bad, that we were glad to avail ourselves of the shelter offered by a small island, about ten miles above our last encampment, which was covered with a dense growth of willows. There was fine grass for our animals, and the timber afforded us comfortable protection and good fires. In the afternoon, the sun broke through the clouds for a short time, and the ba- rometer at 5, p. m., was at 23.713, the thermometer 60°, with the wind strong from the northwest. We availed ourselves of the fine weather to make excursions in the neighborhood. The river, at this place, is border- ed by hills of the valley formation. They are of moderate height ; one of the highest peaks on the right bank being, according to the barometer, one hundred and eighty feet above the river. On the left bank they are higher. They consist of a fine white clayey sandstone, a white calcareous sandstone, and coarse sandstone or pudding stone. August 6. — It continued steadily raining all the day ; but, notwithstand- ing, we left our encampment in the afternoon. Our animals had been much refreshed by their repose, and an abundance of rich, soft grass, which had been much improved by the rains. In about three miles, we reached the entrance of a kanyon , where the Sweet Water issues upon the more open valley we had passed ovet. Immediately at the entrance, and super- imposed directly upon the granite, are strata of compact calcareous sand- stone and chert, alternating with fine white and reddish white, and fine gray and red sandstones. These strata dip to the eastward at an angle of about 18°, and form the western limit of the sandstone and limestone forma- tions on the line of our route. Here we entered among the primitive rocks. The usual road passes to the right of this place; but we wound, 59 [ 174 ] or rather scrambled, our way up the narrow valley for several hours. Wildness and disorder were the character of this scenery. The river had been swollen by the late rains, and came rushing through with an impetuous current, three or four feet deep, and generally twenty yards broad. The valley was sometimes the breadth of the stream, and sometimes opened into little green meadows, sixty yards wide, with open groves of aspen. The stream was bordered throughout with aspen, beech, and willow; and tall pines grew on the sides and summits of the crags. On both sides, the granite rocks rose precipitously to the height of three hundred and five hundred feet, terminating in jagged and broken pointed peaks ; and frag- ments of fallen rock lay piled up at the foot of the precipices. Gneiss, mica slate, and a white granite, were among the varieties I noticed. Here were many old traces of beaver on the stream ; remnants of dams, near which were lying trees, which they had cut down, one and two feet in diameter. The hills entirely shut up the river- at the end of about five miles, and we turned up a ravine that led to a high prairie, which seemed to be the general level of the country. Hence, to the summit of the ridge, there is a regular and very gradual rise. Blocks of granite were piled up at the heads of the ravines, and small bare knolls of mica slate and milky quartz protruded at frequent intervals on the prairie, which was whitened in occasional spots with srji^J^alt jajses, where the water had evaporated, and left the bed covered with a shining incrustation of salt. The evening was very cold, a northwest wind driving a fine rain in our faces ; and at nightfall we descended to a little stream, on which we encamped, about two miles from the Sweet Water. Here had recently been a very large ( camp of Snake and Crow Indians ; and some large poles lying about af- forded the means of pitching a tent, and making other places of shelter. Our fires to-night were made principally of the dry branches of the arte- misia, which covered the slopes. It burns quickly, with a clear oily flame, and makes a hot fire. The hills here are composed of hard, compact mica slate, with veins of quartz. •August 7. — We left our encampment with the rising sun. As we rose from the bed of the creek, the snow line of the mountains stretched grandly before us, the white peaks glittering in the sun. They had been hidden in the dark weather of the last few days, and it had been snowing on them, w T hile it rained in the plains. We crossed a ridge, and again struck the Sweet Water — here a beautiful, swift stream, with a more open valley, timbered with beech and cottonwood. It now began to lose itself in the many small forks which make its head ; and we continued up the main stream until near noon, when we left it a few miles, to make our noon halt on a small creek among the hills, from which the stream issues by a small opening. Within was a beautiful grassy spot, covered with an open grove of large beech trees, among which I found several plants that I had not previously seen. The afternoon was cloudy, with squalls of rain ; but the weather be- came fine at sunset, when we again encamped on the Sweet Water, with- in a few miles of the South Pass. The country over which we have passed to-day consists principally of the compact mica slate, which crops out on all the ridges, making .the uplands very rocky and slaty. In the escarpments which border the creeks, it is seen alternating with a light- colored granite, at an inclination of 45° ; the beds varying in thickness from two or three feet to six or eight hundred. At a distance, the granite 60 [ 1?4 ] y frequently has the appearance of irregular lumps of clay, hardened by ex- posure. A variety of asters may now be numbered amoug the character- istic plants, and the artemisia continues in full glory ; but cacti have be- come rare, and mosses begin to dispute the hills with them. The evening was damp and unpleasant; the thermometer, at 10 o’clock, being at 36°, and the grass wet with a heavy dew. Our astronomical observations placed this encamptment in 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 to cross the dividing ridge by a bridle path among the broken country more immediately at the foot of the mountains, and return by the wagon road, two and a half miles to the south of the point where the trail crosses. * A bout six miles from our encampment brought us to the summit. The ascent had been so gradual, that, with all the intimate knowledge pos- sessed by Carson, who had. made this country his home for seventeen years, we were obliged to watch very closely to find the place at which we had reached the culminating point. This was between two low hills, rising on either hand fifty or sixty feet. When I looked back at them, from the foot of the immediate slope on the western plain, their summits appeared to be about one hundred and twenty feet above. From the im- pression on my mind at this time, and subsequently on our return, I should compare the elevation which we surmounted immediately at the Pass, to the ascent of the Capitol hill from the avenue, at Washington. It is diffi- cult for me to fix positively the breadth of this pass. From the broken ground where it commences, at the foot of the Wind river chain, the view to the southeast is over a champaign country, broken, at the distance of nineteen miles, by the Table rock ; which, with the other isolated hills in its vicinity, seems to stand on a comparative plain. This I judged to be its termination, the ridge recovering its rugged character with the Table rock. It will be seen that it in no manner resembles the places to which the term is commonly applied — nothing of the gorge-like character and winding ascents of the Allegheny passes in America: nothing of the Great St. Bernard and Simplon passes in Europe. Approaching it from the mouth of the Sweet Water, a sandy plain, one hundred and twenty miles long, conducts, by a gradual and regular ascent, to the summit, about seven thousand feet above the sea ; and the traveller, without being re- minded of any change by toilsome ascents, suddenly finds himself on the waters which flow to the Pacific ocean. By the route we had travelled, the distance from Fort Laramie is three hundred and twenty miles, or nine hundred and fifty from the mouth of the Kansas. Continuing our march, we reached, in eight miles from the Pass, the Little Sandy, one of the tributaries of the Colorado, or Green river of the Gulf of California. The weather had grown fine during the morning, and we remained here the rest of the day, to dry our baggage and take some astronomical observations. The stream was about forty feet wide, and two or three deep, with clear water and a full swift current, over a sandy bed. It was timbered with a growth of low bushy and dense willows, among which were little verdant spots, which gave our animals fine grass, and where I found a number of interesting plants. Among the neighbor- ing hills I noticed fragments of granite containing magnetic iron. Longi- tude of the camp was 109° 37' 59", and latitude 42° 27’ 34". August 9. — We made our noon halt to-day on Big Sandy, another 61 C 174 ] tributary of Green river. The face of the country traversed was of a brown sand of granite materials, the detritus of the neighboring mountains. Strata of the milky quartz cropped out, and blocks of granite were scat- tered about, containing magnetic iron. On Sandy creek the formation was of parti-colored sand, exhibited in escarpments fifty to eighty feet high. In the afternoon we had a severe storm of hail, and encamped at sunset on the first New Fork. Within the space of a few miles, the Wind moun- tains supply a number of tributaries to Green river, which are all called the New Forks. Near our camp were two remarkable isolated hills, one of them sufficiently large to merit the name of mountain. They are called the Two Buttes, and will serve to identify the place of our encampment,' which the observations of the evening placed in longitude 109° 58' li", and latitude 42° 42' 46". On the right bank of the stream, opposite to the large hill, the strata which are displayed consist of decomposing granite, which supplies the brown sand of which the face of the country is com- posed to a considerable depth. •August 10. — The air at sunrise is clear and pure, and the morning ex- tremely cold, but beautiful. A lofty snow peak of the mountain is glitter- ing in the first rays of the sun, which has not yet reached us. The long mountain wall>to the east, rising two thousand feet abruptly from the plain, behind which we see the peaks, is still dark, and cuts clear against the glowing sky. A fog, just risen from the river, lies along the base of the mountain. A little before sunrise, the thermometer was at 35°, and at sunrise 33°. Water froze last night, and fires are very comfortable. The scenery becomes hourly more interesting and grand, and the view here is truly magnificent; but, indeed, it needs something to repay the long prai- rie journey of a thousand miles. The sun has just shot above the wall, and makes a magical change. The whole valley is glowing and bright, and all the mountain peaks are gleaming like silver. Though these snow mountains are not the Alps, they have their own character of grandeur and magnificence, and will doubtless find pens and pencils to do them justice. In the scene before us, we feel how much wood improves a view. The pines on the mountain seemed to give it much additional beauty. I was agreeably disappointed in the character of the streams on this side of the ridge. Instead of the creeks, which description had led me to expect, I find bold, broad streams, with three or four feet water, and a rapid cur- rent. The fork on which we are encamped is upwards of a hundred feet ♦ wide, timbered with groves or thickets of the low willow. We were now approaching the loftiest part of the Wind river chain ; and I left the val- ley a few miles from our encampment, intending to penetrate the moun- tains as far as possible with the whole party. We were soon involved in very broken ground, among long ridges covered with fragments of granite Winding our way up a long ravine, we came unexpectedly in view of a most beautiful lake, set like a gem in the mountains. The sheet of water lay transversely across the direction we had been pursuing ; and, descend- ing the steep, rocky ridge, where it was necessary to lead our horses, we followed its banks to the southern extremity. Here a view of the utmost magnificence and grandeur burst upon our eyes. With nothing between us and their feet to lessen the effect of the whole height, a grand bed of snow-capped mountains rose before us, pile upon pile, glowing in the bright light of an August day. Immediately below them lay the lake, between two ridges, covered with dark pines, which swept down from [ 174 ] 62 the main chain to the spot where we stood. Here, where the lake glittered in the open sunlight, its banks of yellow sand and the light foliage of aspen groves contrasted well with the gloomy pines. “Never before,” said Mr. Preuss, “in this country or in Europe, have I seen such magnificent, grand rocks.” I was so much pleased with the beauty of the place, that I determined to make the main camp here, where our animals would find good pasturage, and explore the mountains with a small party of men. Proceeding a little further, we came suddenly upon the outlet of the lake, ' where it found its way through a narrow passage between low hills. Dark pines, which overhung the stream, and masses of rock, where the water foamed along, gave it much romantic beauty. Where we crossed, which was immediately at the outlet, it is two hundred and fifty feet wide, and so deep, that with difficulty we were able to ford it. Its bed was an ac- cumulation of rocks, boulders, and broad slabs, and large angular frag- ments, among which the animals fell repeatedly. The current was very swift, and the water cold, and of a crystal purity. In crossing this stream, I met with a great misfortune in having my ba- rometer broken. It was the only one. A great part of the interest of the journey for me was in the exploration of these mountains, of which so much had been said that was doubtful and contradictory; and now their snowy peaks rose majestically before me, and the only means of giving them authentically to science, the object of my anxious solicitude by night and day, was destroyed. We had brought this barometer in safety a thousand miles, and broke it almost among the snow of the mountains. The loss was felt by the whole camp— all had seen my anxiety, and aided me in preserving it. The height of these mountains, considered by the hunters and traders the highest in the whole range, had been a theme of constant discussion among them ; and all had looked forward with pleas- ure to the moment when the instrument, which they believed to be true j as the sun, should stand upon the summits, and decide their disputes, i Their grief was only inferior to my own. This lake is about three miles long, and of very irregular width, and. apparently great depth, and is the head water of the third New Fork, a tributary to Green river, the Colorado of the west. On the map and in the narrative, I have called it Mountain lake. I encamped on the north side, about three hundred and fifty yards from the outlet. This was the most western point at which I obtained astronomical observations, by which this place, called Bernier’s encampment, is made in 110 ° 08 ' 03 " west lon- # gitude from Greenwich, and latitude 43 ° 49 ' 49 ". The mountain peaks, as laid down, were fixed by bearings from this and other astronomical poinis. We had no other compass than the small ones used in sketching the country; but from an azimuth, in which one of them was used, the variation of the compass is 18 ° east. The correction made in our field work by the astronomical observations indicates that this is a very correct observation. As soon as the camp was formed, I set about endeavoring to repair my barometer. As I have already said, this was a standard cistern barometer, of Troughton’s construction. The glass cistern had been broken about midway ; but as the instrument had been kept in a proper position, no air had found its way into the tube, -the end of which had always remained covered. I had with me a number of vials of tolerably thick glass, some of which were of the same diameter as the cistern, and I spent the day in 63 [ 174 ] slowly working on these, endeavoring to cut them of the requisite length ; but, as my instrument was a very rough file, I invariably broke them. A groove was cut in one of the trees, where £he barometer was placed during the night, to be out of the way of any possible danger, and in the morning I commenced again. Among the powder horns in the camp, I found one which was very transparent, so that its contents could be almost as plainly seen as through glass. This I boiled and stretched on a piece of wood to the requisite diameter, and scraped it very thin, in order to increase to the utmost its transparency. I then secured it firmly in its place on the instru- ment, with strong glue made from a buffalo, and filled it with mercury, properly heated. A piece of skin, which had covered one of the vials, furnished a good pocket,twhich was well secured with strong thread and glue, and then the brass cover was screwed to its place. The instrument was left some time to dry ; and when I reversed it, a few hours after, I had the satisfaction to find it in perfect order ; its indications being about the same as on the other side of the lake before it had been broken. Our suc- cess in this little incident diffused pleasure throughout the camp ; and we immediately set about our preparations for ascending the mountains. As will be seen on reference to a map, on this short mountain chain are the head waters of four great rivers of the continent ; namely, the Col- orado, Columbia, Missouri, and Platte rivers. It had been my design, af- ter having ascended the mountains, to continue our route on the western side of the range, and crossing through a pass at the northwestern end of the chain, about thirty miles from our present camp, return along the eastern slope, across the heads of the Yellowstone river, and join on the line to our station of August 7, immediately at the foot of the ridge. In this way, I should be enabled to include the whole chain, and its nume- rous waters, in my survey ; but various considerations induced me, very reluctantly, to abandon this plan. I was desirous to keep strictly within the scope of my instructions ; and it would have required ten or fifteen additional days for the accomplishment of this object ; our animals had become very much worn out with the length of the journey; game was very scarce; and, though it does not appear in the course of the narative, (as I have avoided dwelling upon trifling inci- dents not connected with the objects of the expedition,) the spirits of the men had been much exhausted by the hardships and privations to which they had been subjected. Our provisions had wellnigh all disappeared. Bread had been long out of the question ; and of all our stock, we had re- maining two or three pounds of coffee, and a small quantity of maccaroni, which had been husbanded with great care for the mountain expedition we were about to undertake. Our daily meal consisted of dry buffalo meat, cooked in tallow ; and, as we had not dried this with Indian skill, part of it tvas spoiled ; and what remained of good, was as hard as wood, having much the taste and appearance of so many pieces of bark. Even of this, our stock was rapidly diminishing in a camp which was capable of consuming two buffaloes in every twenty-four hours. These animals had entirely disappeared; and it was not probable that we should fall in with them again until we returned to the Sweet Watfir. Our arrangements for the ascent were rapidly completed. We were in a hostile country, which rendered the greatest vigilance and circumspec- tion necessary. The pass at the north end of the mountain was generally infested by Blackfeet ; and immediately opposite was one of their forts, on 64 l 174 ] the edge of a little thicket, two or three hundred feet from our encamp- ment. We were posted in a grove of beech, on the margin of the lake, and a few hundred feet long, with a narrow prairillon on the inner side, bordered by the rocky ridge. In the upper end of this grove we cleared a circular space about forty feet in diameter, and, with the felled timber and interwoven branches, surrounded it with a breastwork five feet in height. A gap was left for a gate on the inner side, by which the animals were ! to be driven in and secured, while the men slept around the little work, i It was half hidden by the foliage; and, garrisoned by twelve resolute men, would have set at defiance any band of savages which might chance i to discover them in the interval of our absence. Fifteen of the best ^ mules, with fourteen men, were selected for the- mountain party. Our pro- visions consisted of dried meat for two days, with our little stock of coffee | and some maccaroni. In addition to the barometer and a thermometer, I took with me a sextant and spy glass, and we had of course our compasses. - In charge of the camp I left Bernier, one of my most trustworthy men, who possessed the most, determined courage. August 12. — Early in the morning we left the camp, fifteen in number, well armed, of course, and mounted on our best, mules. A pack animal carried our provisions, with a coffee pot and kettle, and three or four tin cups. Every man had a blanket strapped over his saddle, to serve 'for his bed, and the instruments were carried by turns on their backs. We en- tered directly on rough and rocky ground; and, just after crossing the ridge, had the good fortune to shoot an antelope. We heard the roar, and ; had a glimpse of a waterfall as we rode along ; and, crossing in our way j two fine streams, tributary to the Colorado, in about two hours’ ride we reached the top of the first row or range of the mountains. Here, again, a view of the most romantic beauty met our eyes. It seemed as if, from the vast expanse of uninteresting prairie we had passed over, Nature had collected all her beauties together in one chosen place. We were over- looking a deep valley, which was entirely occupied by three lakes, and from the brink the surrounding ridges rose precipitously five hundred and a thousand feet, covered with the dark green of the balsam pine, relieved on the border of the lake with the light foliage of the aspen. They ail communicated with each other; and the green of the waters, common to mountain lakes of great depth, showed that it would be impossible to cross them. The surprise manifested by our guides when these impassable obstacles suddenly barred our progress proved that they were among the hidden treasures of the place, unknown even to the wandering trappers of the region. Descending the hill, we proceeded to make our way along the margin to the southern extremity. A narrow strip of angular frag- ments of rock sometimes afforded a rough pathway for our mules, but generally we rode along the shelving side, occasionally scrambling up, at a considerable risk of tumbling back into the lake. The slope was frequently 60°; the pines grew densely together, and the ground was covered with the branches and trunks of trees. The air was fragrant with the odor of the pines ; and I realized this delightful morning the pleasure of breathing that mountain air which makes a con- stant theme of the hunter’s praise, and which now made us feel as if we had all been drinking some exhilarating gas. The depths of this unex- plored forest were a place to delight the heart of a botanist. There was a rich undergrowth of plants, and numerous gay-colored flowers in bril- 65 [ 174 ] liant bloom. We reached the outlet at length, where some freshly barked willows that lay in the water showed that beaver had been recently at work. There were some small brown squirrels jumping about in the pines, and a couple of large mallard ducks swimming about in the stream. The hills on this southern end were low, and the lake looked like a mimic sea, as the waves broke on the sandy beach in the force of a strong breeze. There was a pretty open spot, with fine grass for our mules; and we made our noon halt on ihe beach, under the shade of some large hem- locks. We resumed our journey after a halt of about an hour, making our way up the ridge on the western side of the lake. In search of smoother ground, we rode a little inland; and, passing through groves of aspen, soon found ourselves again among the p,ines. Emerging from these, we struck the summit of the ridge above the upper end of the lake. We had reached a very elevated point ; and in the valley below, and among the hills, were a number of lakes at different levels ; some two or three hundred feet above others, with which they communicated by foam- ing torrents. Even to our great height, the roar of the cataracts came up, and we could see them leaping down in lines of snowy foam. From this scene of busy waters, we turned abruptly into the stillness of a forest, where we rode among the open bolls of the pines, over a lawn of verdant grass, having strikingly the air of cultivated grounds. This led us, after a time, among masses of rock which had no vegetable earth but in hollows and crevices, though still the pine forest continued. Toward evening, we reached a defile, or rather a hole in the mountains, entirely shut in by dark pine-covered rocks. A small stream, with a scarcely perceptible current, flowed through a level bottom of perhaps eighty yards width, where the grass was saturated with water. Into this the mules were turned, and were neither hobbled nor picketed during the night, as the fine pasturage took away all tempta- tion to stray ; and we made our bivouac in the pines. The surrounding masses were all of granite. While supper was being prepared, I set out on an excursion in the neighborhood, accompanied by one of my men. We wandered about among the crags and ravines until dark, richly repaid for our walk by a fine collection of plants, many of them in full bloom. Ascending a peak to find the place of our camp, we saw that the little defile in which we lay communicated with the long green valley of some stream, which, here locked up in the mountains, far away to the south, found its way in a dense forest to the plains. Looking along its upward course, it seemed to conduct, by a smooth gradual slope, directly toward the peak, which, from long consultation as we approached the mountain, we had decided to be the highest of the range. Pleased with the discovery of so fine a road for the next day, we hastened down to the camp, where we arrived just in time for supper. Our table service was rather scant; and we held the meat in our hands, and clean rocks made good plates, on which we spread our maccaroni. Among all the strange places on which we had occasion to encamp during our long journey, none have left so vivid an impression on my mind as the camp of this evening. The disorder of the masses which surrounded us; the little hole through which we saw the stars overhead; the dark pipes where we slept; and the rocks lit up with the glow of our fires, made a night picture of very wild beauty. August 13.-— The morning was bright and pleasant, just cool enough 5 66 [ !?4 ] to make exercise agreeable, and we soon entered the defile I had seen the preceding day. It was smoothly carpeted with a soft grass, and scattered over with' groups of flowers, of which yellow was the predominant color. Sometimes we were forced, by an occasional difficult pass, to pick our way on a narrow ledge along the side of the defile, and the mules were fre- quently on their knees; but these obstructions were rare, and we journeyed on in the sweet morning air, delighted at our good fortune in having found such a beautiful entrance to the mountains. This road continued for about three miles, when we suddenly reached its termination in one of the grand views which, at every turn, meet the traveller in this magnificent region. Here the defile up which we had travelled opened out into a small lawn, where, in a little lake, the stream had its source. There were some fine asters in bloom, but all the flowering plants appear- ed to seek the shelter of the rocks, and to be of lower growth than below, as if they loved the warmth of the soil, and kept out of the way of the winds Immediately at our feet a precipitous descent led to a confusion of defiles, and before us rose the mountains as we have represented them in the annexed view. It is not by the splendor of far-off views, which have lent such a glory to the Alps, that these impress the mind ; but by a gigantic disorder of enormous masses, and a savage sublimity of naked rock, in wonderful contrast with innumerable green spots of a rich floral beauty, shut up in their stern recesses. Their wildness seems well suited to the character of the people who inhabit the country. 1 determined to leave our animals here, and make the rest of our way on foot. The peak appeared so near, that there was no doubt of our returning before night; and a few men were left in charge of the mules, with our pro- visions and blankets. We took with us nothing but our arms and instru- ments, and, as the day had become warm, the greater part left our coats. Having made an early dinner, we started again. We were soon involved in the most ragged precipices, nearing the central chain very slowly, and rising but little. The first ridge hid a succession of others; and when, with great fatigue and difficulty, we had climbed up five hundred feet, it was but to make an equal descent on the other side ; all these intervening places were filled with small deep lakes, which met the eye in every direction, descending from one level to another, sometimes under bridges formed by huge fragments of granite, beneath which was heard the roar of the water. These constantly obstructed our path, forcing us to make long detours; frequently obliged to retrace our steps, and frequently falling among the rocks. Maxwell was precipitated toward the face of a precipice, and saved himself from going over by throwing himself flat on the ground. We clambered on, always expecting, with every ridge that we crossed, to reach the foot of the peaks, and always disappointed, until about 4 o’clock, when, pretty well worn out, we reached the shore of a little lake, in which there was a rocky island, and from which we obtained the view given in the frontispiece. We remained here a short time to rest, and continued on around the lake, which had in some places a beach of white sand, and in others was bound with rocks, over which the way was difficult and dan- gerous, as the water from innumerable springs made them very slippery. By the time we had reached the further side of the lake, we found our- selves all exceedingly fatigued, and, much to the satisfaction of the whole party, we encamped. The spot we had chosen was a broad flat rock, in some measure protected from the win'ds by the surrounding crags, and the VIEW OF THE WIND 67 [ 174 ] trunks of fallen pines afforded us bright fires. Near by was a foaming tor- rent, which tumbled into the little lake about one hundred and fifty feet below us, and which, by way of distinction, we have called Island lake. We had reached the upper limit of the piney region ; as, above this point, no tree was to be seen, and patches of snow lay every where around us on the cold sides of the rocks. The flora of the region we had traversed since leaving our mules was extremely rich, and, among the characteristic plants, the scarlet flowers of the dodecatheon dent alum every where met the eye in great abundance. A small green ravine, on the edge of which we were encamped, was filled with a profusion of alpine plants in brilliant bloom. From barometrical observations, made during our three days’ sojourn at this place, its elevation above the Gulf of Mexico is 10,000 feet. During the day, we had seen no sign of animal life ; but among the rocks here, we heard what was supposed to be the bleat of a young goat, which we search- ed for with hungry activity, and found to proceed from a small animal of a gray color, with short ears and no tail — probably the Siberian squirrel. We saw a considerable number of them, and, with the exception of a small bird like a sparrow, it is the only inhabitant of this elevated part of the moun- tains. On our return, we saw, below this lake, large flocks of the mountain ' goat. We had nothing to eat to-night. Lajeunesse, with several others, took their guns, and sallied out in search of a goat; but returned unsuccess- ful. At sunset, the barometer stood at 20.522 ; the attached thermometer 50°. Here we had the misfortune to break our thermometer, having now only that attached to the barometer. I was taken ill shortly after we had encamped, and continued so until late in the night, with violent headache and vomiting. This was probably caused by the excessive fatigue I had undergone, and want of food, and perhaps, also, in some measure, by the rarity of the air. The night was cold, as a violent gale from the north had sprung up at sunset, which entirely blew away the heat of the fires. The cold, and our granite beds, had not been favorable to sleep, and we were glad to see the face of the sun in the morning. Not being delayed by any preparation for breakfast, we set out immediately. On every side as we advanced was heard the roar of waters, and of a torrent, which we followed up a short distance, until it expanded into a lake about one mile in length. On the northern side of the }ake was a bank of ice, or rather of snow covered with a crust of ice. Carson had been our guide into the mountains, and, agreeably to his advice, we left this little valley, and took to the ridges again ; which we found extremely broken, and where we were again involved among precipices. Here were ice fields; among which we were all dispersed, seeking each the best path to ascend the peak. Mr. Preuss attempted to walk along the upper edge of one of these fields, which sloped away at an angle of about twenty degrees; but his feet slipped from under him, and he went plunging down the plane. A few hundred feet below, at the bottom, were some fragments of sharp rock, on which he landed ; and though he turned a couple of somersets, fortunately received no injury beyond a few bruises. Two of the men, Clement Lam- bert and Descoteaux, had been taken ill, and lay down on the rocks a short distance below ; and at this point I was attacked with headache and giddi- ness, accompanied by vomiting, as on the day before. Finding myself un- able to proceed, I sent the barometer over to Mr. Preuss, who was in a*gap two or three hundred yards distant, desiring him to reach the peak, if pos- sible, and take an observation there. He found himself unable to proceed 68 [ 174 ] 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 snowy summits of the main ridge, whence he saw the peak towards which all our efforts had been di- rected, towering eight or ten hundred feet into the air above him. In the mean time, finding myself grow rather worse than better, and doubtful how far my strength would carry me, I sent Basil Lajeunesse, with four men, back to the place where the mules had been left. We were now better acquainted with the topography of the country, and I directed him to bring back with him, if it were in any way possible, four or five mules, with provisions and blankets. With me were Maxwell and Ayer ; and after we had remained nearly an hour on the rock, it became so unpleasantly cold, though the day was bright, that we set out on our return to the camp, at which we all arrived safely, straggling in one after the other. I continued ill during the afternoon, but became better towards sundown, when my recovery was completed by the appearance of Basil and four men, all mounted. The men who had gone with him had been too much fatigued to return, and were relieved by those in charge of the horses ; but in his powers of endurance Basil resembled more a mountain goat than a man. They brought blankets and provisions, and we enjoyed well our dried meat and a cup of good coffee. We rolled ourselves up in our blankets, and, with our feet turned to a blazing fire, slept soundly until morning. August 15. — It had been supposed that we had finished with the moun- tains : and the evening before, it had been arranged that Carson should set out at daylight, and return to breakfast at the Camp of the Mules, taking with him all but four or five men, who were to stay with me and bring back the mules and instruments. Accordingly, at the break of day they set out. With Mr. Preuss and myself remained Basil Lajeunesse, Clement Lambert, Janisse, and Descoteaux. When we had secured strength for the day by a hearty breakfast, we covered what remained, which was enough for one meal, with rocks, in order that it might be safe from any marauding bird ; and, saddling our mules, turned our faces once more towards the peaks. This time we determined to proceed quietly and cautiously, deliberately resolved to accomplish our object if it were within the compass of human means. We were of opinion that a long defile which lay to the left of yes- terday’s route would lead us to the foot of the main peak. Our mules had been refreshed by the fine grass in the little ravine at the Island camp, and we intended to ride up the defile as far as possible, in order to husband our strength for the main ascent. Though this was a fine passage, still it was a defile of the most rugged mountains known, and we had many a rough and steep slippery place to cross before reaching the end. In this place the sun rarely shone ; snow lay along the border of the small stream which flowed through it, and occasional icy passages made the footing of the mules very insecure, and the rocks and ground were moist with the trickling waters in this spring of mighty rivers. We soon had the satisfaction to find ourselves riding along the huge wall which forms the central summits of the chain. There at last it rose by our sides, a nearly perpendicular wall of granite, terminating 2,000 to 3,000 feet above our heads in a serrated line of broken, jagged cones. We rode on until we came almost immediately below the main peak, which I denominated the Snow peak, as it exhibited more snow to the eye than any of the neighboring summits. Here were three small lakes of a green color, each of perhaps a thousand yards in 69 C 174 ] diameter, and apparently very deep. These lay in a kind of chasm; and, according to the barometer, we had attained but a few hundred feet above the Island lake. The barometer here stood at 20.450, attached thermome- ter 70°. ♦ We managed to get our mules up to a little bench about a hundred feet above the lakes, where there was a patch of good grass, and turned them loose to graze. During our rough ride to this place, they had exhibited a wonderful surefootedness. Parts of the defile were filled with angular, shar.p fragments of rock, three or four and eight or ten feet cube; and among these they had worked their way, leaping from one narrow point to another, rarely making a false step, and giving us no occasion to dismount. Having divested ourselves of every unnecessary encumbrance, we commenced the ascent. This time, like experienced travellers, we did not press ourselves, but climbed leisurely, sitting down so soon as we found breath beginning to fail. At intervals we reached places where a number of springs gushed from the rocks, and about 1,800 feet above the lakes came to the snow line. From this point our progress was uninterrupted climbing. Hitherto I had worn a pair of thick moccasins, with soles of parfleche; but here I put on a light thin pair, which I had brought for the purpose, as now the use of our toes became necessary to a further advance. I availed myself of a sort of comb of the mountain, which stood against the wall like a buttress, and which the wind and the solar radiation, joined to the steepness of the smooth rock, had kept almost entirely free from snow. Up this I made my way rapidly. Our cautious method of advancing in the outset had spared my strength ; and, with the exception of a slight disposition to headache, I felt no remains of yesterday’s illness. In a few minutes we reached a point where the buttress was overhanging, and there was no other way of sur- mounting the difficulty than by passing around one side of it, which was the face of a vertical precipice of several hundred feet. Putting hands and feet in the crevices between the blocks, I succeeded in getting over it, and, when I reached the top, found my companions in a small valley below. Descending to them, we continued climbing, and in a short time reached the crest. I sprang upon the summit, and another step would have precipitated me into an immense snow field five hundred feet below. To the edge of this field was a sheer icy precipice ; and then, with a gradual fall, the field sloped off for about a mile, until it struck the foot of another lower ridge. I stood on a narrow crest, about three feet in width, with an inclination of about 20° N. 51° E. As soon as I had grati- fied the first feelings of curiosity, I descended, and each man ascended in his turn; for I would only allow one at a time to mount the unstable and precarious slab, which it seemed a breath would hurl into the abyss below. We mounted the barometer in the snow of the summit, and, fixing a ramrod in a crevice, unfurled the national flag to wave in the breeze where never flag waved before. During our morning’s ascent, we had met no sign of animal life, except the small sparrow-like bird already mentioned. A still- ness the most profound and a terrible solitude forced themselves constantly on the mind as the great features of the place. Here, on the summit, where the stillness was absolute, unbroken by any sound, and the solitude com- plete, we thought ourselves beyond the region of animated life ; but while we were sitting on the rock, a solitary bee ( bromus , the humble bee) came winging his flight from the eastern valley, and lit on the knee of one of the men, 70 C 174 ] It was a strange place, the icy” rock and the highest peak of the Rocky mountains, for a lover of warm sunshine and flowers ; and we pleased our- selves with the idea that he was the first of his species to cross the mountain barrier — a solitary pioneer to foretell the advance of civilization. I believe that a moment’s thought would have made us let him continue his way un- harmed ; but we carried out the law of this country, where all animated na- ture seems at war ; and, seizing him immediately, put him in at least a fit place — in the leaves of a large book, among the flowers we had collected on our way. The barometer stood at 1S.293, the attached thermometer at 44°: giving for the elevation of this summit 13,570 feet above the Gulf of Mexico, which may be called the highest flight of the bee. It is certainly the highest known flight of that insect. From the description given by Mackenzie of the mountains where he crossed them, with that of a French officer still farther to the north, and Colonel Long’s measurements to the south, joined to the opinion of the oldest traders of the country, it is pre- sumed that this is the highest peak of the Rocky mountains. The day was sunny and bright, but a slight shining mist hung over the lower plains, which interfered with our view of the surrounding country. On one side we overlooked innumerable lakes and streams, the spring of the Colorado of the Gulf of California ; and on the other was the Wind river valley, where were the heads of the Yellowstone branch of the Missouri ; far to the north, we just could discover the snowy heads of the Trois Tetons, where were the sources of the Missouri and Columbia rivers; and at the southern ex- tremity of the ridge, the peaks were plainly visible, among which were some of the springs of the Nebraska or Platte river. Around us, the whole scene had one main striking feature, which was that of terrible convulsion. Parallel to its length, the ridge was split into chasms and fissures; between which rose the thin lofty walls, terminated with slender minarets and columns, which is correctly represented in the view from the camp on Island lake. According to the barometer, the little crest of the wall on which we stood was three thousand five hundred and seventy feet above that place, and two thousand seven hundred and eighty above the little lakes at the bottom, immediately at our feet. Our camp at the Two Hills (an astro- nomical station) bore south 3° east, which, with a bearing afterward ob- tained from a fixed position, enabled us to locate the peak. The bearing of the Trois- Tetons was north 50° west, and the direction of the central ridge of the Wind river mountains south 39° east. The summit rock was gneiss, succeeded by sienitic gneiss. Sienite and feldspar succeeded in our descent to the snow line, where we found a feldspathic granite. I had remarked that the noise produced by the explosion of our pistols had the usual degree of loudness, but was not in the least prolonged, expiring al- most instantaneously. Having now made what observations our means afforded, we proceeded to descend. We had accomplished an object of laudable ambition, and beyond the strict order of our instructions. We had climbed the loftiest peak of the Rocky mountains, and looked down upon the snow a thousand feet below, and, standing where never human foot had stood before, felt the exultation of first explorers. It was about 2 o’clock when we left the summit ; and when we reached the bottom, the sun had already sunk behind the wall, and the day was drawing to a close. It would have been pleasant to have lingered here and on the summit longer; but we hurried away as rapidly as the ground would permit, for it was an 71 [ 174 ] object to regain our party as soon as possible, not knowing what accident the next hour might bring forth. We reached our deposite of provisions at nightfall. Here was not the inn which awaits the tired traveller on his return from Mont Blanc, or the orange groves of South America, with their refreshing juices and soft fra- grant air ; but we found our little cache of dried meat and coffee undis- turbed. Though the moon was bright, the road was full of precipices, and the fatigue of the day had been great. We therefore abandoned the idea of rejoining our friends, and lay down on the rock, and, in spite of the cold, slept soundly. August 16. — We left our encampment with the daylight. We saw on our way large hocks of the mountain goat looking down on us from the cliffs. At the crack of a rifle, they would bound off among the recks, and in a few minutes make their appearance on some lofty peak, some hundred or a thousand feet above. It is needless to attempt any further description of the country; the portion over which we travelled this morning was rough as imagination could picture it, and to us seemed equally beautiful. A concourse of lakes and rushing waters, mountains of rocks naked and destitute of vegetable earth, dells and ravines of the most exquisite beauty, all kept green and fresh by the great moisture in the air, and sown with brilliant flowers, and every where thrown around all the glory of most mag- nificent scenes: these constitute the features of the place, and impress them- selves vividly on the mind of the traveller. It was not until 11 o’clock that we reached the place where our animals had been left, when we first at- tempted the mountains on foot. Near one of the still burning fires we found a piece of meat, which our friends had thrown away, and which furnished us a mouthful — a very scanty breakfast. We continued directly on, and reached our camp on the mountain lake at dusk. We found all well. Nothing hud occurred to interrupt the quiet since our departure, and the fine grass and good cool water had done much to re establish our animals. All heard with great delight the order to turn our faces homeward; and toward sundown of the 17th, we encamped again at the Two Buttes. In the course of this afternoon’s march, the barometer was broken past remedy. I regretted it, as I was desirous to compare it again with Dr. En- gelman’s barometers at St. Louis, to which mine were referred ; but it had done its part well, and my objects were mainly fulfilled. August 19. — We left our camp on Little Sandy river about 7 in the morning, and traversed the same sandy, undulating country. The air was filled with the turpentine scent of the various artemisias , which are now in bloom, and, numerous as they are, give much gayety to the landscape of the plains. At 10 o’clock, we stood exactly on the divide in the pass, where the wagon road crosses, and, descending immediately upon the S weet Water, halted to take a meridian observation of the sim. The latitude was 42° 24' 32'\ v In the course of the afternoon we saw buffalo again, and at our evening halt on the Sweet Water the roasted ribs again made their appearance around the fires ; and, with them, good humor, and laughter, and song, were restored to t 'e camp Our coffee had been expended, but we now made a kird of lea from the roots of the wild cherry tree. August 23. — Yesterday evening we reached our encampment at Rock Independence, wher i I took some astronomical observations. Here, not 72 [ 1?4 ] unmindful of the custom of early travellers and explorers in our country, I engraved on this rock of the Far West a symbol of the Christian faith. Among the thickly inscribed names, I made on the hard granite the im- pression of a large cross, which I covered with a black preparation of India rubber, well calculated to resist the influence of wind and rain. It stands amidst the names of many who have long since found their way to the grave, and for whom the huge rock is a giant gravestone. One George Weymouth was sent out to Maine by the Earl of South- ampton, Lord Arundel, and others ; and in the narrative of their discoveries, he says: “The next day, we ascended in our pinnace that part of the river which lies more to the westward, carrying with us a cross — a thing never omitted by any Christian traveller — which we erected at the ultimate end of our route.” This was in the year 1605 ; and in 1842 I obeyed the feeling of early travellers, and left the impression of the cross deeply en- graved on the vast rock one thousand miles beyond the Mississippi, to which discoverers have given the national name of Rock Independence. In obedience to my instructions to survey the river Platte, if possible, I had determined to make an attempt at this place. The India-rubber boat was filled with air, placed in the water, and loaded with what was neces- sary for our operations; and I embarked with Mr. Preuss and a party of men. When we had dragged our boat for a mile or two over the sands, I abandoned the impossible undertaking, and waited for the arrival of the party, when we packed up our boat and equipage, and at 9 o’clock were again moving along on our land journey. We continued along the valley on the right bank of the Sweet Water, where the formation, as already de- scribed, consists of a grayish micaceous sandstone, and fine-grained con- glomerate, and marl. We passed over a ridge which borders or constitutes the river hills of the Platte, consisting of huge blocks, sixty or eighty feet cube, of decomposing granite. The cement which united them was proba- bly of easier decomposition, and has disappeared and left them isolate, and separated by small spaces. Numerous horns of the mountain goat were lying among the rocks ; and in the ravines were cedars, whose trunks were of extraordinary size. From this ridge we descended to a small open plain at the mouth of the Sweet Water, which rushed with a rapid current into the Platte, here flowing along in a broad, tranquil, and apparently deep stream, which seemed, from its turbid appearance, to be considerably swollen. I obtained here some astronomical observations, and the after- noon was spent in getting oiir boat ready for navigation the next day. August 24. — We started before sunrise, intending to breakfast at Goat island. I had directed the land party, in charge of Bernier, to proceed to this place, where they were to remain, should they find no note to apprize them of our having passed. In the event of receiving this information, they were to continue their route, passing by certain places which had been designated. Mr. Preuss accompanied me, and with us were five of my best men, viz: C. "'Lambert, Basil Lajeunesse, Honore Ayot, Benoist, and Descoteaux. Here appeared no scarcity of water, and we took on board, with various instruments and baggage, provisions for ten or twelve days. We paddled down the river rapidly, for our little craft was light as a duck on the water; and the sun had been sometime risen, when we heard before us a hollow roar, which we supposed to be that of a fall, of which we had heard a vague rumor, but whose exact locality no one had been able to de- scribe tc us. We were approaching a ridge, through which the river passes 73 [ 174 ] by a place called “ canon, ” (pronounced /canyon,) a Spanish word, signify- ing a piece of artillery, the barrel of a gun, or any kind of tube ; and which, in this country, has been adopted to describe the passage of a' river between perpendicular rocks of great height, which frequently approach each other so closely overhead as to form a kind of tunnel over the stream, which foams along below, half choked up by fallen fragments. Between the mouth of the Sweet Water and Goat island, there is probably a fall of 300 feet, and that was principally made in the canons before us ; as, with- out them, the water was comparatively smooth. As we neared the ridge, the river made a sudden turn, and swept squarely down against one of the walls of the canon with a great velocity, and so steep a descent, that it had, to the eye, the appearance of an inclined plane. When we launched into this, the men jumped overboard, to check the velocity of the boat, but were soon in water up to their necks, and our boat ran on ; but we succeeded in bringing her to a small point of rocks on the right, at the mouth of the canon. Here was a kind of elevated sand beach, not many yards square, backed by the rocks, and around the point the river swept at a right angle. Trunks of trees deposited on jutting points 20 or 30 feet above, and other marks, showed that the water here frequently rose to a considerable height. The ridge was of the same decomposing granite already mentioned, and the water had worked the surface, in many places, into a wavy surface of ridges and holes. We ascended the rocks to reconnoitre the ground, and from the summit the passage appeared to be a continued cataract foaming over many obstructions, and broken by a number of small falls. We saw nowhere a fall answering to that which had been described to us as having 20 or 25 feet ; but still concluded this to be the place in question, as, in the season of floods, the rush of the river against the wall would produce a great rise, and the waters, reflected squarely off, would descend through the passage in a sheet of foam, having every appearance of a large fall. Eigh- teen years previous to this time, as I have subsequently learned from him- self, Mr. Fitzpatrick, somewhere above on this river, had embarked with a valuable cargo of beaver. Unacquainted with the stream, which he be- lieved would conduct him safely to the Missouri, he came unexpectedly into this canon, where ho was wrecked, with the total loss of his furs. At would have been a work of great time and labor to pack our baggage across the ridge, and I determined to run the canon. We all again embarked, and at first attempted to check the way of the boat ; but the water swept through with so much violence that we narrowly escaped being swamped, and were obliged to let her go in the full force of the current, and trust to the skill of the boatmen. The dangerous places in this canon were where huge rocks had fallen from above, and hemmed in the already narrow pass of the river to an open space of three or four and five feet. These obstructions raised the water considerably above, which was sometimes precipitated over in a fall ; and at other places, where this dam was too high, rushed through the contracted opening with tremendous violence. Had our boat been made of wood, in passing the narrows she would have been staved ; but her elasticity preserved her unhurt from every shock, and she seemed fairly to leap over the falls. In this way we passed three cataracts in succession, where, perhaps 100 feet of smooth water intervened ; and, finally, with a shout of pleasure at our success, issued from our tunnel into the open day beyond. We were so delighted with the performance of our boat, and so confident in her 74 1 [ 174 ] powers, that we would not have hesitated to leap a fall of ten feet with her. We put to shore for breakfast at some willows on the right bank, immedi- ja ately below the mouth of the canon ; for it was now 8 o’clock, and we had H been working since daylight, and were all wet, fatigued, and hungry. While the men were preparing breakfast, I went out to reconnoitre. The 1 view was very limited. The course of the river was smooth, so far as I could see; on both sides were broken hills; and but a mile or two below was another high ridge. The rock at the mouth of the canon was still the decomposing granite, with great quantities of mica, which made a very glittering sand. We re-embarked at 9 o’clock, and in about twenty minutes reached the next canon. Landing on a rocky shore at its commencement, we ascended the ridge to reconnoitre. Portage was out of the question. So far as we could see, the jagged rocks pointed out the course of the canon, on a wind- ing line of seven or eight miles. It was simply a narrow, dark chasm in the rock ; and here the perpendicular faces were much higher than in the previous pass, being at this end two to three hundred, and further down, as we afterwards ascertained, five hundrejd feet in vertical height. Our pre- vious success had made us bold, and we determined again to run the canon. Every thing was secured as firmly as possible ; and having divested our- selves of the greater part of our clothing, we pushed into the stream. To save our chronometer from accident, Mr. Preuss took it, and attempted to proceed along the shore on the masses of rock, which in places were piled ~ up on either side; but, after he had walked about five minutes, every thing like shore disappeared, and the vertical wall came squarely down into the water. He therefore waited until we came up An ugly pass lay before us. We had made fast to the stern of the boat a strong rope about fifty feet long; and three of the men clambered along among the rocks, and with this rope let her down slowly through the pass. In several places high rocks lay scat- tered about in the channel ; and in the narrows it required all our strength and skill to avoid staving the boat on the sharp points. In one of these, the boat proved a little too broad, and stuck fast for an instant, while the water flew over us; fortunately, it was but for an instant, as our united strength forced her immediately through. The water swept overboard only a sextant and a pair of saddlebags. I caught the sextant as it passed by me ; but the saddlebags became the prey of the whirlpools. We reached the place where Mr. Preuss was standing, took him on board, and, with the aid of the boat, put the men with the rope on the succeeding pile of rocks. We found this passage much worse than the previous one, and our position was rather a bad one. To go back, was impossible ; before us, the cataract was a sheet of foam ; and shut up in the chasm by the rocks, which, in some places, seemed almost to meet overhead, the roar of the water was' deafening. We pushed off again ; but, after making a little distance, the force of the current became too great for the men on shore, and two of them let go the rope. Lajeunesse, the third man, hung on, and was jerked headforemost-into the river from a rock about twelve feet high ; and down the boat shot like an arrow, Basil following us in the rapid current, and exerting all his strength to keep in mid channel — his head only seen occasionally like a black spot in the white N foam. How far we went, I do not exactly know ; but we succeeded in turn- ing the boat into an eddy below “ ’ Cre Dieu ,” said Bash Lajeunesse, as he arrived immediately after us, u Je crois bien que j\ii nag£ an demi mile He had owed his life to his skill as a swimmer; and I determined to take 75 [ 174 ] him and the two others on board, and trust to skill and fortune to reach the other end in safety. We placed ourselves on our knees, with the short paddies in our hands, the most skilful boatman being at the bow; and again we commenced our rapid descent. We cleared rock after rock, and shot past fall after fall, our little boat seeming to play with the cataract. We became flushed with success, and familiar with the danger ; and, yield- ing to the excitement of the occasion, broke forth together into a Canadian boat song. Singing, or rather shouting, we dashed along; and were, I believe, in the midst of the chorus, when the boat struck a concealed rock immediately at the foot of a fall, which whirled her over in an instant. Three of my men could not swim, and my first feeling was to assist them, and save some of our effects; but a sharp concussion or two convinced me that I had not yet saved myself. A few strokes brought me into an eddy, and I lauded on a pile of rocks on the left side. Looking around, I saw that Mr. Preuss had gained the shore on the same side, about twenty yards below ; aud a little climbing and swimming soon brought him to my side. On the opposite side, against the wall, lay the boat bottom up ; and Lambert 'was in the act of saving Descoteau^’ whom he had grasped by the hair, and who could not swim : “Lachepas” said he, as I afterward learned, u lache pas, cher frkre.” “Crains pas” was the reply, u Je rrden vais mourir avant quc de te lacher.” Such was the reply of courage and generosity in this danger. For a hundred yards below, the current was cov- ered with floating books and boxes, bales of blankets, and scattered articles of clothing; and so strong and boiling was the stream, that even our heavy instruments, which were all in cases, kept on the surface, and the sextant, circle, and the long black box of the telescope, were in view at once. For a moment, I felt somewhat disheartened. All our books — almost every record of the journey — our journals and registers of astronomic^ and bar- ometrical observations — had been lost in a moment. But it was no time to indulge in regrets; and I immediately set about endeavoring to save some- thing from the wreck. Making ourselves understood as well as possible by signs, (for nothing could be heard in the roar of waters,) we commenced our operations. Of every thing on board, the only article that had been saved was my double barrelled gun, which Descoteaux had caught, and clung to withdrowning tenacity. The men continued down the river on the left bank, Mr. Preuss and myself descended on the side we were on; and Lajeunesse, with a paddle in his hand, jumped on the boat alone, and continued down the canon. She was now light, and cleared every bad place with much less difficulty. In a short time, he was joined by Lambert ; and the search was continued for about a mile and a half, which was as far as the boat could proceed in the pass. Here the walls were about five hundred feet high, and the fragmentsof rocks from above had choked the riverinto a hollow pass, but one or two feet above the surface. Through this and the interstices of the rock, the wa- ter found its way. Favored beyond our expectations, all of our registers had been recovered, with the exception of one of my journals, which contained the notes and incidents of travel, and topographical descriptions, a number of scattered astronomical observations, principally meridian altitudes of the sun, and our barometrical register west of Laramie. . Fortunately, our other journals contained duplicates of the most important barometrical observa- tions which had bpen taken in the mountains. These, with a few scattered notes, were all that had .been preserved of our meteorological observations. 76 [ 174 ] In addition to these, we saved the circle ; and these, with a few blankets constituted every thing that had been rescued from the waters. ’ The day was running rapidly away, and it was necessary to reach Goat island, whither the party had preceded us, before night. In this uncertain country, the traveller is so muc'h in the power of chance, that we became ** neas y 111 regard to them. Should any thing have occurred, in the buef interval of our separation, to prevent our rejoining them, our situ- ation would be rather a desperate one. We had not a morsel of provisions- our arms and ammunition were gone — and we were entirely at the mercv w “aT stra Sg lln g- I ,art y of savages, and not a little in danger of starvation. YVe therefore set out at once in two parties. Mr. Preuss and myself on the ten, and the men on the opposite side of the river. Climbing out of the canon, we found ourselves in a very broken country, where we were not yet able to recognise any locality. In the course of our descent thron°-h the canon, the rock, which at the upper end was of the decomposing granite changed into a varied sandstone formation. The hills and points of the ridges were covered with fragments of a yellow sandstone, of which the strata were sometimes displayed in the broken ravines which interrupted our course, and made our walk extremely fatiguing. At one point of the canon the red argillaceous sandstone rose in a wall of five hundred feet surmounted by a stratum of white sandstone ; and in an opposite ravine a fiftv feet°hiJh d S Th S ‘ 0ne f ° Se ’ 1,1 f °™ lik< ; a stee P le > about one hundred and K rX T he scenery was extremely picturesque, and.notwithstand- Onr nr« f condition, we were frequently obliged to stop and admire it naked .IT® WaS " 0t Very , rar>ld - „ We had emerged from the water half naked, and, on arriving at the top of the precipice, I found mvself with onlv one moccasin. The fragments of rock made walking painf”! andfwas quently obliged to stop and pull out the thorns of the cactus, here thepre- mv feft P a Fmm a f ® W rainutes ’ walk co ™red the bottom of ny leet. From this ridge the river emerged into a smiling prairie and de spending to the bank for water, we were “joined by Benoit. Tto rest Of the party were out of sight, having taken a more inland route. We crossed clhnbJd er nv epe d' 3d| y- som r etimes able ford it, and sometimes swimming- climbed over the ridges of two more canons, and towards eveninc reached n iX’ it , We P ° re na r dthe H0t S P ri "§ S ate - On our previous vis J in Jul}, we had not entered this pass, reserving it for our descent in thp feer 5 ^"d When W T T ent ^ ed k this eveni ng, Mr. Preuss was a few hundred fine h M dVanCe ' H e ate d witli the long march, he came suddenly upon a fine bold spring gushing from the rock, about ten feet above lire river ,fnlml.r nJOyt 'i?r C 7 St r a water ’, he himself down for a hasty draught! no^ wL a i m 1 U h hf ;7, Water a, ”°f boUil1 ? hot - He said nothing to Be- notst, who laid himself down to drink ; but the steam from the water arrest- ed his eagerness, and he escaped the hot draught. We had no thermometer to ascertain the temperature, but I could hold my hand in the water iust lon<* enough to count two seconds. There are eight or ten of thele spring! dil charging themselves by streams large enough to be called runs. A lold’hol- folTnf 1! Se W 1 S he m! d fr ° m tbe rock ’ which 1 su PPOsed to be produced by the fall of the water. 1 he strata immediately where they issue is a fine whiteand fnlThf« 0 Th SandStOI J e ’ C 7T d With an illcr ustation of common salt. Leav- tng this rhermopyla; of the west, in a short walk we reached the red ridge which has been described as lying just above Goat Island. Ascending thfs we found some fresh tracks and a button, which showed that the othe? men 77 [ 174 ] had already arrived. A shout from the man who first reached the top of the ridge, responded to from below, informed us that our friends were all on the island ; and we were soon among them. We found some pieces of buffalo standing around the fire for us, and managed to get some dry clothes among the people. A sudden storm of rain drove us into the best shelter we could find, where we slept soundly, after one of the most fatiguing days I have ever experienced. * August 25. — Early this morning Lajeunesse was sent to the wreck for the articles which had been saved, and about noon we left the island. The mare which we had left here in July had much improved in condition, and she served us well again for some time, but was finally abandoned at a subsequent part of the journey. At 10 in the morning of the 26th we reached Cache camp, where we found every thing undisturbed. We disin- terred our deposite, arranged our carts which had been left here on the way out, and, travelling a few miles in the afternoon, encamped for the night at the ford of the Platte. August 27 . — At midday we hailed at the place where we had taken din- ner on the 27th of July. The country which, when we passed up, looked as if the hard winter frosts had passed over it, had now assumed a new face, so much of vernal freshness had been given to it by the late rains. The Platte was exceedingly low — a mere line of water among the sand- bars. We reached Laramie fort on the last day of August, after an ab- sence of forty-two days, and had the pleasure to find our friends all well. The fortieth day had been fixed for our return ; and the quick eyes of the Indians, who were on the lookout for us, discovered our flag as we wound among the hills. The fort saluted us with repeated discharges of its single piece, which we returned with scattered volleys of our small arms, and felt the joy of a home reception in getting back to this remote station, which seemed so far off as we went out. On the morning of the 3d of September we bade adieu to our kind friends at the fort, and continued our homeward journey down the Platte, which was glorious with the autumnal splendor of innumerable flowers in full and brilliant bloom. On the warm sands, among the helianthi , one of the characteristic plants, we saw great numbers of rattlesnakes, of which five or six were killed in the morning’s ride. We occupied ourselves in im- proving our previous survey of the river ; and, as the weather was fine, astronomical observations were generally made at night and at noon. We halted for a short time on the afternoon of the 5th with a village of Sioux Indians, some of whose chiefs we had met at Laramie. The water in the Platte was extremely low ; in many places, the large expanse of sands, with some occasional stunted trees on the banks, gave it the air of the seacoast; the bed of the river being merely a succession of sandbars, among which the channel was divided into rivulets a few inches deep. We crossed and recrossed with our carts repeatedly and at our pleasure ; and, whenever an obstruction barred our way, in the shape of precipitous bluffs that came down upon the river, we turned directly into it, and made our way along the sandy bed, with no other inconvenience than the fre- quent quicksands,, which greatly fatigued our animals. Disinterring on the way the cache which had been made by our party when they ascended the river, we reached without accident, on the evening of the 12th of Septem- ber, our old encampment of the 2d of July, at the junction of the forks. Our cache of the barrel of pork was found undisturbed, and proved a sea* sonable addition to our stock of provisions. At this place I had determined to make another attempt to descend the Piatte by water, and accordingly j spent two days in the construction of a bull boat. Men were sent out on the evening of our arrival, the necessary number of bulls killed, and their skins brought to the camp. Four of the best of them were strongly sewed together with buffalo sinew, and stretched over a basket frame of willow. 1 The seams were then covered with ashes and tallow, and the boat left ex- posed to the sun for the greater part of one day, which was sufficient to dry and contract the skin, and make the whole work solid and strong. It had a rounded bow, was eight feet long and five broad, and drew with four men about four inches water. On the morning of the 15th we em- barked in our hide boat, Mr. Preuss and myself, with two men. We dragged her over the sands for three or four miles, and then left her on a bar, and abandoned entirely all further attempts to navigate this river. The names given by the Indians are always remarkably appropriate; and cer- tainly none was ever more so than that which they have given to this stream — “the Nebraska, or Shallow river.” Walking steadily the remain- der of the day, a little before dark we overtook our people at their even- ing camp, about twenty-one miles below the junction. The next morning we crossed the Platte, and continued our way down the river bottom on the left bank, where we found an excellent plainly beaten road. On the 18th we reached Grand island, which is fifty-two miles long, with an average breadth of one mile and three-quarters. It has on it some small eminences, and is sufficiently elevated to be secure from the annual floods of the river. As has been already remarked, it is well timbered, with an excellent soil, and recommends itself to notice as the best point for a mili- tary position on the Lower Piatte. On the 22d we arrived at the village of the Grand Pawnees, on the right bank of the river, about thirty miles above the mouth of the Loup fork. They were gathering in their corn, and we obtained from them a very wel- come supply of vegetables. The morning of the 24th we reached the Loup fork of the Platte. At the place where we forded it, this stream was lour hundred and thirty yards broad, with a swift current of clear water ; in this respect, differing from the Platte, which has a yellow muddy color, derived from the lime- stone. and marl formation, of which we have previously spoken. The ford was difficult, as the water was so deep that it came into the body of the carts, and we reached the opposite bank after repeated attempts, ascending and descending the bed of the river in order to avail ourselves of the bars. We encamped on the left bank of the fork, in the point of land at its junc- tion with the Platte. During the two days that we remained here for astronomical observations, the bad weather permitted us to obtain but one good observation for the latitude — a meridian altitude of the sun, which gave for the latitude of the mouth of the Loup fork, 41° 22 ' 11". Five or six days previously, I had sent forward C. Lambert, with two men, to Bellevue, with directions to ask from Mr. P. Sarpy the gentleman in charge of the American Company’s establishment at that place, the aid of his carpen- ters in constructing a boat, in which I proposed to descend the Missouri. On the afternoon of the 27th we met one of the men, who had been despatched by Mr. Sarpy with a welcome supply of provisions and a very kind note, which gave us the very gratifying intelligence that our boat was in rapid! progress. On the evening of the 30th we encamped hi an almost impene- 79 [ 174 ] trable undergrowth on the left bank of the Platte, in the point of land at its confluence with the Missouri — three hundred and fifteen miles, according to our reckoning, from the junction of the forks, and five hundred and twenty from Fort Laramie. From the junction we had found the bed of the Platte occupied with nu- merous islands, many of them very large, and all well timbered ; possess- ing, as well as the bottom lands of the river, a very excellent soil. With the exception of some scattered groves on the banks, the bottoms are gen- erally without timber, A portion of these consist of low grounds, covered with a profusion of fine grasses, and are probably inundated in the spring; the remaining part is high river prairie, entirely beyond the influence of the floods. The breadth of the river is usually three-quarters of a mile, except where it is enlarged by islands. That poriion of its course which is occupied by Grand island has an average breadth, from shore to shore, of two and a half miles. The breadth of the valley, with the various ac- cidents of ground — springs, timber, and whatever I have thought interest- ing to travellers and settlers — you will find indicated on the larger map which accompanies this report. October 3. — I rose this morning long before daylight, and heard with a feeling of pleasure the tinkling of cow bells at the settlements on the op- posite side of the Missouri. Early in the day we reached Mr. Sarpy’s residence; and, in the security and comfort of his hospitable mansion, felt the pleasure of being again within the pale of civilization. We found our boat on the stocks ; a few days sufficed to complete her ; and, in the af- ternoon of the 4th, we embarked on the Missouri. All our equipage — > horses, carts, and the materiel of the camp — had been sold at public auc- tion at Bellevue. The strength of my party enabled me to man the boat with ten oars, relieved every hour; and we descended rapidly. Early on the morning of the 10th, we halted to make some astronomical observa- tions at the mouth of the Kansas, exactly four months since we had left the trading post of Mr. Cyprian Chouteau, on the same river, ten miles above. On our descent to this place, we had employed ourselves in sur- veying and sketching the Missouri, making astronomical observations reg- ularly at night and at midday, whenever the weather permitted. These operations on the river were continued until our arrival at the city of St. Louis, Missouri, on the 17th; and will be found, unbodied with other re- sults, on the map and in the appendices which accompany this report. At St. Louis, the sale of our remaining effects was m ide; and, leaving that city by steamboat on the 1 Sth , I had the honor to report to you at the city of Washington on the 29th of October. Very respectfully, sir, your obedient servant, J. C. FREMONT, 2d Lieut, Corps of Topographical Engineers . % ' * . ■ . > N - . ■ « • • ■ CATALOGUE OF PLANTS COLLECTED BY LIEUTENANT FREMONT, IN HIS EXPEDITION TO THE EOCKY MOUNTAINS. BY JOHN TORREY. # PREFACE The collection of plants submitted to me for examination, though made under unfavorable circumstances, is a very interesting contribution to North American botany. From the mouth of the Kansas river to the “ Red Buttes, ” on the North fork of the Platte, the transportation was effected in carts ; but from that place to and from the mountains, the explorations were made on horseback, and by such rapid movements, (which were necessary, in order to accomplish the objects of tile expedition,) that but little opportunity was afforded for collecting and drying botanical speci- mens. Besides, the party was in a savage and inhospitable country, sometimes annoyed by Indians, and frequently in great distress from want of provisions ; from which circumstances, and the many pressing, duties that constantly engaged the attention of the commander, he was not able to make so large a collection as he desired. To give some general idea of the country explored by Lieutenant Frempnt, I recapitulate, from his report, a brief sketch of his route. The expedition left the mouth of the Kansas on the 10th of June, 1842, and, proceeding up that river about one hundred miles, then continued ‘its course generally along the “ bottoms” of the Kansas tributaries, but sometimes passing over the upper prairies. The soil of the river bottoms is always rich, and generally well timbered ? though the whole region is what is called a prairie country. The upper prairies are an immense deposite of sand and gravel, covered with* a good, and, very generally, a rich soil. Along the road, on reaching the little stream called Sandy creek, (a tributary of the Kansas,) the soil became more sandy. The rock formations of this region are limestone and sandstone. The amqrphq canescens was the characteristic plant ; it being in many places as abundant as the grass. Crossing over fronj the waters of the Kansas, Lieutenant Fremont arrived at the Great Platte, two hundred and ten miles from its junction with the Missouri. The valley of this river, from its mouth to the great forks, is about four miles broad, and three hundred and fifteen miles long. It is rich, well timbered, and covered with luxuriant grasses. The purple liatris scariosa , and several asters , were here conspicuous features of the vegetation. I was pleased to recognise, among the specimens collected near the forks, the fiii| , large-flowered asclepias, that I described many years ago in my account of James’s Rocky Mountain Plants, under the name of A. speciosa, and which Mr. Geycr also found in Nicollet’s expedition. It seems to be the plant subsequently described and figured by Sir W. Hooker, tinder the name of A. Douglasii. On the Lower Platte, and all the way to the Sweet Water, the showy cleome iniegrifolia occurred in abundance. From the Forks to Laramie river, a distance of about two hundred miles, the country may be called a sandy one. The valley of the North fork is without timber ; but the grasses are fine, «nd the herbaceous plants abundant. On the return of the expedition in September, Lieutenant Fremont says the whole country resembled, a vast garden 5 but the prevailing plants were two or three species of helianthus , (sunflower.) Between the main forks of the Platte, from the junction, as high up as Laramie’s fork, the formation consisted of marl, a soft earthy limestone, and a granite sandstone. At the latter place, that singular leguminous plant, the kentrophyta raontana of Nuttall was first seen, and then occurred at intervals to the Sweet Water river. Following up the North fork, Lieutenant Fremont arrived at the mouth of the Sweet Water river, one of the head waters of the Platte. Above Laramie’s fork to this place, the soil is generally sandy. The rocks consist of limestone, I with a variety of sandstones, (yellow, gray, and red argillaceous,) with compact gypsum or alabas- ter, and fine conglomerates. 84 [ 174 ] The route along the North fork of the Platte afforded some of the best plants in the collection. The senecio rapi folia, Nutt., occurred in many places, quite to the Sweet Water ; lippia ( zapania ) cuneifolia (Torr. in James’s plants, only known before from Dr. James’s collection ;) ctr cocarp us par- vifolius , Nutt. ; eriogonum parvifulium, and coespitosum , Nutt.; shepherdia argentca, Nutt., and geranium Fremontii , a new species, (near the Red Buttes,) were found in this part of the journey. In saline soils, on the Upper Platte, near the mouth of the Sweet Water, were collected several interesting Chenofodiace®, One of which was first discovered by Dr. James, in Long’s expedition ; and although it was considered as a new genus, I did not describe it, owing to the want of the ripe fruit. It is the plant doubtfully referred by Hooker, in his Flora Boreali Americana, to Batis He had seen the male flowers only. As it is certainly a new genus, I have dedicated it to the excellent commander of the expedition, as a well-merited compliment for the services he has rendered North American botany. The Sweet Water valley is a sandy plain, about one hundred and twenty miles long, and gen- erally abput five miles broad ; bounded by ranges of granitic mountains, between which the valley formation consists, near the Devil’s gate, of ^ grayish micaceous sandstone, with marl and white clay. At the encampment of August 5th- 6th, there occurred h fine white argillaceous sandstone, a coarse sandstone or pudding-stone, and a white calcareous sandstone. A few miles to the west of that position. Lieutenant Fremont reached a point where the sandstone rested immediately upon the granite, which, thenceforward, along his line of route, alternated with a compact mica slate. Along the Sweet Water, many interesting plants were collected, as may be seen by an examina- tion of the catalogue ; I would, however, mention the curious cenothera Nuttallii , Torr. and Gr. ; eurotiu lunata, Mocq. ; (Diotis lanata, Pursh ,) which seems to be distinct from E. ceratoides ; thermopsis montana, Nutt. ; gilia pulchella, Dougl. ; senecio spartioides, Torr. and Gr. ; a new species, and four or five species of wild currants, ( [ribes irriguum, Dougl., &c ) Near the mouth of the Sweet Water was found the plantago eriophora , Torr., a species first described in my Dr. James’s Rocky Mountain Plants. On the upper part, and near the dividing ridge, were collected several species of castilleja penistemon micrautha, Nutt.; several gentians the pretty little androsace occidentals, Nutt. ; solidago incana, Torr, and Gr. ; and two species of eriogonum , one of which was new. On the 8th of August, the exploring party crossed the dividing ridge or pass* and found the soil of the plains at the foot of the mountains, on the western side, to be sandy. From Laramie’s fork to this point, different species of artemisia were the prevailing and characteristic plants ; occupying the place of the grasses, and filling the air with the odor of camphor and turpentine. Along Little Sandy, a tributary of the Colorado of the West, were collected a new species o f'pkaca ( P. digi- iata, ) and parnassia Jinibriata. • On the morning of the 10th of August, they entered the defiles of the Wind river mountains, a spur of the Rocky mountains, or northern Andes, and among which they spent about eight days. On the borders of a lake, embosomed in one of the defiles, were collected sedum rhodiola , DC., (which had been found before, south of Kotzebue’s sound, only by Dr. James ;) senecio hydrophi- lus, Nutt: ; Vaccinium uliginosum ; beiula glandulosa, and B. accident alls, Hook.; eleagnus argentea , and shepherdia Canadensis. Some of the higher peaks of the Wind river mountains rise one thousand feet above the limits of perpetual snow. Lieutenant Fremont, attended by four of his men, ascended one of the loftiest peaks on the 15th of August. On this he found the snow line twelve thousand five hundred feet above the level of the sea. The vegetation of the mountains is truly alpine, embracing a considerable number of species common to both hemispheres, as well as some that are peculiar to North America. Of the former, Lieutenant Fremont collected pleura alpinutn ; oxyriareniformis ; Veronica alpina ; several species of salix ; carexatrata ; C. panicea,* and, immediately below the line of perpetual congelation, silent acaulis, and polemonium ceeruleum , /? Hook Among the alpine plants peculiar to the western hemisphere, there were found oreophila myrtifolia, Nutt. ; aquihgia coerulea , Torr. ; pedicu/aris surrccta, Benth. ; pulmonaria ciliaia, James ; silene Brummondii, Hook. ; menziesia empetriformis, potentilla gracilis , Dougl. ; sev« 85 [ 174 ] eral species oipinus; frasera speciosa , Hook. ; dodecatheon den latum , ITook. ^ phlox muscoides , Nutt. ; senecio Fremontii , n. sp., Torr. and Gr. ; four or five asters, and vaccinium myrtilloides , Mx. ; the last seven or eight very near the snow line. Lower down the mountain were found arnica angustifolia , Vahl. ; senecio triangularis. Hook. • S. subnudus, DC. ; macrorhynchus troximoides , Torr. and Gr. ; helianthella uni/loray Torr. and Gr. ; and linosyris viscidijlora. Hook. The expedition left the Wind river mountains about the 18th of August, returning by the same route as that by which it ascended, except that it continued its course through the whole length of the Lower Platte, arriving at its junction with the Missouri on the 1st of October. As the plants of Lieutenant Fremont were under examination while the last part of the Flora of Nt>rth America was in the press, nearly all the new matter relating to the Composite was inserted in that work. Descriptions of a few of the new species were necessarily omitted, owing to the report of the expedition having been called for by Congress before I could finish the necessary analyses and comparisons. These, however, will be inserted in the successive numbers of the. work to which I have just alluded. JOHN TORREY. New Yohk, March , 1843. #* "> • “! > ***< ' ' • v;' ' l ■; '■ i»ir v *••?> tlpHF . • . ■ ; '■ '■ L. ■■ • >'?" ' '’>• ' * • - - i " '' , " ■ ' ' ■ V: . ’-V. • . • ■ v v< »c >- • y i i ! : '■ \ < V - • - ■ • ; j - ; ; r y '* ' y / y i'.’i f " ■ ' ' ■ ' ' ’ • " . ‘ni . ■ i ■: : U'r Vy ’>■ - •V * * * v • - • • . . .'V- • # : . \ ' • v-. ' - : .-V; • V ^ - y, ... ^ ’ * . \;f y : -y .■ . , -A : •? ■ '• •*: - V- > ■ . « • ty- . r-\ \ '*•* ;'.ri ■ ri ■ . f . * ■ . • V : *<4 . A, ■ ■ ", • ' a ■ X \ — CATALOGUE OF PLANTS. Class I.— EXOGENOUS PLANTS. RAlJUN C UL ACE^E . Clematis Virginiana, (Linn.) Valley of the Platte. June, July. Ranunculus sceleratus , (Linn.) Valley of the Sweet Water river. August 18-20. cymbalaria , (Pursh.) Upper Platte. July 31, August. Aquilegia coerulea, (Torr. ) Wind river mountains* August 13-16. Act cea rubra, ( Bigel.) Upper Platte. August 26-31. Thalictrum Comuti , (Linn.) Platte. T % megacarpym , n. sp. Upper Platte. August 26-31. MENISPERM ACEJ3 . Menispermum Canadense , (Linn.) Leaves only. On the Platte. BERBERIDACE^E. Berberis aquifolium, (Torr. and Gr.) Wind river mountains. August 13-16. PAPAVERACE.E. Argemone Mexicana (3 albijlora , (DC.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. CRUCIFER.E. Nasturtium palustre, (DC.) Black hills of the Platte. July 26, August. Erysimum cheiranthoides, (Linn.) Black hills. July 23. E. asperum, (Nutt.) South fork of the Platte. July 4. Pachypodium, ( Thely podium, Endl. Gen. p. 876,) integrifolium , (Nutt.) North fork of the Platte. September 4. Var. with longer pods. With the preceding. Vesicaria didymocarpa , (Hook.) Leaves only. North fork of the Platte, above the Red Buttes. July 30. Braya, n. sp. Wind river mountains, near the limits of perpetual snow. August 15. Lepidium ruderale, (Linn.) On the Platte. June 29. CAPPARIDACEiE. Cleomp integrifolia, (Torr. and Gr.) From the Lower Platte nearly to the mountains. June 29, July 2, August 21. Polanisia trachysperma , /? (Torr. and Gr.) Black hills of the Platte. July 23. POLYGALACE.E. Poly gala alba, (Nutt.) P. Beyrichii, (Torr. and Gr.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. DROSERACEJ3. Pamassiajimbriata, (Banks.) Little Sandy creek, defiles of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 8. CARYOPHYLLACEjE. Arenavia congesta , (Nutt.) Highest parts of the Wind river mountains. August 13-16. Silene Drummondii, (Hook.) With the preceding. 5. acaulis, (Linn.) Wind river mountains, at the limits of perpetual snow. [ 174 ] 88 . PORTULACACE.E. *Talinum parviflorum, (Nutt.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 26 LINACE.E. * Linum rigidum, (Pursh.) North fork of the Platte. July 8. L. pertnne, (Linn.) Black hills to the Sweet Water of the Platte. August 2-31, GERANIACEiE. Geranium Fremontii , n. sp. Black hills. August 26-31. OXALIDACEJ3. Oxalis strict a y (Linn.) On the Kansas. June. * • ANACARDIACE-E. Mhus trilobata, (Nutt.) Red Buttes. July 29. MA*LVACE/E. Malva pedata, (Torr. and Gr.) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 21. M. involucrata, (Torr. and Gr ) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 23. Sida coccinea , (DC.) Little Blue river to the south fork of the Platte. June 22, July 4. VITACEJE. Yttis riparia y (Michx.) Grand island of the Platte. September 19. ACERACEiE. Negundo aceroides, (Mcench. ) On the lower part of the Platte. CELASTRACEiE. Oreophila my rti folia, (Nutt.) Summit of the Wind river mountains. August 13-14. RHAMNACEJ3. Ceanothus velutinus, (Dougl.) With the preceding. C. Americanus, var. sanguineus. C. sanguineus, (Pursh.) On the Platte. C. mollissimus , n. sp. Near the Kansas river. June 19. LEGUMINOS^E. Lathyrus linearis , (Nutt.) On the Platte, from its confluence with the Missouri to Fort Laramie. September 2-30. Amphicarpoea monoica, (Torr. and Gr.) North fork of the Platte. September 4. Apios tuberosa, (Mcench. ) Forks of the Platte. September 1 3. Glycyrhiza lepidota, (Pursh.) From near the Kansas river to the Black hills of the Platte. June 21, July 25. Tsoralea Jloribunda , (Nutt.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. P. campestris , (Nutt. ?) and a more glabrous variety. With the preceding. July 2. P. lanceolata , (Pursh.) Black hills of the Platte. July 24. P. argophylla s (Pursh.) Little Blue river. June 23. P. tenuijiora y (Pursh.) (no flowers.) Forks of the Platte. September 12. Petalostemon violaceum , (Michx.) Big Blue river of the Kansas, &c. June 21. P. candidurn , (Michx.) Red Buttes. July 29. Amorpha fruticosa, (Linn.) From the Lower Platte to the mountains. August 8, September 19* A. canescensy (Nutt.) Kansas and Lower Platte rivers. June 19, September 20. Lespedeza capitata , (Michx. ) Mouth of the Platte. September 30. JDesm odium acuminatum, (DC.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22. 89 C 174 3 Astragalus gracilis, (Nutt.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. A. moll ssirnus, (Torr.) Valley of the Platte. June 29. A. hypoglotlis, (Linn.) Sweet Water of the Platte. August 5. Oxytropis Lambertii , (Pursh.) Big Blue river of the Kansas to the forks of the Platte. June 20, July 2. O. Plattensis, (Nutt ? ) (no flowers.) Goat island of the Upper Platte. July 31. Phaca astragulina, (DC.) Highest summits of the Wind river mountain. August 15. P. elegans, (Hook.) var. ? Goat island of the Upper Platte. July 31. P. ( Orophuca ) digiluta, n. sp. Little Sandy river. August 8. P. longifolia , (Nutt.) (leaves only.) Wind river mountains. August 12-17. Kentrophyta mo"tana, (Nutt.) Laramie river to the Sweet Water. July 14, August 5. Lup nus leucophyllus, (Lindl.) Wind river mountains, and Sweet Water of the Platte. August 4-21. .narda Jidulosn , (Linn.) On the Platte. lucrium Canadense , (Linn.) With the preceding. ycnpus sinuutus, (Ell.) With the preceding. achys aspera, (Michx. ) Forks of the Platte. July 2. Htellarin golericuluta, (Linn.) North of the Platte. July 10. entha Canadensis , (Linn.) With the preceding. dvia azurea , (Lam.) Kansas river and forks of the Platte. June 19-29, July 2. ijgjjt VERBENACE.E. ppia cuneifolia, Zapania cuneifolia, (Torr., in Ann. Lyc. Nat. Hist. N. York, ii, page 234.) North fork of the Platte. July 12. ?rbena siricta , (Vent ) With the preceding. . hastatu, (Linn.) With the preceding. . bracteata, (Michx.) With the. preceding. BORAGINACEiE. uhnonaria ciliata , (James; Torr. in Ann. Lyc. N. York, ii, page 224.) Defiles in the Wind river mountains. August 13-15. * nusmodium rnulle, (Michx.) On the Platte. June 29. atschia Gntelmi , (Michx ) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22, r .yi>sotis glomerata, (Nutt. ) Forks of the Platte. July 2. HYDROPHYLLACE.E. '"toca sericea, (Lehm.) Wind river mountains. hacelia leucophytla , n. sp. Whole plant strigosely canescent; leaves elliptical, petiolate entire, racemes numerous, scorpioid, densely flowered. — Goat island, upper North fork of the Platte. July 30. Perennial. — Stems branching from the base. Leaves about two inches long, and 6 to 8 lines wide; radical and lower cauline ones on long petioles; the others nearly sessile. Spikes forming a terminal crowded sort of panicle. Flowers sessile, about 3 lines long. Sepals strongly hispid. Corolla one-third longer than the calyx; the lobes short and entire. Stamens much exsertcd; filaments glabrous. Style 2 parted to the middle, the lower part hairy. Ovary hispid, incompletely 2-celled, with 2 ovules in each cell. Capsule, by abortion, one-seeded* seed oblong, strongly punctate. J Nearly related to P. integrifolia, (Torr ;) but differs in the leaves being perfectly entire, the more numerous spikes, one-seeded capsules, as well as in the whitish strigose pubescence of the whole plant. POLEMONIACE^E. 3 blox muscoides, (Nutt.) Immediately below the region of perpetual snow, on the Wind liver mountains. . August 15. Hoodiiy (Richards.) North fork of the Platte. July 8. 0 . pilosa, (Nutt.) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 20. Polemonium cceruleum , (Linn., Hook.) Red Buttes on the Upper North fork of the, Platte, (3 hu~. mile y (Hook.) Highest parts of the mountains, near perpetual snow. August 13-15. Gilia (Canttia) longiflora , (Torr.) Sand hills of the Platte. September 16. G. pulchella, (Dough) Upper part of the Sweet Water, near the mountains. August 7-20. G. inconspicua, (Dough?) Goat island, Upper North fork of the Platte. July 30. This differs., from the Oregon plant in its fleshy, simply pinnatified leaves, with ovate, obtuse segments. CONVOLVULACE^, C alystegia sepium y (R. Br.) Forks of the Platte- July 2. Ipomcea leptophylla, n. sp. Stems branching from the base, prostrate, glabrous, angular; leaves lanceolate-linear, very acute, entire, attenuate at the base into a petiole; peduncles 1 to 3-flow- ered; sepals roundish-ovate, obtuse with a minute mucro. — Forks of the Platte to Laramie 1 river. July 4-September 3. Imperfect specimens ofjhis plAit were collected about the sources of the Canadian, by Dr. James, in Long’s expedition; but they, were not described in my account, of his plants. The root, according to Dr. James, is annual, producing numerous, thick pros- trate, but not twining stems, which are two feet or more in length. The leaves are from two to four inches long, acute at each end, strongly veined apd somewhat . coriaceous. Peduncles an inch or more in length; those towards the extremity of the branches only 1 -flowered; the lower ones bearing 2, 3, and sometimes 4 flowers, which are nearly the size of those of calys-- tegia sepium, and of a purplish color. Sepals appressed, about five lines long. Corolla cam- pa^feftate — funnel form, the tube much longer than the calyx. Stamens inserted near the "base of the corolla; filaments villous at the base; anthers oblong-linear, large. Style as long as the stamen^; stigma 2-lobed; the lobes capitate. Ovary 2-celled, with two ovules in each cell. SOLANACEzE. Nyctcrium luteuni , (Donncat.) South fork of the Platte. July 4. Physalis pubescent, (Willd.) Upper North fork of the Platte. July 23. P. pumila, (Nutt.) With the preceding. GENTIANACE^E. Gcntiana ardophila (3 demijlora , (Gjiseb. ? in Hook. FI. Bor. Am. ii, page 61.) Sweet Water of the Platte. August 4. f aj/inis , (Griscb. ) North fork of the Platte. September 9. pneumonanthe , (Linn.) Laramie river to Little Sandy creek, in the mountains. July 12— August 8. G. Fremontii , n. sp. Stem branched at the base; branches 1 -flowered; leaves ovate, cuspidate, cartilaginous on the margin, erect; corolla funnel-form; plicae small, slight y 2-toothed; cap-, sple .ovjafp,. . at. leijgtjji entirely exserted on its thick stipe. — Wind river mountains. — Annual. Branchy seyertjJ, 2, tp 3 inqpes long, or nearly, equal, length- Leaves about three lines long, with a strong wluiti^k, cartilaginous border, shorter than the internodes. Flowers as large as those of G, prostrate/.,. ppatamerous, Calyx two-thirds the length of the corolla; the teeth about one- third the length of’ the tube. Plicse of the corolla scarcely one-third as long as the lanceolate Jokes*. Stameri^ inqlqde^,; .anfheps oblong, somewhat cordate at the base. Capsule in matu- rity, and alter dehiscence, (in which state all our specimens were collected,) exserted quite be- yond ..the corolla, and, wijth its , long stipe, resembling a style, with, a large bilamellate stigma. Npqp jo£, the capsules contained, any seeds. This species is nearly related to G. prostrate t, (Haenk,) and G.htimtfU, (Stev.,) but the former has spatulate obtuse recurved leaves, and the latter entire plicae, which are nearly the length of the corolla. In G. humilis , and in the allied G. squarrosa, (Ledeb.,) the capsule is exserted after discharging the seeds. Swertia perennis , (3 obtusa, (Hook.) From Laramie river to the Big Buttes. Frascra speciosa , (Hook.) Defiles of the Wind river mountaius. August 13-14. Lmanthus Iiusselianus, (Hook.) Lower Platte to the forks. July-September. 95 C 174 ] AP0CYNACEJ3. Apocynum cunnabinurn, (Ljpn.) On the Platte. ASCLEPIADACEJE. Asclepias speciosa, (Torr, in Ann. Lyc. N. York, ii, p. 218. — A Douglasii, Hook. FI. Bor. Am* ii, p. 53, t. 142.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. Collected also by Mr Nicollet in his North- western expedition. Hooker’s plant differs in no essential characters from my A. spepio^, col- lected by Dr. James in Long’s first expedition. A verticillata, (Linn.) Small variety. With the preceding. A . tubei'osa^ ( Linn. ) Kansas river. Jurte 19. Ananthtrix viridis , (Nntt.) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 20. Acerates longi folia, ( Ell.) Polyotus longifolia. (Nutt.) With the preceding. A. angustfolim. Polyotus angustifolius. (Nutt) With the preceding. OLEACE.E. Fraxinus platycarpa, (Michx. ) Leaves only. Lower Platte. • PLANTAGINACEiE. Plantago eriopoda , (Torr. , in Ann. Lyc. N. Y ork, ii, p. 237. ) Mouth of the Sweet W* ater. July 3 1 «. P. gnaphaloides, (Nutt.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 24. ^ CHENOPODIACE.E. Chenopodium zosterifolium, (Hook,) Platte. ? C. album , (Linn.) North fork of the Platte. July 12. Olioue canescem, (Mocq Chenop., p. 74.) Atriplex canescens. (Nutt.) Upper North fork of’ the Platte. July 26. Cyclo/oma platypliylla, (Mocq,, I. c. p. 18) Kochia dentata, (Willd.) North fork of the Platte. September 4. Sueda maritima, (Mocq., 1. c. p. 127.) With the preceding. Eurotia lanata, (Mocq., 1. c. p. 81.) JDiotis latiaia, (Pursin'") Red Buttes to, the mountains, August 18-25. Fremontia, n. gen. Flowers diclinous, mpneepious and ? dioicous, heterqn>,orphous, Stam. FI. in. terminal aments. Scales eccentrically peltate, on a short stipe, angular, somewhat cuspidate up- ward. Stamens 2, 3, and 4 undereach scale, naked, sessile; anthers oblong. Pist. FI. solitary, axillary. Perigonium closely adhering to the lower half of the ovary, the bofder entire, nearly obsolete, but in fruit enlarging into a broad horizontal angular and undulate wing. Ovary ovate ; styles thick, divaricate ; stigmas linear. Fruit a utricle, the lower two-thirds covered with Jhe iridurated calyx, compressed. Seed vertical ; integument double. Embryo flat-spiral, (2 to 3 turns,) green: radicle inferior; albumen none. F. vermicularis. ( Bati s? vermicular is. Hook.) FI. Bur. Amer. ii, p. 128. Upper North fork of the Platte, near the mouth of the Sweet Water. July 30 ; . A low glabrous, diffusely branched shrub, clothed with a whitish bark. Leaves, alternate, linear, fleshy, and alqip^t seraiterete,, 6 to 12 lines long and 1 to 2 lines wide. Stamina.te aments about three-fourth^ of an, inch, Jopg, cyl- indrical, at first dense, and composed of closely compacted angular scales, covering naked an- thers. Anthers very deciduous. Fertile flowers in the axils of the rameal leaves. Calyx closely adherent, and at first with only an obscure border or limb, but at length forming a wing 3 to 4 lines in diameter, resembling that of Salsola. This remarkable plant, which I dedicate to Lieutenant Fremont, was first collected by Dr. James about the sources of the Canadian, (in. Long’s expedition,) but it was omitted in my account of his plants, published in the Annals of the Lyceum of Natural History. It is undoubtedly the batis? vermicularis of Hooker, (1. c.,) collected on the barren grounds of the Oregon river by the late Mr. Douglas, who- found it with only the staminate flowers. We have it now from a third locality, so that the plant must be [ 174 ] * 96 widely diffused in the barren regions towards the Rocky mountains. It belongs to the sub-order spirulobex of Meyer and Mocquin, but .can hardly be referred to ei|hcr the tribe suacdince or to* i salsolx , differing from both in its diclinous heteiomorphous flowers, and also from the latter in its flat-spiral, not cochleate embryo. NYCTAGINACErE. Oxybaphus nydaginea, (Torr. in James’s Rocky Mountain Plants.) Calymenia nyctaginea, (Nutt.) Kansas river, June 20. Abronia mellifera , (Dougl ) North fork of the Platte, July 7-12. A. ( tripterocalyx ) micranthum , n. sp. Viscid and glamtalarly pubescent; leaves ovate; undulate, obtuse, acute at the base, petiolatc; perianth funnel form, 4- lobed at the summit, 3 to 4 androus; achenium broadly 3-winged. — Near the mouth of Sweet Water river. August 1. Annual. Stem diffusely branched from the base, beginning to flower when only an inch high; the branches of the mature plant above a foot long. Leaves 1 to l £ inoh in length; petioles about as long as the lamina. Headsaxillary. Involucre 5 leaved, 8 to 1 4 -flowered; leaflets ovate, acumi- nate. Perianth colored, (purplish,) 3 to 4 lines long; lobes semi-ovate, obtuse. Stamens inserted in the middle of the tube, unequal; aethers oyate, sagittate at the base. Ovary oblong, clothed with the S winged base of the calyx; style fiiiform; stigma filiform clavate, incurved. Mature achenium about 7 lines long and 4 wide; the wings broad, nearly equM, membranaceous and str®gly reticulated. Seed oblong. Embryo conduplicate, involving the deeply 2-partcd mealy albumen; radicle linear-terete; inner cotyledon abortive! outer one oblong, foliaceous, concave, as long as the radicle. This interes ing plant differs from its congeners in its funnel form pe- rianth, 3 to 4 androus flowers, and broadly 3-winged fruit, but I have not been able to compare it critically with other species of abronia. It may prove to be a distinct genus. POLYGON ACEJE. Polygonum Persicaria, (Linn.) North fork of the Platte. September 4. P. aviculare, (Linn.) With the preceding. P. amphibium, (Linn.) Sweet \j^ater river. August 4. P. viviparum , (Linn.) Black hills. July 26. Rurnex salicifulius, (Weinn.) With the preceding. Qxyria reniformis, (Hill.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. August 13-16. Eriogunum ovali folium, (Nutt.) Horse-shoe creek, Upper North fork of the Platte. July 22. E. coespitosum, (Nutt.) With the preceding. E. umbellatum , (Torr.,) in Ann. Lyc. Nat. Hist. N. York, ii, p. 241. SweetWater river. Aug. 7. E. Fremonlii , n. sp. With the preceding. E. annuum , (Nutt.) North fork of the Platte. September 4. ELEAGNACErE. Skepherdia argentea, (Nutt.) “ Grains de boeuf.” Upper North fork of the Platte, from the Red Buttes to the mouth of tjie Sweet Water. August 21-28. S. Canadensis , (Nutt.) On a lake in the Wind river mountains. August 12-17. Eleagnus argenteus , (Pursh.) With the preceding. EUPHORBIACE.E. Euphorbia marginata, (Pursh.) Forks of the Platte. September 1 1. E. polygonifolia, (Linn.) South fork of the Platte. July 4. E. corollata , (Linn. ) On the Kansas. E. obtusala, (Pursh.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. July 23. Pilinophytumrapitatum , (Klotsch in Wiegem. Arch., April, 1842.) Croton capitatum, (Michx.) Forks of the Platte. Hendecandra? (Esch.,) multiflora , n. sp. ; annual canescent, with stellate pubescence, dioecious; 97 C 1^4 ] stem somewhat diffusely and trichotomously branched; leaves ovate -oblong; petiolate obtuse, entire; staminate flowers on crowded axillary and terminal compound spikes. — Laramie river, North fork of the Platte. September 3 — 11. — About a foot high. Fructiferous plant unknown. With, larger leaves. Forks of the Platte. July 2. This seems to be the same as the plant of Drum- mond’s Texan Collection, III, No. 266. SALICIACEiE. Salix longifolia , (Willd.) On the Platte. 5. Muhlenbergii, (Willd.) With the preceding. Several other species exist in the collection — some from the Platte, others from the mountains; but I have had no time to determine them satisfactorily. Populus tremuloides , (Michx.) Lake in the Wind river mountains. P. dngustifolia , (Torr. in. Ann. Lyc. N. Hist, of New York, ii, p. 249.) Sweet Water river, Aug. 21. , P. monilifera , (Ait.) Lower Platte. ULMACE^E. Ulmus fulva, (Michx.) Lower Platte. Seltis crassifolia, (Nutt.) With the preceding. BETULACEJL Bettila glandulosa, (Michx.-) On a lake in the Wind river mountains. Aug. 12-17. B. occidentalism (Hook.) With the preceding. CONIFERJH. Pinus rigida , (Linn.) Lower Platte. Without cones. Leaves in threes, about 3 inches long. P. undetermined. Defiles of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-14. Between P. strobusand P. Lambertiana. Leaves in 5’s, 1| to 2 inches long, rigid. No cones. P. ( Abies ) alba , (Michx.) With the preceding. P. near balsamea. With the preceding. Leaves only.' Juniperus Virginiana , (Linn.) Lower Platte. ENDOGENOUS PLANTS. ALISMACE.E. Sagittaria sagittifolia, (Linn.) On the Kansas. ORCHIDACE^E. Platanthera leucophcea, (Lindl.) Black hills. July 27. P . hyperborea , (R. Br.) Laramie river to the Red Buttes. Aug. 26-31. Spiranthes cemua, (Rich.) Sweet Water river. Aug. 6. Aplectrum hyemale, (Nutt.) On the Platte. June 29. IRIDACEiE. Sisyrinchium anceps, (Linn.) North fork of the Platte. July 12. Iris Missouriensts, (Nutt., in Jour. Acad. Phil, vii, p. 58.) In fruit. Sweet Water river. Aug. 3* Rhizoma very thick. Leaves narrow, rigid, as long as the scape. Scape nearly naked, 2- flow - ered, terete, 10 inches high. Capsules oblong, obtusely triangular. Flowers not seen. [ 174 ] 98 LILIACE^E. Yucca angustifolia, ( Sims.) Laramie river. July 14. Allium reticulatum, (Fras.) Defiles in the Wind river mountains. Aug. 12-17. •Smilacina stellata , (Desf.) From the Laramie river to the Red Buttes. Aug. 26-31 MELANTHACEJ3J Zigadenus glaucus, (Nutt.) Sweet Water river. Aug. JUNCACEJE. Juncus echinalus, (Muhl.) North fork of the Platte. Sept. 4. COMMELYNACE.E. Tradescantia Virginica , (Linn.,) and a narrow-leaved variety. Kansas and Platte. CYPERACE_'E. Carex fesiucacea, (Schk.) On the Kansas. June. C.aurea, (Nutt.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22. C. panicea , (Linn.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains, near perpetual snow. Aug. 15. C, atrata , (Linn.) With the preceding. GRAMINEJB. Spartina cynosuroides , (Willd.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22. Aristida p aliens, (Pursh.) On the Platte. June 29. Agrostis Michauxiana, (Trin.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 23. Phleum alpinum , (Linn.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-14. Bromus ciliatus , (Ifinn.) On the Platte. June- Aug. Pestuca ovina, (Linn.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-14. Festuca nutans, (Willd.) On the Kansas. Poa laxa , (Haenke.) With the preceding. P. ot'occtia, (Michx.) With the preceding. Spikelets 2-fiowered. P . nervata, (Willd.) On the Kansas. Koeleria cristata, (Pers.) Big Blue river of the Kansas, and on the Platte as high as Laramie river. June 20 — July 22. Deschampsiu coespitosa, (Beauv.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-14. Andropogon scoparius, (Michx.) Lower Platte. A. nutans, (Linn.) Laramie river, North fork of the Platte. Sept. 3-4. Hordeum jubatum, (Ait.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. Elymus Virginicus, (Linn.) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 20. E. Canadensis, (Linn.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22. Beckmannia cruciformis, (Jacq.). North fork of the Platte. July 22. EQUISETACE^E. Equisetum arvense , (Linn.) On a lake in the Wind river mountains. Aug. 12-17. FILICES. Hypopeltis obtusa, (Torr. Compend. Bot. N. States, p. 380, 1826.) Aspidium obtusum, (Willd.) Woodsia Perriniana, (Hook, and Grev. Icon. Fil. I. t. 68.) Physematium (Kaulf.) obtusum» (Hook, FI. Bor. Am. ii, p. 259.) On the Platte. 99 [ H4 ] ASTRONOMICAL OBSERVATIONS. The maps which accompany this report are on Flamsteed’s modified pro- jection, and the longitudes are referred to the meridian of Greenwich. For the determination of astronomical positions, we were provided with the following instruments : One telescope, magnifying power 120. One circle, by Gambey, Paris. One sextant, by Gambey, Paris. One sextant, by Troughton. One box chronometer, No. 7,810, by French. One Brockbank pocket chronometer. One small watch with a light chronometer balance, No. 4,632, by Arnold & Dent. The rate of the chronometer 7,810, is exhibited in the following state- ment : “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"X. “ ARTHUR STEWART, “ 74 Merchants’ Exchange.” An accident among some rough ground in the neighborhood of the Kan- sas river strained the balance of this chronometer, (No. 7,810,) and ren- dered it useless during the remainder of the campaign. From the 9th of June to the 24th of August, inclusively, the longitudes depend upon the Brockbank pocket chronometer ; the rate of which, on leaving St. Louis, was fourteen seconds. The rate obtained by observations at Fort Laramie, 14". 05, has been used in calculation. From the 24th of August until the termination of the journey, No. 4,632 (of which the rate was 35 ".79) was used for the same purposes. The rate of this watch was irregular, and I place but little confidence in the few longitudes which depend upon it, though, so far as we have any means of judging, they appear tolerably correct. [ 174 ] 100 Table of latitudes and longitudes , deduced from observations made during the journey. -T Date. Station. Latitude. 1 Longitude. 1842. Deg. min. sec. Deg. min. sec. May 27 St. Louis, residence of Colonel Brant - 38 37 34 June 8 Chouteau’s lower trading post, Kansas river - 39 05 57 94 25 46 16 Left bank of the Kansas river, seven miles above the ford - _ 39 06 40 95 38 05 18 Vermillion creek - - 39 15 19 96 04 07 19 Cold Springs, near the road to Laramie - 39 30 40 96 14 49 20 Big Blue river - - 39 45 08 96 32 35 25 Little Blue river - - 40 26 50 98 22 12 26 Right bank of Platte river - - 40 41 06 98 45 49 27 Right bank of Platte river - - ' - 40 39 32 99 05 24 28 Right bank of Platte river - - 40 39 51 30 Right bank of Platte river - - 40 39 55 100 05 47 July 2 Junction of North and South forks of the Nebraska or Platte river - - 41 05 05 100 49 43 4 South fork of Platte river, left bank. 6 South fork of Platte river, island - 40 51 17 103 07 7 South fork of Platte river, left bank - - 40 53 26 103 30 37 11 South fork of Platte river, St. Vrain’s fort - - 40 22 35 105 12 12 12 Crow creek .. . 40 41 59 104 57 49 13 On a stream, name unknown -■ 41 08 30 104 39 37 14 Horse creek, Goshen’s hole ? - *■ _ 41 40 13 104 24 36 16 Fort Laramie, near the mouth of Laramie’s fork - 42 12 10 104 47 43 23 North fork of Platte river - _ 42 39 25 104 59 59 24 North fork of Platte river - - - 1 - 42 47 40 25 North fork of Platte river, Dried Meat camp _ 42 51 35 105 50 45 26 North fork of Platte river, noon halt _ 42 50 08 26 North fork of Platte river, mouth of Deer creek _ 42 52 24 106 08 24 28 North fork of Platte river, Cache camp - 42 50 53 106 38 26 29 North fork of Platte river, left bank _ 42 38 01 106 54 32 30 North fork of Platte river, Goat island - 42 33 27 107 13 29 Aug. 1 Sweet Water river, one mile below Rock Independ- ence ----- - 42' 29 56 107 25 23 4 Sw r eet 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 W ater river - - 42 22 22 20 Sweet Water river - - _ 42 31 46 22 Sweet Water river, noon halt . 42 26 10 22 Sweet Water river, at Rock Independence - . 42 29 36 23 North fork of Platte river, mouth of Sweet Water _ 42 27 18 30 Horse-shoe creek, noon halt _ 42 24 24 Sept. 3 North fork of Platte river, right bank , 42 01 40 4 North fork of Platte river, near Scott’s bluffs _ 41 54 38 5 North fork of Platte river, right bank, six miles aboye 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 bluffs _ 41 10- 16 16 Platte river, noon halt - _ 40 54 31 16 Platte river, left bank - _ 40 52 34 17 Platte river, left bank - 40 42 38 101 C 174 ] Table of latitudes and longitudes — Continued. Date. Station. . Latitude. 1842. I Deg- min . sec. Sept. 18 Platte river, left bank , 40 40 21 19 Platte river, left,bank - 40 39 44 20 Platte river, noon halt, left bank - 40 48 19 20 Platte river, left bank - ■ 40 54 02 21 Platte river, left bank - - - - 41 05 37 23 Platte river, noon halt, left bank - 41 20 20 . 23 Platte river, left bank - 41 22 52 25 Platte river, mouth of Loup fork - - 41 22 11 • 28 Platte river, mouth of Elk Horn river 41 09 34 29 Platte river, left bank - 41 02 15 Oct. 2 Bellevue, at the poet of the American Fur Company, right bank of the Missouri river - 41 08 24 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 Longitude. Deg . min . sec . 95 20 9 % A REPORT OF THE EXPLORING EXPEDITION TO OREGON AND NORTH CALIFORNIA, IN THE YEARS 1843-’44. 105 [ *74 ] REPOET. Washington City, March 1 , 1845. Colonel J. J. A'eert, Chief of the Corps of Topographical Engineers: Sir: In pursuance of your instructions, to connect the reconnoissance of 1842, which I had the honor to conduct, with the surveys of Commander Wilkes on the coast of the Pacific ocean, so as to give a connected survey of the interior of our continent, I proceeded to the Great West early in the spring of 1S43, and arrived, on the 17th of May, at the little town of Kan- sas, on the Missouri frontier, near the junction of the Kansas river with the Missouri river, where I was detained near two weeks* in completing the necessary preparations for the extended explorations winch my instruc- tions contemplated. My party consisted principally of Creole and Canadian French, and Americans, amounting in all to 39 men; among whom you will recognise several of those who were with me in my first expedition, and who have been favorably brought to your notice in a former report. Mr. Thomas Fitzpatrick, whom many years of hardship and exposure in the western territories had rendered familiar with a portion of the country it was de- signed to explore, had been selected as our guide ; and Mr. Charles Preuss, who had been my assistant in the previous journey, was again associated with me in the same capacity on the present expedition. Agreeably to your directions, Mr. Theodore Talbot, of Washington city, had been attached to the party, with a view to advancement in his profession ; and at St. Louis I had been joined by Mr. Frederick Dwight, a gentleman of Springfield, Massachusetts, who availed himself of our overland journey to visit the Sandwich islands and China, by way of Fort Vancouver. The men engaged for the service were : Alexis Ayot, Francois Badeau, Oliver Beaulieu, Baptiste Bernier, John A. Campbell, John G. Campbell, Manuel Chapman, Ransom Clark, Philibert Courteau, Michel Crelis, William Creuss, Clinton Deforest, Baptiste Derosier, Basil Lajeunesse, Francois Lajeunesse, Henry Lee, Louis Menard, Louis Montreuil, Samuel Neal, Alexis Pera, Francois Pera, James Power, Raphael Proue, Oscar Sarpy, Baptiste Tabeau, Charles Taplin, Baptiste Tesson, Auguste Vasquez, Joseph Verrot, Patrick White, Tiery Wright, Louis 2indel, and 106 [ 174 ] Jacob Dodson, a free young colored man of Washington city, who vol- j unteered to accompany the expedition, and performed his duty manfully | throughout the voyage. Two Delaware Indians — a fine-looking old man | andhisson — were engaged to accompany the expedition as hunters, through the kindness of Major Cummins, the excellent Indian agent. L. Maxwell, who had accompanied the expedition as one of the hunters in 1842, being on his way to Taos, in New Mexico, also joined us at this place. The party was armed generally with Hall’s carbines, which, with a brass 12-lb. howitzer, had been furnished to me from the United States arsenal at St. Louis, agreeably to the orders of Colonel S. W. Kearney, commanding the 3d military division. Three men were especially detailed for the man- agement of this piece, under the charge of Louis Zindel, a native of Germa- ; ny, who had been 19 years a non-commissioned officer of artillery in the Prussian army, and regularly instructed in the duties of his profession. The camp equipage and provisions were transported in twelve carts, drawn each 1 by two mules; and a light covered wagon, mounted on good springs, had ' been provided for the safer carriage of the instruments. These were : One refracting telescope, by Frauenhofer. One reflecting circle, by Gambey. Two sextants, by Troughton. One pocket chronometer, No. 837, by Gofle, Falmouth. One pocket chronometer, No. 739, by Brockbank. One syphon barometer, by Bunten, Paris. One cistern barometer, by Frye & Shaw, New York. Six thermometers, and a number of small compasses. To make the exploration as useful as possible, I determined, in conform- | ity to your general instructions, to vary the route to the Rocky mountains from that followed in the year 1S42. The route then was up the valley of ; the Great Platte river to the South Pass, in north latitude 42° ; the route now determined on was up the valley of the Kansas river, and to the head | of the Arkansas, and to some pass in the mountains, if any could be found, at the sources of that river. B}?- making this deviation from the former route, the problem of a new road to Oregon and California, in a climate more genial, might be solved ; and a better knowledge obtained of an important river, and the country it drained, while the great object of the expedition would find its point of commencement at the termination of the former, which was at that great gate in the ridge of the Rocky mountains called the South Pass, and on the lofty peak of the mountain which overlooks it, deemed the highest peak in the ridge, and from the opposite sides of which four great rivers take their rise, and flow to the Pacific or the Mississippi. Various obstacles delayed our departure until the morning of the 29th, when we commenced our long voyage ; and at the close of a day, rendered disagreeably cold by incessant rain, encamped about four miles beyond the frontier, on the verge of the great prairies. Resuming our journey on the 31st, after the delay of a day to complete our equipment and furnish ourselves with some of the comforts of civilized life, we encamped in the evening at Elm Grove, in company with several emigrant wagons, constituting a party which was proceeding to Upper Cal- ifornia, under the direction of Mr. J. B. Childs, of Missouri. The wagons were variously freighted with goods, furniture, and farming utensils, con- 107 [ 174 ] taining among other things an entire set of machinery for a mill which Mr. Childs designed erecting on the waters of the Sacramento river emptying into the bay of San Francisco. We were joined here by Mr. William Gilpin, of Missouri, who, intending this year to visit the settlements in Oregon, had been invited to accompany us, and proved a useful and agreeable addition to the party. From this en- campment, our route until the 3d of June was nearly the same as that de- scribed to you in 1S42. Trains of wagons were almost constantly in sight ; giving to the road a populous and animated appearance, although the great- er portion of the emigrants were collected at the crossing, or already on their march beyond the Kansas river. Leaving at the ford the usual emigrant road to the mountains, (which you will find delineated with considerable detail on one of the accompanying maps,) we continued our route along the southern side of the Kansas, where we found the country much more broken than on the northern side of the river, and where our progress was much delayed by the numerous small streams, which obliged us to make frequent bridges. On the morning of the 4th, we crossed a handsome stream, called by the Indians Otter creek, about 130 feet wide, where a flat stratum of limestone, which forms the bed, made an excellent ford. We met here a small party of Kansas and Delaware Indians, the latter returning from a hunting and trapping expe- dition on the upper waters of the river ; and on the heights above were five or six Kansas women, engaged in digging prairie potatoes, ( psoralea esculenta.) On the afternoon of the 6th, while busily engaged in crossing a wooded stream, we were thrown into a little confusion by the sudden ar- rival of Maxwell, who entered the camp at full speed at the head of a war party of Osage Indians, with gay red blankets, and heads shaved to the scalp lock. They had run him a distance of about nine miles, from a creek on which we had encamped the day previous, and to which he had re- turned in search of a runaway horse belonging to Mr. Dwight, which had taken the homeward road, carrying with him saddle, bridle, and holster pistols. The Osages were probably ignorant of our strength, and, when they charged into the camp, drove off a number of our best horses ; but we were fortunately well mounted, and, after a hard chase of seven or eight miles, succeeded in recovering them all. This accident, which occasioned delay and trouble, and threatened danger and loss, and broke down some good horses at the start, and actually endangered the expedition, was a first fruit of having gentlemen in company — very estimable, to be sure, but who are not trained to the care and vigilance and self-dependence which such an expedition required, and who are not subject to the orders which enforce attention and exertion. We arrived on the 8th at the mouth of the Smoky- hill fork, which is the principal southern branch of the Kansas ; forming here, by its junction with the Republican, or northern branch, the main Kansas river. Neither stream was fordable, and the necessity of making a raft, together with bad weather, detained us here until the morning of the 11th ; when we resumed our journey along the Republican fork. By our observations, the junction of the streams is in latitude 39° 03' 38", longi- tude 96° 24' 56", and at an elevation of 926 feet above the gulf of Mexico. For several days we continued to travel along the Republican, through a country beautifully watered with numerous streams, handsomely timbered; and rarely an incident occurred to vary the monotonous resemblance which one day on the prairies here bears to another, and which scarcely require 108 [ 174 ] a particular description. Now and then, we caught a glimpse of a small herd of elk ; and occasionally a band of antelopes, whose curiosity some- times brought them within rifle range, would circle round us, and then scour off into the prairies. As we advanced on our road, these became more frequent ; but as we journeyed on the line usually followed by the ,, trapping and hunting parties of the Kansas and Delaware Indians, game of every kind continued very shy and wild. The bottoms which form the immediate valley of the main river were generally about three miles wide; \ having a rich soil of black vegetable mould, and, for a prairie country, well interspersed with wood. The country was every where covered with a considerable variety of grasses — occasionally poor and thin, but far more i frequently luxuriant and rich. We had been gradually and regularly as- ; cending in our progress westward, and on the evening of the 14th, when j we encamped on a little creek in the valley of the Republican, 265 miles by our travelling road from the mouth of the Kansas, we were at an eleva- I tion of 1,520 feet. That part of the river where we were now encamped is called by the Indians the Big Timber. Hitherto our route had been laborious and extremely slow, the unusually wet spring and constant rain having so saturated the whole country that it was necessary to bridge every water- course, and, for days together, our usual march averaged only five or six miles. Finding that at such a rate of travel it would be imposible to com- ply with your instructions, I determined at this place to divide the party, j and, leaving Mr. Fitzpatrick with 25 men in charge of the provisions and heavier baggage of the camp, to proceed myself in advance, with a light ! party of 15 men, taking with me the howitzer and the light wagon which carried the instruments. Accordingly, on the morning of the 16th, the parties separated ; and, bear- ing a little out from the river, with a view of heading some of the numerous affluents, after a few hours’ travel over somewhat broken ground, we en- tered upon an extensive and high level prairie, on which we encamped to- wards evening at a little stream, where a single dry cottonwood afforded the necessary fuel for preparing supper. Among a variety of grasses which to- day made their first appearance, I noticed bunch grass, \festuca,) and buffalo grass, ( sesleria dactyloides.) Amorpha canescens {lead plant ) continued the characteristic plant of the country, and a narrow-leaved lathy rus oc- curred during the morning in beautiful patches. Sida coccinea occurred frequently, with a psoralia near psoralia floribunda , and a number of | plants not hitherto met, just verging into bloom. The water on which we ) had encamped belonged to Solomon’s fork of the Smoky-hill river, along I whose tributaries we continued to travel for several days. The country afforded us an excellent road, the route being generally over high and very level prairies ; and we met with no other delay than be- ing frequently obliged to bridge one of the numerous streams, which were well timbered with ash, elm, cottonwood, and a very large oak — the latter being, occasionally, five and six feet in diameter, with a spreading summit. Sida coccinea is very frequent in vermilion-colored patches on the high . and low prairie ; and I remarked that it has a very pleasant perfume. The wild sensitive plant {schrankia angustata) occurs frequently, gen- erally on the dry prairies, in valleys of streams, and frequently on the broken prairie bank. I remark that the leaflets close instantly to a very light touch. Amorpha , with the same psoralea, and a dwarf species of lupinus, are the characteristic plants. 109 C 174 ] On the 19th, in the afternoon, we crossed the Pawnee road to the Ar- kansas, and, travelling a few miles onward, the monotony of the prairies was suddenly dispelled by the appearance of five or six buffalo bulls, form- ing a vanguard of immense herds, among which we were travelling a few days afterwards. Prairie dogs were seen for the first time during the day; and we had the good fortune to obtain an antelope for supper. Our eleva- tion had now increased to 1,900 feet. Sida coccinea was a characteristic on the creek bottoms, and buffalo grass is becoming abundant on the higher parts of the ridges. June 21. — During the forenoon we travelled up a branch of the creek on which we had encamped, in a broken country, where, however, the dividing ridges always afforded a good r< ad. Plants were few; and with the short sward of the buffalo grass, which now prevailed every where, giving to the prairies a smooth and mossy appearance, were mingled frequent [ patches of a beautiful red grass, ( aristida pa/lens, ) which had made its ap- pearance only within the last few days. i We halted to noon at a solitary cottonwood in a hollow, near which was killed the first buffalo, a large old bull. Antelope appeared in bands during the day. Crossing here to the affluents of the Republican, we encamped on a fork, about forty feet wide and one foot deep, flowing with a swift current over a sandy bed, and well wooded with ash-leaved maple, ( negunclo fraxinifolium ,) elm, cottonwood, and a few white oaks. We were visited in the evening by a very violent storm, accompanied by wind, lightning, and thunder; a cold rain falling in torrents. According to the barometer, our elevation was 2,130 feet above the gulf. At noon, on the 23d, we descended into the valley of a principal fork of the Republican, a beautiful stream with a dense border of wood, consisting principally of varieties of ash, forty feet wide and four feet deep. It was mu- sical with the notes of many birds, which, from the vast expanse of silent prairie around, seemed all to have collected here. We. continued during the afternoon our route along the river, which was populous with prairie dogs, (the bottoms being entirely occupied with their villages,) and late in the evening encamped on its banks. The prevailing timber is a blue-foliaged ash, ( fraxinus , near F. Americana ,) and ash-leaved maple. With these were fraxinus Americana, cottonwood, and long-leaved willow. We gave to this stream the name of Prairie Dog river. Elevation 2,350 feet. Our road on the 25th lay over high smooth ridges, 3,100 feet above the sea; buffalo in great numbers, absolutely covering the face of the country. At evening we encamped within a few miles of the main Republican, on a lit- | tie creek, where the air was fragrant with the perfume of artemisia filifolia , which we here saw for the first time, and which was now in bloom. Shortly after leaving our encampment on the 26th, we found suddenly that the na- ture of the country had entirely changed. Bare sand hills every where sur- ; rounded us in the undulating ground along which we were moving; and the plants peculiar to a sandy soil made their appearance in abundance. A few miles further we entered the valley of a large stream, afterwards known to be the Republican fork of the Kansas, whose shallow waters, with a depth of only a few inches, were spread out over a bed of yellowish white sand 600 yards wide. With the exception of one or two distant and de- tached groves, no timber of any kind was to be seen; and the features of the country assumed a desert character, with which the broad river, strug- gling for existence among quicksands along the treeless banks, was strik- 110 [ 174 ] ingly in keeping. On the opposite side, the broken ridges assumed almost i a mountainous appearance ; and, fording the stream, we continued on our i course among these ridges, and encamped late in the evening at a little pond of very bad water, from which we drove away a herd of buffalo that were standing in and about it. Our encampment this evening was 3,500 feet above the sea. We travelled now for several days through a broken and " dry sandy region, about 4,000 feet above the sea, where there were no run- ning streams; and some anxiety was constantly felt on account of the un- certainty of water, which was only to be found in small lakes that occur- red occasionally among the hills. The discovery of these always brought pleasure to the camp, as around them were generally green flats, which af- forded abundant pasturage for our animals ; and here were usually collected herds of the buffalo/ which now were scattered over all the country in countless numbers. The soil of bare and hot sands supported a varied and exuberant growth of plants, which were much farther advanced than we had previously found them, and whose showy bloom somewhat relieved the appearance of gene- ral sterility. Crossing the summit of an elevated and continuous range of , rolling hills, on the afternoon of the 30th of June we found ourselves over- : looking a broad and misty valley, where, about ten miles distant, and 1,000 feet below us, the South fork of the Platte was rolling magnificently along, swollen with the waters of the melting snows. It was in strong and re- freshing contrast with the parched country from which we had just issued; and when, at night, the broad expanse of water grew indistinct, it almost seemed that we had pitched our tents on the shore of the sea. Travelling along up the valley of the river, here 4,000 feet above the sea, j in the afternoon of July 1 we caught a far and uncertain view of a faint blue mass in the west, as the sun sank behind it ; and from our camp in the morning, at the mouth of Bijou, Long’s peak and the neighboring moun- tains stood out into the sky, grand and luminously white, covered to their bases with glittering snow. On the evening of the 3d, as we were journeying along the partially over- flowed bottoms of the Platte, where our passage stirred up swarms of mos- quitoes, we came unexpectedly upon an Indian, who was perched on a bluff, curiously watching the movements of our caravan. He belonged to a village of Oglallah Sioux, who had lost all their animals in the severity of the preceding winter, and were now on their way up the Bijou fork to beg horses from the Arapahoes, who were hunting buffalo at the head of that river. Several came into our camp at noon ; and, as they were hungry, ‘ as usual, they were provided with buffalo meat, of which the hunters had brought in an abundant supply. About noon, on the 4th of July, we arrived at the fort, where Mr. St. Vrain received us with his customary kindness, and invited us t© join him in a feast which had been prepared in honor of the day. Our animals were very much worn out, and our stock of provisions en- tirely exhausted when we arrived at the fort; but I was disappointed in my hope of obtaining relief, as I found it in a very impoverished condition ; and we were able to procure only a little unbolted Mexican flour, and some salt, with a few pounds of powder and lead. As regarded provisions, it did not much matter in a country where rarely the day passed without seeing some kind of game, and where it was fre- quently abundant. It was a rare thing to lie down hungry, and we had al- Ill [ 174 ] ready learned to think bread a luxury ; but we could not proceed without animals, and our own were not capable of prosecuting the journey beyond the mountains without relief. I had been informed that a large number of mules had recently arrived at Taos, from Upper California ; and as our friend, Mr. Maxwell, was about to continue his journey to that place, where a portion of his family resided, I engaged him to purchase for me 10 or 12 mules, with the un- derstanding that he should pack them with provisions and other necessa- ries, and meet me at the mouth of the Fontaine qui bouit , on the Arkan- sas river, to which point I would be led in the course of the survey. Agreeably to his own request, and in the conviction that his habits of life and education had not qualified him to endure the hard life of a voy- ageur, I discharged here one of my party, Mr. Oscar Sarpy, having furnished him with arms and means of transportation to Fort Laramie, where he would be in the line of caravans returning to the States. At daybreak, on the 6th of July, Maxwell was on his way to Taos ; and a few hours after we also had recommenced our journey up the Platte, which was continuously timbered with cottonwood and willow, on a gen- erally sandy soil. Passing on the way the remains of two abandoned forts, (one of which, however, was still in good condition,) we reached, in 10 miles, Fort Lancaster, the trading establishment of Mr. Lupton. Plis post was beginning to assume the appearance of a comfortable farm : stock, hogs, and cattle, were ranging about on the prairie ; there were different kinds of poultry ; and there was the wreck of a promising garden, in which a considerable variety of vegetables had been in a flourishing condition, but it had been almost entirely ruined by the recent high waters. I remained to spend with him an agreeable hour, and sat off in a cold storm of rain, which was accompanied with violent thunder and lightning. We encamped immediately on the river, 16 miles from St. Vrain’s. Several Arapahoes, on their way to the village which was encamped a few miles above us, passed by the camp in the course of the afternoon. Night sat in stormy and cold, with heavy and continuous rain, which lasted until morning. July 7. — We made this morning an early start, continuing to travel up the Platte ; and in a few miles frequent bands of horses and mules, scatter- ed for several miles round about, indicated our approach to the Arapaho village, which we found encamped in a beautiful bottom, and consisting of about 160 lodges. It appeared extremely populous, with a great number of children; a circumstance which indicated a regular supply of the means of subsistence. The chiefs, who were gathered together at the farther end of the village, received us (as probably strangers are always received to whom they desire to show respect or regard) by throwing their arms around our necks and embracing us. It required some skill in horsemanship to keep the saddle during the per- formance of this ceremony, as our American horses exhibited for them the same fear they have for a bear or any other wild animal. Having very few goods with me, I was only able to make them a meager present, accounting for the poverty of the gift by explaining that my goods had been left with the wagons in charge of Mr. Fitzpatrick, who was well known to them as the White Head, or the Broken Hand. I saw here, as I had remarked in an Arapaho village the preceding year, near the lodges of the chiefs, tall tripods of white poles supporting their spears and shields, which showed it to be a regular custom. 112 [ 174 ] Though disappointed in obtaining the presents which had been evident- ly expected, they behaved very courteously, and, after a little conversation, V| I left them, and, continuing on up the river, halted to noon on the bluff, as the bottoms are almost inundated; continuing in the afternoon our route along the mountains, which were dark, misty, and shrouded — threat- • ening a storm ; the snow peaks sometimes glittering through the clouds be- yond the first ridge. We surprised a grizzly bear sauntering along the river ; which, raising himself upon his hind legs, took a deliberate survey of us, that did not ap- pear very satisfactory to him, and he scrambled into the river and swam to the opposite side. We halted for the night a little above Cherry creek ; the evening cloudy, with many mosquitoes. Some indifferent observations i placed the camp in latitude 39° 43' 53", and chronometric longitude 105° : 24' 34 ". July 8. — We continued to-day to travel up the Platte ; the morning pleas- ant, with a prospect of fairer weather. During the forenoon our way lay over a more broken country, with a gravelly and sandy surface ; although the immediate bottom of the river was a good soil, of a dark sandy mould, resting upon a stratum of large pebbles, or rolled stones, as at Laramie fork. Op our right, and apparently very near, but probably 8 or 10 miles distant, and two or three thousand feet above us, ran the first range of the moun- tains, like a dark corniced line, in clear contrast with the great snowy chain which, immediately beyond, rose glittering five thousand feet above them. We caught this morning a view of Pike’s peak : but it appeared for a mo- ment only, as clouds rose early over the mountains, and shrouded them in mist and rain all the day. In the first range were visible, as at the Red Buttes on the North fork, very lofty escarpments of red rock. While trav- elling through this region, I remarked that always in the morning the lofty peaks were visible and bright, but very soon small white clouds began to settle around them — brewing thicker and darker as the day advanced, until the afternoon, when the thunder began to roll ; and invariably at evening we had more or less of a thunder storm. At 1 1 o’clock, and 21 miles from St. Yrain’s fort, we reached a point in this southern fork of the Platte, where the stream is divided into three forks; two of these (one of them being much the largest) issuing directly from the mountains on the west, and forming, with the easternmost branch, a river of the plains. The elevation of this point is about 5,500 feet above the sea ; this river falling 2,800 feet in a distance of 316 miles, to its junction with the North fork of the Platte. In this estimate, the elevation of the junction is assumed as given by our bar- ometrical observations in 1842. On the easternmost branch, up which we took our way, we first came among the pines growing on the top of a very high bank, and where we halted on it to noon ; quaking asp ( populus tremuloides ) was mixed with the cottonwood, and there were excellent grass and rushes for the animals. During the morning there occurred many beautiful flowers, which we had not hitherto met. Among them, the common blue flowering flax made its first appearance ; and a tall and handsome species of gilia , with slender scarlet flowers, which appeared yesterday for the first time, was very fre- quent to-day. We had found very little game since leaving the fort, and provisions be- gan to get unpleasantly scant, as we had had no meat for several days ; but towards sundown, when we had. already made up our minds to sleep another 113 [ 174 } night without supper, Lajeunesse had the good fortune to kill a fine deer, which he found feeding in a hollow near by ; and as the rain began to fall, threatening an unpleasant night, we hurried to secure a comfortable camp in the timber. To-night the camp fires, girdled with appolas of fine venison, looked cheerful in spite of the stormy weather. July 9 . — On account of the low state of our provisions and the scarcity of game, I determined to vary our route, and proceed several camps to the eastward, in the hope of falling in with the buffalo. This route along the dividing grounds between the South fork of the Platte and the Arkansas, would also afford some additional geographical information. This morning, therefore, we turned to the eastward, along the upper waters of the stream on which we had encamped, entering a country of picturesque and varied scenery ; broken into rocky hills of singular shapes ; little valleys, with pure crystal water, here leaping swiftly along, and there losing itself in the sands; green spots of luxuriant grass, flowers of all colors, and timber of different kinds — every thing to give it a varied beauty, except game. To one of these remarkably shaped hills, having on the summit a circular flat rock two or three hundred yards in circumference, some one gave the name of Poundcake, which it has been permitted to retain, as our hungry people seemed to think it a very agreeable comparison. In the afternoon a buffalo bull was killed, and we encamped on a small stream, near the road which runs from St. Vrain’s fort to the Arkansas. July 10. — Snow fell heavily on the mountains during the night, and Pike’s peak this morning is luminous and grand, covered from the summit,, as low down as we can see, with glittering white. Leaving the encamp- ment at 6 o’clock, we continued our easterly course over a rolling country, near to the high ridges, which are generally rough and rocky, with a coarse conglomerate displayed in masses, and covered with pines. This rock is very friable, and it is undoubtedly from its decomposition that the prairies derive their sandy and gravelly formation. In 6 miles we crossed a head water of the Kioway river, on which we found a strong fort and coral that had been built in the spring, and halted to noon on the principal branch of the river. During the morning our route led over a dark vegetable mould, mixed with sand and gravel, the characteristic plant being esparcette, ( ono - brychis saliva ,) a species of clover which is much used in certain parts of Germany for pasturage of stock — principally hogs. It is sown on rocky waste ground, which would otherwise be useless, and grows very luxu- riantly, requiring only a renewal of the seed about once in fifteen years. Its abundance here greatly adds to the pastoral value of this region. A species of antennaria in flower was very common along the line of road, and the creeks were timbered with willow and pine. We encamped on Bijou’s fork, the water of which, unlike the clear streams we had previously crossed, is of a whitish color, and the soil of the bottom a very hard, tough clay. There was a prairie dog village on the bottom, and, in the endeavor to unearth one of the little animals, we labored ineffectually in the tough clay until dark. After descending, with a slight inclination, until it had gone the depth of two feet, the hole suddenly turned at a sharp angle ill another direction for one more foot in depth, when it again turned, taking an ascending direction to the next nearest hole. I have no doubt that all their little habitations communicate with each other. The greater part of 8 1 114 [ 174 ] the people were sick to-day, and I was inclined to attribute their indispo- ! sition to the meat of the bull which had been killed the previous day. July 11. — There were no indications of buffalo having been recently in the neighborhood; and, unwilling to travel farther eastward, I turned this morning to the southward, up the valley of Bijou. Esparcette occurred 1 universally, and among the plants on the river I noticed, for the first time during this journey, a few small bushes of the absinthe of the voyageurs, which is commonly used for fire wood, ( artemisia tridental a. ) Yesterday and to-day the road has been ornamented with the showy bloom of a beau- tiful lupin us , a characteristic in many parts of the mountain region, on which were generally great numbers of an insect with very bright colors, (lit l a vesicatoria.) As we were riding quietly along, eagerly searching every hollow in search of game, we discovered, at a little distance in the prairie, a large grizzly bear, so busily engaged in digging roots that he did not perceive us until we were galloping down a little hill fifty yards from him, when he charged upon us with such sudden energy, that several of us came near losing our saddles. Being wounded, he commenced retreating to a rocky piney ridge near by, from which we were not able to cut him off, and we entered the timber with him. The way was very much blocked up with fallen timber ; and we kept up a running fight for some time, animated by the bear charging among the horses. He did not fall until after he had received six rifle balls. He was miserably poor, and added nothing to our stock of provisions. We followed the stream to its head in a broken ridge, which, according to the barometer, was about 7,500 feet above the sea. This is a piney ele- vation, into which the prairies are gathered, and from which the waters flow, in almost every direction, to the Arkansas, Platte, and Kansas livers; the latter stream having here its remotest sources. Although somewhat rocky and broken, and covered with pines, in comparison with the neigh- boring mountains, it scarcely forms an interruption to the great prairie plains which sweep up to their bases. The annexed view of Pike’s peak from this camp, at the distance of 40 miles, represents very correctly the manner in which this mountain barrier presents itself to travellers on the plains, which sweep almost directly to its bases; an immense and comparatively smooth and grassy prairie, in very strong contrast with the black masses of timber, and the glittering snow above them. This is the picture which has been left upon my mind; arid I annex this sketch, to convey to you the same impression. With occasional exceptions, comparatively so very small as not to require mention, these prairies are every where covered with a close and vigorous growth of a great variety of grasses, among which the most abundant is the buffalo grass, (. sesleria dactyloides.) Between the Platte and Arkansas rivers, that part of this region which forms the basin drained by the waters of the Kansas, with which our operations made us more particularly acquainted, is based iipon a formation of calcareous rocks. The soil of all this country is ex- cellent, admirably adapted to agricultural purposes, and would support a large agricultural and pastoral population. A glance at the map accompa- nying this report, along our several lines of travel, will show you that this plain is watered by many streams. Throughout the western half of the plain, these are shallow, with sandy beds, becoming deeper as they reach the richer lands approaching the Missouri river ; they generally have bottom 115 [ 174 J lands, bordered by bluffs varying from 50 to 500 feet in height. In all this region the timber is entirely confined to the streams. In the eastern half, where the soil is a deep, rich, vegetable mould, retentive of rain and moist- ure, it is of vigorous growth, and of many different kinds : and throughout the western half it consists entirely of various species of cottonwood, which deserves to be called the tree of the desert — growing in sandy soils, where no other tree will grow ; pointing out the existence of water, and furnishing to the traveller fuel, and food for his animals. Add to this, that the western border of the plain is occupied by the Sioux, Arapaho, and Cheyenne na- tions, and the Pawnees and other half-civilized tribes in its eastern limits,, for whom the intermediate country is a war ground, you will have a toler- ably correct idea of the appearance and condition of the country. De- scending a somewhat precipitous and rocky hill side among the pines, which rarely appear elsewhere than on the ridge, we encamped at its foot, where there were several springs, which you will find laid down upon the map as one of the extreme sources of the Smoky Hill fork of the Kansas. From this place the view extended over the Arkansas valley, and the Spanish peaks in the south beyond. As the greater part of the men continued sick, I encamped here for the day, and ascertained conclusively, from experiments on mysAf, that their illness was caused by the meat of the buffalo bull. On the summit of the ridge, near the camp, were several rock-built forts, which in front were very difficult of approach, and in the rear were pro- tected by a precipice entirely beyond the reach of a rifle ball. The even- ing was tolerably clear, with a temperature at sunset of 63°. Elevation of the camp 7,300 feet. Turning the next day to the southwest, we reached, in the course of the morning, the wagon road to the settlements on the Arkansas river, and encamped in the afternoon on the Fontaine-qui-bouit (or Boiling Spring} river, where it was 50 feet wide, with a swift current. I afterwards found that the spring and river owe their names to the bubbling of the efferves- cing gas in the former, and not to the temperature of the water, which is cold. During the morning, a tall species of gilia, with a slender white flower, was characteristic; and, in the latter part of the day, another vari- ety of esparcette , (wild clover,) having the flower white, was equally so. We had a fine sunset of golden brown ; and, in the evening, a very bright moon, with the near mountains, made a beautiful scene. Thermometer, at. sunset, was 69°, and our elevation above the sea 5,800 feet. July 13. — The morning was clear, with a northwesterly breeze, and the thermometer at sunrise at 46°. There were no clouds along the moun- tains, and the morning sun showed very clearly their rugged character. We resumed our journey very early down the river, following an ex- tremely good lodge trail, which issues by the head of this stream from the bayou Salade, a high mountain valley behind Pike’s peak. The soil along the road was sandy and gravelly, and the river well timbered. We halted to noon under the shade of some fine large cottonwoods, our animals lux- uriating on rushes ( equisetum hyemale^) which, along this river, were re- markably abundant. A variety of cactus made its appearance, and among several strange plants were numerous and beautiful clusters of a plant resembling mirabilis jalapa, with a handsome convolvulus I had not hitherto seen, ( calystegia .) In the afternoon we passed near the encamp- ment of a hunter named Maurice, who had been out into the plains in pur- suit of buffalo calves, a number of which I saw among some domestic cat- 116 [ 174 ] lie near his lodge. Shortly afterwards, a party of mountaineers galloped up to us — fine-looking and hardy men, dressed in skins and mounted oil good fat horses; among them were several Connecticut men, a portion of Wyeth’s party, whom I had seen the year before, and others were men from the western States. Continuing down the river, we encamped at noon on the 14th at its mouth, on the Arkansas river. A short distance above our encampment, on the left bank of the Arkansas, is a pueblo , (as the Mexicans call their civilized Indian villages,) where a number of mountaineers, who had mar- ried Spanish women in the valley of Taos, had collected together, and oc- cupied themselves in farming, carrying on at the same time a desultory In- dian trade. They were principally Americans, and treated us with all the rude hospitality their situation admitted ; but as all commercial intercourse with New Mexico was now interrupted, in consequence of Mexican de- crees to that effect, there was nothing to be had in the way of provisions. They had, however, a fine stock of cattle, and furnished us an abundance of excellent milk. I learned here that Maxwell, in company with two other men, had started for Taos on the morning of the 9th, but that he would probably fall into the hands of the Utah Indians, commonly called the Spanish Yules. As Maxwell had no knowledge of their being in the vicinity when he crossed the Arkansas, his chance of escape was very doubtful ; but I did not entertain much apprehension for his life, having great confidence in his prudence and courage. I was further informed that there had been a popular tumult among the pueblos, or civilized Indians, Tesiding near Taos, against the u foreigners ” of that place, in which they had plundered their houses and ill-treated their families. Among those whose property had been destroyed, was Mr. Beaubien, father-in-law of Maxwell, from whom I had expected to obtain supplies, and who had been obliged to make his escape to Santa Fe. By this position of affairs, our expectation of obtaining supplies from Taos was cut off. I had here the satisfaction to meet our good buffalo hunter of 1843, Christopher Carson, whose services I considered myself fortunate to secure again ; and as a reinforcement of mules was absolutely necessary, I despatched him immediately, with an account of our necessi- ties, to Mr. Charles Bent, whose principal post is on the Arkansas river, about 75 miles below Fontaine-qui-bouit. He was directed to proceed from that post by the nearest route across the country, and meet me with what animals he should be able to obtain at St. V rain’s fort. I also ad- mitted into the party Charles Towns — a native of St. Louis, a serviceable ~ man, with many of the qualities of a good voyageur. According to our ob- servations, the latitude of the mouth of the river is 38° 15' 23"; its longi- tude 104° 58' 30"; and its elevation above the sea 4,880 feet. On the morning of the 16th, the time for Maxwell’s arrival having ex- pired, we resumed our journey, leaving for him a note, in which it was stated that I would wait for him at St. Vrain’s fort until the morning of the 26th, in the event that be should succeed in his commission. Our direction was up the Boiling Spring river, it being my intention to visit the celebrated springs from which the river takes its name, and which are on its upper waters, at the foot of Pike’s peak. Our animals fared well while we were on this stream, there being every where a great abundance of prele. Ipo - mea leptophylla , in bloom, was a characteristic plant along the river, gen- erally in large bunches, with two to five flowers on each. Beautiful clus- 117 [ 174 ] ters of the plant resembling mirabilis jalapa were numerous, and gly- cyrrhiza lepidota was a characteristic of the bottoms. Currants nearly ripe were abundant, and among the shrubs which covered the bottom was a very luxuriant growth of chenopodiaceous shrubs, four to six feet high. On the afternoon of the 17th we entered among the broken ridges at the foot of the mountains, where the river made several forks. Leaving the camp to follow slowly, I rode ahead in the afternoon in search of the springs. In the mean time, the clouds, which had been gathered all the afternoon over the mountains, began to roll down their sides ; and a storm so violent burst upon me, that it appeared I had entered the storehouse of the thunder storms. I continued, however, to ride along up the river until about sunset, and was beginning to be doubtful of finding the springs before the next day, when 1 came suddenly upon a large smooth rock about twenty yards in diameter, where the water from several springs was bubbling and boiling up in the midst of a white incrustation with which it had covered a portion of the rock. As this did not correspond with a description given me by the hunters, I did not stop to taste the water, but, dismounting, walked a little way up the river, and, passing through a narrow thicket of shrubbery bor- dering 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 whidh had been drinking at the spring was startled by my approach, and, springing across the river, bounded off up the mountain. In the upper part of the rock, which had apparently been formed by depo- sition, was a beautiful white basin, overhung by currant bushes, in which the cold clear water bubbled up, kept in constant motion by the escaping gas, and overflowing the rock, which it had almost entirely covered with a smooth crust of glistening white. I had all day refrained from drink- ing, reserving myself for the spring; and as I could not well be more wet than the rain had already made me, I lay down by the side of the basin, and drank heartily of the delightful water. The annexed sketch is only a rude one, but it will enable you to form some idea of the character of the scenery and the beauty of this spot, immediately at the foot of lofty moun- tains, beautifully timbered, which sweep closely round, shutting up the little valley in a kind of cove. As it was beginning to grow dark, I rode quickly down the river, on which I found the camp a few miles below. The morning of the 18th was beautiful and clear, and, all the people being anxious to drink of these famous waters, we encamped immediately at the springs, and spent there a very pleasant day. On the opposite side of the river is another locality of springs, which are entirely of the same nature. The water has a very agreeable taste, which Mr. Preuss found very much to resemble that of the famous Seller springs in the grand duchy of Nassau, a country famous for wine and mineral waters; and it is almost entirely of the same character, though still more agreeable than that of the famous Bear springs, near Bear river of the Great Salt lake. The follow- ing is an analysis of an incrustation with which the water had covered a piece of wood lying on the rock : Carbonate of lime - - - - 92.25 Carbonate of magnesia - - - - -1.21 Sulphate of lime Chloride of calcium Chloride of magnesia .23 118 [ 174 ] Silica ------- 1.50 Vegetable matter ------ .20 Moisture and loss - - - - - 4.61 100.00 At 1 1 o’clock, when the temperature of the air was 73°, that of the water in this was 60.5°; and that of the upper spring, which issued from the flat rock, more exposed to the sun, was 69°. At sunset, when the tem- perature of the air was 66°, that of the lower springs was 58°, and that of the upper 61°. July 19. — A beautiful and clear morning, with a slight breeze from the northwest ; the temperature of air at sunrise being 57.5°. At this time the temperature of the lower spring was 57.8°, and that of the upper 54 . 3 °. The trees in the neighborhood were birch, willow, pine, and an oak re- sembling quercus alba. In the shrubbery along the river are currant bushes, (vibes,) of which the fruit has a singular piney flavor ; and on the mountain side, in a red gravelly soil, is a remarkable coniferous tree, (perhaps an abies,) having the leaves singulary long, broad, and scattered, with bushes of spiraea arisefolia. By our 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 lo reach the mouth of the eastern fork, which I proposed to ascend. The 4eft bank of the river here is very much broken. There is a handsome little bottom on the right, and both banks are exceedingly picturesque — strata of red rock, in nearly perpendicular walls, crossing the valley from north to south. About three miles below the springs, on the right bank of the river, is a nearly perpendicular limestone rock, presenting a uniformly unbroken surface, twenty to forty feet high, containing very great numbers of a large univalve shell, which appears to belong to the genus inoceramas, and in the appendix is designated by the No. 42. In contact with this, to the westward, was another stratum of limestone, containing fossil shells of a different character ; and still higher up on the stream were parallel strata, consisting of a compact somewhat crystalline limestone, and argillaceous bituminous limestone in thin layers. During the morning, we travelled up the eastern fork of the Fontaine-qui-bouit river, our road being roughened by frequent deep gullies timbered with pine, and halted to noon on a small branch of this stream, timbered prin- cipally with the narrow-leaved cottonwood, ( populus angustifolia ,) called by the Canadians Hard arnlre . On a hill, near by, were two remarkable columns of a grayish-white conglomerate rock, one of which was about twenty feet high, and two feet in diameter. They are surmounted by slabs of a dark ferruginous conglomerate, forming black caps, and adding very much to their columnar effect at a distance. This rock is very destructible by the action of the weather, and the hill, of which they formerly consti- tuted a part, is entirely abraded. A shaft of the gun carriage was broken in the afternoon ; and we made an early halt, the stream being from twelve to twenty feet wide, with clear water. As usual, the clouds had gathered to a storm over the mountains, and we had a showery evening. At sunset the thermometer stood at 62°, and our elevation above the sea was 6,530 feet. 119 [ 174 J July 20. — This morning (as we generally found the mornings under these mountains) was very clear and beautiful, and the air cool and pleas- ant, with the thermometer at 44°. We continued our march up the stream, along a green sloping bottom, between pine hills on the one hand, and the main Black hills on the other, towards the ridge which separates the waters of the Platte from those of the Arkansas. As we approached the dividing ridge, the whole valley was radiant with flowers ; blue, yellow, pink, white, scarlet, and purple, vied with each other in splendor. Esparcette was one of the highly characteristic plants, and a bright-looking flower ( gaillardia arislata ) was very frequent ; but the most abundant plant along our road to-day was geranium macula turn , which is the characteristic plant on this portion of the dividing grounds. Crossing to the waters of the Platte, fields of blue flax added to the magnificence of this mountain garden; this was occasionally four feet in height, which was a luxuriance of growth that I rarely saw this almost universal plant attain throughout the journey. Con- tinuing down a branch of the Platte, among high and very steep timbered hills, covered with fragments of rock, towards evening we issued from the piney region, and made a late encampment near Poundcake rock, on that fork of the river which we had ascended on the 8th of July. Our animals enjoyed the abundant rushes this evening, as the flies were so bad among the pines that they had been much harassed. A .deer was killed here this evening; and again the evening was overcast, and a collection of brilliant red clouds in the west was followed by the customary squall of rain. Jlchillea millefolium (milfoil) was among the characteristic plants of the river bottoms to-day. This was one of the most common plants during the whole of our journey, occurring in almost every variety of situation. I noticed it on the lowlands of the rivers, near the coast of the Pacific, and near to the snow among the mountains of the Sierra Nevada. During this excursion, we had surveyed to its head one of the two prin- cipal branches of the upper Arkansas, 75 miles in length, and entirely completed our survey of the South fork of the Platte, to the extreme sources of that portion of the river which belongs to the plains, and heads in the broken hills of the Arkansas dividing ridge, at the foot of the mountains. That portion of its waters which were collected among these mountains, it was hoped to explore on our homeward voyage. Reaching St. Vrain’s fort on the morning of the 23d, we found Mr. Fitz- patrick and his party in good order and excellent health, and my true and reliable friend, Kit. Carson, who had brought with him ten good mules, with the necessary pack saddles. Mr. Fitzpatrick, who had often endured every extremity of want during the course of his mountain life, and knew well the value of provisions in this country, had watched over our stock with jealous vigilance, and there was an abundance of flour, rice, sugar, and coffee, in the camp ; and again we fared luxuriously. Meat was, however, very scarce ; and two very small pigs, which we obtained at the fort, did not go far among forty men. Mr. Fitzpatrick had been here a week, dur- ing which time his men had been occupied in refitting the camp ; and the repose had been very beneficial to his animals, which were now in tolera- bly good condition. I had been able to obtain no certain information in regard to the charac- ter of the passes in this portion of the Rocky mountain range, which had always been represented as impracticable for carriages, but the exploration of which was incidentally contemplated by my instructions, with the view 120 C H4 ] of finding some convenient point of passage for the road of emigration, which would enable it to reach, on a more direct line, the usual ford of the Great Colorado — a place considered as determined by the nature of the country beyond that river. It is singular that, immediately at the foot of the mountains, I could find no one sufficiently acquainted with them to guide us to the plains at their western base ; but the race of trappers, who formerly lived in their recesses, has almost entirely disappeared — dwindled to a few scattered individuals— some one or two of whom are regularly killed in the course of each year by the Indians. You will remember that, in the previous year, I brought with me to their village near this post, and hospitably treated on the way, several Cheyenne Indians, whom I had met on the Lower Platte. Shortly after their arrival here, these were out with a party of Indians, (themselves the principal men,) which discovered a few trappers in the neighboring mountains, whom they immediately murdered, although one of them had been nearly thirty years in the country, and was perfectly well known, as he had grown gray among them. Through this portion of the mountains, also, are the customary roads of the war parties going out against the Utah and Shoshonee Indians; and occasionally parties from the Crow nation make their way down to the southward along this chain, in the expectation of surprising some strag- gling lodges of their enemies. Shortly before our arrival, one of thei» par- ties had attacked an Arapaho village in the vicinity, which they had found unexpectedly strong; and their assault was turned into a rapid flight and a hot pursuit, in which they had been compelled to abandon the animals they had rode, and escape on their war horses. Into this uncertain and dangerous region, small parties of three or four trappers, who now could collect together, rarely ventured; and consequently it was seldom visited and little known. Having determined to try the passage by a pass through a spur of the mountains made #y the Cache-a- la Poudre river, which rises in the high bed of mountains around Long’s peak, I thought it advisable to avoid any encumbrance which would oc- casion detention, and accordingly again separated the party into two divi- sions — one of which, under the command of Mr. Fitzpatrick, was.directed to cross the plains to the mouth of Laramie river, and, continuing thence its route along the usual emigrant road, meet me at Fort Hall, a post be- longing to the Hudson Bay Company, and situated on Snake river, as it is commonly called in the Oregon Territory, although better known to us as Lewis’s fork of the Columbia. The latter name is there restricted to one of the upper forks of the river. Our Delaware Indians having determined to return to their homes, it be- came necessary to provide this party with a good hunter ; and I accordingly engaged in that capacity Alexander Godey, a young man about 25 years of age, who had been in this country six or seven years, all of which time had been actively employed in hunting for the support of the posts, or in solitary trading expeditions among the Indians. In courage and profes- sional skill he was a formidable rival to Carson, and constantly afterwards was among the best and most efficient of the party, and in difficult situa- tions was of incalculable value. Hiram Powers, one of the men belonging to Mr. Fitzpatrick’s party, was discharged at this place. A French engage, at Lupton’s fort, had been shot in the back on the 4th of July, and died during our absence to the Arkansas. The wife of the murdered man, an Indian woman of the Snake nation, desirous, like Naomi 121 [ 174 ] of old, to return to her people, requested and obtained permission to travel with my party to the neighborhood of Bear river, where she expected to meet with some of their villages. Happier than the Jewish widow, she carried with her two children, pretty little half-breeds, who added much to the liveliness of the camp. Her baggage was carried on five or six pack horses; and I gave her a small tent, for which I no longer had any use, as I had procured a lodge at the fort. For my own party I selected the following men, a number of whom old associations rendered agreeable to me: Charles Preuss, Christopher Carson, Basil Lajeunesse, Frangois Badeau, J. B. Bernier, Louis Menard, Raphael Prone, Jacob Dodson, Louis Zindel, Henry Lee, J. B. Derosier, Frangois Lajeunesse, and Auguste Vasquez. By observation, the latitude of the post is 40° 16' 33", and its longitude 105° 12' 23", depending, with all the other longitudes along this portion of the line, upon a subsequent occultation of September 13, 1843, to which they are referred by the chronometer. Its distance from Kansas landing, by the road we travelled, (which, it will be remembered, was very winding along the lower Kansas river,) was 750 miles. The rate of the chronometer, determined by observations at this place for the interval of our absence, during this month, was 33.72", which you will hereafter see did not sensibly change during the ensuing month, and remained nearly constant during the remainder of our journey across the continent. This was the rate used in referring to St Vrain’s fort, the longitude between that place and the mouth of the Fontaine- qui-bouit . Our various barometrical observations, which are better worthy of con- fidence than the isolated determination of 1S42, give, for the elevation of the fort above the sea, 4,930 feet. The barometer here used was also a better one, and less liable to derangement. At the end of two days, which was allowed to my animals for necessary repose, all the arrangements had been completed, and on the afternoon of the 26th we resumed our respective routes. Some little trouble was ex- perienced in crossing the Platte, the waters of which were still kept up by rains and melting snow ; and having travelled only about four miles, we encamped in the evening on Thompson’s creek, where we were very much disturbed by musquitoes. The following days we continued our march westward over comparative plains, and, fording the Cache-d-la-Poudre on the morning of the 28th, en- tered the Black hills, and nooned on this stream in the mountains beyond them. Passing over a fine large bottom in the afternoon, we reached a place where the river was shut up in the hills ; and, ascending a ravine, made a laborious and very difficult passage around by a gap, striking the river again about dusk. A little labor, however, would remove this diffi- culty, and render the road to this point a very excellent one. The evening closed in dark with rain, and the mountains looked gloomy. July 29. — Leaving our encampment about 7 in the morning, we travelled until 3 in the afternoon along the river, which, for this distance of about six miles, runs directly through a spur of the main mountains. We were compelled by the nature of the ground to cross the river eight or nine times, at difficult, deep, and rocky fords, the stream running with great force, swollen by the rains — a true mountain torrent, only forty or fifty feet wide. It was a mountain valley of the narrowest kind — almost a chasm; and the scenery very wild and beautiful. Towering mountains rose 122 [ 174 ] round about ; their sides sometimes dark with forests of pine, and sometimes with lofty precipices, washed by the river; while below, as if they indem- nified themselves in luxuriance for the scanty space, the green river bot- tom was covered with a wilderness of flowers, their tall spikes sometimes rising above our heads as we rode among them. A profusion of blossoms , on a white flowering vine, {clematis lasianthi,) which was abundant along the river, contrasted handsomely with the green foliage of the trees. The mountain appeared to be composed of a greenish gray and red granite, which in some places appeared to be in a state of decomposition, making a red soil. The stream was wooded with cottonwood, box elder, and cherry, with currant and serviceberry bushes. After a somewhat laborious day, during which it had rained incessantly, we encamped near the end of the pass at the mouth of a small creek, in, sight of the great Laramie plains. It con- tinued to rain heavily, and at evening the mountains were hid in mists; but there was no lack of wood, and the large fires we made to dry our clothes were very comfortable; and at night the hunters came in with a fine deer. Rough and difficult as we found the pass to-day, an excellent road may be made with a little labor. Elevation of the camp 5,540 feet, and distance from St. Vrain’s fort 56 miles. July 30. — The day was bright again ; the thermometer at sunrise 52°; and leaving our encampment at 8 o’clock, in about half a mile we crossed the Cdche-d-la-Poudre river for the last time; and, entering a smoother country, we travelled along a kind of vallon , bounded on the right by red buttes and precipices, while to the left a high rolling country extended to a 'i range of the Black hills, beyond which rose the great mountains around Long’s peak. By the great quantity of snow visible among them, it had probably snow- ed heavily there the previous day, while it had rained on us in the valley. We halted at noon on a small branch ; and in the afternoon travelled over a high country, gradually ascending towards a range of buttes , or high hills covered with pines, which forms the dividing ridge between the waters we had left and those of Laramie river. Late in the evening we encamped at a spring of cold water, near the summit of the ridge, having increased our elevation to 7,520 feet. During the day we had travelled 24 miles. By some indifferent observations, our latitude is 41° 02' 19". A species of hedeome was characteristic along the whole day’s route. Emerging from the mountains, we entered a region of bright, fair Aveather. In my experience in this country, I was forcibly impressed with the different character of the climate on opposite sides of the Rocky moun- tain range. The vast prairie plain on the east is like the ocean ; the rain and clouds from the constantly evaporating snow of the mountains rushing down into the heated air of the plains, on which you will have occasion to remark the frequent storms of rain Ave encountered during our journey. July 31. — The morning Avas clear ; temperature 48°. A fine rolling road, among piney and grassy hills, brought us this morning into a large trail where an Indian village had recently passed. The Aveather Avas pleasant and cool ; Ave were disturbed by neither musquitoes nor flies; and the country Avas certainly extremely beautiful. The slopes and broad ravines were absolutely covered with fields of flowers of the most exquisitely beauti- ful colors. Among those which had not hitherto made their appearance, and Avhich here were characteristic, was a new delphinium , of a green and 123 [ 174 ] lustrous metallic blue color, mingled with compact fields of several bright- colored varieties of astragalus , which were crowded together in splendid profusion. This trail conducted us through a remarkable defile, to a little timbered creek, up which we wound our way, passing by a singular and massive wall of dark-red granite. The formation of the country is a red feldspathic granite, overlying a decomposing mass of the same rock, form- ing the soil of all this region, which every where is red and gravelly, and appears to be of a great floral fertility. As we emerged on a small tributary of the Laramie river, coming in sight of its principal stream, the flora became perfectly magnificent ; and we congratulated ourselves, as we rode along our pleasant road, that we had substituted this for the uninteresting country between Laramie hills and the Sweet Water valley. We had no meat for supper last night or breakfast this morning, and were glad to see Carson come in at noon with a good antelope. A meridian observation of the sun placed us in latitude 41° 04' 06" In the evening, we encamped on the Laramie river, which is here very thinly timbered with scattered groups of cottonwood at considerable intervals. From our camp, we are able to distinguish the gorges, in which are the sources of Cache-a-la-Poudre and Laramie rivers ; and the Medicine Bow mountain, toward the point of which we are directing our course this after- noon, has been in sight the greater part of the day. By observation, the latitude was 41° 15' 02", and longitude 106° 16' 54". The same beautiful flora continued till about 4 in the afternoon, when it suddenly disappeared, with the red soil, which became sandy and of a whitish-gray color. The evening was tolerably clear; temperature at sunset 64°. The day’s jour- ney was 30 miles. August 1 . — The morning was calm and clear, with sunrise temperature at 42°. We travelled to-day over a plain, or open rolling country, at the foot of the Medicine Bow mountain; the soil in the morning being sandy, with fragments of rock abundant ; and in the afternoon, when we ap- proached closer to the mountain, so stony that we made but little way. The beautiful plants, of yesterday reappeared occasionally; flax in bloom occurred during the morning, and esparcette in luxuriant abundance wasa characteristic of the stony ground in the afternoon. The camp was roused into a little excitement by a chase after a buffalo bull, and an encounter with a war party of Sioux and Cheyenne Indians about 30 strong. Hares and antelope were seen during the day, and one of the latter was killed. The Laramie peak was in sight this afternoon. The evening was clear, with scattered clouds: temperature 62°. The day’s journey was 26 miles. . v August 2 . — 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 spots like lawns between the patches of snow among the pines, and here and there on the heights. Our route below lay over a comparative plain, covered with the same brilliant vegetation, and the day was clear and pleas- antly cool. During the morning, we crossed many streams, clear and rocky, and broad grassy valleys, of a strong black soil, washed down from the mountains, and producing excellent pasturage. These were timbered with the red willow and long-leaved cottonwood, mingled with aspen, as we ap- proached the mountain more nearly towards noon. Esparcette was a char- 124 [ 174 ] acteristic, and flax occurred frequently in bloom. We halted at noon on the most western fork of Laramie river — a’ handsome stream about sixty feet wide and two feet deep, with clear water and a swift current, over a bed composed entirely of boulders or roll stones. There was a large open bottom here, on which were many lodge poles lying about ; and in the edge of the surrounding timber were three strong forts, that appeared to have been recently occupied. At this place I became first acquainted with the yampah , ( anethum graveolens ,) which I found our Snake woman en- gaged in digging in the low timbered bottom of the creek. Among the In- dians along the Rocky mountains, and more particularly among the Sho- shonee or Snake Indians, in whose territory it is very abundant, this is considered the best among the roots used for food. *To us, it was an in- teresting plant — a little link between the savage and civilized life. Here, among the Indians, its root is a common article of food, which they take pleasure in offering to strangers; while with us, in a considerable portion of America and Europe, the seeds are used to flavor soup. It grows more abundantly, and in greater luxuriance, on one of the neighboring tributa- ries of the Colorado than in any other part of this region ; and on that stream, to which the Snakes are accustomed to resort every year to procure a supply of their favorite plant, they have bestowed the name of Yampah river. Among the trappeis, it is generally known as Little Snake river; but in this and other instances, where it illustrated the history of the peo- ple inhabiting the country, I have preferred to retain on the map the abo- riginal name. By a meridional observation, the latitude is 41° 45' 59". In the afternoon we took our way directly across the spurs from the point of the mountain, where we had several ridges to cross ; and, al- though the road was not rendered bad by the nature of the ground, it was made extremely rough by the stiff tough bushes of artemisin tridentata ,* in this country commonly called sage. This shrub now began to make its appearance in compact fields ; and we were about to quit for a long time this country of excellent pasturage and brilliant flowers. Ten or twelve buffalo bulls were seen during the afternoon ; and we were surprised by the appearance of a large red ox. We gathered around him as if he had been an old acquaintance, with all our domestic feelings as much awakened as if we had come in sight of an old farm house. He had probably made his escape from some party of emigrants on Green river; and, with a vivid remembrance of some old green field, he was pursuing the straightest course for the frontier that the country admitted. We carried him along with us as a prize; and, when it was found in the morning that he had wandered off, I would not let him be pursued, for I would rather have gone through a starving time of three entire days, than let him be killed after he had successfully run the gaunt- let so far among the Indians. I have been told by Mr. Bent’s people of an ox born and raised at St. Vrain’sfort, which made his escape from them at Elm grove, near the frontier, having come in that year with the wagons. They were on their way out, and saw occasionally places where he had eaten and lain down to rest ; but did not see him for about 700 miles, when they overtook him on the road, travelling along to the fort, having unac- countably escaped Indians and every other mischance. * The greater portion of our subsequent journey was through a region where this shrub consti- tuted the tree of the country ; and, as it will often be mentioned in occasional descriptions, the word artemisia only will be used, without the specific name. 125 [ 174 ] We encamped at evening on the principal fork of Medicine Bow river, near to an isolated mountain called the Medicine Butte , which appeared to be about 1,S00 feet above the plain, from which it rises abruptly, and was still white, nearly to its base, with a great quantity of snow. The streams were timbered with the long-leaved cottonwood and red willow ; and dur- ing the afternoon a species of onion was very abundant. I obtained here an immersion of the first ’satellite of Jupiter, which, corresponding very nearly with the chronometer, placed us in longitude 106° 47' 25". The latitude, by observation, was 41° 37' 16"; elevation above the sea, 7,800 feet; and distance from St. Vrain’s fort, 147 miles. •August 3. — There was a white frost last night ; the morning is clear and cool. We were early on the road, having breakfasted before sunrise, and in a few miles travel entered the pass of the Medicine Butte, through which led a broad trail, which had been recently travelled by a very large party. Immediately in the pass, the road was broken by ravines, and we were obliged to clear a way through groves of aspens, which generally made their appearance when we reached elevated regions. According to the ba- rometer, this was S,300 feet ; and while we were detained in opening a road, I obtained a meridional observation of the sun, which gave 41° 35' 48" for the latitude of the pass. The Medicine Butte is isolated by a small tributary of the North fork of the Platte, but the mountains approach each other very nearly ; the stream running at their feet. On the south they are smooth, with occasional streaks of pine ; but the butte itself is ragged, with escarpments of red feldspathic granite, and dark with pines ; the snow reaching from the summit to within a few hundred feet of the trail. The granite here was more compact and durable than that in the formation which we had passed through a few days before to the eastward of Lara- mie. Continuing our way over a plaiu on the west side of the pass, where the road was terribly rough with artemisia, we made our evening encamp- ment on the creek, where it took a northern direction, unfavorable to the course we were pursuing. Bands of buffalo were discovered as we came down upon the plain ; and Carson brought into the camp a cow which had the fat on the fleece two inches thick. Even in this country of rich pas- turage and abundant game, it is rare that the hunter chances upon a finer animal. Our voyage had already been long, but this was the first good buffalo meat we had obtained. We travelled to-day 26 miles, August 4. — The morning was clear and calm ; and, leaving the creek, we travelled towards the North fork of the Platte, over a plain which was rendered rough and broken by ravines. With the exception of some thin grasses, the sandy soil here was occupied almost exclusively by artemisia, with its usual turpentine odor. We had expected to meet with some diffi- culty in crossing the river, but happened to strike it where there was a very excellent ford, and halted to noon on the left bank, 200 miles from St. Vrain’s fort. The hunters brought in pack animals loaded with fine meat. According to our imperfect knowledge of the country, there should have been a small affluent to this stream a few miles higher up ; and in the after- noon we continued our way among the river hills, in the expectation of en- camping upon it in the evening. The ground proved to be so exceedingly difficult, broken up into hills, terminating in escarpments and broad ravines, 500 or 600 feet deep, with sides so precipitous that we could scarcely find a place to descend, that, towards sunset, I turned directly in towards the river, and, after nightfall, entered a sort of ravine. We were obliged to feel 126 [ 174 ] our way, and clear a road in the darkness ; the surface being much broken, and the progress of the carriages being greatly obstructed by the artemisia, which had a luxuriant growth of four to six feet in height. We had scrambled along this gully for several hours, during which we had knocked off the carriage lamps, broken a thermometer and several small articles, when, fearing to lose something of more importance, I halted for the night at 10 o’clock. Our animals were turned down towards the river, that they might pick up what little grass they could find ; and after a little search, some water was found in a small ravine, and improved by digging. We lighted up the ravine with fires of. artemisia, and about midnight sat down to a supper which we were hungry enough to find delightful — although the buffalo meat was crusted with sand, and the coffee was bitter with the wormwood taste of the artemisia leaves. A successful day’s hunt had kept our hunters occupied until late, and they slept out, but rejoined us at daybreak, when, finding ourselves only about a mile from the river, we followed the ravine down, and camped in a cottonwood grove on a beautiful grassy bottom, where our animals indem- nified themselves for the scanty fare of the past night. It was quite a pretty and pleasant place ; a narrow strip of prairie about five hundred yards long terminated at the ravine where we entered by high precipitous hills closing in upon the river, and at the upper end by a ridge of low rolling hills. In the precipitous bluffs were displayed a succession of strata containing fossil vegetable remains, and several beds of coal. In some of the beds the coaL did not appear to be perfectly mineralized ; and in some of the seams, it was compact and remarkably lustrous. In these latter places there were also thin layers of a very fine white salts, in powder. As we had a large supply of meat in the camp, which it was necessary to dry, and the sur- rounding country appeared to be well stocked with buffalo, which it was probable, after a day or two, we would not see again until our return to the Mississippi waters, I determined to make here a provision of dried meat, which would be necessary for our subsistence in the region we were about entering, which was said to be nearly destitute of game. Scaffolds were accordingly soon erected, fires made, and the meat cut into thin slices to be dried; and all were busily occupied, when the camp was thrown into a sudden tumult, by a charge from about 70 mounted Indians, over the low hills at the upper end of the little bottom. Fortunately, the guard, who was between them and our animals, had caught a glimpse of an Indian’s head, as he raised himself in his stirrups to look over the hill, a moment before he made the charge ; and succeeded in turning the band into the camp, as the Indians charged into the bottom with the usual yell. Before they reached us, the grove on the verge of the little bottom was occupied by our people, and the Indians brought to a sudden halt, which they made in time to save themselves from a howitzer shot, which would undoubtedly have been very effective in such a compact body; and further proceedings were interrupted by their signs for peace. They proved to be a war party of Arapaho and Cheyenne Indians, and informed us that they had charged upon the camp under the belief that we were hostile Indians, and had dis- covered their mistake only at the moment of the attack — an excuse which policy required us to receive as true, though under the full conviction that the display of our little howitzer, and our favorable position in the grove, certainly saved our horses, and probably ourselves, from their marauding intentions. They had been on a war party, and had been defeated, and 127 [ 174 ] were consequently in the state of mind which aggravates their innate thirst for plunder and blood. Their excuse, however, was taken in good part, and the usual evidences of friendship interchanged. The pipe went round, provisions were spread, and the tobacco and goods furnished the customary presents, which they look for even from traders, and much more from Government authorities. They were returning from an expedition against the Shoshonee Indians, one of whose villages they had surprised, at Bridger’s fort, on Ham’s fork of Green river, (in the absence of the men, who were engaged in an ante- lope surround,) and succeeded in carrying off their horses and taking several scalps. News of the attack reached the Snakes immediately, who pursued and overtook them, and recovered their horses ; and, in the running fight which ensued, the Arapahos had lost several men killed, and a num- ber wounded, who were coming on more slowly with a party in the rear. Nearly all the horses they had brought off were the property of the whites at the fort. After remaining until nearly sunset, they took their departure; and the excitement which their arrival had afforded subsided into our usual quiet, a little enlivened by the vigilance rendered necessary by the neigh- borhood of our uncertain visiters. At noon the thermometer was at 75°, at sunset 70°, and the evening clear. Elevation above the sea 6,820 feet ; latitude 41° 36' 00"; longitude 107° 22' 27". August 6. — At sunrise the thermometer was 46°, the morning being clear and calm. We travelled to-day over an extremely rugged country, barren and uninteresting — nothing to be seen but artemisia bushes ; and, in the evening, found a grassy spot among the hills, kept green by several springs, where we encamped late. Within a few hundred yards was a very pretty little stream of clear cool water, whose green banks looked refreshing among the dry rocky hills. The hunters brought in a fat mountain sheep, {ovis moniana.) Our road the next day was through a continued and dense field of arte - misia , which now entirely covered the country in such a luxuriant growth that it was difficult and laborious for a man on foot to force his way through, and nearly impracticable for our light carriages. The region through which we were travelling was a high plateau, constituting the di- viding ridge between the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, and extending to a considerable distance southward, from the neighborhood of the Table rock, at the southern side of the South Pass. Though broken lip into rugged and rocky hills of a dry and barren nature, it has nothing of a mountainous character; the small streams which occasionally occur belonging neither to the Platte nor the Colorado, but losing themselves either in the sand or in small lakes. From an eminence, in the afternoon, a mountainous range became visible in the north, in which were recog- nised some rocky peaks belonging to the range of the Sweet Water valley; and, determining to abandon any further attempt to struggle through this almost impracticable country, we turned our course directly north, towards a pass in the valley of the Sweet Water river. A shaft of the gun carriage was broken during the afternoon, causing a considerable delay; and it was late in an unpleasant evening before we succeeded in finding a very poor encampment, where there was a little water in a deep trench of a creek, and some scanty grass among the shrubs. All the game here consisted in a few straggling buffalo bulls, and during the day there had been but very 128 [ 174 ] little grass, except in some green spots where it had collected around springs or shallow lakes. Within fifty miles of the Sweet Water, the country changed into a vast saline plain, in many places extremely level, occasion- ally resembling the flat sandy beds of shallow lakes. Here the vegetation consisted of a shrubby growth, among which were several varieties of chenopodiaceous plahts; but the characteristic shrub was Fremontia ver - micularis , with smaller saline shrubs growing with singular luxuriance, and in many places holding exclusive possession of the ground. On the evening of the 8th, we encamped on one of these fresh-water lakes, which the traveller considers himself fortunate to find ; and the next day, in latitude by observation 42° 20' 06", halted to noon immediately at the foot of the southern side of the range which walls in the Sweet Water valley, on the head of a small tributary to that river. Continuing in the afternoon our course down the stream, which here cuts directly through the ridge, forming a very practicable pass, we entered the valley ; and, after a march of about nine miles, encamped on our famil- iar river, endeared to us by the acquaintance of the previous expedition; the night having already closed in with a cold rain storm. Our camp was about twenty miles above the Devil’s gate, which we had been able to see in coming down the plain : and, in the course of the night, the clouds broke away around Jupiter for a short time, during which we obtained an im- mersion of the first satellite, the result of which agreed very nearly with the chronometer, giving for the mean longitude 107° 50’ 07"; elevation above the sea 6,040 feet; and distance from St. Vrain’s fort, by the road we had just travelled, 315 miles. Here passes the road to Oregon ; and the broad smooth highway, where the numerous heavy wagons of the emigrants had entirely beaten and crushed the artemisia, was a happy exchange to our poor animals for the sharp rocks and tough shrubs among which they had been toiling so long; and we moved up the valley rapidly and pleasantly. With very little de- viation from our route of the preceding year, we continued up the valley; and on the evening of the 12th encamped on the Sweet Water, at a point where the road turns off to cross to the plains of Green river. The increased coolness of the weather indicated that we had attained a great elevation, which the barometer here placed at 7,220 feet ; and during the night water froze in the lodge. The morning of the 13t>h was clear and cold, there being a white frost; and the thermometer, a little before sunrise, standing at 26.5°. Leaving this encampment, (our last on the waters which flow towards the rising sun,) we took our way along the upland, towards the dividing ridge which separates the Atlantic from the Pacific waters, and crossed it by a road some miles further south than the one we had followed on our return in 1842. We crossed very near the table mountain, at the southern extremity of the South Pass, which is near twenty miles in width, and already traversed by several different, roads. Selecting as well as I could, in the scarcely distin- guishable ascent, what might be considered the dividing ridge in this re- ! markable depression in the mountain, I took a barometrical observation, which gave 7,490 feet for the elevation above the Gulf of Mexico. You will remember that, in my report of 1842, 1 estimated the elevation of this pass at about 7,000 feet ; a correct observation with a good barometer ena- bles me now to give it with more precision. Its importance, as the great gate through which commerce and travelling may hereafter pass between 129 [ 174 2 the valley of the Mississippi and the north Pacific, justifies a precise notice of its locality and distance from leading points, in addition to this statement of its elevation. As stated in the report of 1842, its latitude at the point where we crossed is 42° 24' 32" ; its longitude 109° 26' 00"; its distance from the mouth of the Kansas, by the common travelling route, 962 miles; from the mouth of the Great Platte, along the valley of that river, according to our survey of 1842, 882 miles ; and its distance from St. Louis about 400 miles more by the Kansas, and about 700 by the Great Platte route ; these additions being steamboat conveyance in both instances. From this pass to the mouth of the Oregon is about 1,400 miles by the common travelling route ; so that, under a general point of view, it may be assumed to be about half way between the Mississippi and the Pacific ocean, on the common travelling route. Following a hollow of slight and easy descent, in which was very soon formed a little tributary to the Gulf of California, (for the waters which flow west from the South Pass go to this gulf,) we made our usual halt four miles from the pass, in latitude by observation 42° 19' 53". Entering here the valley of Green river — the great Colorado of the West — and inclining very much to the southward along the streams which form the Sandy river, the road led for several days over dry and level uninter- esting plains; to which a low, scrubby growth of artemisia gave a uniform dull grayish color; and on the evening of the 15th we encamped in the Mexican territory, on the left bank of Green river, 69 miles from the South Pass, in longitude 110° 05' 05", and latitude 41° 53' 54", distant 1.031 miles from the mouth of the Kansas. This is the emigrant road to Oregon, which bears much to the southward, to avoid the mountains about the western heads of Green river— the Rio Verde of the Spaniards. August 16. — Crossing the river, here about 400 feet wide, by a very good ford, we continued to descend for seven or eight miles on a pleasant road along the right bank of the stream, of which the islands and shores are hand- somely timbered with cottonwood. The refreshing appearance of the broad river, with its timbered shores and green wooded islands, in contrast to its dry sandy plains, probably obtained for it the name of Green river, which was bestowed on it by the Spaniards who first came into this country to trade some 25 years ago. It was then familiarly known as the Seeds-ke- dee-agie, or Prairie Hen (tetrao urophasiauus) river ; a name which it re- ceived from the Crows, to whom its upper waters belong, and on which this bird is still very abundant. By the Shoshonee and Utah Indians, to whom belongs, for a considerable distance below, the country where we were now travelling, it was called the Bitter Root river, from the great abundance in its valley of a plant which affords them one of their favorite roots. Lower clown, from Brown’s hole to the southward, the river runs through lofty chasms, walled in by precipices of red rock; and even among the wilder tribes who inhabit that portion of its course, I have heard it called by Indian refugees from the Californian settlements the Rio Colorado. We halted to noon at the upper end of a large bottom, near some old houses, which had been a trading post, in latitude 41° 46' 54". At this place the elevation of the river above the sea is 6,230 feet. That of Lewis’s fork of the Columbia at Fort Hall is, according to our subsequent observations, 4,500 feet. The descent of each stream is rapid, but that of the Colorado is but little known, and that little derived from vague report. Three hundred miles of its lower part, as it approaches the gulf of California, is reported to be smooth, and tranquil ; but its upper part is manifestly broken into many falls 9 130 l ^4 ] and rapids. From many descriptions of trappers, it is probable that in its foaming course among its lofty precipices it presents many scenes of wild grandeur; and though offering many temptations, and often discussed, no trappers have been found bold enough to undertake a voyage which has so certain a prospect of a fatal termination. The Indians have strange stories of beautiful valleys abounding with beaver, shut up among inaccessible walls of rock in the lower course of the river ; and to which the neighbor- ing Indians, in their occasional wars with the Spaniards, and among them- selves, drive their herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, leaving them to pas- ture in perfect security. The road here leaves the river, which bends considerably to the east ; and in the afternoon we resumed our westerly course, passing over a somewhat high and broken country ; and about sunset, after a day’s travel of 26 miles, reached Black’s fork of the Green river — a shallow stream, with a some- what sluggish current, about 120 feet wide, timbered principally with wil- low, and here and there an occasional large tree. At 3 in the morning I obtained an observation of an emersion of the first satellite of Jupiter, with other observations. The heavy wagons have so completely pulverized the soil, that clouds of fine light dust are raised by the slightest wind, making the road sometimes very disagreeable. August 17. — Leaving our encampment at 6 in the morning, we travelled along the bottom, which is about two -miles wide, bordered by low hills, in which the strata contained handsome and very distinct vegetable fossils. In a gully a short distance farther up the river, and underlying these, was ex- posed a stratum of an impure or argillaceous limestone. Crossing on the way Black’s fork, where it is one foot deep and forty wide, with clear water and a pebbly bed, in nine miles we reached Ham’s fork, a tributary to the former stream, having now about sixty feet breadth, and a few inches depth of water. It is wooded with thickets of red willow, and in the bottom is a tolerably strong growth of grass. The road here makes a traverse of twelve miles across a bend of the river. Passing in the way some remarkable hills, two or three hundred feet high, with frequent and nearly vertical escarp- ments of a green stone, consisting of an argillaceous carbonate of lime, al- ternating with strata of an iron brown limestone, and worked into pictur- esque forms by wind and rain, at 2 in the afternoon we reached the river again, having made to-day 21 miles. Since crossing the great dividing ridge of the Rocky mountains, plants have been very few in variety, the country being covered principally with artemisia. August 18. — We passed on the road, this morning, the grave of one of the emigrants, being the second we had seen since falling into their trail ; and halted to noon on the river, a short distance above. The Shoshonee woman took leave of us here, expecting to find some of her relations at Bridget’s fort, which is only a mile or two distant, on a fork of this stream. In the evening we encamped on a salt creek, about fifteen feet wide, having to-day travelled 32 miles. I obtained an emersion of the first satellite under favorable circumstances, the night being still and clear. One of our mules died here, and in this portion of our journey we lost six or seven of our animals. The grass which the country had lately af- forded was very poor and insufficient ; and animals which have been ac- customed to grain become soon weak and unable to labor, when reduced to ■no other nourishment than grass. The American horses (as those are 131 [ 174 3 usually called which are brought to this country from the States) are not of any serviceable value until after they have remained a winter in the coun- try, and become accustomed to live entirely on grass. t August 19. — Desirous to avoid every delay not absolutely necessary, I sent on Carson in advance to Fort Hall this morning, to make arrangements for a small supply of provisions. A few miles from our encampment, the road entered a high ridge, which the trappers called the “little mountain, 5f connecting the Utah with the Wind river chain ; and in one of the hills near which we passed I remarked strata of a conglomerate formation, frag- ments uf which were scattered over the surface. We crossed a ridge of this conglomerate, the road passing near a grove of low cedar, and de- scended upon one of the heads of Ham’s fork, called Muddy, where we made our midday halt. In the river hills at this place, I discovered strata of fossilliferous rock, having an oolitic, structure, whicn, in connexion with the neighboring strata, authorize us to believe that here, on the west side of the Rocky mountains, we find repeated the modern formations of Great Britain and Europe, which have hitherto been wanting to complete the system of North American geology. The specimens from this locality are designated in the appendix by the numbers 64, 68, and 74. In the afternoon we continued our road, and, searching among the hills a few miles up the stream, and on. the same bank, I discovered, among alter- nating beds of coal and clay, a stratum of white indurated clay, containing very clear and beautiful impressions of vegetable remains. This was the most interesting fossil locality I had met in the country, and I deeply re- gretted that time did not permit me to remain a day or two in the vicinity; but I could not anticipate the delays to which I might be exposed in the course of our journey — or, rather, I knew that they were many and inevi- table; and after remaining here only about an hour, I hurried off, loaded with as many specimens as I could conveniently carry. Coal made its appearance occasionally in the hills during the afternoon* and was displayed in rabbit burrows in a kind of gap, through which we passed over some high hills, and we descended to make our encampment on the same streem, where we found but very poor grass. In the evening a fine cow, with her calf, which had strayed off from some emigrant party* were found several miles from the road, and brought into camp ; and as she gave an abundance of milk, we enjoyed to-night an excellent cup of coffee. We travelled to-day 28 miles, and, as has been usual since crossing the Green river, the road has been very dusty, and the weather smoky and oppressively hot. Artemisia was characteristic among the few plants. August 20. — We continued to travel up the creek by a very gradual ascent and a very excellent grassy road, passing on the way several small forks of the stream. The hills here are higher, presenting escarpments of parti-colored and apparently clay rocks, purple, dark red, and yellow, con- taining strata of sandstone and limestone with shells, with a bed of cement- ed pebbles, the whole overlaid by beds of limestone. The alternation of red and yellow gives a bright appearance to the hills, one of which was called by our people the Rainbow hill ; and the character of the country became more agreeable, and travelling far more pleasant, as now we found timber and very good grass. Gradually ascending, we reached the lower level of a bed of white limestone, lying upon a white clay, on the upper line of whick the whole road is abundantly supplied with beautiful cool springs, gushing 132 C 174 ] out a foot in breadth and several inches deep, directly from the hill side. At noon we halted at the last main fork of the creek, at an elevation of 7,200 feet, and in latitude, by observation, 41® 39' 45" ; and in the afternoon con- tinued on the same excellent road, up the left or northern fork of the Stream, towards its head, in a pass which the barometer placed at 8,230 feet above the sea. This is a connecting ridge between the Utah or Bear river mountains and the Wind river chain of the Rocky mountains, separating the waters of the gulf of California on the east, and those on the west be- longing more directly to the Pacific, from a vast interior basin whose rivers are collected into numerous lakes having no outlet to the ocean. From the summit of this pass, the highest which the road crosses between the Missis- sippi and the Western ocean, our view was over a very mountainous region, whose rugged appearance was greatly increased by the smoky weather, through which the broken ridges were dark and dimly seen. The ascent to the summit of the gap was occasionally steeper than the national road in the Alleghanies ; and the descent, by way of a spur on the western side, is rather precipitous, but the pass may still be called a good one. Some thickets of willow in the hollows below deceived us into the expectation of finding a camp at our usual hour at the foot of the mountain ; but we found them without water, and continued down a ravine, and encamped about dark at a place where the springs again began to make their appearance, but where our animals fared badly; the stock of the emigrants having razed the grass as completely as if we were again in the midst of the buffalo. August 21. — An hour’s travel this morning brought us into the fertile and picturesque valley of Bear river, the principal tributary to the Great Salt lake. The stream is here 200 feet wide, fringed with willows and occasional groups of hawthorns. We were now entering a region which for us possessed a strange and extraordinary interest. We were upon the waters of the famous lake which forms a salient point among the remarka- ble geographical features of the country, and around which the vague and superstitious accounts of the trappers had thrown a delightful obscurity, which we anticipated pleasure in dispelling, bur which, in the mean time, left a crowded field for the exercise of our imagination. In our occasional conversations with the few old hunters who had visited the region, it had been a subject of frequent speculation ; and the wonders which they related were not the less agreeable because they were highly exaggerated and impossible. Hitherto this lake had been seen only by trappers who were wandering through the country in search of new beaver streams, caring very little for geography; its islands had never been visited ; and none were to be found who had entirely made the circuit of its shores; and no instrumental ob- servations or geographical survey, of any description, had ever been made any where in the neighboring region. It was generally supposed that it had no visible outlet ; but among the trappers, including those in my owi* eamp, were many who believed that somewhere on its surface was a ter- rible whirlpool, through which its waters found their way to the ocean by some subterranean communication. All these things had made a frequent subject of discussion in our desultory conversations around the fires at night; and my own mind had become tolerably well filled with their in- definite pictures, and insensibly colored with their romantic descriptions, which, in the pleasure of excitement, I was well disposed to believe, and half expected to realize. 133 [ 174 ] Where we descended into this beautiful valley, it is three to four miles in breadth, perfectly level, and bounded by mountainous ridges, one above Another, rising suddenly from the plain. Annexed is a map of that portion of the river along which passes the emigrant road. In its character of level bottoms, enclosed between abrupt mountains, it presents a type of the streams of this region. We continued our road down the river, and at night encamped with a family of emigrants — two men, women, and several children — who ap- peared to be bringing up the rear of the great caravan. 1 was struck with the fine appearance of their cattle, some six or eight yoke of oxen, which really looked as well as if they had been all the summer at work on some good farm. It was strange to see one small family travelling along through such a country, so remote from civilization. Some nine years since, such a security might have been a fatal one ; but since their disastrous defeats in the country a little north, the Blackfeet have ceased to visit these waters. Indians, however, are very uncertain in their localities; and the friendly feelings, also, of those now inhabiting it may be changed. According to barometrical observation at noon, the elevation of the valley was 6,400 feet above the sea ; and our encampment at night in latitude 42° 03‘ 47", and longitude 111 0 10' 53", by observation — the day’s journey having been 26 miles. This encampment was therefore within the territo- rial limit of the United States; our travelling, from the time we entered the valley of the Green river, on the 15th of August, having been to the south of the 42d degree of north latitude, and consequently on Mexican territory; and this is the route all the emigrants now travel to Oregon. The temperature at sunset was 65°; and at evening there was a distant thunder storm, with a light breeze from the norih. Antelope and elk were seen during the day on the opposite prairie; and there were ducks and geese in the river. The next morning, in about three miles from our encampment, we reach- ed Smith’s fork, a stream of clear water, about 50 feet in breadth. It is timbered with cottonwood, willow, and aspen, and makes a beautiful de- bouchement through a pass about 600 yards wide, between remarkable mountain hills, rising abruptly on either side, and forming gigantic columns to the gate by which it enters Bear river valley. The bottoms, which below Smith’s fork had been two miles wide, narrowed, as we advanced, to a gap 500 yards wide ; and during the greater part of the day we had a winding route, the river making very sharp and sudden bends, the mountains steep and rocky, and the valley occasionally so narrow as only to leave space for a passage through. We made our halt at noon in a fertile bottom, where the common blue flax was growing abundantly, a few miles below the mouth of Thomas’s fork, one of the larger tributaries of the river. Crossing, in the afternoon, ihe point of a narrow spur, we descended into a beautiful bottom, formed by a lateral valley, which presented a picture of home beauty that went directly to our hearts. The edge of the wood, for several miles along the river, was dotted with the white covers of emi- grant wagons, collected in groups at different camps, where the smokes were rising lazily from the fires, around which the women were occupied in preparing the evening meal, and the children playing in the grass; and herds of cattle, grazing about in the bottom, had an air of quiet security. 134 £ 174 ] and civilized comfort, that made a rare sight for the traveller in such a remote wilderness. In common with all the emigration, they had been reposing for several days in this delightful valley, in order to recruit their animals on its luxuri- ant pasturage after their long journey, and prepare them for the hard travel along the comparatively sterile banks of the Upper Columbia. At the lower end of this extensive bottom, the river passes through an open canon, where there were high vertical rocks to the water’s edge, and the road here turns up a broad valley to the right. It was already near sunset ; but, hoping to reach the river again before night, we continued our march along the valley, finding the road tolerably good, until we arrived at a point where it crosses the ridge by an ascent of a mile in length, which was so very steep and difficult for the gun and carriage, that we did not reach the summit until dark. It was absolutely necessary to descend into the valley for water and grass; and we were obliged to grope our way in the darkness down a very steep, bad mountain, reaching the river at about 10 o’clock. It was late before our animals were gathered into camp, several of those which were very weak being necessarily left to pass the night on the ridge; and we sat down again to a midnight supper. The road, in the morning, presented an ani- mated appearance. YVe found that we had encamped near a large party of emigrants; and a few miles below another party was already in motion. Here the valley had resumed its usual breadth, and the river swept off ^along the mountains on the western side, the road continuing directly on. In about an hour’s travel we met several Shoshonee Indians, who in- formed us that they belonged to a large village which had just come into the valley from the mountain to the westward, where they had been hunt- ing antelope and gathering service berries. Glad at the opportunity of seeing one of their villages, and in the hope of purchasing from them a few horses, I turned immediately off into the plain towards their encamp- ment, which was situated on a small stream near the river. We had approached within something more than a mile of the village, when suddenly a single horseman emerged from it at full speed, followed by another, and another, in rapid succession ; and then party after party poured into the plain, until, when the foremost rider reached us, all the whole intervening plain was occupied by a mass of horsemen, which came charging down upon us with guns and naked swords, lances, and bows and arrows — Indians entirely naked, and warriors fully dressed for war, with the long red streamers of their war bonnets reaching nearly to the ground — all mingled together in the bravery of savage warfare. They had been thrown into a sudden tumult by the appearance of our flag, which, among these people, is regarded as an emblem of hostility ; it being usually borne by the Sioux, and the neighboring mountain Indians, when they come here to war ; and we had accordingly been mistaken for a body of their enemies. A few words from the chief quieted the excitement; and the whole band, increasing every moment in number, escorted us to their encampment, where the chief pointed out a place for us to encamp, near his awn lodge, and made known our purpose in visiting the village. In a very short time we purchased eight horses, for which we gave in exchange blankets, red and blue cloth, beads, knives, and tobacco, and the usual other articles of Indian traffic. We obtained from them also a considerable quan- tity of berries of different kinds, among which service berries were the most abundant; and several kinds of roots and seeds, which we could eat with pleasure, as any kind of vegetable food was gratifying to us. I ate here, for the first time, the kooyah , or tobacco root, ( valeriana edulis ,) the principal edible root among the Indians who inhabit the upper waters of the streams on the western side of the mountains. It has a very strong and remarkably peculiar taste and odor, which I can compare to no other vegetable that I am acquainted with, and which to some persons is extremely offensive. It was characterized by Mr. Preuss as the most horrid food he had ever put in his mouth ; and when, in the evening, one of the chiefs sent his wife to me with a portion which she had prepared as a delicacy to regale us, the odor immediately drove him out of the lodge; and frequently afterwards he used to beg that when those who liked it had taken what they desired, it might be sent away. To others, however, the taste is rather an agreeable one, and I was afterwards always glad when it formed an addition to our scanty meals. It is full of nutriment ; and in its unprepared state is said by the Indians to have very strong poisonous qualities, of which it is deprived by a peculiar process, being baked in the ground for about two days. The morning of the 24th was disagreeably cool, with an easterly wind and very smoky weather. We made a late start from the village, and, re- gaining the road, (on which, during ail the day, were scattered the emigrant wagons,) we continued on down the valley of the river, bordered by high and mountainous hills, on which fires are seen at the summit. The soil appears generally good, although, with the grasses, many of the plants are dried up, probably on account of the great heat and want of rain. The common blue flax of cultivation, now almost entirely in seed — only a scat- tered flower here and there remaining — is the most characteristic plant of the Bear river valley. When we encamped at night on the right bank of the river, it was growingas in a sown field. We had travelled during ths day 22 miles, encamping in latitude (by observation) 42° 36' 56", chrono- metric longitude 111 0 42' 05". In our neighborhood, the mountains appeared extremely rugged, giving- still greater value to this beautiful natural pass. August 25. — This was a cloudless but smoky autumn morning, with a cold wind from the SE., and a temperature of 45° at sunrise. In a few miles I noticed, where a little stream crossed the road, fragments of scoriat * ed basalt scattered about — the first volcanic rock we had seen, and which now became a characteristic rock along our future road. In about six miles travel from our encampment, we reached one of the points in our journey to which we had always looked forward with great interest — the famous Beer springs. The sketch annexed will aid in fixing your ideas of the place, which is a basin of mineral waters enclosed by the mountains, which sweep around a circular bend of Bear river, here at its most north- ern point, and which from a northern, in the course of a few miles acquires a southern direction towards the Great Salt lake. A pretty little stream of clear water enters the upper part of the basin from an open valley in the mountains, and, passing through the bottom, discharges into Bear river. Crossing this stream, we descended a mile below, and made our encamp- ment in a grove of cedar immediately at the Beer springs, which, on ac- count of the effervescing gas and acid taste, have received their name from he voyage urs and trappers of the country, who, in the midst of their rude 136 [ 174 ] and hard lives, are fond of finding some fancied resemblance to the luxu- ries they rarely have the fortune to enjoy. Although somewhat disappointed in the expectations which various de- scriptions had led me to form of unusual beauty of situation and scenery, I found it altogether a place of very great interest; and a traveller for the first time in a volcanic region remains in a constant excitement, and at every step is arrested by something remarkable and new. There is a con- fusion of interesting objects gathered together in a small space. Around the place of encampment the Beer springs were numerous ; but, as far as we could ascertain, were entirely confined to that locality in the bottom. In the bed of the river, in front, for a space of several hundred yards, they were very abundant ; the effervescing gas rising up and agitating the water in countless bubbling columns. In the vicinity round about were numerous springs of an entirely different and equally marked mineral character. In a rather picturesque spot, about 1,300 yards below our encampment, and im- mediately on the river bank, is the most remarkable spring of the place. In an opening on the rock, a white column of scattered water is thrown tip, in form like a jet-d’eau. to a variable height of about three feet, and, though it is maintained in a constant supply, its greatest height is attained only at regular intervals, according to the action of the force below. It is accom- panied by a su’oterraneau noise, which, together with the motion of the water, makes very much the impression of a steamboat in motion ; and, without knowing that it had been already previously so called, we gave to it the name of the Steamboat spring. The rock through which it is forced is slightly raised in a convex manner, and gathered at the opening into an urn-mouthed form, and is evidently formed by continued deposition from the water, and colored bright red by oxide of iron. An analysis of this deposited rock, which I subjoin, will give you some idea of the properties of the water, which, with the exception of the Beer springs, is the mineral water of the place.* It is a hot spring, and the water has a pungent and disagreeable metallic taste, leaving a burning effect on the tongue. Within perhaps two yards of th q jet-d’eau is a small hole of about an inch in diam- eter, through which, at regular intervals, escapes a blast of hot air with a light wreath of smoke, accompanied by a regular noise. This hole had been noticed by Doctor Wislizenus, a gentleman who several years since passed by this place, and who remarked, with very nice observation, that smelling the gas which issued from the orifice produced a sensation of gid- diness and nausea. Mr. Preuss and myself repeated the observation, and were so well satisfied with its correctness, that we did not find it pleasant to continue the experiment, as the sensation of giddiness which it produced was certainly strong and decided. A huge emigrant wagon, with a large and diversified family, had overtaken us and halted to noon^it our encamp- ment; and, while we were sitting at the spring, a band of boys and girls, * ANALYSIS. Carbonate of lime Carbonate of magnesia - Oxide of iron Silica ^ Alumina C Water and loss j - 92 55 - 0.42 - 1.05 - 5.98 100.00 II n % 1 1 1 M 0 S ■o an Inch . I ith t »• E Weber i. Co mm S'teamboaL Spin It a Scale . One 3 file ti '• • -r • ' . . .j . - - . • • ' * 137 [ 174 ] with two or three young men, came up, one of whom I asked to stoop down and smell the gas, desirous to satisfy myself further of its effects. But his natural caution had been awakened by the singular and suspicious features of the place, and he declined my proposal decidedly, and with a few indistinct remarks about the devil, whom he seemed to consider the genius loci. The ceaseless motion and the play of the fountain, the red rock, and the green trees near, make this a picturesque spot. A short distance above the spring, and near the foot of the same spur, is a very remarkable yellow-colored rock, soft and friable, consisting principally of carbonate of lime and oxide of iron, of regular structure, which is prob- ably a fossil coral. The rocky bank along the shore between the Steam- boat spring and our encampment, along which is dispersed the water from the hills, is composed entirely of strata of a calcareous tufa, with the re- mains of moss and reed-like grasses, which is probably the formation of springs. The Beer or Soda springs , which have given name to this locality, are agreeable, but less highly flavored than the Boiling springs at the foot of Pike’s peak, which are of the same character. They are very numerous, and half hidden by tufts of grass, which we amused ourselves in removing and searching about for more highly impregnated springs. They are some of them deep, and of various sizes — sometimes several yards in diameter, and kept in constant motion by columns of escaping gas. By analysis, one quart of the water contains as follows : Sulphate of magnesia ... Grains- - 12.10 Sulphate of lime - - - 2.12 Carbonate of lime - . - - 3.86 Carbonate of magnesia ... - - - 3.22 Chloride of calcium - - - 1.33 Chloride of magnesium - - - - 1.12 Chloride of sodium ... - - - 2.24 Vegetable extractive matter, &c. - - - 0.85 26.34 The carbonic acid, originally contained in the water, had mainly escaped before it was subjected to analysis ; and it was not, therefore, taken into consideration. In the afternoon I wandered about among the cedars, which occupy the greater part of the bottom towards the mountains. The soil here has a dry and calcined appearance; in some places, the open grounds are covered with saline efflorescences, and there are a number of regularly shaped and very remarkable hills, which are formed of a. succession of convex strata that have been deposited by the waters of extinct springs, the orifices of which are found on their summits, some of them having the form of fun- nel-shaped cones. Others of these remarkably shaped hills are of a red- colored earth, entirely bare, and composed principally of carbonate of lime, with oxide of iron, formed in the same manner. Walking near one of them, on the summit of which the springs were dry, my attention was at- tracted by an underground noise, around which I circled repeatedly, until I found the spot from beneath which it came ; and, removing the red earth, discovered a hidden spring, which was boiling up from below, with the same disagreeable metallic taste as the Steamboat spring. Continuing up 138 [ 174 ] the bottom, and crossing the little stream which has been already mentioned, I visited several remarkable red and white hills, which had attracted my attention from the road in the morning. These are immediately upon the stream, and, like those already mentioned, are formed by the deposition of successive strata from the springs. On their summits, the orifices through which the waters had been discharged were so large that they resembled miniature craters, being some of them several feet in diameter, circular, and regularly formed as if by art. At a former time, when these dried-up foun- tains were all in motion, they must have made a beautiful display on a grand scale ; and nearly all this basin appears to me to have been formed under their action, and should be called the place of fountains. At the foot of one of these hills, or rather on its side near the base, are several of these small limestone columns, about one foot in diameter at the base, and tapering upwards to a height of three or four feet ; and on the summit the water is boiling up and bubbling over, constantly adding to the height of the little obelisks. In some, the water only boils up, no longer overflowing, and has here the same taste as at the Steamboat spring. The observer will remark a gradual subsidence in the water, which formerly supplied the fountains, as on all the summits of the hills the springs are now dry, and are found only low down upon their sides, or on the surrounding plain. A little higher up the creek, its banks are formed by strata of a very heavy and hard scoriaceous basalt, having a bright metallic lustre when broken. The mountains overlooking the plain are of an entirely different geological character. Continuing on, I walked to the summit of one of them, where the principal rock was a granular quartz. Descending the mountains, and returning towards the camp along the base of the ridge which skirts the plain, I found at the foot of a mountain spur, and issuing from a compact rock of a dark-blue color, a great number of springs hav- ing the same pungent and disagreeably metallic taste already mentioned, the water of which was collected into a very remarkable basin, whose sin- gularity, perhaps, made it appear to me very beautiful. It is large — perhaps fifty yards in circumference ; and in it the water is contained at an elevation of several feet above the surrounding ground by a wall of cal- careous tufa , composed principally of the remains of mosses, three or four, and sometimes ten feet high. The water within is very clear and pure, and three or four feet deep, where it could be conveniently measured near the wall; and, at a considerably lower level, is another pond or basin of very clear water, and apparently of considerable depth, from the bottom of which the gas was escaping in bubbling columns at many places. This water was collected into a small stream, which, in a few hundred yards, sank under ground, reappearing among the rocks between the two great springs near the river, which it entered by a little fall. Late in the afternoon I sat out on my return to the camp, and, crossing in the way a large field of a salt that was several inches deep, found on my arrival that our emigrant friends, who had been encamped in company with us, had resumed their journey, and the road had again assumed its solitary character. The temperature of the largest of the Beer springs at our en- campment was 65 ° at sunset, that of the air being 62 . 5 °. Our barometric observation gave 5,840 feet for the elevation above the gulf, being about 500 feet lower than the Boiling springs, which are of a similar nature, at the foot of Pike’s peak. The astronomical observations gave for our latitude 42 ° 39 ' 57 ", and 111 0 46 ' 00 " for the longitude. The night was very still and 139 [ 1?4 ] cloudless, and I sat up for an observation of the first satellite of Jupiter, the emersion of which took place about midnight ; but fell asleep at the telescope, awaking just a few minutes after the appearance of the star. The morning of the 26th was calm, and the sky without clouds, but smoky; and the temperature at sunrise 2S.5 0 . At the same time, the tem- perature of the large Beer spring, where we were encamped, was 56°; that of the Steamboat spring 87°; and that of the steam hole, near it, 81.5°. In the course of the morning, the last wagons of the emigration passed by, and we were again left in our place, in the rear. Remaining in camp until nearly 11 o’clock, we travelled a short distance down the river, and halted to noon on the bank, at a point where the road quits the valley of Bear river, and, crossing a ridge which divides the Great Basin from the Pacific waters, reaches Fort Hall, by way of the Portneuf river, in a distance of probably fifty miles, or two and a half days’ journey for wagons. An examination of the great lake which is the outlet of this river, and the principal feature of geographical interest in the basin, was one of the main objects contemplated in the general plan of our survey, and I accordingly determined at this place to leave the road, and, after having completed a reconnoissance of the lake, regain it subsequently at Fort Hall. But our little stock of provisions had again become extremely low ; we had only dried meat sufficient for one meal, and our supply of flour and other comforts was entirely exhausted. I therefore immediately despatched one of the party, Henry Lee, with a note to Carson, at Fort Hall, directing him to load a pack horse with whatever could be obtained there in the way of provisions, and endeavor to overtake me on the river. In the mean time, we had picked up along the road two tolerably well-grown calves, which would have become food for wolves, and which had proba- bly been left by some of the earlier emigrants, none of those we had met having made any claim to them ; and on these I mainly relied for support during our circuit to the lake. In sweeping around the point of the mountain which runs down into the bend, the river here passes between perpendicular walls of basalt, which always fix the attention, from the regular form in which it occurs, and its perfect distinctness from the surrounding rocks among which it has been placed. The mountain, which is rugged and steep, and, by our measure- ment, 1,400 feet above the river directly opposite the place of our halt, is called the Sheep rock — probably because a flock of the common mountain sheep {ovis montana ) had been seen on the craggy point. As we were about resuming our march in the afternoon, I was attracted by the singular appearance of an isolated hill with a concave summit, in the plain, about two miies from the river, and turned off towards it, while tho camp proceeded on its way to the southward in search of the lake. I found the thin and stony soil of the plain entirely underlaid by the basalt which forms the river walls; and when I reached the neighborhood of the hill, the surface of the plain was rent into frequent fissures and chasms of the same scoriated volcanic rock, from forty to sixty feet deep, but which there was not sufficient light to penetrate entirely, and which I had not time to descend. Arrived at the summit of the hill, I found that it termi- nated in a very perfect crater, of an oval, or nearly circular form, 360 paces in circumference, and 60 feet at the greatest depth. The walls, which were perfectly vertical, and disposed like masonry in a very regular manner, were composed of a brown-colored scoriaceous lava, evidently 140 [ 174 ] the production of a modern volcano, and having all the appearance of the lighter scoriaceous lavas of Mount Aitna, Vesuvius, and other volcanoes. The faces of the walls were reddened and glazed by the fire, in which they had been melted, and which had left them contorted and twisted by its violent action. Our route during the afternoon was a little rough, being (in the direction we had taken) over a volcanic plain, where our progress was sometimes obstructed by fissures, and black beds composed of fragments of the rock. On both sides, the mountains appeared very broken, but tolerably well timbered. August 26. — Crossing a point of ridge which makes in to the river, we fell upon it again before sunset, and encamped on the right bank, opposite to the encampment of three lodges of Snake Indians. They visited us during the evening, and we obtained from them a small quantity of roots of different kinds, in exchange for goods. Among them was a sweet root of very pleasant flavor, having somewhat the taste of preserved quince. My endeavors to become acquainted with the plants which furnish to the Indians a portion of their support were only gradually successful, and af- ter long and persevering attention; and even after obtaining, I did not suc- ceed in preserving them until they could be satisfactorily determined. In this portion of the journey, I found this particular root cut up into such small pieces, that it was only to be identified by its taste, when the bulb was met with in perfect form among the Indians lower down on the Co- lumbia, among whom it is the highly celebrated kamas. It was long af- terwards, on our return through Upper California, that I found the plant itself in bloom, which I supposed to furnish the kamas root, ( camassia es~ culenta.) The root diet had a rather mournful effect at the commence- ment, and one of the calves was killed this evening for food. The animals fared well on rushes. August 27 . — The morning was cloudy, with appearance of rain, and the thermometer at sunrise at 29°. Making an unusually early start, we crossed the river at a good ford ; and, following for about three hours a trail which led along the bottom, we entered a labyrinth of hills below the main ridge, and halted to noon in the ravine of a pretty little stream, timbered with cottonwood of a large size, ash- leaved maple, with cherry and other shrubby trees. The hazy weather, which had prevented any very extended views since entering the Green river valley, began now to disappear. There was a slight rain in the earlier part of the day, and at noon, when the ther- mometer had risen to 79.5°, we had a bright sun, with blue sky and scat- tered cumuli. According to the barometer, our halt here among the hills was at an elevation of 5,320 feet. Crossing a dividing ridge in the after- noon, we followed down another little Bear river tributary, to the point where it emerged on an open green flat among the hills, timbered with groves, and bordered with cane thickets, but without water. A pretty little rivulet, coming out of the hill side, and overhung by tall flowering plants of a species 1 had not hitherto seen, furnished us with a good camping place. The evening was cloudy, the temperature at sunset 69°, and the ele- vation 5,140 feet. Among the plants occurring along the line of road dur- ing the day, epinettes des prairies (grindelia squarrosa) was in considera- ble abundance, and is among the very few plants remaining in bloom — the whole country having now an autumnal appearance, in the crisped and 141 [ 174 ] yellow plants, and dried-up grasses. Many cranes were seen during the day, with a few antelope, very shy and wild. August 28. — During the night we had a thunder storm, with moderate rain, which has made the air this morning very clear, the thermometer being at 55°. Leaving our encampment at the Cane spring , and quitting the trail on which we had been travelling, and which would probably have afforded us a good road to the lake, we crossed some very deep ravines, and, in about an hour’s travelling, again reached the river. We were now in a valley five or six miles wide, between mountain ranges, which, about thirty miles below, appeared to close up and terminate the valley, leaving for the river only a very narrow pass, or canon, behind which we imagined that we should find the broad waters of the lake. We made the usual halt at the mouth of a small clear stream, having a slightly mineral taste, (perhaps of salt,) 4,760 feet above the gulf. In the afternoon we climbed a very steep sandy hill ; and, after a slow and winding day’s march of 27 miles, encamped at a slough on the river. There were great quantities of geese and ducks, of which only a few were shot ; the Indians having probably made them very wild. The men employed themselves in fishing, but caught nothing. A skunk, ( mephitis Americana,) which was killed in the after- noon, made a supper for one of the messes. The river is bordered occa- sionally with fields of cane, which we regarded as an indication of our approach to a lake country. We had frequent showers of rain during the night, with thunder. August 29. — The thermometer at sunrise was 54°, with air from the NW., and dark rainy clouds moving on the horizon; rain squalls and bright sunshine by intervals. I rode ahead with Basil to explore the coun- try, and, continuing about three miles along the river, turned directly off on a trail running towards three marked gaps in the bordering range, where the mountains appeared cut through to their bases, towards which the river plain rose gradually. Putting our horses into a gallop on some fresh tracks which showed very plainly in the wet path, we came suddenly upon a small party of Shoshonee Indians, who had fallen into the trail from the north. We could only communicate by signs; but they made us under- stand that the road through the chain was a very excellent one, leading into a broad valley which ran to the southward. VVe halted to noon at what may be called the gate of the pass; on either side of which were huge mountains of rock, between which stole a little pure water stream, with a margin just sufficiently large for our passage. From the river, the plain had gradually risen to an altitude of 5,500 feet, and, by meridian ob- servation, the latitude of the entrance was 42°. In the interval of our usual halt, several of us wandered along up the stream to examine the pass more at leisure. Within the gate, the rocks receded a little back, leaving a very narrow, but most beautiful valley, through which the little stream wound its way, hidden by different kinds of trees and shrubs — aspen, maple, willow, cherry, and elder ; a fine ver- dure of smooth short grass spread over the remaining space to the bare sides of the rocky walls. These were of a blue limestone, which constitutes the mountain here ; and opening directly on the grassy bottom were sev- eral curious caves, which appeared to be inhabited by root diggers. On one side was gathered a heap of leaves for a bed, and they were, dry, open, and pleasant. On the roofs of the caves I remarked bituminous exuda- tions from the rock. 142 [ 174 ] The trail was an excellent one for pack horses; but, as it sometimes crossed a shelving point, to avoid the shrubbery we were obliged in several places to open a road for the carriage through the wood. A squaw on horse- back, accompanied by five or six dogs, entered the pass in the afternoon; but was too much terrified at finding herself in such unexpected company to make any pause for conversation, and hurried off at a good pace — being, of course, no further disturbed than by an accelerating shout. She was well and showily dressed, and was probably going to a village encamped somewhere near, and evidently did not belong to the tribe of root diggers . We had now entered a country inhabited by these people ; and as in the course of our voyage we shall frequently meet with them in various stages of existence, it will be well to inform you that, scattered over the great region west of the Rocky mountains, and south of the Great Snake river, are numerous Indians whose subsistence is almost solely derived from roots and seeds, and such small animals as chance and great good fortune some- times bring within their reach. They are miserably poor, armed only with bow s and arrows, or clubs ; and, as the country they inhabit is almost destitute of game, they have no means of obtaining better arms. In the northern part of the region just mentioned, they live generally in solitary families ; and farther to the south, they are gathered together in villages. Those who live together in villages, strengthened by association, are in exclusive possession of the more genial and richer parts of the country; while the others are driven to the ruder mountains, and to the more in- hospitable parts of the country. But by simply observing, in accompanying us along our road, you will become better acquainted with these people than we could make you in any other than a very long description, and you will find them worthy of your interest. Roots, seeds, and grass, every vegetable that affords any nourishment, and every living animal thing, insect or worm, they eat. Nearly approach- ing to the lower animal creation, their sole employment is to obtain food; and they are constantly occupied in a struggle to support existence. In the annexed view will be found a sketch of the Standing rock — the most remarkable feature of the pass, where a huge rock, fallen from the cliffs above, and standing perpendicularly near the middle of the valley, presents itself like a watch tower in the pass. It will give you a tolerably correct idea of the character of the scenery in this country, where generally the mountains rise abruptly up from comparatively unbroken plains and level valleys ; but it will entirely fail in representing the picturesque beauty of this delightful place, where a green valley, full of foliage, and a hundred yards wide, contrasts with naked crags that spire up into a blue line of pin- nacles 3,000 feet above, sometimes crested with cedar and pine, and some- times ragged and bare. The detention that we met with in opening the road, and perhaps a wil- lingness to linger on the way, made the afternoon’s travel short ; and about two miles from the entrance we passed through another gate, and en- camped on the stream at the junction of a little fork from the southward, around which the mountains stooped more gently down, forming a small open cove. As it was still early in the afternoon, Basil and myself in one direction, and Mr. Preuss in another, set out to explore the country, and ascended different neighboring peaks, in the hope of seeing some indications of the lake ; but though our elevation afforded magnificent views, the eye ranging Kouaqpgir, p jscpji j /? • 'HPT 143 C H4 ] over a long extent of Bear river, with the broad and fertile Cache valley in the direction of our search, was only to be seen a bed of apparently impracticable mountains. Among these, the trail we had been following turned sharply to the northward, and it began to be doubtful if it would not lead us away from the object of our destination ; but I nevertheless de- termined to keep it, in the belief that it would eventually bring us right. A squall of rain drove us out of the mountain, and it was late when we reached the camp. The evening closed in with frequent showers of rain, with some lightning and thunder. August 30. — We had constant thunder storms during the night, but in the morning the clouds were sinking to the horizon, and the air was clear and cold, with the thermometer at sunrise at 39°. Elevation by barometer 5,5S0 feet. We were in motion early, continuing up the little stream without en- countering any ascent where a horse would not easily gallop, and, crossing a slight dividing ground at the summit, descended upon a small stream, along which we continued on the same excellent road. In riding through the pass, numerous cranes were seen ; and prairie hens, or grouse, (bonasia umbellus ,) which lately had been rare, were very abundant. This little affluent brought us to a larger stream, down which we travelled through a more open bottom, on a level road, where heavily-laden wagons could pass without obstacle. The hills on the right grew lower, and, on entering a more open country, we discovered a Shoshonee village ; and be- ing desirous to obtain information, and purchase from them some roots and berries, we halted on the river, which was lightly wooded with cherry, wil- low, maple, service berry, and aspen. A meridian observation of the sun, which I obtained here, gave 42° 14’ 22" for our latitude, and the barometer indicated a height of .5,170 feet. A number of Indians came immediately over to visit us, and several men were sent to the village with goods, tobacco, knives, cloth, vermilion, and the usual trinkets, to exchange for provisions. But they had no game of any kind ; and it was difficult to obtain any roots from them, as they were miserably poor, and had but little to spare from their winter stock of provisions. Several of the Indians drew aside their blankets, showing me their lean and bony figures ; and I would not. any longer tempt them with a display of our merchandise to part with their wretched subsistence, when they gave as a reason that it would expose them to temporary starvation. A great portion of the region inhabited by this nation formerly abounded in game ; the buffalo ranging about in herds, as we had found them on the eastern waters, and the plains dotted with scat- tered bands of antelope ; but so rapidly have they disappeared within a few years, that now, as we journeyed along, an occasional buffalo skull and a few wild antelope were all that remained of the abundance which had covered the country with animal life. The extraordinary rapidity with which the buffalo is disappearing from our territories will not appear surprising when we remember the great scale on which their destruction is yearly carried on. With inconsiderable exceptions, the business of the American trading posts is carried on in their skins ; every year the Indian villages make new lodges, for which the skin of the buffalo furnishes the material ; and in that portion of the country where they are still found, the Indians derive their entire support from them, and slaughter them with a thoughtless and abominable extrava- gance. Like the Indians themselves, they have been a characteristic of the Great West; and as, like them, they are visibly diminishing, it will be 144 [ 174 ] interesting to throw a glance backward through the last twenty years, and give some account of their former distribution through the country, and the limit of their western range. The information is derived principally from Mr. Fitzpatrick, supported by my own personal knowledge and acquaintance with the country. Our knowledge does not go farther back than the spring of 1S24, at which time the buffalo were spread in immense numbers over the Green river and Bear river valleys, and through all the country lying between the Colorado, or Green river of the gulf of California, and Lewis’s fork of the Columbia river; the meridian of Fort Hall then forming the western limit of their range. The buffalo then remained for many years in that country, and frequently moved down the valley of the Columbia, on both sides of the river as far as the Fishing Jails. Below this point they never descended in any numbers. About the year 1S34 or 1835 they began to diminish very rapidly, and continued to decrease until 1838 or 1840, when, with the country we have just described, they entirely abandoned all the waters of the Pacific north of Lewis’s fork of the Columbia. At that time, the Flat* head Indians were in the habit of finding their buffalo on the heads of Sal* mon river, and other streams of the Columbia ; but now they never meet with them farther west than the three forks of the Missouri or the plains of the Yellowstone river. In the course of our journey it will be remarked that the buffalo have not so entirely abandoned the waters of the Pacific, in the Rocky-mountain re- gion south of the Sweet Water, as in the country north of the Great Pass. This partial distribution can only be accounted for in the great pastoral beauty of that country, which bears marks of having long been one of their favorite haunts, and by the fact that the white hunters have more frequent- ed the northern than the southern region — it being north of the South Pass that the hunters, trappers, and traders, have had their rendezvous for many years past ; and from that section also the greater portion of the beaver and rich furs were taken, although always the most dangerous as well as the most profitable hunting ground. In that region lying between the Green or Colorado river and the head waters of the Rio del Norte, over the Yampah , Kooyah* While , and Grand rivers — all of which are the waters of the Colorado — the buffalo never ex- tended so far to the westward as they did on the waters of the Columbia; and only in one or two instances have they been known to descend as far west as the mouth of White river. In travelling through the country west of the Rocky mountains, observation readily led me to the impression that the buffalo had, for the first time, crossed that range to the waters of the Pacific only a few years prior to the period we are considering ; and in this opinion I am sustained by Mr. Fitzpatrick, and the older trappers in that country. In the region west of the Rocky mountains, we never meet with any of the ancient vestiges which, throughout all the country lying upon their eastern waters, are found in the great highivays , continuous for hun- dreds of miles, always several inches and sometimes several feet in depth, which the buffalo have made in crossing from one river to another, or in traversing the mountaiu ranges. The Snake Indians, more particularly those low down upon Lewis’s fork, have always been very grateful to the American trappers, for the great kindness (as they frequently expressed it) which they did to them, in driving the buffalo so low down the Columbia river. The extraordinary abundance of the buffalo on the east side of the Rocky 145 C 574 ] mountains, and their extraordinary diminution, will be made clearly evi- dent from the following statement : At any time between the years 1824 and 1836, a traveller might start from any given point south or north in the Rocky mountain range, journeying by the most direct route to the Missouri river ; and, during the whole distance, his road would be always among large bands of buffalo, which would never be out of his view until he ar- rived almost within sight of the abodes of civilization. At thistiine, the buffalo occupy but a very limited space, principally along the eastern base of the Rocky mountains, sometimes extending at their southern extremity to a considerable distance into the plains between the Platte and Arkansas rivers, and along the eastern frontier of New Mexico as far south as Texas. The following statement, which I owe to the kindness of Mr. Sanford, a. partner in the American F ur Company, will further illustrate this subject, by extensive knowledge acquired during several years of travel through the region inhabited by the buffalo : u Thp total amount of robes annually traded by ourselves and others will not be found to differ much from the following statement : Robes. American Fur Company ----- 70,000 Hudson’s Bay Company ----- 10,000 All other companies^ probablj - 10,000 Making a total of - . - - - - 90,000 as an average annual return for the last eight or ten years. u In the northwest, the Hudson’s Bay Company purchase from the In- dians but a very small number — their only market being Canada, to which the cost of transportation nearly equals the produce of the furs ; and it is only within a very recent period that they have received buffalo robes in trade ; and out of the great number of buffalo annually killed throughout the ex- tensive regions inhabited by the Camanches and other kindred tribes, no robes whatever are furnished for trade. During only four months of the year, (from November until March,) the skins are good for dressing; those obtained in the remaining eight months being valueless to traders ; and the hides of bulls are never taken off or dressed as robes at any season. , Prob- ably not more than one-third of the skins are taken from the animals killed, even when they are in good season, the labor of preparing and dressing the robes being very great; and it is seldom that a lodge trades more than twenty skins in a year. It is during the summer months, and in the early part of autumn, that the greatest number of buffalo are killed, and yet at this time a skin is never taken for the purpose of trade.” From these data, which are certainly limited, and decidedly within bounds, the reader is left to draw his own inference of the immense num- ber annually killed. In 1842, I found the Sioux Indians of the Upper Platte demontes , as their French traders expressed it, w r ith the failure of the buffalo ; and in the fol- lowing year, large villages from the Upper Missouri came over to the moun- tains at the heads of the Platte, in search of them. The rapidly progressive lailure of their principal and almost their only means of subsistence has created great alarm among them ; and at this time there are only two modes presented to them, by which they see a good prospect for escaping starva- 146 [ 174 ] tion : one of these is to rob the settlements along the frontier of the States ; and the other is to form a league between the various tribes of the Sioux nation, the Cheyennes, and ^Arapahoes, and make war against the Crow nation, in order to take from them their country, which is now the best buffalo country in the west. This plan they now have in consideration ; and it would probably be a war of extermination, as the Crows have long been advised of this state of affairs, and say that they are perfectly prepared. These are the best warriors in the Rocky mountains, and are now allied with the Snake Indians; and it is probable that their combination would extend itself to the Utahs, who have long been engaged in war against the Sioux. It is in this section of country that my observation formerly led me to recommend the establishment of a military post. The farther course of our narrative will give fuller and more detailed information of the present disposition of the buffalo in the country we visited. Among the roots we obtained here, I could distinguish only five or six different kinds ; and the supply of the Indians whom we met consisted principally of yampah, ( anethum , graveolens ,) tobacco root, ( valeriana , ) and a large root of a species of thistle, ( circium Virginianum , ) which now is occasionally abundant, and is a very agreeably flavored vegetable. We had been detained so long at the village, that in the afternoon we made only five miles, and encamped on the same river after a day’s jour- ney of 19 miles. The Indians informed us that we should reach the big salt water after having slept twice and travelling in a south direction. The stream had here entered a nearly level plain or valley, of good soil, eight or ten miles broad, to which no termination was to be seen, and lying between ranges of mountains which, on the right, were grassy and smooth, unbro- ken by rock, and lower than on the left, where they were rocky and bald, increasing in height to the southward. On the creek were fringes of young willows, older trees being rarely found on the plains, where the Indians burn the surface to produce better grass. Several magpies ( pica Hudsonica ) were seen on the creek this afternoon ; and a rattlesnake was killed here, the first which had been seen since leaving the eastern plains. Our camp to-night bad such a hungry appearance, that I suffered the little cow to be killed, and divided the roots and berries among the people. A number of Indians from the village encamped near. The weather the next morning was clear, the thermometer at sunrise at 44°. 5, and, continuing down the valley, in about five miles we followed the little creek of our encampment to its junction with a larger stream, called Roseaux, or Reed river. Immediately opposite, on the right, the range was gathered into its highest peak, sloping gradually low, and run- ning off to a point apparently some forty or fifty miles below. Between this (now become the valley stream) and the foot of the mountains, we journeyed along a handsome sloping level, which frequent springs from the hills made occasionally miry, and halted to noon at a swampy spring, where there were good grass and abundant rushes. Here the river was forty feet wide, with a considerable current; and the valley a mile and a half in breadth ; the soil being generally good, of a dark color, and apparently well adapted to cultivation. The day had become bright and pleasant, with the thermometer at 71°. By observation, our latitude was41° 59' 31", and the elevation above the sea 4,670 feet. On our left, thi3 afternoon, the range at long intervals formed itself into peaks, appearing to terminate, about 147 [ 174 1 forty miles below, in a rocky cape ; beyond which, several others were faint- ly visible ; and we were disappointed when at every little rise we did not see the lake. Tow r ards evening, our way was somewhat obstructed by fields of artemisia , which began to make their appearance here, and we encamped on the Roseaux, the water of which had acquired a decidedly salt taste, nearly opposite to a canon gap in the mountains, through which the Bear river enters this valley. As we encamped, the night set in dark and cold, with heavy rain ; and the artemisia, which was here our only wood, was so wet that it would not burn. A poor, nearly starved dog, with a wound in his side from a ball, came to the camp, and remained with us until the winter, when he met a very unexpected fate. September 1. — The morning was squally and cold ; the sky scattered over with clouds ; and the night had been so uncomfortable, that we were not on the road until 8 o’clock. Travelling between Roseaux and Bear rivers, we continued to descend the valley, which gradually expanded, as we advanced, into a level plain of good soil, about 25 miles in breadth, between moun- tains 3,000 and 4,000 feet high, rising suddenly to the clouds, which ait day rested upon the peaks. These gleamed out in the occasional sunlight, man- tled with the snow which had fallen upon them, while it rained on us in the valley below, of which the elevation here was about 4,500 feet above the sea. The country before us plainly indicated that we were approaching the lake, though, as the ground where we were travelling afforded no ele- vated point, nothing of it as yet could be seen ; and at a great distance ahead were several isolated mountains, resembling islands, which they were after- wards found to be. On this upper plain the grass was every where dead ; and among the shrubs with which it was almost exclusively occupied, ( arte- misia being the most abundant,) frequently occurred handsome clusters of several species of dieteria in bloosn. Purshia tridentata was among the frequent shrubs. Descending to the bottoms of Bear river, we foundgood grass for the animals, and encamped about 300 yards above the mouth of Roseaux, which here makes its junction, without communicating any of its sidfy taste to the main stream, of which the water remains perfectly pure. On the river are only willow thickets, ( salix longifolia ,) and in the bottoms the abundant plants are canes, solidago, and helianthi, and along the banks of Roseaux are fields of malva rotundifolia. At sunset the ther- mometer was at 54°. 5, and the evening clear and calm ; but I deferred making any use of it until I o’clock in the morning, when l endeavored to obtain an emersion of the first satellite ; but it was lost in a bank of clouds, which also rendered our usual observations indifferent. Among the useful things which formed a portion of our equipage, was an India-rubber boat, 18 feet long, made somewhat in the form of a bark canoe of the northern lakes. The sides were formed by two air-tight cylinders, eighteen inches in diameter, connected with others forming the bow and stern. To lessen the danger from accidents to the boat, these were divided into four different compartments, and the interior space was sufficiently large to contain five or six persons and a considerable weight of baggage. The Roseaux being too deep to be forded, our boat was filled with air, and in about one hour all the equipage of the camp, carriage and gun included, ferried across. Thinking that perhaps in the course of the day we might reach the outlet at the lake, I got into the boat with Basil Lajeuoesse, and paddled down Bear river, intending at night to rejoin, the party', which in the mean time proceeded on its way. The river was from sixty to one 148 £ 174 ] hundred yards broad, and the water so deep, that even on the comparatively shallow points we could not reach the bottom with 15 feet. On either side were alternately low bottoms and willow points, with an occasional high prairie ; and for five or six hours we followed slowly the winding course of the river, which crept along with a sluggish current among frequent detours several miles around, sometimes running fora considerable distance directly up the valley. As we were stealing quietly down the stream, trying in vain to get a shot at a strange large bird that was numerous among the willows, but very shy, we came unexpectedly upon several families ot Root Diggers, who were encamped among the rushes on the shore, and appeared very- busy about several weirs or nets which had been rudely made oi canes and rushes for the purpose of catching fish. They were very much startled at our appearance, hut we soon established an acquaintance ; and finding that they had some roots, 1 promised to send some men with goods to trade with them. They had the usual very large heads, remarkable among the Digger tribe, with matted hair, and were almost entirely naked ; looking very poor and miserable, as if their lives had been spent in the rushes where they were, beyond which they seemed to have very little knowledge jof any thing. From the few words we could comprehend, their language was that of the Snake Indians. Our boat moved so heavily, that we had made very little progress; and, finding that it would be impossible to overtake the camp, as soon as we were sufficiently far below the Indians, we put to the shore near a high prairie bank, hauled up the boat, and cached our effects in the willows. Ascending the bank, we found that our desultory labor had brought us only a few miles in a direct line ; and, going out into the prairie, after a search we found the trail of the camp, which was now nowhere in sight, but had followed the general course of the river in a large circular sweep which it makes at this place. The sun was about tbiee hours high when we found the trail ; and as our people had passed early in the day, we had the prospect of a vigorous walk before us. Immediately where we landed, the high arable plain on w hich w e had been travelling for several days past terminated in extensive low flats, very generally occupied by salt marshes, or beds of shallow lakes, w hence the water had in most places evaporated, leaving their hard surface encrusted with a shining white residuum, and absolutely covered with very small univalve shells. As we advanced, the whole country around us as- sumed this appearance ; and there was no other vegetation than the shrubby ehenopodiaceous and other'apparently saline plants, which were confined to the rising grounds. Here and there on the river bank, which was raised like a levee above the flats through which it ran, was a narrow border of grass and short black-burnt willows ; the stream being very deep and sluggish, and sometimes 600 to 800 feet wide. After a rapid walk of about 15 miles, we caught sight of t;he camp fires among clumps of willows just as the. sun had sunk behind the mountains on the west side of the val- ley, filling the clear sky with a golden yellow 7 . These last rays, to us so piecious, could not have revealed a more welcome sight. To the traveller and the hunter, a camp fire in the lonely wilderness is always cheering ; and to ourselves, in our present situation, after a hard march pi a region of novelty, approaching the debouches of a river, in a lake of almost fabulous reputation, it was doubly so. A plentiful supper of aquatic birds, and the interest of the scene, soon dissipated fatigue ; and 1 obtained during the 149 [ 17 1 J night emersions of the second, third, and fourth satellites of Jupiter, with observations for time and latitude. September 3. — The morning was clear, with a light air from the north, and the thermometer at sunrise at 45°. 5. At 3 in the morning, Basil was sent back with several men and horses for the boat, which, in a direct course aeross the flats, was not 10 miles distant ; and in the mean time there was a pretty spot of grass here for the animals. The ground was so low’ that we could not get high enough to see across the river, on account of the willow r s ; but we were evidently in the vicinity of the lake, and the water fowl made this morning a noise like thunder. A pelican ( pelecanus ono- crotalm) w r as killed as he passed by, and many geese and ducks flew over the camp. On the dry salt marsh here, is scarce any other plant than salicomia berbacea. In the afternoon the men returned with the boat, bringing with them a small quantity of roots, and some meat, which the Indians had told them was bear meat. Descending the river for about three miles in the afternoon, we found a bar to any further travelling in that direction — the stream being spread out in several branches, and covering the low grounds with water, where the miry nature of the bottom did not permit any further advance. We were evidently on the border of the lake, although the rushes and canes which covered the marshes prevented any view ; and w’e accordingly encamped at the little delta which forms the mouth of Bear river; a long arm of the lake stretching up to the north betw r een us and the opposite mountains. The river w^as bordered with a fringe of willows and canes, among which w’ere interspersed a few r plants ; and scattered about on the marsh was a species of uniola , closely allied to U. spicata of our sea coast. The w hole morass w’as animated with multitudes of w^ater fowl, which appeared to be very wild — rising for the space of a mile round about at the sound of a gun, with a noise like distant thunder. Several of the people waded out into the marshes, and we had to-night a delicious supper of ducks, geese, and plover. Although the moon w'as bright, the night was otherwise favorable ; and I obtained this evening an emersion of the first satellite, with the usual ob- servations. A mean result, depending on various observations made during our stay in the neighborhood, places the mouth of the river in longitude 112° 19' 30" w'est from Greenwich; latitude 41° 30' 22"; and, according to the barometer, in elevation 4,200 feet above the gulf of Mexico. The night was clear, with considerable dew, which I had remarked every night since the first of September. The next morning, while we were preparing to start, Carson rode into the camp with flour and a few’ other articles of light provision, sufficient for two or three days — a scanty but very accepta- ble supply. Mr. Fitzpatrick had not yet arrived, and provisions w r ere very scarce, and difficult to be had at Fort Hall, which had been entirely ex- hausted by the necessities of the emigrants. He brought me also a lbtter from Mr. Dwight, who, in company with several emigrants, had reached that place in advance of Mr. Fitzpatrick, and was about continuing his journey to Vancouver. Returning about five miles up the river, w r e were occupied until nearly sunset in crossing to the left bank — the stream, which in the last five or six miles of its course, is very much narrower than above, being very deep im- mediately at the banks; and we had great difficulty in getting our animals 150 £ 174 ] over. The people with the baggage were easily crossed in the boat, and we encamped on the left bank where we crossed the river. At sunset the thermometer was at 75°, and there was some rain during the night, with a thunder storm at a distance. September 5. — Before us was evidently the bed of the lake, being a great salt marsh, perfectly level and bare, whitened in places by saline efflo- rescences, with here and there a pool of water, and having the appearance of a very level sea shore at low tide. Immediately along the river was a very narrow strip of vegetation, consisting of willows, helianthi, roses, flowering vines, and grass ; bordered on the verge of the great marsh by a fringe of singular plants, which appear to be a shrubby saiicornia, or a genus allied to it. About 12 miles to the southward was one of those isolated mountains, now appearing to be a kind of peninsula ; and towards this we accordingly directed our course, as it probably afforded a good view of the lake ; but the deepening mud as we advanced forced us to return toward the river, and gain the higher ground at the foot of the eastern mountains. Here we halt- ed for a few minutes at noon, on a beautiful little stream of pure and re- markably clear water, with a bed of rock in situ , on which was an abun- dant water plant with a white blossom. There was good grass in the bot- toms ; and, amidst a rather luxuriant growth, its banks were bordered with a large showy plant ( eupatorium purpureum ,) which I here saw for the first time. We named the stream Clear creek. We continued our way along the mountain, having found here a broad plainly beaten trail, over what was apparently the shore of the lake in the spring ; the ground being high and firm, and the soil excellent and covered with vegetation, among which a leguminous plant (glycyrrhiza lepidota) was a characteristic plant. The ridge here rises abruptly to the height of about 4,000 feet ; its face being very prominently marked with a massive stratum of rose-colored granular quartz, which is evidently an altered sedi- mentary rock ; the lines of deposition being very distinct. It is rocky and steep; divided into several mountains; and the rain in the valley appears to be always snow on their summits at this season. Near a remarkable rocky point of the mountain, at a large spring of pure water, were several haikberry trees, ( celtis ,) probably a new species, the berries still green ; and a short distance farther, thickets of sumach ( rhus .) On the plain here I noticed blackbirds and grouse. In about seven miles from Clear creek, the trail brought us to a place at the foot of the mountain where there issued with considerable force ten or twelve hot springs, highly impregnated with salt. In one of these, the thermometer stood at 136°, and in another, at 132°.5 ; and the water, which spread in pools over the low ground, was colored red.* * An analysis of the red earthy matter deposited in the bed of the stream from gives the following result: Peroxide of iron --------- Carbonate of magnesia - -- -- -- - Carbonate of lime, - - - Sulphate of lime --------- Chloride of sodium ------- Silica and alumina Water and loss --------- the springs, 33.50 2.40 50.43 2.00 3.45 3.00 5.22 100.00 151 [ 174 ] At this place the trail we had been following turned to the left, apparent- ly with the view of entering a gorge in the mountain, from which issued the principal fork of a large and comparatively well-timbered stream, called Weber’s fork. We accordingly turned off towards the lake, and encamped on this river, which was 100 to 150 feet wide, with high banks, and very clear pure water, without the slightest indication of salt. September 6. — Leaving the encampment early, we again directed our course for the peninsular butte across a low shrubby plain, crossing in the way a slough-like creek with miry banks, and wooded with thickets of thorn ( cratcegus ) which were loaded with berries. This time we reached the butte without any difficulty, and, ascending to the summit, immediately at our feet beheld the object of our anxious search — the waters of the Inland Sea, stretching in still and solitary grandeur far beyond the limit of our vision. It was one of the great points of the exploration ; and as we looked eagerly over the lake in the first emotions of excited pleasure, I am doubtful if the followers of Balboa felt more enthusiasm when, from the heights of the Andes, they saw 7 for the first time the great Western ocean. It was certainly a magnificent object, and a noble terminus to this part of our ex- pedition ; and to travellers so long shut up among mountain ranges, a sud- den view over the expanse of silent waters had in it something sublime. Several large islands raised their high rocky heads out of the waves ; but whether or not they w'ere timbered, was still left to our imagination, as the distance was too great to determine if the dark hues upon them were wood- land or naked rock. During the day the clouds had been gathering black over the mountains to the westward, and, while we were looking, a storm burst dow’n with sudden fury upon the lake, and entirely hid the islands from our view. So far as we could see, along the shores there, was not a solitary tree, and but little appearance of grass ; and on Weber’s fork, a few miles below our last encampment, the timber was gathered into groves, and then disappeared entirely. As this appeared to be the nearest point to the lake where a suitable camp could be found, we directed our course to one of the groves, where we found a handsome encampment, with good grass and an abundance of rushes, ( equisetumhyemale .) At sunset, the ther- mometer was at 55°; the evening clear and calm, with some cumuli. September 7. — The morning was calm and clear, with a temperature at sunrise of 39°.5. The day was spent in active preparation for our in- tended voyage on the lake. On the edge of the stream a favorable spot was selected in a grove, and, felling the timber, we made a strong coral , or horse pen, for the animals, and a little fort for the people who were to re- main. We were now probably in the country of the Utah Indians, though none reside upon the lake. The India-rubber boat was repaired with pre- pared cloth and gum, and filled with air, in readiness for the next day. The provisions which Carson had brought with him being nowexhausted, and our stock reduced to a small quantity of roots, I determined to retain with me only a sufficient number of men for the execution of our design ; and accordingly seven were^sent back to Fort Hall, under the guidance of Francois Lajeunesse, who, having been for many years a trapper in the country, was considered an experienced mountaineer. Though they were provided with good horses, and the road was a remarkably plain one of only four days’ journey for a horseman, they became bewildered, (as we afterwards learned,) and, losing their way, w'andered about the country in parties of one or tw T o, reaching the fort about a week afterwards. Some 152 C 174 ] straggled in of themselves, and the others were brought in by Indians wha had picked them up on Snake river, about sixty miles below the fort, trav- elling along the emigrant road in full march for the Lower Columbia. The leader of this adventurous party was Francois. Hourly barometrical observations were made during the day, and, after departuie of the party for Fort Hall, we occupied ourselves in continuing our little preparations, and in becoming acquainted with the country in the vicinity. The bottoms along the river were timbered with several kinds of willow, hawthorn, and fine cottonwood trees (populus canadensis) with remarkably large leaves, and sixty feet in height by measurement. We formed now but a small family. With Mr. Preuss and myself, Car- son, Bernier, and Basil Lajeunesse, had been selected for the boat expedi- tion — the first ever attempted on this interior sea ; and Badeau, with De- rosier, and Jacob, ( the colored man, ) were to be left in charge of the camp. We were favored with most delightful weather. To-night there was a brilliant sunset of golden orange and green, which left the western sky clear and beautifully pure ; but clouds in the east made me lose an occupa- tion. The summer frogs were singing around us, and the evening was very pleasant, with a temperature of 60° — a night of a more southern au- tumn. For our supper we had yampah , the most agreeably flavored of the roots, seasoned by a small fat duck, which had come in the way of Jacob’s rifle. Around our fire to-night were many speculations on what to-morrowr would bring forth, and in our busy conjectures we fancied that we should find every one of the large islands a tangled wilderness of trees and shrub- bery, teeming with game of every description that the neighboring region afforded, and which the foot of a white man or Indian had never violated. Frequently, during the day, clouds had rested on the summits of their lofty mountains, and we believed that we should find clear streams and springs of fresh water; and we indulged in anticipations of the luxurious repasts with which we were to indemnify ourselves for past privations. Neither, in our discussions, were the whirlpool and other mysterious dangers forgot- ten, which Indian and hunter’s stories attributed to this unexplored lake. The men had discovered that, instead of being strongly sewed ( like that of the preceding year, which had so triumphantly rode the canons of the Up- per Great Platte,) our present boat w r asonly pasted together in a very inse- cure manner, the maker having been allowed so little time in the construc- tion, that he w'as obliged to crowd the labor of two months into several days. The insecurity of the boat was sensibly felt by us ; and, mingled with the enthusiasm and excitement that we all felt at the prospect of an undertaking w hich had never before been accomplished, was a certain im- pression of danger, sufficient to give a serious character toour conversation. The momentary view which had been had of the lake the day before, its greaf extent and rugged islands, dimly seen amidst the dark waters in the obscurity of the sudden storm, were well calculated to heighten the idea of undefined danger with which the lake w r as generally associated. September 8. — A calm, clear day, w ith r a sunrise temperature of 41°. In view of our present enterprise, a part of the equipment of the boat had been made to consist in three air tight bags, about three feet long, and ca- pable each of containing five gallons. These had been filled with water the night before, arid were now' placed in the boat, with our blankets and instruments, consisting of a sextant, telescope, spy glass, thermometer, and barometer. 153 [ *74 j We left the camp at sunrise, and had a very pleasant voyage down the river, in which there was generally eight or ten feet of water, deepening as we neared the mouth in the latter part of the day. In the course of the morning we discovered that two of the cylinders leaked so much as to re- quire one man constantly at the bellows, to keep them sufficiently full of air to support the boat. Although we had made a very early start, we loitered so much on the way — stopping every now and then, and floating silently along, to get a shot at a goose or a duck — that it was late in the day when we reached the outlet. The river here divided into several branches, filled with fluvials, and so very shallow 7 that it was with difficulty we could get the boat along, being obliged to get out and wade. We encamped on a low 7 point among rushes and young willows, where there was a quan- tity of drift wood, which served for our fires. The evening was mild and clear ; we made a pleasant bed of the young willows ; and geese and ducks enough had been killed for an abundant supper at night, and for breakfast the next morning. The stillness of the night was enlivened by millions of water fowl. Latitude (by observation) 41° IT 26"; and longitude 112° 11' 30". September 9. — The day w as clear and calm ; the thermometer at sunrise at 49°. As is usual with the trappers on the eve of any enterprise, our peo- ple had made dreams, and theirs happened to be a bad one — one which al- ways preceded evil — and consequently they looked very gloomy this morn- ing ; but we hurried through our breakfast, in order to make an early start, and have all the day before us for our adventure. The channel in a short distance became so shallow that our navigation was at an end, being merely a sheet of soft mud, w ith a few inches of w ater, and sometimes none at all, forming the low-water shore of the lake. All this place was absolutely covered w 7 ith flocks of screaming plover. We took off our clothes, and, getting overboard, commenced dragging the boat — making, by this opera- tion, a very curious trail, and a very disagreeable smell in stirring up the mud, as we sank above the knee at every step. The water here was still fresh, w ith only ail insipid and disagreeable taste, probably derived from the bed of fetid mud. After proceeding in this way about a mile, we came to a small black ridge on the bottom, beyond which the w'ater became sud- denly salt, beginning gradually to deepen, and the bottom was sandy and firm. It was a remarkable division, separating the fresh water of the rivers from the briny water of the lake, which was entirely saturated with com- mon salt. Pushing our little vessel across the narrow boundary, we sprang on board, and at length were afloat on the waters of the unknown sea. We did not steer for the mountainous islands, but directed our course to- wards a lower one, which it had been decided we should first visit, the summit of w hich was formed like the crater at the upper end of Bear river valley. So long as we could touch the bottom with our paddles, we were very gay ; but gradually, as the water deepened, we became more still in our frail batteau of gum cloth distended with air, and with pasted seams. Although the day was very calm, there was a considerable swell on the lake ; and there were white patches of foam on the surface, which were slowly moving to the southward, indicating the set of a current in that di- rection, and recalling the recollection of the whirlpool stories. The w r ater continued to deepen as we advanced ; the lake becoming almost transpa- rently clear, of an extremely beautiful bright green color; and the spray > which was thrown into the boat and over our clothes, was directly coil- 154 L 174 ] verted into a crust of common salt, which covered also our hands and arms. u Captain,” said Carson, who for some time had been looking suspiciously at some whitening appearances outside the nearest islands, “ what are those yonder ? — won’t you just take a look with the glass ?’ 7 We ceased paddling for a moment, and found them to be the caps of the waves that were begin- ning to break under the force of a strong breeze that was coming up the lake. The form of the boat seemed to be an admirable one, and it rode on the waves like a water bird ; but, at the same time, it was extremely slow in its progress. When we were a little more than half way across the reach, two of the divisions between the cylinders gave way, and it required the constant use of the bellows to keep in a sufficient quantity of air. For a long time we scarcely seemed to approach our island, but gradually we worked across the rougher sea of the open channel, into the smoother water under the lee of the island ; and began to discover that what we took for a lgng row of pelicans, ranged on the beach, were only low cliffs whitened with salt by the spray of the waves ; and about noon we reached the shore, the transparency of the water enabling us to see the bottom at a consider- able depth. It was a handsome broad beach where we landed, behind which the hill, into which the island was gathered, rose somewhat abruptly ; and a point of rock at one end enclosed it in a sheltering way ; and as there was an abundance of drift wood along the shore, it offered us a pleasant encamp- ment. We did not suffer our fragile boat to touch the sharp rocks; but, getting overboard, discharged the baggage, and, lifting it gently out of the water, carried it to the upper part of the beach, which was composed of very small fragments of rock. Among the successive banks of the beach, formed by the action of the waves, our attention, as we approached the island, had been attracted by one 10 to 20 feet in breadth, of a dark-brown color. Being more closely examined, this was found to be composed, to the depth of seven or eight and twelve inches, entirely of the larva of insects, or, in common language, of the skins of worms, about the size of a grain of oats, which had been washed up by the waters of the lake. Alludingto this subject some monthsafterwards, when travelling through a more southern portion of this region, in company with Mr. Joseph Walker, an old hunter, 1 was informed by him, that, wandering with a party of men in a mountain country east of the great Californian range, he surprised a party of several Indian families encamped near a small salt lake, who aban- doned their lodges at his approach, leaving every thing behind them. Be- ing in a starving condition, they were delighted to find in the abandoned lodges a number of skin bags, containing a quantity of what appeared to be fish, dried and pounded. On this they made a hearty supper; and were gathering around an abundantbreakfastthe next morning, when Mr. Walker discovered that it was with these, ora similar worm, that the bags had been filled. The stomachs of the stout trappers were not proof against their pre- judices, and the repulsive food was suddenly rejected. Mr. Walker had further opportunities of seeing these worms used as an article of food ; and I am inclined to think they are the same as those we saw, and appear to be a product of the salt lakes. It may be well to recall to your mind that Mr. Walker was associated with Captain Bonneville in his expedition to the Rocky mountains; and has since that time remained in the country, gen- erally residing in some one of the Snake villages, when not engaged in one The GREAT SALT LAKE SCALE 1: 1000000. 155 [ 1^4 ] of his numerous trapping expeditions, in which he is celebrated as one of the best and bravest leaders who have ever been in the country. The cliffs and masses of rock along the shore were whitened by an in- crustation of salt where the waves dashed up against them ; and the evap- orating water, which had been left in holes and hollows on the surface of the rocks, was covered with a crust of salt about one-eighth of an inch in thickness. It appeared strange that, in the midst of this grand reservoir, one of our greatest wants lately had been salt. Exposed to be more perfectly dried in the sun, this became very white and fine, having the usual flavor of very excellent common salt, without any foreign taste ; but only a little was collected for piesent use, as there was in it a number of small black insects. Carrying with us the barometer and other instruments, in the afternoon we ascended to the highest point of the island — a bare rocky peak, 800 feet above the lake. Standing on the summit, we enjoyed an extended view of the lake, enclosed in a basin of rugged mountains, which sometimes left marshy flats and extensive bottoms between them and the shore, and in other places came directly down into the water with bold and precipitous bluffs. Following with our glasses the irregular shores, we searched for some in- dications of a communication with other bodies of water, or the entrance of other rivers ; but the distance was so great that we could make out nothing with certainty. To the southward, several peninsular mountains, 3,000 or 4,000 feet high, entered the lake, appearing, so far as the distance and our position enabled us to determine, to be connected by flats and low ridges with the mountains in the rear. Although these are probably the islands usually indicated on maps of this region as entirely detached from the shore, we have preferred to represent them, in the small map on the precedingpage, precisely as we were enabled to sketch them on the ground, leaving their more complete delineation for a future survey. The sketch, of which the scale is nearly sixteen miles to an inch, is introduced only to show clearly the extent of our operations, which, it will be remembered, were made when the waters were at their lowest stage. At the season of high waters in the spring, it is probable that all the marshes and low grounds are overflowed, and the surface of the lake considerably greater. In several places ( which will be indicated to you in the sketch, by the absence of the bordering moun- tains) the view was of unlimited extent — here and there a rocky islet ap- pearing above the water at a great distance ; and beyond, every thing was vague and undefined. As we looked over the vast expanse of water spread out beneath us, and strained our eyes along the silent shores over which hung so much doubt and uncertainty, and which were so full of interest to us, I could hardly repress the almost irresistible desire to continue our ex- ploration ; but the lengthening snow on the mountains was a plain indica- tion of the advancing season, and our frail linen boat appeared so insecure that I was unwilling to trust our lives to the uncertainties of the lake. I therefore unwillingly resolved to terminate our survey here, and remain sat- isfied for the preseht with what we had been able to add to the unknown geography of the region. We felt pleasure also in remembering that we were the first who, in the traditionary annals of the country, had visited the islands, and broken, with the cheerful sound of human voices, the long sol- itude of the place. From the point where we were standing, the ground fell off on every side to the water, giving us a perfect view of the island, which is twelve or thirteen miles in circumference, being simply a rocky 156 [ 174 ] hill, on which there is neither water nor trees of any kind; although the Fremontia vermicular is , which was in great abundance, might easily be mistaken for timber at a distance. The plant seemed here to delight in a congenial air, growing in extraordinary luxuriance seven to eight feet high, and was very abundant on the upper parts of the island, where it was al- most the only plant. This is eminently a saline shrub; its leaves have a very salt taste ; and it luxuriates in saline soils, where it is usually a char- acteristic. It is widely diffused over all this country. A chenopodiaceous shrub, which is a new species of obioive, (0. rigida, Torr. fy Frem .,) was equally characteristic of the lower parts of the island. These two are the striking plants on the island, and belong to a class of plants which form a prominent feature in the vegetation of this country. On the lower parts of the island, also, a prickly pear of very large size was frequent. On the shore, near the water, was a woolly species o H phaca ; and a new species of um- belliferous plant ( leptotcemia ) was scattered about in very considerable abundance. These constituted all the vegetation that now appeared upon the island. I accidentally left on the summit the brass cover to the object end of my spy glass ; and as it will probably remain there undisturbed by Indians, it will furnish matter of speculation to some futuie traveller. In our excur- sions about the island, we did not meet with any kind of animal ; a mag- pie, and another larger bird, probably attracted by the smoke of our fire, paid us a visit from the shore, and were the only living things seen during our stay. The rock constituting the cliffs along the shore where we were encamped, is a talcous rock, or steatite, with brown spar. At sunset, the temperature was 70°. We had arrived just in time to ob- tain a meridian altitude of the sun, and other observations were obtained this evening, which place our camp in latitude 41° 10' 42", and longitude 112° 21' 05" from Greenwich. From a discussion of the barometrical ob- servations made during our stay on the shores of the lake, we have adopted 4,200 feet for its elevation above the gulf of Mexico. In the first disap- pointment we felt from the dissipation of our dream of the fertile islands, I called this Disappointment, island. Out of the diiftwood,we made ourselves pleasant little lodges, open to the water, and, after having kindled large fires to excite the wonder of any straggling savage on the lake shores, lay down, for the first time in a long journey, in perfect security; no one thinking about his arms. The even- ing was extremely bright and pleasant ; but the wind rose during the night, and the waves began to break heavily on the shore, making our island tremble. 1 had not expected in our inland journey to hear the roar of an ocean surf; and the strangeness of our situation, and the excitement we felt in the associated interests of the place, made this one of the most in- teresting nights I remember during our long expedition. In the morning, the surf was breaking heavily on the shore, and we were up early. The lake was dark and agitated, and we hurried through our scanty breakfast, and embarked — having first filled one of the buckets with water from the lake, of which it was intended to make salt. The sun had risen by the time we were ready to start; and it was blowing a strong gale of wind, almost directly off the shore, and raising a consider- able sea, in wdiich our boat strained very much. It roughened as we got away from the island, and it required all the efforts of the men to make any head against the wind and sea; the gale rising with the sun, and there 157 [ 174 ] was danger of being blown into one of the open reaches beyond the island. At the distance of half a mile from the beach, the depth of water was 16 feet, with a clay bottom ; but, as the working of the boat was very severe labor, and during the operation of rounding it was necessary to cease pad- dling, -during which the boat lost considerable way, I was unwilling to dis- courage the men, and reluctantly gave up my intention of ascertaining the depth, and the character of the bed. There was a general shout in the boat when we found ourselves in one fathom, and we soon after landed on a low point of mud, immediately under the butte of the peninsula, w 7 here we unloaded the boat, and carried the baggage about a quarter of a mile to firmer ground. We arrived just in time for meridian observation, and carried the barometer to the summit of the butte, which is 500 feet above the lake. Mr. Preuss set off on foot for the camp, which was about nine miles distant; Basil accompanying him, to bring back horses for the boat and baggage. The rude-looking shelter we raised on the shore, our scattered baggage and boat lying on the beach, made quite a picture ; and we called this the Fisherman’s camp. Lynosiris graveolens , and another new 7 species of obione, (O. confertifolia — Torr. <§/• Frem .,) were growing on the low grounds, with interspersed spots of an unwholesome salt grass, on a saline clay soil, with a few other plants. The horses arrived late in the afternoon, by which time the gale had increased to such a height that a man could scarcely stand before it; and we were obliged to pack our baggage hastily, as the rising w 7 ater of the lake had already reached the point where we were halted. Looking back as we rode off, we found the place of recent encampment entirely covered. The low plain through which we rode to the camp w 7 as covered with a compact growth of shrubs of extraordinary size and luxuriance. The soil was sandy and saline ; flat places, resembling the beds of ponds, that w ere bare of vegetation, and covered with a powdery white salts, being inter- spersed among the shrubs. Artemisia tridentata w’as very abundant, but the plants were principally saline ; a large and vigorous chenopodiaceous shrub, five to eight feet high, being characteristic, with Fremontia vermicu- , laris, and a shrubby plant which seems to be a new salicornia. YVe reached the camp in time to escape a thunder storm which blackened the sky, and were received with a discharge of the howitzer by the people, who, having been unable to see any thing of us on the lake, had begun to feel some uneasiness. September 11. — To-day we remained at this camp, in order to obtain some further observations, and to boil down the water which had been brought from the lake, for a supply of salt. Roughly evaporated over the fire, the five gallons of water yielded fourteen pints of very fine-grained and very white salt, of which the whole lake maybe regarded as a saturat- ed solution. A portion of the salt thus obtained has been subjected to analysis — giving, in 100 parts, the following proportions : Analysis of the salt. Chloride of sodium, (common salt) - 97.80 Chloride of calcium - - - - - 0.61 Cloride of magnesium - - - - - 0.24 158 [ 174 ] Sulphate of soda - 0.23 Sulphate of lime - - - - - - - 1.12 100.00 Glancing your eye along the map, you will see a small stream entering the Utah lake , south of the Spanish fork, and the first waters of that lake which our road of 1844 crosses in coming up from the southward. When 1 was on this stream with Mr. Walker in that year, he informed me that on the upper part of the river are immense beds of rock salt of very great thick- ness, which he had frequently visited. Farther to the southward, the rivers which are affluent to the Colorado, such as the Rio Virgen, and Gila river, near their mouths, are impregnated with salt by the cliffs of rock salt be- tween which they pass. These mines occur in the same ridge in which, about 120 miles to the northward, and subsequently in their more immediate neighborhood, we discovered the fossils belonging to the oolitic period, and they are probably connected with that formation, and are the depasite from which the Great Lake obtains its salt. Had we remained longer, we should have found them in its bed, and in the mountains around its shores. By observatidn, the latitude of this camp is 41° 15' 50", and longitude 112^ 06' 43". The obseivations made during our stay give for the rate of the chro- nometer 31 ".72, corresponding almost exactly with the rate obtained at St. Vrain’s fort. Barometrical obseivations were made hourly during^ the day. This morning we breakfasted on yampah, and had only kamas for supper; but a cup of good coffee still distinguished us from our Digger acquaintances. September 12. — The morning was clear and calm, with a temperature at sunrise of 32°. We resumed our journey late in the day, returning by nearly the same route which we had travelled in coming to the lake ; and, avoiding the passage of Hawthorn creek, struck the hills a little below the hot salt springs. The flat plain we had here passed over consisted alter- nately of tolerably good sandy soil and of saline plats. We encamped early on Clear creek, at the foot of the high ridge ; one of the peaks of which we ascertained by measurement to be 4,210 feet above the lake, or about 8,400 feet above the sea. Behind these front peaks the ridge rises towards the Bear river mountains, which are probably as high as the Wind river chain. This creek is here unusually well timbered with a variety of trees. Among them were birch (betula,) the narrow-leaved poplar ( populus angustifolia ,) several kinds of willow ( snlix , ) hawthorn ( cratcegus , ) al- der ( alnus viridis ,) and cerasus , with an oak allied to quercus alba y but very distinct from that or any other species in the United States. We had to-night a supper of sea gulls, which Carson killed near the lake* Although cool, the thermometer standing at 47°, musquitoes were sufficient- ly numerous to be troublesome this evening. September 1 3. — Continuing up the river valley, we crossed several small streams; the mountains on the right appearing to consist of the blue lime- stone, which we had observed in the same ridge to the northward, alternat- ing here with a.granular quartz already mentioned One of these streams, which forms a smaller lake near the river, was broken up into several chan- nels ; and the irrigated bottom of fertile soil was covered with innumerable flowers, among which were purple fields of eupatorium purpureum, with 159 [ 174 J helianthi, a handsome solidago (S. canadensis ,) and a variety of other plants in bloom. Continuing along the foot of the hills, in the afternoon we found five or six hot springs gushing out together, beneath a conglome- rate, consisting principally of fragments of a grayish-blue limestone, efflor- escing a salt upon the surface. The temperature of these springs was 134%, and the rocks in the bed were colored with a red deposite, and there was common salt crystallized on the margin. There was also a white incrust- ation upon leaves and roots, consisting principally of carbonate of lime. There were rushes seen along the road this afternoon, and the soil under the hills was very black, and apparently very good ; but at this time the grass is entirely dried up. We encamped on Bear river, immediately below a cut-off, the canon by which the river enters this valley bearing north by compass. The night was mild, with a very clear sky ; and I obtained a very excellent observation of an occultation of Tau. 1 Arietis, withotherob- servations. Both immersion and emersion of the star were observed ; but* as our observations have shown, the phase at the bright limb generally gives incorrect longitudes, and we have adopted the result obtained from the emersion at the dark limb, without allowing any weight to the immersion. According to these observations, the longitude is 1 1 2° 05' 12", and the lati- tude 41° 42' 43". All the longitudes on the line of our outward journey, between St. Vrain’s fort and the Dalles of the Columbia, which were not directly determined by satellites, have been chronometrically referred to this place. The people to-day were rather low-spirited, hunger making them very quiet and peaceable ; and ther e was rarely an oath to be heard in the camp — not even a solitary enfant de garce. It was time for the men with an ex- pected supply of provisions from Fitzpatrick to be in the neighborhood ; and the gun was fired at evening, to give them notice of our locality, but met with no response. September 14. — About four miles from this encampment, the trail led us down to the river, where we unexpectedly found an excellent ford — the stream being widened by an island, and not yet disengaged from the hills at the foot of the range. We encamped on a little creek where we had made a noon halt in descending the river. The night was very clear and pleasant, the sunset temperature being 67°. The people this evening looked so forlorn, that 1 gave them permission to kill a fat young horse which I had purchased with goods from the Snake Indians, and they were very soon restored to gayety and good humor. Mr. Preussand myself could not yet overcome some remains of civilized preju- dices, and preferred to starve a little longer; feeling as much saddened as if a crime had been committed. The next day we continued up the valley, the soil being sometimes very black and good, occasionally gravelly, and occasionally a kind of naked salt plains. We found on the way this morning a small encampment of two families of Snake Indians, from whom we purchased a small quantity of kooyah. They had piles of seeds, of three different kinds, spread out upon pieces of buffalo robe ; and the squaws had just gathered about a bushel of the roots of a thistle, ( circium Virginianum.) They were about the ordinary size of carrots, and, as I have previously mentioned, are sweet a-nd well flavored, requiring only a long preparation. They had a band of twelve or fifteen horses, and appeared to be growing in the sunshine with about as little labor as the plants they were eating, 160 c m ] Shortly afterwards we met an Indian on horseback who had killed an antelope, which we purchased from him fora little powder and some balls. We crossed the Roseaux, and encamped on the left bank ; halting early for the pleasure of enjoying a wholesome and abundant supper, and were pleas- antly engaged in protracting our unusual comfort, when Tabeau galloped into the camp with news that Mr. Fitzpatrick was encamped close by us, with a good supply of provisions — flour, rice, and dried meat, and even a little butter. Excitement to-night made us all wakeful ; and after a break- fast before sunrise the next morning, we were again on the road, and, con- tinuing up the valley, crossed some high points of hills, and halted to noon on the same stream, near several lodges of Snake Indians, from whom w r e purchased about a bushel of service berries, partially dried. By the gift of a knife, 1 prevailed upon a little boy to show r me the kooyah plant, which proved to be valeriana edulis. The root, w hich constitutes the kooyah, is large, of a very bright yellow color, w ith the characteristic odor, but not so fully developed as in the prepared substance. It loves the rich moist soil of river bottoms, which was the locality in which I always afterwards found it. It was now entirely out of bloom ; according to my observation, flower- ing in the months of May and June. In the afternoon we entered a long ravine leading to a pass in the dividing ridge between the waters of Bear- river and the Snake river, or Lewis’s fork of the Columbia ; our way being very much impeded, and almost entirely blocked up, by compact fields of luxuriant artemisia. Taking leave at this point of the w aters of Bear river, and of the geographical basin which encloses the system of rivers and creeks which belong to the Great Salt Lake, and which so richly deserves a future detailed and ample exploration, 1 can say of it, in general terms, that the bottoms of this river, ( Bear,) and of some of the creeks which i saw-, form a natural resting and recruiting station for travellers, now, and in all time to come. The bottoms are extensive ; w ? ater excellent ; timber sufficient ; the soil good,, and w^ell adapted to the grains and grasses suited to such an elevated region. A military post, and a civilized settlement, w r ould be of great value here ; and cattle and horses would do well where grass and salt so much abound. The lake will furnish exhaustless supplies of salt. All the mountain sides here are covet ed with a valuable nutritious grass, called bunch grass, from the form in which it grows, which has a second grow th in the fail. The beasts of the Indians were fat upon it ; our own found it a good subsistence ; and its quantity w ill sustain any amount of cattle, and make this truly a bucolic region. We met here an Indian family on horseback, w hich had been out to gather service berries, and were returning loaded. This tree was scattered about on the hills ; and the upper part of the pass was timbered with aspen ; {pop- ulus trem.,) ihe common blue flowering flax occurring among the plants. The approach to the pass was very steep ; and the summit about 6,300 feet above the sea — probably only an uncertain approximation, as at the time of observation it was blowing a violent gale of wind from the northwest, with cumuli scattered in masses over the sky, the day otherwise bright and clear. We descended, by a steep slope, into a broad open valley — good soil ; from four to five miles wide; coming dow r n immediately upon one of the head- waters of the Pannack river, w'hich here loses itself in swampy ground. The appearance of the country here is not very interesting. On either side' is a regular range of mountains of the usual character, with a little timber, tolerably rocky on the right, and higher and more smooth on the left, with 161 C *74 ] still higher peaks looking out above the range. The valley afforded a good level road ; but it was late when it brought us to water, and we encamped at dark. The northwest wind had blown up very cold weather, and the artemisia, which was our fire wood to-night, did not happen to be very abundant. This plant loves a dry, sandy soil, and cannot grow in the good bottoms where it is rich and moist, but on every little eminence, where water does not rest long, it maintains absolute possession. Elevation above the sea about 5,100 feet. At night scattered fires glimmered along the mountains, pointing out camps of the Indians ; and we contrasted the comparative security in which we travelled through this country, with the guarded vigilance we were com- pelled to exert among the Sioux and other Indians on the eastern side of the Rocky mountains. At sunset the thermometer was at 50°, and at midnight at 30 p . September 17. — The morning sky was calm and clear, the temperature at daylight being 25°, and at sunrise 20°. There is throughout this moun- tain country a remarkable difference between the morning and midday temperatures, which at this season was very generally 40° or 50°, and oc- casionally greater; and frequently, after a very frosty morning, the heat in a few hours would render the thinnest clothing agreeable. About noon we reached the main fork. The Pannack river was before us ; the valley be- ing here \h mile wide, fertile, and bordered by smooth hills, not over 500 feet high, partly covered with cedar; a high ridge, in which there is a prominent peak, rising behind those on the left. We continued to descend this stream, and found on it at night a w r arm and comfortable camp. Flax occurred so frequently during the day as to be almost a characteristic, and the soil appeared excellent. The opposite hills on the right are broken here into a great variety of shapes. The evening was gusty, with a temperature at sunset of 59°. I obtained, about midnight, an observation of an emer- sion of the first satellite ; the night being calm and very clear, the stars re- markably bright, and the thermometer at 30°. Longitude, from mean of satellite and chronometer, 1 12° 29' 52" ; and latitude, by observation, 42° 44' 40". September 18. — The day clear and calm, with a temperature of 25° at sunrise. After travelling seven or eight miles, we emerged on the plains of the Columbia, in sight of the famous u Three Buttes a well-known land- mark in the country, distant about 45 miles. The French word butte y which so often occurs in this narrative, is retained from the familiar lan- guage of the country, and identifies the objects to which it refers. It is naturalized in the region of the Rocky mountains ; and, even if desirable to render it in English, I know of no word which would be its precise equiv- alent. It is applied to the detached hills and ridges which rise abruptly, and reach too high to be called hills or ridges, and not high enough to be called mountains. Knob , as applied in the western States, is their most descriptive term in English. Cerro is the Spanish term ; but no translation, or paraphrasis, would preserve the identity of these picturesque landmarks, familiar to the traveller, and often seen at a great distance. Covered as far as could be seen with artemisia, the dark and ugly appearance of this plain obtained for it the name of the Sage Desert ; and we were agreeably surprised, on reaching the Portneuf river, to see a beautiful green, valley w ith scattered timber spread out beneath us, on which, about four miles distant, were glistening the white walls of the fort. The Portneuf 162 [ 174 ] runs along the upland plain nearly to its mouth, and an abrupt descent of perhaps 200 feet brought us down immediately upon the stream, which at the ford is 100 yards wide and 3 feet deep, with clear water, a swift cur- rent, and gravelly bed ; but a little higher up the breadth was only about 35 yards, w r ilh apparently deep water. In the bottom I remarked a very great number of springs and sloughs, with remarkably clear water and gravel beds. At sunset we encamped with Mr. Talbot and our friends, who came on to Fort Hall when we went to the lake, and whom we had the satisfaction to find all well, neither party having met w 7 ith any mischance in the interval of our separation. They, too, had had their share of fatigue and scanty provisions, as there had been very little game left on the trail of the populous emigration ; and Mr. Fitzpatrick had rigidly husbanded our stock of flour and light provisions, in view’ of the approaching winter and the long journey before us. September 19. — This morning the sky was very dark and gloomy, and at daylight it began snowing thickly, and continued all day, with cold, dis- agreeable weather. At sunrise the temperature was 43°. I rode up to the fort, and purchased from Mr. Grant (the officer in charge of the post) sev- eral very indifferent horses, and five oxen in very fine order, which were received at the camp with great satisfaction ; and, one being killed at even- ing, the usual gayety and good humor were at once restored. Night, came in stormy. September 20. — We had a night of snow and rain, and the thermometer at sunrise was at 34 c ; the morning was dark, with a steady rain, and there was still an inch of snow on the ground, with an abundance on the neigh- boring hills and mountains. The sudden change in the weather was hard for our animals, who trembled and shivered in the cold — sometimes taking refuge in the timber, and now and then coming out and raking the snow off the ground for a little grass, or eating the young willows. September 21. — Ice made tolerably thick during the night, and in the morning the weather cleared up very bright, with a temperature at sunrise of 29° ; and I obtained a meridian observation for latitude at the fort, with observations for time. The sky was again covered in the afternoon, and the thermometer at sunset 48°. September 22. — The morning was cloudy and unpleasant, and at sunrise a cold rain commenced, with a temperature of 41°. The early approach of winter, and the difficulty of supporting a large party, determined me to send back a number of the men who had become satisfied that they were not fitted for the laborious service and frequent pri- vation to which they were necessarily exposed, and which there was reason to believe would become more severe in the furtherextension of the voyage. I accordingly called them together, and, informing them of my intention to continue our journey during the ensuing winter, in the course of which they would probably be exposed to considerable hardship, succeeded in prevailing upon a number of them to return voluntarily. These were : Charles De Forrest, Henry Lee, J. Campbell, Wm. Creuss, A. Vasquez, A. Pera, Patrick White, B. Tesson, M. Creely, Frangois Lajeunesse, Basil Lajeunesse. Among these, I regretted very much to lose Basil Lajeunesse, one of the best men in my party, who was obliged, by the condition of his family, to be at home in the coming winter. Our preparations having been completed in the interval of our stay here, both parties were ready this morning to resume their respective routes. 163 [ 174 ] Except that there is a greater quantity of wood used in its construction, Fort Hall very much resembles the other trading posts which have been already described to you, and would be another excellent post of relief for the emi- gration. It is in the low, rich bottom of a valley, apparently 20 miles long, formed by the confluence of Portneuf river with Lewis’s fork of the Colum- bia, which it enters about nine miles below the fort, and narrowing gradu- ally to the mouth of the Pannack river, where it has a breadth of only two or three utiles. Allowing 50 miles for the road from the Beer springs of Bear river to Fort Hall, its distance along the travelled road from the town of Westport, on the frontier of Missouri, byway of Fort Laramie and the great South Pass, is 1,323 miles. Beyond this place, on the line of road along the barren valley of the Upper Columbia, there does not occur, for a distance of nearly three hundred miles to the westward, a fertile spot of ground sufficiently large to produce the necessary quantity of grain, or pasturage enough to allow even a temporary repose to the emigrants. On their recent passage, they had been able to obtain, at very high prices and in insufficient quantity, only such assistance as could be afforded by a small and remote trading post — and that a foreign one — which, in the supply of its own wants, had necessarily drawn around it some of the resources of civilization, bul which obtained nearly all its supplies from the distant depot of Vancouver, by a difficult water carriage of 250 miles up the Co- lumbia river, and a land carriage by pack horses of 600 miles. An Ameri- can military post sufficiently strong to give to their road a perfect security against the Indian tribes, who are unsettled in locality and very uncertain in their disposition, and which, with the necessary facilities for the repair of their equipage, would be able to afford them relief in stock and grain from the produce of the post, w 7 ould be of extraordinary value to the emi- gration. Such a post ( and all others which may be established on the line to Oregon) would naturally form the nucleus of a settlement, at which supplies and repose would be obtained by the emigrant, or trading cara- vans, which may hereafter traverse these elevated, and, in many places, desolate and inhospitable regions. I subjoin an analysis of the soil in the river bottom near Fort Hall, which will be of assistance in enabling you to form some correct idea of its gen- eral character in the neighboring country. I characterize it as good land, but the analysis will show its precise properties. Analysis of soil. Silica . - - _ - 68.55 Alumina - - - _ 7.45 Carbonate of lime - - . . 8.51 Carbonate of magnesia - - - - - 5.09 Oxide of iron - - - - 1.40 Organic vegetable matter - - - - 4.74 Water and loss - - - - - 4.26 100.00 Our observations place this post in longitude 112? 29' 54", latitude 43° OF 30", and in elevation above the sea 4,500 feet. Taking leave of the homeward party, we resumed our journey down 164 [ 174 ] the valley, the weather being very cold, and the rain coming ir. hard gusts, which the wind blew directly in our faces. We forded the Portneuf in a storm of rain, the water in the river being frequently up to the axles, and about 110 yards wide. After the gust, the weather improved a little, and we encamped about three miles below, at the mouth of the Pannack river, on Lewis’s fork, which here has a breadth of about 120 yards. The tem- perature at sunset was 42°; the sky partially covered with dark, rainy clouds. September 23. — The temperature at sunrise was 32° ; the morning dark, and snow falling steadily and thickly, with a light air from the southward. Profited of being obliged to remain in camp, to take hourly barometrical observations from sunrise to midnight. The wind at eleven o’clock set in from the northward in heavy gusts, and the snow changed into rain. In the afternoon, when the sky brightened, the rain had washed all the snow from the bottoms ; but the neighboring mountains, from summit to foot, were luminously white — an inauspicious commencement of the autumn, of which this was the first day. September 24. — The thermometer at sunrise was at 35°, and a blue sky in the west promised a fine day. The river bottoms here are narrow and swampy, with frequent sloughs ; and after crossing the Pannack, the road continued along the uplands, rendered very slippery by the soil of wet clay, and entirely covered with artemisia bushes, among which occur frequent fragments of obsidian. At noon we encamped in a grove of willows, at the upper end of a group of islands, about half a mile above the American falls of Snake river. Among the willows here, were some bushes of Lewis and Clarke’s currant, ( ribes aureum.) The river here enters between low mu- ral banks, which consist of a fine vesicular trap rock, the intermediate por- tions being compact and crystalline. Gradually becoming higher in its downward course, these banks of scoriated volcanic rock form, with occa- sional interruptions, its characteristic feature along the whole line to the Dalles of the Lower Columbia, resembling a chasm which had been rent through the country, and which the river had afterwards taken for its bed. The immediate valley of the river is a high plain, covered with black rocks and artemisias. In the south is a bordering range of mountains, which, although not very high, are broken and covered with snow ; and at a great distance to the north is seen the high, snowy line of the Salmon river mountains, in front of which stand out prominently in the plain the three isolated rugged-looking little mountains commonly known as the Three Buttes. Between the river and the distant Salmon river range, the plain is represented by Mr. Fitzpatrick as so entirely broken up and rent into chasms as to be impracticable fora man even on foot. In the sketch annexed, the point of view is low, but it conveys very well some idea of the open character of the country, with the buttes rising out above the general line. By measurement, the river above is 870 feet wide, immediately contracted at the fall in the form of a lock, by jutting piles of scoriaceous basalt, over which the foaming river must present a grand appearance at the time of high water. The evening was clear and pleasant, with dew ; and at sunset the tempera- ture was 54°. By observation, the latitude is 42° 47' 05", and the longi- tude 112° 40' 13". A few hundred yards below the falls, and on the left bank of the river, is the escarpment from which were taken the specimens that in the appendix are numbered 94, 96, 97, 101, 102, 106, and 107. September 25. — Thermometer at sunrise 47?. The day came in clear. 165 E 174 ] with a strong gale from the south, which commenced at 11 of the last night. The road to-day led along the river, which is full of rapids and small falls. Grass is very scanty ; and along the rugged banks are scat- tered cedars, with an abundance of rocks and sage. We travelled 14 miles, and encamped in the afternoon near the river, on a rocky creek, the bed of which was entirely occupied with boulders of a very large size. For the last three or four miles the right bank of the river has a palisaded ap- pearance. One of the oxen was killed here for food. The thermometer at evening was at 55°, the sky almost overcast, and the barometer indi- cated an elevation of 4,400 feet. September 26. — Rain during the night, and the temperature at sunrise 42°. Travelling along the river, in about 4 miles we reached a picturesque stream, to which we gave the name of Fall creek. It is remarkable for the many falls which occur in a short distance ; and its bed is composed of a calcareous tufa, or vegetable rock, composed principally of the remains of reeds and mosses, resembling that at the Basin spring on Bear river. The road along the river blulfs had been occasionally very bad ; and imagining that some rough obstacles rendered such a detour necessary, we followed for several miles a plain wagon road leading up this stream, until we reached a point whence it could be seen making directly towards a low place in the range on the south side of the valley, and we became imme- diately aware that we were on a trail formed by a party of wagons, in com- pany with whom we had encamped at Elm grove, near the frontier of Missouri, and which you will remember were proceeding to Upper Califor- nia under the direction of Mr. Jos. Chiles. At the time of their departure, no practicable passes were known in the southern Rocky mountains with- in the territory of the United States ; and the probable apprehension of dif- ficulty in attempting to pass near thesettled frontierof New Mexico, together with the desert character of the unexplored region beyond, had induced them to take a more northern and circuitous route by way of the Sweet Water pass and Fort Hall. They had still between them and the valley of the Sacramen- to a great mass of mountains, forming the Sierra Nevada , here commonly known as the Great California mountain , and which were at this time considered as presenting an impracticable barrier to wheeled carriages. Various considerations had suggested to them a division of the party ; and a greater portion of the camp, including the wagons, with the mail and other stores, were now proceeding under the guidance of Mr. Joseph Walker, who had engaged to conduct them, by a long sweep to the southward, around what is called the point of the mountain ; and, crossing through a pass known only to himself, gain the banks of the Sacramento by the valley of the San Joaquin. It w ? as a long and a hazardous journey for a party in which there were women and children. Sixty days was the shortest period of time in which they could reach the point of the mountain, and their route lay through a country inhabited by wild and badly disposed Indians, and very poor in game ; but the leader was a man possessing great and intimate knowledge of the Indians, with an extraordinary firmness and decision of character. In the mean time, Mr. Chiles had passed down the Columbia with a party of ten or twelve men, with the intention of reaching the set- tlements on the Sacramento by a more direct course, which indefinite in- formation from hunters had indicated in the direction of the head waters of the Riviere aux Malheur s ; and having obtained there a reinforcement of animals, and a supply of provisions, meet the wagons before they should 166 [ 174 ] have reached the point of the mountain, at a place which had been pre- viously agreed upon. In the course of our narrative, we shall be able to give you some information of the fortune which attended the movements of these adventurous travellers. Having discovered our error, we immediately regained the line along the river, which the road quitted about noon, and encamped at 5 o’clock on a stream called Raft river, ( Riviere aux Cajeux , ) having travelled only 13 miles. In the north, the Salmon river mountains are visible at a very far distance ; and on the left, the ridge in which Raft river heads is about 20 miles distant, rocky, and tolerably high. Thermometer at sunset 44°, with a partially clouded sky, and a sharp wind from the SW. September 27 . — It w 7 as now no longer possible, as in our previous journey, to travel regularly every day, and find at any moment a convenient place for repose at noon or a camp at night; but the halting places were now generally fixed along the road, by the nature of the country, at places where, with w'ater, there was a little scanty grass. Since leaving the American falls, the road had frequently been very bad ; the many short, steep ascents, exhausting the strength of our w r orn-out animals, requiring always at such places the assistance of the men to get up each cart, one by one ; and our progress with twelve or fourteen wheeled carriages, though light and made for the purpose, in such a rocky country, was extremely slow ; and I again determined to gain time by a division of the camp. Accordingly, to day the parties again separated, constituted very much as before — Mr. Fitzpat- rick remaining in charge of the heavier baggage. The morning was calm and clear, with a white frost, and the tempera- ture at sunrise 24°. To-day the country had a very forbidding appearance ; and, after travel- ling 20 miles over a slightly undulating plain, we encamped at a consider- able spring, called Swamp creek, rising in low grounds near the point of a spur from the mountain. Returning with a small party in a starving con- dition from the w estward 12 or 14 years since, Carson had met here three or four buffalo bulls, two of which were killed. They w r ere among the pioneers which had made the experiment of colonizing in the valley of the Columbia, and which had failed, as heretofore stated. At sunset the ther- mometer w r as at 46°, and the evening was overcast, with a cold wind from the SE., and to-night we had only sage for fire w T ood. Mingled with the artemisia was a shrubby and thorny chenopodiaceous plant. September 28. — Thermometer at sunrise 40°. The wind rose early to a gale from the w 7 est, with a very cold driving rain ; and, after an uncom- fortable day’s ride of 25 miles, we were glad when at evening we found a sheltered camp, where there w r as an abundance of wood, at some elevated rocky islands covered with cedar, near the commencement of another long canon of the river. With the exception of a short detention at a deep little stream called Goose creek, and some occasional rocky places, we had to- day a very good road ; but the country has a barren appearance, sandy, and densely covered with the artemisias from the banks of the river to the foot of the mountains. Here I remarked, among the sage bushes, green bunches of what is called the second growth of grass. The river to-day has had a smooth appearance, free from rapids, with a low, sandy hill slope bordering the bottoms, in which there is a little good soil. Thermometer at sunset 45°, blowing a gale, and disagreeably cold. September 29. — The thermometer at sunrise 36°, with a bright sun, and it*- tJ* v ,v > y. < %■ m K%t OUTLET OF SUBTERRAN !~A N RIVER 167 [ 174 ] appearance of finer weather. The road for several miles was extremely rocky, and consequently bad : but, entering after this a sandy country, it became very good, with no other interruption than the sage bushes, which covered the river plain so far as the eye could reach, and, with their uni- form tint of dark gray, gave to the country a gloomy and sombre appear- ance. All the day the course of the river has been between walls of the black volcanic rock, a dark line of the escarpment on the opposite side pointing out its course, and sweeping along in foam at places where the mountains which border the valley present always on the left two ranges, the lower one a spur of the higher; and, on the opposite side, the Salmon river mountains are visible at a great distance. Having made 24 miles, we encamped about 5 o’clock on Rock creek — a stream having considera- ble water, a swift current, and wooded with willow. September 30. — Thermometer at sunrise 28°. In its progress towards the river, this creek soon enters a chasm of the volcanic rock, which in places along the wall presents a columnar appearance ; and the road be- comes extremely rocky whenever it passes near its banks. It is only about twenty feet wide where the road crosses it, with a deep bed, and steep banks, covered with rocky fragments, with willows and a little grass on its narrow bottom. The soil appears to be full of calcareous matter, with which the rocks are incrusted. The fragments of rock which had been removed by the emigrants in making a road where we ascended from the bed of this creek were whitened with lime ; and during the afternoon’s march I re- marked in the soil a considerable quantity of calcareous concretions. To- wards evening the sages became more sparse, and the clear spaces were oc- cupied by tufts of green grass. The river still continued its course through a trough or open canon ; and towards sunset we followed the trail of several wagons which had turned in towards Snake river, and encamped, as they had done, on the top of the escarpment. There was no grass here, the soil among the sage being entirely naked ; but there is occasionally a little bottom along the river, which a short ravine of rocks, at rare intervals, leaves accessible ; and by one of these we drove our animals down, and found some tolerably good grass bordering the water. Immediately opposite to us, a subterranean river bursts out directly from the face of the escarpment, and falls in white foam to the river below. In the views annexed, you will find, with a sketch of this remarkable fall, a representation of the mural precipices which enclose the main river, and which form its characteristic feature along a great portion of its course. A melancholy and strange-looking country — one of fracture, and violence, and fire. We had brought with us, when we separated from the camp, a large gaunt ox, in appearance very poor ; but, being killed to-night, to the great joy of the people, he was found to be remarkably fat. As usual at such oc- currences, the evening was devoted to gayety and feasting ; abundant fare now made an epoch among us ; and in this laborious life, in such a country as this, our men had but little else to enjoy. The temperature at sunset was 65°, with a clear sky and a very high w r ind. By the observation of the evening, the encampment was in longitude 114° 25' 04", and in lati- tude 42° 38' 44". October 1. — The morning clear, w T ith wind from the west, and the ther- mometer at 55°. We descended to the bottom, taking with us the boat, for the purpose of visiting the fall in the opposite cliffs ; and while it was being 168 r 174 ] filled with air, we occupied ourselves in measuring the river, which is 1,786 feet in breadth, with banks 200 feet high. We were surprised, on our arrival at the opposite side, to find a beautiful basin of clear water, formed by the falling river, around which the rocks were whitened by some saline incrustation. Here the Indians had constructed wicker dams, although I was informed that the salmon do not ascend the river so far ; and its char- acter below would apparently render it impracticable. The ascent of the steep hill side was rendered a little difficult by a dense growth of shrubs and fields of cane ; and there were frequent hidden crev- ices among the rocks, where the water was heard rushing below ; but we succeeded in reaching the main stream, which, issuing from between strata of the trap rock in two principal branches, produced almost immediately a torrent, 22 feet wide, and white with foam. It is a picturesque spot of sin- gular beauty ; overshaded by bushes, from under which the torrent glances, tumbling into the white basin below where the clear water contrasted beau- tifully with the muddy stream of the river. Its outlet was covered with a rank growth of canes, and a variety of unusual plants, and nettles, {urtica canabina ,) which, before they were noticed, had set our hands and arms on fire. The temperature of the spring was 58°, while that of the river was 51 The perpendicular height of the place at which this stream issues is 45 feet above the river, and 152 feet below the summit of the precipice, making nearly 200 feet for the height of the wall. On the hill side here, was obtained the specimen designated by the number 12 in the collection, consisting principally of fragments of the shells of small Crustacea, and which was probably formed by deposition from these springs proceeding from some lake or river in the highlands above. We resumed our journey at noon, the day being hot and bright; and,, after a march of 17 miles, encamped at sunset on the river, near several lodges of Snake Indians. Our encampment was about one mile below the Fishing falls , a series of cataracts with very inclined planes, which are probably so named because they form a barrier to the ascent of the salmon ; and the great fisheries from which the inhabitants of this barren region almost entirely derive a subsistence commence at this place. . These appeared to be unusually gay savages, fond of loud laughter; and, in their apparent good nature and merry character, struck me as being entirely different from the Indians we had been accustomed to see. From several who visited our camp in the evening, we purchased, in exchange for goods, dried salmon. At this season they are not very fat, but we were easily pleased. The Indians made us comprehend, that when the salmon came up the river in the spring, they are so abundant that they merely throw in their spears at random, certain of bringing out a fish. These poor people are but slightly provided with winter clothing; there is but little game to furnish skins for the purpose ; and of a little animal which seemed to be the most numerous, it required 20 skins to make a covering to the knees. But they are still a joyous talkative race, who grow fat and become poor with the salmon, which at least never fail them — the dried being used in the absence of the fresh. VVe are encamped immediately on the river bank, and with the salmon jumping up out of the water, and Indians paddling about in boats made of rushes, or laughing around the fires, the camp to-night has quite a lively appearance. The river at this place is more open than for some distance above ; and. 169 [ 174 ] for the time, the black precipices have disappeared, and no calcareous mat- ter is visible in the soil. The thermometer at sunset 74° ; clear and calm. October 2. — The sunrise temperature was 48° ; the weather clear and calm. Shortly after leaving the encampment, we crossed a stream of clear water, with a variable breadth of 1 0 to 25 yards, broken by rapids, and lightly wooded with willow, and having a little grass on its small bottom land. The barrenness of the country is in fine contrast to-day with the mingled beauty and grandeur of the river, which is more open than hitherto, with a constant succession of falls and rapids. Over the edge of the black cliffs, and out from their faces, are falling numberless streams and springs; and all the line of the river is in motion with the play of the water. In about seven miles we reached the most beautiful and picturesque fall I had seen on the river. On the opposite side, the vertical fall is perhaps 18 feet high ; and nearer, the sheet of foaming water is divided and broken into cataracts, where seve- ral little islands on the brink and in the river above give it much pictu- resque beauty, and make it one of those places the traveller turns again and again to. fix in his memory. There were several lodges of Indians here, from whom we traded salmon. Below this place the river makes a remark- able bend ; and the road, ascending the ridge, gave us a fine view' of the river below, intersected at many places by numerous fish dams. In the north, about 50 miles distant, were some high snowy peaks of the Salmon river mountains ; and in the northeast, the last peak of the range was visible at the distance of perhaps 100 miles or more. The river hills consist of very broken masses of sand, covered every where with the same interminable fields of sage, and occasionally the road is very heavy. We now very fre- quently saw Indians, who were strung along the river at every little rapid where fish are to be caught, and the cry haggai , haggai , (fish,) was con- stantly heard whenever we passed near their huts, or met them in the road. Very many of them were oddly and partially dressed in overcoat, shirt, waistcoat, or pantaloons, or whatever article of clothing they had been able to procure in trade from the emigrants ; for we had now entirely quitted the country where hawk’sbells, beads, and vermilion, were the current coin, and found that here only useful articles, and chiefly clothing, were in great request. These, however, are eagerly sought after ; and for a few trifling pieces of clothing, travellers may procure food sufficient to carry them to the Columbia. We made a long stretch across the upper plain, and encamped on the bluff, where the grass was very green and good ; the soil of the upper plains containing a considerable proportion of calcareous matter. This green freshness of the grass was very remarkable for the season of the year. Again we heard the roar of a fall in the river below, where the water in an unbroken volume goes over a descent of several feet. The night is clear, and the weather continues very warm and pleasant, with a sunset tempera- ture of 70°. October 3. — The morning was pleasant, with a temperature at sunrise of 42°. The road was broken by ravines among the hills, and in one of these, which made the bed of a dry creek, I found a fragmentary stratum, or brecciated conglomerate, consisting of flinty slate pebbles, with frag- ments of limestone containing fossil shells, which will be found described in the appendix under the numbers 16, 21, and 39. On the left, the mountains are visible at the distance of tw T enty or thirty 170 [ 174 ] miles, appearing smooth and rather low ; but at intervals higher peaks look out from beyond, and indicate that the main ridge, which we are leaving with the course of the river, and which forms the northern boundary of the Great Basin, still maintains its elevation. About 2 o’clock we ar- rived at the ford where the road crosses to the right bank of Snake river. An Indian was hired to conduct us through the ford, which proved imprac- ticable for us, the water sweeping away the howitzer and nearly drowning the mules, which we were obliged to extricate by cutting them out of the harness. The river here is expanded into a little bay, in which there are two islands, across which is the road of the ford ; and the emigrants had passed by placing two of their heavy wagons abreast of each other, so as to oppose a considerable mass against the body of water. The Indians informed us that one of the men, in attempting to turn some cattle which had taken a wrong direction, was carried off by the current and drowned. Since their passage, the water had risen considerably ; but, fortunately, we had a resource in a boat, which was filled with air and launched ; and at seven o’clock we were safely encamped on the opposite bank, the animals swimming across, and the carriage, howitzer, and baggage of the camp, being carried over in the boat. At the place where we crossed, above the islands, the i iver had narrowed to a breadth of 1 ,049 feet by measurement, the greater portion of which was from six to eight feet deep. We were obliged to make our camp where we landed, among the Indian lodges, which are semicircular huts made of willow, thatched over with straw, and open to the sunny south. By observation, the latitude of our encamp- ment on the right bank of the river was 42° 55' 58" ; chronometric longi- tude 115° 04' 46", and the travelled distance from Fort Hall 208 miles. October 4. — Calm pleasant day, with the thermometer at sunrise af 47°. Leaving the river at a considerable distance to the left, and following up the bed of a rocky creek, with occasional holes of water, in about six miles we ascended, by a long and rather steep hill, to a plain 600 feet above the river, over w T hich w T e continued to travel during the day, having a broken ridge 2,000 or 3,000 feet high on the right. The plain terminates, where we ascended, in an escarpment of vesicular trap rock, which supplies the fragments of the creek below. The sky clouded over, with a strong wind from the northwest, with a few drops of rain and occasional sunlight, threat- ening a change. Artemisia still covers the plain, but Purshia tridentata makes its appear- ance here on the hill sides and on bottoms of the creeks — quite a tree in size, and larger than the artemisia. We crossed several hollows with a little water in them, and improved grass; and, turning off from the road in the afternoon in search of w ater, travelled about three miles up the bed of a w illow creek, tow ards the mountain, and found a good encampment, with wood and grass, and little ponds of water in the bed of the creek; which must be of more importance at other seasons, as we found there several old fixtures for fishing. There w r ere many holes on the creek prairie, w'hich had been made by the diggers in search of roots. Wind increased to a violent gale from the NW., with a temperature at sunset of 57°. October 5. — The morning was calm and clear, and at sunrise the ther- mometer was at 32°. The road to-day was occasionally extremely rocky, with hard volcanic fragments, and our travelling very slow. In about nine miles the road brought us to a group of smoking hot springs, with a tem- 171 [ 174 ] perature of 164°. There were a fewhelianthi in bloom, with some other low plants, and the place was green round about ; the ground warm, and the air pleasant, with a summer atmosphere that was very grateful in a day of high and cold searching wind. The rocks were covered with a white and red incrustation ; and the water has on the tongue the same unpleas- ant effect as that of the Basin spring on Bear river. They form several branches, and bubble up with force enough to raise the small pebbles seve- ral inches. The following is an analysis of the deposite with which the rocks are incrusted : Analysis, Silica - - - - 72.55 Carbonate of lime - - - 14.60 Carbonate of magnesia - - - 1.20 Oxide of iron - - - 4.65 Alumina - - - - - 0.70 Chloride of sodium, &e. ) Sulphate of soda . . - 1.10 Sulphate of lime, &c. ) Organic vegetable matter ) Water and loss ) - - - 5.20 100.00 These springs are near the foot of the ridge, (a dark and rugged looking mountain,) in which some of the nearer rocks have a reddish appearance, and probably consist of a reddish-brown trap, fragments of which were scattered along the road after leaving the spring. The road was now about to cross the point of this mountain, which we judged to be a spur from the Salmon river range. We crossed a small creek, and encamped about sunset on a stream, which is probably Lake river. This is a small stream, some five or six feet broad, with a swift current, timbered principally with willows and some few cottonwoods. Along the banks were canes, rose bushes, and clematis, with Purshia tridentata and artemisias on the upper bottom. The sombre appearance of the country is somew’hat relieved in coming unexpectedly from the dark rocks upon these green and wooded watercourses, sunk in chasms ; and, in the spring, the contrasted effect must make them beautiful. The thermometer at sunset 47°, and the night threatening snow. October 6. — The morning warm, the thermometer 46° at sunrise, and sky entirely clouded. After travellingaboutthree milesover an extremely rocky road, the volcanic fragments began to disappear ; and, entering among the hills at the point of the mountain, we found ourselves suddenly in a granite country. Here, the character of the vegetation was very much changed ; the artemisia disappeared almost entirely, showing only at intervals towards the close of the day, and was replaced by Purshia tridentata, with flowering shrubs, and small fields of dieteria divaricata, which gave bloom and gayety to the hills. These were every w r here covered with a fresh and green short grass, like that of the early spring. This is the fall or^second growth, the dried grass having been burnt off by the Indians; and wherever the fire has passed, the bright-green color is universal. The soil among the hills 172 [ 174 ] is altogether different from that of the river plain, being in many places black, in others sandy and gravelly, but of a firm and good character, ap- pearing to result from the decomposition of the granite rocks, which is pro- ceeding rapidly. In quitting for a time the artemisia ( sage ) through which we had been so long voyaging, and the sombre appearance of which is so discouraging, I have to remark, that I have been informed that in Mexico wheat is grown upon the ground which produces this shrub ; which, if true, relieves the soil from the character of sterility imputed to it. Be this as it may, there is no dispute about the grass, which is almost universal on the hills and moun- tains, and always nutritious, even in its dry state. We passed on the way masses of granite on the slope of a spur, which was very much weathered and abraded. This is a w T hite feldspathic granite, with small scales of black mica ; smoky quartz and garnets appear to constitute this portion of the mountain. The road at noon reached a broken ridge, on which were scattered many boulders or blocks of granite ; and, passing very small streams, where, with a little more than the usual timber, was sometimes gathered a little wilder- ness of plants, we encamped on a small stream, after a march of 22 miles, in company with a fpw Indians. Temperature at sunset 51° ; and the night was partially clear, with a few stars visible through drifting white clouds. The Indians made an unsuccessful attempt tosteal a few horses from us — a thing of course with them, and to prevent which the traveller is on per- petual watch. October 7. — The day was bright, clear, and pleasant, with a temperature of 45° ; and we breakfasted at sunrise, the birds singing in the trees as merrily as if we were in the midst of summer. On the upper edge of the hills on the opposite side of the creek, the black volcanic rock reappears ; and ascending these, the road passed through a basin, around which the hills swept in such a manner as to give it the appearance of an old crater. Here were strata and broken beds of black scoriated rock, and hills com- posed of the same, on the summit of one of which there was an opening re- sembling a rent. We travelled to-day through a country resembling that of yesterday, where, although the surface was hilly, the road was good, be- ing firm, and entirely free from rocks and artemisia. To our left, below, was the great sage plain ; and on the right were the near mountains, which presented a smoothly broken character, or rather a surface waved into numberless hills. The road was occasionally enlivened by meeting In- dians, and the day was extremely beautiful and pleasant ; and we -were pleased to be free from the sage, even for a day. When we had trav- elled about 8 miles, we were nearly opposite to the highest portion of the mountains on the left side of the Smoke river valley; and, continuing on a few miles beyond, we came suddenly in sight of the broad green line of the valley of the Riviere Bois&e , (wooded river,) black near the gorge where it debouches into the plains, with high precipices of basalt, between walls of which it passes, on emerging from the mountains. Following with the eye its upward course, it appears to be shut in among lofty moun- tains, confining its valley in a very rugged country. Descending the hills, after travelling a few miles along the high plain, the road brought us down upon the bottoms of the river, which is a beau- tiful rapid stream, with clear mountain water, and, as the name indicates, well wooded with some varieties of timber — among which are handsome cot- tonwoods. Such a stream had become quite a novelty in this country, and 173 C 1^4 1 we were delighted this afternoon to make a pleasant camp under fine old trees again. There were several Indian encampments scattered along the river; and a number of their inhabitants, in the course of the evening, came to the camp on horseback with dried and fresh fish to trade. The evening was clear, and the temperature at sunset 57°. At the time of the first occupation of this region by parties engaged in the fur trade, a small party of men under the command of Reid, constituting all the garrison of a little fort on this river, were surprised and massacred by the Indians; and to this event the stream owes its occasional name of Reid’s river. On the 8th we travelled about 26 miles, the ridge on the right having scattered pines on the upper parts; and, continuing the next day our road along the river bottom, after a day’s travel of 24 miles we encamped in the evening on the right bank of the river, a mile above the mouth, and early the next morning arrived at Fort Boise. This is a simple dwelling- house on the right bank of Snake river, about a mile below the mouth of Riviere Boissee ; and on our arrival we were received with an agreeable hospitality by Mr. Payette, an officer of the Hudson Bay Company, in charge of the fort; all of whose garrison consisted in a Canadian engage . Here the road recrosses the river, wfflich is broad and deep; but, with our good boat, aided by two canoes, which were found at the place, the camp w T as very soon transferred to the left bank. Here we found ourselves again surrounded by the sage ; artemisia tridentata, and the different shrubs which during our voyage had always made their appearance abundantly on saline soils, being here the prevailing and almost the only plants. Among them the surface was covered with the usual saline efflorescences, which here consist almost entirely of carbonate of soda, w 7 ith a small por- tion of chloride of sodium. Mr. Payette had made but slight attempts at cultivation, his efforts being limited to raising a few vegetables, in which he succeeded tolerably well ; the post being principally supported by sal- mon. He was very hospitable and kind to us, and we made a sensible im- pression upon all his comestibles ; but our principal inroad was into the dairy, which was abundantly supplied, stock appearing to thrive extremely well ; and we had an unusual luxury in a present of fresh butter, which was, however, by no means equal to that of Fort Hall — probably from some accidental cause. During the day we remained here, there were considerable numbers of miserable half naked Indians around the fort, who had arrived from the neighboring mountains. During the summer, the only subsistence of these people is derived from the salmon, of which they are not provident enough to lay up a sufficient store for the winter, during which many of them die from absolute starvation. Many little accounts and scattered histories, together with an acquaint- ance which I gradually acquired of their modes of life, had left the abori- ginal inhabitants of this vast region pictured in my mind as a race of peo- ple whose great and constant occupation was the means of procuring a sub- sistence ; and though want of space, and other reasons, will prevent me from detailing the many incidents which made these things familiar to me, this great feature among the characteristics of the country will gradually be forced upon your mind. Pointing to a group of Indians wfflo had just arrived from the mountains on the left side of the valley, and who were regarding our usual appliances of civilization with an air of bewildered curiosity, Mr. Payette informed me 174 [ 174 ] that, every year since his arrival at this post, he had unsuccessfully en- deavored to induce these people to lay up a store of salmon for their winter provision. While the summer weather and the salmon lasted, they lived contentedly and happily, scattered along the different streams where the fish were to be found ; and as soon as the winter snows began to fall, little smokes would be seen rising among the mountains, where they would be found in miserable groups, starving out the winter ; and sometimes, accord- ing to the general belief, reduced to the horror of cannibalism — the strong, of course, preying on the weak. Certain it is, they are driven to any ex- tremity for food, and eat every insect, and every creeping thing, how r ever 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 reach- ing the Pacific waters, these people use the Shoshonee or Snake language, which you will have occasion to remark, in the course of the narrative, is the universal language over a very extensive region. On the evening of the 10th, I obtained, with the usual observations, a very excellent emersion of the first satellite, agreeing very nearly with the chronometer. From these observations, the longitude of the fort is 116° 47' 00" ; latitude 43° 49' 22", and elevation above the sea 2,100 feet. Sitting by the fire on the river bank, and waiting for the immersion of the satellite, which did not take place until after midnight, we heard the monotonous song of the Indians, with which they accompany a certain game of which they are very fond. Of the poetry we could not judge, but the music was miserable. October 11. — The morning was clear, with a light breeze from the east, and a temperature 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 directly leav- ing the river, and crossing the artemisia plain, in several ascents we reached the foot of a ridge, where the road entered a dry sandy hollow, up which it continued to the head ; and, crossing a dividing ridge, entered a similar one. We met here tw 7 o poor emigrants, ( Irishmen,) who had lost their horses two days since — probably stolen by the Indians; and were returning to the fort, in hopes to hear something of them there. They had recently had noth- ing to eat ; and I halted to unpack an animal, and gave them meat for their dinner. In this hollow, the artemisia is partially displaced on the hill sides by grass; and descending it — miles, about sunset we reached the Riviere aux Malheurs , (the unfortunate or unlucky river,) a considerable stream, with an average breadth of 50 feet, and, at thistime, 18 inches depth of water. The bottom lands were generally one and a half mile broad, covered principally with long dry grass ; and we had difficulty to find sufficient good grass for the camp. With the exception of a bad place of a few hun- dred yards long, which occurred in rounding a point of hill to reach the ford of the river, the road during the day had been very good. October 12. — 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, a little below the ford, where I found on the low bank, near the water, a considerable number of hot springs, in which the temperature of the water was 193°. The ground, which was too hot for the naked foot, was covered above and below the springs with an incrustation of common salt, very white and good, and fine grained. 175 C 174 ] Leading for 5 miles up a broad dry branch of the Malheurs river, the road entered a sandy hollow, where the surface was rendered firm by the admixture of other rock ; being good and level until arriving near the head of the ravine, where it became a little rocky, and we met with a number of sharp ascents over an undulating surface. Crossing here a dividing ridge, it became an excellent road of gradual descent down a very marked hollow ; in which, after 10 miles, willows began to appear in the dry bed of a head of the Riviere aux Rouleaux , (Birch river;) and descending 7 miles, we found, at its junction with another branch, a little water, not very good or abundant, but sufficient in case of necessity for a camp. Crossing Birch river, we continued for about 4 miles across a point of hill ; the country on the left being entirely mountainous, with no level spot to be seen ; whence we descended to Snake river — here a fine-looking stream, with a large body of water and a smooth current ; although we hear the roar, and see below us the commencement of rapids where it enters among the hills. It forms here a deep bay, with a low sand island in the midst ; and its course among the mountains is agreeably exchanged for the black volcanic rock. The weather during the day had been very bright and extremely hot ; but, as usual, so soon as the sun went down, it was necessary to put on overcoats. 1 obtained ibis evening an observation of an emersion of the first satel- lite, and our observations of the evening place this encampment in latitude 44° 17' 36 ', and longitude 116° 56' 45", which is the mean of the results from the satellite and chronometer. The elevation above the sea 1,880 feet. At this encampment, the grass is scanty and poor. October 13. — The morning was bright, with the temperature at sunset 28°. The horses had strayed off during the night, probably in search of grass ; and, after a considerable delay, we had succeeded in finding all but two, when, about 9 o’clpck, we heard the sound of an Indian song and drum approaching; and shortly after, three Cayuse Indians appeared in sight, bringing with them the two animals. They belonged to a party which had been on a buffalo hunt in the neighboihood of the Rocky moun- tains, and were hurrying home in advance. We presented them w r ith some tobacco, and other things, with which they appeared well satisfied, and, moderating their pace, travelled in company with us. We were now about to leave the valley of the great southern branch of the Columbia river, to which the absence of timber, and the scarcity of water, give the appearance of a desert, to enter a mountainous region where the soil is good, and in which the face of the country is covered with nutri- tious grasses and dense forest — land embracing many varieties of trees pe- culiar to the country, and on which the timber exhibits a luxuriance of growth unknown to the eastern part of the continent and to Europe. This mountainous region connects itself in the southward and westward with the elevated country belonging to the Cascade or California range ; and, as will be remarked in the course of the narrative, forms the eastern limit of the fertile and timbered lands along the desert and mountainous region in- cluded within the Great Basin — a term which I apply to the intermediate region between the Rocky mountains and the next range, containing many lakes, with their own system of rivers and creeks, (of which the Great Salt is the principal, ) and which have no connexion with the ocean, or the great rivers which flow into it. This Great Basin is yet to be adequately explored. And here, on quitting the banks of a sterile river, to enter on arable moun- tains, the remark may be made, that, on this western slope of our continent, 176 [ 174 ] the usual order or distribution of good and bad soil is often reversed ; the river and creek bottoms being often sterile, and darkened with the gloomy and barren artemisia ; while the mountain is often fertile, and covered with rich grass, pleasant to the eye, and good for flocks and herds. Leaving entirely the Snake river, which is said henceforth to pursue its course through canons, amidst rocky and impracticable mountains, where there is no possibility of travelling with animals, we ascended a long and somewhat steep hill ; and crossing the dividing ridge, came down into the valley of Burnt river, which here looks like a hole among the hills. The average breadth of the stream here is 30 feet; it is well fringed with the usual small timber; and the soil in the bottoms is good, with better grass than we had lately been accustomed to see. We now travelled through a very mountainous country; the stream run- ning rather in a ravine than a valley, and the road is decidedly bad and dangerous for single wagons, frequently crossing the stream where the water is sometimes deep; and all the day the animals w'ere fatigued in climbing up and descending a succession of steep ascents, to avoid the pre- cipitous hill sides; and the common trail, which leads along the mountain side at places where the river strikes the base, is sometimes bad even for a horseman. The mountains along this day’s journey were composed, near the river, of a slaty calcareous rock in a metamorphic condition. It ap- pears originally to have been a slaty sedimentaiy limestone, but its pres- ent condition indicates that it has been altered, and has become partially crystalline — probably from the proximity of volcanic rocks. But though travelling was slow and fatiguing to the animals, we were delighted with the appearance of the country, which was green and refreshing after our tedious journey dow r n the parched valley of Snake river. The mountains were covered with good bunch grass, (festuca ;) the water of the streams was cold and pure ; their bottoms were handsomely wooded with various kinds of trees ; and huge and lofty and picturesque precipices were dis- played where the river cut through the mountains. We found in the evening some good grass and rushes; and encamped among large timber, principally birch, which had been recently burnt and blackened, and almost destroyed by fire. The night was calm and tolera- bly clear, with the thermometer at sunset at 59°. Our journey to-day was about 20 miles. October 14. — The day w T as clear and calm, with a temperature at sunrise of 46°. After travelling about three miles up the valley, we found the river shut up by precipices in a kind of canon, and the road makes a cir- cuit over the mountains. In the afternoon we reached the river again, by another little ravine ; and, after travelling along it for a few miles, left it enclosed among rude mountains; and, ascending a smaller branch, en- camped on it about 5 o’clock, very much elevated above the valley. The view r was every where limited by mountains, on which were no longer seen the black and barren rocks, but a fertile soil, w 7 ith excellent grass, and partly well covered with pine. I have never seen a wagon road equally bad in the same space, as this of yesterday and to-day. I noticed where one wagon had been overturned twice, in a very short distance ; and it w 7 as surprising to me that those wagons which were in the rear, and could not have had much assistance, got through at all. Still, there is no mud; and the road has one advantage, in being perfectly firm. The day had been warm and very pleasant, and the night was perfectly clear. 177 [ 174 ]' October 15. — The thermometer at daylight was 42°, and at sunrise 40°; clouds, which were scatterred over all the sky, disappeared with the rising sun. The trail did not much improve until we had crossed the dividing grounds between the Bruli (Burnt) and Powder rivers. The rock dis- played on the mountains, as we approached the summit, was a compact trap, decomposing on the exposed surfaces, and apparently an altered ar- gillaceous sandstone, containing small crystalline nodules of anolcime, ap- parently filling cavities originally existing. From the summit here, the whole horizon shows high mountains ; no high plain or level is to be seen; and on the left, from south around by the west to north, the mountains are black with pines; while, through the remaining space to the eastward, they are bald with the exception of some scattered pines. You will re- mark that we are now entering a region where all the elevated parts are covered with dense and heavy forests. From the dividing grounds we descended by a mountain road to Powder river, on an old bed of which we encamped. Descending from the summit, we enjoyed a picturesque view of high rocky mountains on the right, illuminated by the setting sun. From the heights we had looked in vain for a well-known landmark on Powder river, which had been described to me- by Mr. Payette as Varbre seul , (the lone tree ;) and, on arriving at the river, we found a fine tall pine stretched on the ground, wl*ch had been felled by some inconsiderate emigrant axe. It had been a beacon on the road for many years past. Our Cayuses had become impatient to reach their homes, and travelled on ahead to-day; and this afternoon we were visited by several Indians, who belonged to the tribes on the Columbia. They were on horseback, and were out on a hunting exclusion, but had obtained no better game than a large gray hare, of which each had some six or seven hanging to his sad- dle. We were also visited by an Indian who had his lodge and family in the mountain to the left. He was in want of ammunition, and brought with him a beaver skin to exchange, and which he valued at six charges of powder and ball. I learned from him that there are very few of these animals remaining in this part of the country. The temperature at sunset was 61°, and the evening clear. I obtained, with other observations, an immersion and emersion of the third satellite. Elevation 3,100 feet. October 16. — For several weeks the weather in the daytime has been very beautiful, clear, and warm ; but the nights, in comparison, are very cold. During the night there was ice a quarter of an inch thick in the lodge ; and at daylight the thermometer was at 1 6°, and the same at sun- rise ; the weather being calm and clear. The annual vegetation now is nearly gone, almost all the plants being out of bloom. Last night two of our horses had run off again, which delayed us until noon ; and we made to day but a short journey of 13 miles, the road being very good, and encamped in a fine bottom of Powder river. The thermometer at sunset was at 61°, with an easterly wind, and par- tially clear sky ; and the day has been quite pleasant and warm, though more cloudy than yesterday ; and the sun was frequently faint, but it grew finer and clearer towards evening. October 17. — Thermometer at sunrise 25°. The weather at daylight was fine, and the sky without a cloud ; but these came up, or were formed with the sun, and at 7 were thick over all the sky. Just now, this appears to be the regular course — clear and brilliant during the night, and cloudy 12 178 [ 174 ] during the day. There is snow yet visible in the neighboring mountains* which yesterday extended along our route to the left, in a lofty and dark- blue range, having much the appearance of the Wind river mountains. It is probable that they have received their name of the Blue mountains from the dark-blue appearance given to them by the pines. We travelled this morning across the affluents to Powder river, the road being good, firm* and level ; and the country became constantly more pleasant and interest- ing. The soil appeared to be very deep, and is black and extremely good* as well among the hollows of the hills on the elevated plats, as on the river bottoms ; the vegetation being such as is usually found in good ground. The following analytical result shows the precise qualities of this soil, and will justify to science the character of fertility which the eye attributes . to it : Analysis of Powder river soil. Silica - - - - . 72.30 Alumina - - - - - 6.25 Carbonate of lime . - - - 6.80 Carbonate of magnesia - - - - - 4.62 Oxide of iron - - • - - 1.20 Organic matter - - - 4.50 Water and loss 4.27 100.00 From the waters of this stream, the road ascended by a good and moderate ascent to a dividing ridge, but immediately entered upon ground covered with fragments of an altered siliceous slate, which are in many places large, and render the road racking to a carriage. In this rock the planes of deposition are distinctly preserved, andt he metamorphism is evidently due to the proximity of volcanic rocks. On either side, the mountains here are densely covered with tall and handsome trees ; and, mingled with the green of a variety of pines, is the yellow of the European larch ( pinus larix ,) which loses its leaves in the fall. From its present color, we were enabled to see that it forms a large proportion of the forests on the mountains, and is here a magnificent tree, attaining sometimes the height of 200 feet, which I believe is elsewhere unknown. About two in the afternoon we reached a high point of the dividing ridge, from which we obtained a good view of the Grand Rond — a beautiful level basin, or mountain valley, covered with good grass, on a rich soil, abundantly watered, and surrounded by high and well-timbered mountains; and its name descriptive of its form — the great circle. It is a place — one of the few we have seen in our journey so far — where a farmer would delight to establish himself, if he were content to live in the seclusion which it imposes. It is about 20 miles in diameter; and may, in time, form a superb county. Probably with the view of avoid- ing a circuit, the wagons had directly descended into the Rond by the face of a hill so very rocky and continuously steep as to be apparently imprac- ticable ; and, following down on their trail, we encamped on one of the branches of the Grand Rond river, immediately at the foot of the hill. I had remarked, in descending, some very white spots glistening on the plain, and. going out in that direction after we had encamped, I found them to be 179 [ 174 3 the bed of a dry salt lake, or marsh, very firm and bare, which was covered thickly with a fine white powder, containing a large quantity of carbonate of soda, (thirty-three in one hundred parts.) The old grass had been lately burnt off from the surrounding hills, and, wherever the fire had passed, there was a recent growth of strong, green, and vigorous grass ; and the soil of the level prairie, which sweeps directly up to the foot of the surrounding mountains, appears to be very rich, pro- ducing flax spontaneously and luxuriantly in various places. Analysis of the Grand Bond soil. ■ Silica - Alumina - Lime and magnesia - Oxide of iron - Vegetable matter, partly decomposed Water and loss - Phosphate of lime - The elevation of this encampment is 2,940 feet above the sea. October 18. — It began to rain an hour before sunrise, and continued until 10 o’clock ; the sky entirely overcast, and the temperature at sunrise 48°. We resumed our journey somewhat later than usual, travelling in a nearly north direction across this beautiful valley ; and about noon reached a place on one of the principal streams, where I had determined to leave the emigrant trail, in the expectation of finding a more direct and better road across the Blue mountains. At this place the emigrants appeared to have held some consultation as to their further route, and finally turned directly off to the left ; reaching the foot of the mountain in about three miles, which they ascended by a hill as steep and difficult as that by which we had yesterday descended to the Rond. Quitting, therefore, this road, which, after a very rough crossing, issues from the mountains by the heads of the ZJmatilah river, we continued our northern course across the valley, following an Indian trail which had been indicated to me by Mr. Payette, and encamped at the northern extremity of the Grand Rond, on a slough- like stream of very deep water, without any apparent current. There are some pines here on the low hills at the creek ; and in the northwest corner of the Rond is a very heavy body of timber, which descends into the plain.. The clouds, which had rested very low along the mountain sides during the day, rose gradually up in the afternoon ; and in the evening the sky was almost entirely clear, with a temperature at sunset of 47°- Some in- different observations placed the camp in longitude 117° 28' 26", latitude 4 5° 26' 47" ; and the elevation was 2,600 feet above the sea. October 19. — This morning the mountains were hidden by fog; there • was a heavy dew during the night, in which the exposed thermometer at daylight stood at 32°, and at sunrise the temperature was 35°. We passed out of the Grand Rond by a fine road along the creek, which, for a short distance, runs in a kind of rocky chasm. Crossing a low point, which was a little rocky, the trail conducted into the open valley of the stream — a handsome place for farms ; the soil, even of the hills, being rich 70.81 10.97 1.38 2.21 8.16 5.46 1.01 100.00 180 C 174 ] and black. Passing through a point of pines, which bore evidences of being much frequented by the Indians, and in which the trees were some- times apparently 200 feet high and 3 to 7 feet in diameter, we halted for a few minutes in the afternoon at the foot of the Blue mountains, on a branch of the Grand Rond river, at an elevation of 2,700 feet. Resuming our journey, we commenced the ascent of the mountain through an open pine forest of large and stately trees, among which the balsam pine made its appearance ; the road being good, with the exception of one steep ascent, with a corresponding descent, which might both have been easily avoided by opening a way for a short distance through the timber. It would have been well had we encamped on the stream where we had halted below, as the night overtook us on the mountain, and we were obliged to encamp without water, and tie up the animals to the trees for the night. We had halted on a smooth open place of a narrow ridge, which descended very rapidly to a ravine or piney hollow, at a considerable distance below ; and it was quite a pretty spot, had there been water near. But the fires at night look very cheerless after a day’s march, when there is no preparation for supper going on ; and, after sitting some time around the blazing logs, Mr. Preuss and Carson, with several others, volunteered to take the India rubber buckets and go down into the ravine in search of water. It was a very difficult way in the darkness down the slippery side of the steep moun- tain, and harder still to climb about half a mile up again ; but they found, the water, and the cup of coffee (which it enabled us to make) and bread were only enjoyed with greater pleasure. At sunset the temperature was 46°; the evening remarkably clear; and I obtained an emersion of the first satellite, which does not give a good re- sult, although the observation was a very good one. The chronometric longitude was 117° 28' 34", latitude 45° 38' 07", and we had ascended to an elevation of 3,830 feet. It appeared to have snowed yesterday on the mountains, their summits showing very white to-day. October 20. — There was a heavy white frost during the night, and at sunrise the temperature was 37°. The animals had eaten nothing during the night ; and we made an early start, continuing our route among the pines, which were more dense than yesterday, and still retained their magnificent size. The larches cluster together in masses on the sides of the mountains, and their yellow foliage contrasts handsomely with the green of the balsam and other pines. After a few miles we ceased to see any pines, and the timber consisted of several varieties of spruce, larch, and balsam pine, which have a regularly conical figure. These trees appeared from 60 to nearly 200 feet in height ; the usual circumference being 10 to 12 feet, and in the pines sometimes 21 feet. In open places near the summit, these trees became less high and more branching, the conical form having a greater base. The instrument car- riage occasioned much delay, it being frequently necessary to fell trees and remove the fallen timber. The trail we were following led up a long spur, with a very gradual and gentle rise. At the end of three miles, we halted at an open place near the summit, from which we enjoyed a fine view over the mountainous country where we had lately travelled, to take a barometrical observation at the height of 1,760 feet. After travelling occasionally through open places in the forest, we were obliged to cut a way through a dense body of timber, from which we 181 [ 174 ] emerged on an open mountain side, where we found a number of small springs, and encamped after a day’s journey of 10 miles. Our elevation here was 5,000 feet. October 21. — There was a very heavy white frost during the night, and the thermometer at sunrise was 30°. We continued to travel through the forest, in which the road was ren- dered difficult by fallen trunks, and obstructed by many small trees, which it was necessary to cut down. But these are only accidental difficulties,, which could easily be removed, and a very excellent road may be had through this pass, with no other than very moderate ascents or declivities. A laborious day, which had advanced us only six miles on our road, brought us in the afternoon to an opening in the forest, in which there was a fine mountain meadow, with good grass, and a large clear-water stream — one of the head branches of the Umatilah river. During this day’s ourney> the barometer was broken; and the elevations above the sea, hereafter given, depend upon the temperature of boiling water. Some of the white spruces which I measured to-day were twelve feet in circumference, and one of the larches ten ; but eight feet was the average circumference of those measured along the road. 1 held in my hand a tape line as I walked along, in order to form some correct idea of the size of the timber. Their height appeared to be from 100 to ISO, and perhaps 200 feet, and the trunks of the larches were sometimes 100 feet without a limb; but the white spruces were gen- erally covered with branches nearly to the root. All these trees have their branches, particularly the lower ones, declining. October 22. — The white frost this morning was like snow on the ground ; the ice was a quarter of an inch thick on the creek, and the thermometer at sunrise was at 20°. But, in a few hours, the day became warm and pleas- ant, and our road over the mountains was delightful and full of enjoyment. The trail passed sometimes through very thick young timber, in which there was much cutting to be done ; but, after travelling a few miles, the mountains became more bald, and we reached a point from which there was a very extensive view in the northwest. We were here on the western verge of the Blue mountains, long spurs of which, very precipitous on either side, extended down into the valley, the waters of the mountain roaring be- tween them. On our right was a mountain plateau, covered with a dense forest; and to the westward, immediately below us, was the great Nez Perce (pierced nose) prairie, in which dark lines of timber indicated the course of many affluents to a considerable stream that was seen pursuing its way across the plain towards what appeared to be the Columbia river. This I knew to be the WalahwaLih river, and occasional spots along its banks, which resembled clearings, were supposed to be the mission or In- dian settlements ; but the weather was smoky and unfavorable to far views with the glass. The rock displayed here in the escarpments is a compact amorphous trap, which appears to constitute the mass of the Blue moun- tains in this latitude ; and all the region of country through which we have travelled since leaving the Snake river has been the seat of violent and extensive igneous action. Along the Burnt river valley, the strata are evi- dently sedimentary rocks, altered by the intrusion of volcanic products, which in some instances have penetrated and essentially changed their original condition. Along our line of route from this point to the Califor- nia mountains, there seems but little essential change. All our specimens of sedimentary rocks show them to be much altered, and volcanic produc- tions appear to prevail throughout the whole intervening distance. 182 [ H4 ] The road now led along the mountain side, around heads of the precipi- tous ravines ; and, keeping men ahead to clear a road, we passed alternately through bodies of timber and small open prairies, and encamped in a large meadow, in view of the great prairie below. At sunset the thermometer was at 40°, and the night was very clear and bright. Water was only to be had here by descending a bad ravine, into which we drove our animals, and had much trouble with them, in a very dose growth of small pines. Mr. Preuss had walked ahead, and did not get mto camp this evening. The trees here maintained their size, and one of the black spruces measured 1 5 feet in circumference. In the neighborhood of the camp, pines have reappeared here among the timber. October 23. — The morning was very clear; there had been a heavy white frost during the night, and at sunrise the thermometer was at 31°. After cutting through two thick bodies of timber, in which I noticed some small trees of hemlock spruce, ( perusse ,) the forest became more open, and we had no longer any trouble to clear a way. The pines here were 11 or 12 feet in circumference, and about 1 10 feet high, and appeared to love the open grounds. The trail now led along one of the long spurs of the mountain, descending gradually towards the plain; and after a few miles travelling, we emerged finally from the forest, in full view of the plain below, and saw the snowy mass of Mount Hood, standing high out above the surrounding country, at the distance of 180 miles. The road along the ridge was ex- cellent, and the grass very green and good; the old grass having been burnt off early in the autumn. About 4 o’clock in the afternoon we reached a little bottom on the Walahwalah river, where we found Mr. Preuss, who yesterday had reached this place, and found himself too far in advance of the camp to return. The stream here has just issued from the narrow ra- vines, which are walled with precipices, in which the rock has a brown and more burnt appearance than above. At sunset the thermometer was at 48°; and our position was in longitude 1 18° 00' 39' , and in latitude 45° 53' 35". The morning was clear, with a temperature at sunrise of 24°. Crossing the river, we travelled over a hilly country with good bunch grass ; the river bottom, which generally contains the best soil in other countries, being here a sterile level of rock and pebbles. We had found the soil in the Blue mountains to be of excellent quality, and it appeared also to be good here among the lower hills. Reaching a little eminence, over which the trail passed, we had an extensive view along the course of the river, which was divided and spread over its bottom in a net work of water, receiving several other tributaries from the mountains. There was a band of several hundred horses grazing on the hills about two miles ahead ; and as we advanced on the road we met other bands, which Indians were driving out to pasture also on the hills. True to its general character, the reverse of other countries, the hills and mountains here were rich in grass, the bottoms barren and sterile. In six miles we crossed a principal fork, below which the scattered water of the river was gathered into one channel ; and, passing on the way sev- eral unfinished houses, and some cleared patches, where corn and potatoes were cultivated, we reached, in about eight miles farther, the missionary establishment of Dr. Whitman, which consisted, at this time, of one adobe house — i. e. built of unburnt bricks, as in Mexico. I found Dr. Whitman absent on a visit to the Dalles of the Columbia ; but had the pleasure to see a fine-looking large family of emigrants, men, 183 [ 174 ] women, and children, in robust health, all indemnifying themselves for previous scanty fare, in a hearty consumption of potatoes, which are pro- duced here of a remarkably good quality. We were disappointed in our expectation of obtaining corn meal or flour at this station, the mill belong- ing to the mission having been lately burnt down ; but an abundant supply of excellent potatoes banished regrets, and furnished a grateful substitute for bread. A small town of Nez Perce Indians gave an inhabited and even a populous appearance to the station ; and, after remaining about an hour, we continued our route, and encamped on the river about four miles below, passing on the way an emigrant encampment. Temperature at sunset, 49°. October 25 . — The weather was pleasant, with a sunrise temperature of 36°. Our road to-day had in it nothing of interest; and the country of- fered to the eye only a sandy, undulating plain, through which a scantily timbered river takes its course. We halted about three miles above the mouth, on account of grass ; and the next morning arrived at the Nez Perce fort, one of the trading establishments of the Hudson Bay Company, a few hundred yards above the junction of the Walahwalah with the Colum- bia river. Here we had the first view of this river, and found it about 1,200 yards wide, and presenting the appearance of a fine navigable stream. We made our camp in a little grove of willows on the Walahwalah, which are the only trees to be seen in the neighborhood; but were obliged to send the animals back to the encampment we had left, as there was scarcely a blade of grass to be found. The post is on the bank of the Columbia, on a plain of bare sands, from which the air was literally filled with clouds of dust and sand, during one of the few days we remained here ; this place being one of the several points on the river which are distinguished for pre- vailing high winds, which come from the sea. The appearance of the post and country was without interest, except that we here saw, for the first time, the great river on which the course of events for the last half century has been directing attention and conferring historical fame. The river is, in- deed, a noble object, and has here attained its full magnitude. About nine miles above, and in sight from the heights about the post, is the junction of the two great forks which constitute the main stream — that on which we had been travelling from Fort Hall, and known by the names of Lewis’s fork, Shoshonee, and Snake river; and the North fork, which has retained the name of Columbia, as being the main stream. We did not go up to the junction, being pressed for time ; but the union of two large sireams, coming one from the southeast, and the other from the northeast, and meeting in what may be treated as the geographical centre of the Oregon valley, thence doubling the volume of water to the ocean, while opening two great lines of communication with the interior continent, con- stitutes a feature in the map of the country which cannot be overlooked ; and it was probably in reference to this junction of waters, and these lines of communication, that this post was established. They are important lines, and, from the structure of the country, must forever remain so — one of them leading to the South Pass, and to the valley of the Mississippi ; the other to the pass at the head of the Athabasca river, and to the countries drained by the waters of the Hudson Bay. The British fur companies now use both lines ; the Americans, in their emigration to Oregon, have begun to follow the one which leads towards the United States. Batteaus from tide water ascend to the junction, and thence high up the North fork, or Co- lumbia. Land conveyance only is used upon the line of Lewis’s fork. 184 E 174 ] To the emigrants to Oregon, the Nez Perce is a point of interest, as being,, to those who choose it, the termination of their overland journey. The broad expanse of the river here invites them to embark on its bosom ; and the lofty trees of the forest furnish the means of doing so. From the South Pass to this place is about 1,000 miles ; and as it is about the same distance from that pass to the Missouri river at the mouth of the Kansas, it may be assumed that 2,000 miles is the necessary land travel in crossing from the United States to the Pacific ocean on this line. From the mouth of the Great Platte it would be about 100 miles less. Mr. McKinley, the commander of the post, received us with great civili- ty ; and both to myself, and the heads of the emigrants who were there at the time, extended the rites of hospitality in a comfortable dinner to which he invited us. By a meridional altitude of the sun, the only observation that the weather permitted us to obtain, the mouth of the Walahwalah river is in latitude 46° 03’ 46"; and, by the road we had travelled, 612 miles from Fort Hall. At the time of our arrival, a considerable body of the emigrants under the direction of Mr . Applegate, a man of considerable resolution and energy, had nearly completed the building of a number of Mackinaw boats, in which they proposed to continue their further voyage down the Columbia. I had seen, in descending the Walahwalah river, a fine drove of several hundred cattle, which they had exchanged for Californian cattle, to be received at Vancouver, and which are considered a very inferior breed. The other portion of the emigration had preferred to complete their journey by land along the banks of the Columbia, taking their stock and wagons with them. Having reinforced our animals witn eight fresh horses, hired from the post, and increased our stock of provisions with dried salmon, potatoes, and a little beef, we resumed our journey down the left bank of the Columbia, being guided on our road by an intelligent Indian boy, whom I had en- gaged to accompany us as far as the Dalles. The sketch of a rock which we passed in the course of the morning is annexed, to show the manner in which the basaltic rock, which constitutes the geological formation of the Columbia valley, now presents itself. From an elevated point over which the road led, we obtained another far view of Mount Hood, 150 miles distant. We obtained on the river bank an obser- vation 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 we toiled slowly along through deep loose sands, and over fragments of black volcanic rock, our laborious travelling was strongly contrasted with the rapid progress of Mr. Applegate’s fleet of boats, which suddenly came glid- ing swiftly down the broad river, which here chanced to be tranquil and smooth. At evening we encamped on the river bank, where there was very little grass, and less timber. We frequently met Indians on the road, and they were collected at every favorable spot along the river. October 29. — The road continued along the river, and in the course of the day Mount St. Helens, another snowy peak of the Cascade range, was visible. We crossed the Umatilah river at a fall near its mouth. This stream is of the same class as the Walahwalah river, with a bed of volcanic rock, in places split into fissures. Our encampment was similar to that of yesterday; there was very little grass, and no wood. The Indians brought us some pieces for sale, which were purchased to make our fires. October 31. — By observation, our camp is in latitude 45° 50' 05", and EWfr 4he Columbia the submerged forest, and are supposed to have been created by the effects of some con vulsion which formed the cascades, and which, by damming up the river, placed these trees under water and destroyed them. But I venture to presume that the cascades are older than the trees; and as these submerged forests occur at five or six placesalong the river, I had an opportunity to satisfy myself that they have been formed by immense land slides from the mountains, which here closely shut in the river, and which brought down with them into the river the pities of the mountain. At one place, on the right bank, I remarked a place where a portion of one of these slides seemed to have planted itself, with all the evergreen foliage, and the vegetation of the neighboring hill, directly amidst the falling and yellow leaves of the river trees. It occurred to me that this would have been a beautiful illustration to the eye of a botanist. Following the course of a slide, which was very plainly marked along the mountain, I found that in the interior parts the trees’ were in their usual erect position ; but at the extremity of the slide they were rocked about, and thrown into a confusion of inclinations. About 4 o'clock in the afternoon we passed a sandy bar in the river, whence we had an unexpected view of Mount Hood, bearing directly south by compass. During the day we used oar and sail, and at night had again a delight- ful camping ground, and a dry place to sleep upon. Nove?iiber 18. — The day again was- pleasant and bright. At 10 o'clock we passed a rock island, on the right shore of the river, which the Indians use as a burial ground ; and, halting for a short time, about an hour after- wards, at the village of our Indian Iriends, early in the afternoon we ar- rived again at the Dalles. Carson had removed the camp up the river a little nearer to the hills, where the animals had better grass. We found every thing in good order, and arrived just in time to partake of an excellent roast of California beef. My friend Mr. Gilpin had arrived in advance of the party. His object in visiting this country had been to obtain correct information of the Walak- jnette settlements ; and he had reached this point in his journey, highly pleased with the country over which lie had travelled, and with invigorat- ed health. On the following day he continued his journey, in our return ing boats, to Vancouver. 196 [ 174 ] The camp was now occupied in making the necessary preparations for our homeward journey, which, though homeward, contemplated a new route, and a great circuit to the south and southeast, and the exploration of the Great Basin between the Rocky mountains and the Sierra Nevada. Three principal objects were indicated, by report or by maps, as being on this route; the character or existence of which I wished to ascertain, and which I assumed as landmarks, or leading points, on the projected line of return. The first of these points was the Tlamath lake, on the table land between the head of Fall river, which comes to the Columbia, and the Sacramento, which goes to the bay of San Francisco ; and from which lake a river of the same name makes its way westwardly direct to the ocean. This lake and river are often called Klamet , but I have chosen to write its name according to the Indian pronunciation. The position of this lake, on the line of inland communication between Oregon and Cali- fornia ; its proximity to the demarcation boundary of latitude 42°; its im- puted double character of lake, or meadow, according to the season of the year ; and the hostile and warlike character attributed to the Indians about it — all made it a desirable object to visit and examine. From this lake our course was intended to be about southeast, to a reported lake called Mary’s, at some days’ journey in the Great Basin; and thence, still on southeast, to the reputed Buenaventura river, which has had a place in so many maps, and countenanced the belief of the existence of a great river flowing from the Rocky mountains to the bay of San Francisco. From the Buenaventura the next point was intended to be in that section of the Rocky mountains which includes the heads of Arkansas river, and of the opposite waters of the Californian gulf; and thence down the Ar- kansas to Bent’s fort, and home. This was our projected line of return — a great part of it absolutely new to geographical, botanical, and geological science — and the subject of reports in relation to lakes, rivers, deserts, and savages hardly above the condition of mere wild animals, which inflamed desire to know what this terra incognita really contained. It was a se- rious enterprise, at the commencement of winter, to undertake the traverse of such a region, and with a party consisting only of twenty -five persons, and they of many nations — American, French, German, Canadian, Indian, and colored —and most of them young, several being under twenty-one years of age. All knew that a strange country was to be explored, and dangers and hardships to be encountered ; but no one blenched at the pros- pect. On the contrary, courage and confidence animated the whole party. Cheerfulness, readiness, subordination, prompt obedience, characterized all ; nor did any extremity of peril and privation, to which we were afterwards exposed, ever belie, or derogate from, the fine spirit of this brave and gen- erous commencement. The course of the narrative will show at what point, and for what reasons, we were prevented from the complete execu- tion of this plan, after having made considerable progress upon it, and how we were forced by desert plains and mountain ranges, and deep snows, far to the south and near to the Pacific ocean, and along the western base of the Sierra Nevada; where, indeed, a new and ample field of exploration opened itself before us. For the present, we must follow the narrative, which will first lead us south along thewalley of Fall river, and the east- ern base of the Cascade range, to the Tlamath lake, from which, or its margin, three rivers go in three directions — one west, to the ocean ; another north, to the Columbia; the third south, to California. 197 C J Fol the support of the party, I had provided at Vancouver a supply of provisions for not less than three months, consisting principally of flour, peas, and tallow — the latter being used in cooking; and, in addition to this, I had purchased at the mission some California cattle, which were to "be driven on the hoof. We had 104 mules and horses— part of the latter pro- cured from the Indians about the mission ;> and for the sustenance of which, our reliance was upon the grass which we should find, and the soft porous wood, which was to be its substitute when there was none. Mr. Fitzpatrick, with Mr. Talbot and the remainder of our party, arriv- ed on the 21st; and the camp was now closely engaged in the labor of preparation. Mr. Perkins succeeded in obtaining as a guide to the Tlamath lake two Indians — one of whom had been there, and bore the marks of several wounds he had received from some of the Indians in the neighbor- hood ; and the other went along for company. In order to enable us to obtain horses, he despatched messengers to the various Indian villages in the neighborhood, informing them that we were desirous to purchase, and appointing a day for them to bring them in. We made, in the mean time, several excursions in the vicinity. Mr. Perkins walked with Mr. Preuss and myself to the heights, about nine miles distant, on the opposite side of the river, whence, in fine weather, an exten- sive view may be had over the mountains, including seven great peaks of the Cascade range ; but clouds, on this occasion, destroyed the anticipated pleas- ure, and we obtained bearings only to three that were visible : Mount Reg- nier, St. Helens, and Mount Hood. On the heights, about one mile south of the mission, a very fine view may be had of Mount Hood and St. Helens. In order to determine their positions with as much accuracy as possible, the angular distances of the peaks were measured with the sextant, at dif- ferent fixed points from which they could be seen. The Indians brought in their horses at the appointed time, and we suc- ceeded in obtaining a number in exchange for goods ; but they were rela- tively much higher here, where goods are plenty and at moderate prices, than we had found them in the more eastern part of our voyage. Several of the Indians inquired very anxiously to know if we had any dollars; and the horses we procured were much fewer in number than I had desired, and of thin, inferior quality ; the oldest and poorest being those that were sold to us. These horses, as ever in our journey you will have occasion to remark, are valuable for hardihood and great endurance. November 24. — At this place one of the men was discharged ; and at the request of Mr. Perkins, a Chinook Indian, a lad of nineteen, who was ex- tremely desirous to “see the whiles,” and make some acquaintance with our institutions, was received into the party, under my special charge, with the understanding that I would again return him to ins friends. He had hved for some time in the household of Mr. Perkins, and spoke a few words of the English language. November 25. — We were all up early, in the excitement of turning to- wards home. The stars were brilliant, and the morning cold — the ther- mometer at daylight 26°. Our preparations had been finally completed, and to-day we commenced our journey. The little wagon which had hitherto carried the instruments I judged it necessary to abandon; and it was accordingly presented to the mission. In all our long travelling, it had never been overturned or injured by any accident of the road ; and the only things broken were the glass L T t i i 198 ] lamps, and one of the front panels, which had been kicked out by ai/un- ruly Indian horse. The howitzer was the only wheeled carriage now re- maining. We started about noon, when the weather had become dis- agreeably cold, with flurries of snow. Our friend Mr. Perkins, whose kindkess had been active and efficient during our stay, accompanied us sev- eral miles on our road; when he bade us farewell, and consigned us to the care of our guides. Ascending to the uplands beyond the southern fork of the Tinaneiis .creek, we found the snow lying on the ground in frequent patches, although the pasture appeared good, and the new short grass was fresh and green. We travelled over high, hilly land, and encamped on a little branch of Tinanens creek, where there were good grass and timber. The southern bank was covered with snow, which was scattered over the bottom; and the little creek, its borders lined with ice, had a chilly and wintry look. A number of Indians had accompanied us ,so far on our road, and remained with us during the night. Two bad-looking fellows, who were detected in stealing, were tied and laid before the fire, and guard mounted over them during the night. The night was cold, and partially clear. November 26. — The morning was cloudy and misty, and but a few stars visible. During the night water froze in the tents, and at sunrise the ther- mometer was at 20°. Left camp at 10 o’clock, the road leading along tribu- taries of the Tinanens, and being, so far, very good. We turned to the right at the fork of the trail, ascending by a steep ascent along a spur to the dividing grounds between this stream and the waters of Fall river. The creeks we had passed were timbered principally with oak and other de- ciduous trees. Snow lies every where here on the ground, and we had a slight fall during the morning : but towards noon the gray sky yielded to a bright sun. This morning we had a grand view of St. Helens and Reg- nier : the latter appeared of a conical form, and very lofty, leading the eye far up into the sky. The line of the timbered country is very distinctly marked here, the bare hills making with it a remarkable contrast. The summit of the ridge commanded a fine view of the Taih prairie, and the stream running through it, which is a tributary to the Fall river, the chasm of which is visible to the right. A steep descent of a mountain hill brought us down into the valley, and we encamped on the stream after dark, guided by the light of fires, which some naked Indians belonging to a village on the opposite side were kindling for us on the bank. This is a large branch of the Fall river. There was a broad band of thick ice some fifteen feet wide on either bank, and the river current is swift and bold. The night was cold and clear, and we made our astronomical observation this even- ing with the thermometer at 20°. In anticipation of coming hardship, and to spare our horses, there was much walking done to-day ; and Mr. Fitzpatrick and myself made the day’s journey on foot. Somewhere near the mouth of this stream are the falls from which the river takes its name. November 27. — A fine view of Mount Hood this morning ; a rose-colored mass of snow, 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. St He t si and the IVhite Crane , two Indian chiefs who had accompanied us thus far, took their leave, and we resumed our journey at 10 o’clock. We ascended by a steep hill from the river bottom, which is sandy, to a 199 C 174 ] volcanic plain, around which lofty &lls sweep in a regular form. It is cut up by gullies of basaltic rock, escarpments of which appear every w'here in the hills. This plain is called the Taih prairie, and is sprinkled with some scattered pines. The country is now far more interesting to a traveller than the route along the Snake and Columbia rivers. To our right we had always the mountains, from the midst of whose dark pine forests the isolated snowy peaks were looking out like giants. They served us for grand beacons to show the rate at which we advanced in our journey. Mount Hood was already becoming an old acquaintance, and, when we ascended the prairie, we obtained a bearing to Mount Jefferson, S. 23° W. The In- dian superstition has peopled these lofty peaks with evil spirits, and they have never yet known the tread of a human foot. Sternly drawn against the sky, they look so high and steep, so snowy and rocky, that it would appear almost impossible to climb them; but still a trial would have its attractions for*the adventurous traveller. A small trail takes off through the prairie, towards a low point in the range, and perhaps there is here a pass into the Walahmette valley. Crossing the plain, we descended by a rocky hill into the bed of a tributary of Fall river, and made an early en- campment. The water was in holes, and frozen over, and we were obliged to cut through the ice for the animals to drink. An ox, which was rather troublesome to drive, was killed here for food. The evening was fine, the sky being very clear, and I obtained an im- mersion of the third satellite, with a good observation of an emersion of 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 — the ther- mometer during the observations standing at 9°. November 28. — The sky was clear in the morning, but suddenly clouded over, and at sunrise began to snow, with the thermometer at 18°. We traversed a broken high country, partly timbered with pine, and about noon crossed a mountainous ridge, in which, from the rock occa- sionally displayed, the formation consists of compact lava. Frequent tracks of elk were visible in the snow. On our right, in the afternoon, a high plain, partially covered with pine, extended about ten miles, to the foot of the Cascade mountains. At evening we encamped in a basin narrowly surrounded by rocky hills, after a day’s journey of 21 miles. The surrounding rocks are either vol- canic products, or highly altered by volcanic action, consisting of quartz and reddish-colored siliceous masses. November 29. — We emerged from the basin, by a narrow pass, upon a considerable branch of Fall river, running to the eastward through a nar- row valley. The trail, descending this stream, brought us to a' locality of hot springs, which were on either bank. Those on the left, which were formed into deep handsome basins, would have been delightful baths, if the outer air had not been so keen, the thermometer in these being at 89°. There were others, on the opposite side, at the foot of an escarpment, in which the temperature of the water was 134°. These waters deposited around the spring a brecciated mass of quartz and feldspar, much of it of a reddish color. We crossed the stream here, and ascended again to a high plain, from an elevated point of which we obtained a view of six of the great peaks — Mount Jefferson, followed to the southward by two others of the same class; and succeeding, at a still greater distance to the southward, were three other 200 [ 174 ] lower peaks, clustering together in a branch ridge. These, like the great peaks, were snowy masses, secondary only to them ; and, from the best ex- amination our time permitted, we are inclined to believe that the range to which they belong is a branch from the great chain which here bears to the westward. The trail during the remainder of the day followed near to the large stream on the left, which was continuously walled in between high rocky banks. We halted for the night on a little by-stream. November 30. — Our journey to-day was short. Passing over a high plain, on which were scattered cedars, with frequent beds of volcanic rock in fragments interspersed among the grassy grounds, we arrived suddenly on the verge of the steep and rocky descent to the valley of the stream we had been following, and which here ran directly across our path, emerging from the mountains on the right. You will remark that the country is abundantly watered with large streams, which pour down from the neigh- boring range. These streams are characterized by the narrow and chasm-like valleys in which they run, generally sunk a thousand feet below the plain. At the verge of this plain, they frequently commence in vertical precipices of basaltic rock, and which leave only casual places at which they can be entered by horses. The road across the country, which ‘would otherwise be very good, is rendered impracticable for wagons by these streams. There is another trail among the mountains, usually followed in the summer, which the snows now compelled us to avoid ; and I have reason to believe that this, passing nearer the heads of these streams, would afford a much better road. At such places, the gun carriage was unlimbered, and separately descend- ed by hand. Continuing a few miles up the left bank of the river, we en- camped early in an open bottom among the pines, a short distance below a lodge of Indians. Here, along the river the bluffs present escarpments seven or eight hundred feet in height, containing strata of a very fine porce- lain clay, overlaid, at the height of about five hundred feet, by a massive stratum of compact basalt one hundred feet in thickness, which again is suc- ceeded above by other strata of volcanic rocks. The clay strata are variously colored, some of them very nearly as white as chalk, and very fine grained. Specimens brought from these have been subjected to microscopical exami- nation by Professor Bailey, of West Point, and are considered by hirp to constitute one of the most remarkable deposites of fluviatile .infusoria on record. While they abound in genera and species which are common in fresh water, but which rarely thrive where the water is even brackish, not one decidedly marine form is to be found among them ; and their fresh- water origin is therefore beyond a doubt. It is equally certain that they lived and died at the situation where they were found, as they could scarce- ly have been transported by running waters without an admixture of sandy particles; from which, however, they are remarkably free. Fossil infusoria of a fresh-water origin had been previously detected by Mr. Bailey in speci- mens brought by Mr. James D. Dana from the tertiary formation of Ore- gon. Most of the species in those specimens differed so much from those now living and known, that he was led to infer that they might belong to extinct species, and considered them also as affording proof of an alterna- tion, in the formation from which they were obtained, of fresh and salt water deposites, which, common enough in Europe, had not hitherto been noticed in the United States'. Coming evidently from a locality entirely 201 [ 174 ] different, our specimens* show very few species in common with those brought by Mr. Dana, but bear a much closer resemblance to those inhab- iting the northeastern States. It is possible that they are from a more, re- cent deposite ; but the presence of a few remarkable forms which are com- mon to the two localities renders it more probable that there is no great difference in their age. I obtained here a good observation of an emersion of the second satellite ; but clouds, which rapidly overspread the sky, prevented the usual number of observations. Those which we succeeded in obtaining are, however, good ; and give for the latitude of the place 44° 35' 23", and for the longi- tude from the satellite 121° 10' 25". December 1 . — A short distance above our encampment, we crossed this river, which was thickly lined along its banks with ice. In common with all these mountain streams, the water was very clear, and the current swift. It was not every where fordable, and the water was three or four feet deep at our crossing, and perhaps a hundred feet wide. As was frequently the case at such places, one of the mules got his pack, consisting of sugar, thoroughly wet, and turned into molasses. One of the guides informed me that this was a “ salmon water/ 1 and pointed out several ingeniously contrived places to catch the fish ; among the pines in the bottom I saw an immense one, about twelve feet in diameter. A steep ascent from the op- posite bank delayed us again ; and as, by the information of our guides, grass would soon become very scarce, we encamped on the height of land, in a marshy place among the pines, where there was an abundance of grass. We found here a single Nez Perce family, who had a very hand- some horse in their drove, which we endeavored to obtain in exchange for a good cow ; but the man “ had two hearts/’ or, rather, he had one and his wife had another : she wanted the cow, but he loved the horse too much to part with it. These people attach great value to cattle, with which they are endeavoring to supply themselves. December 2. — In the first rays of the sun, the mountain peaks this morn- ing presented a beautiful appearance, the snow being entirely covered with a hue of rosy gold. We travelled to-day over a very stony, elevated plain, about which were scattered cedar and pine, and encamped on another large branch of Fall river. We were gradually ascending to a more elevated region, which would have been indicated by the rapidly increasing quanti- ties of snow and ice, had we not known it by other means. A mule which was packed with our cooking utensils wandered off among the pines unper- ceived, and several men were sent back to search for it. December 3. — Leaving Mr. Fitzpatrick with the party, I went ahead with the howitzer and a few men, in order to gain time, as -our progress with the giun was necessarily slower. The country continued the same — very stony, with cedar and pine ; and we rode on until dark, when we en- camped on a hill side covered with snow, which we used to-night for water, as we were unable to reach any stream. December 4. — Our animals had taken the back track, although a great number were hobbled ; and we were consequently delayed until noon. Shortly after we had left this encampment, the mountain trail from the * The specimens obtained at this locality are designated in the appendix by the Nos. 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60. The results obtained by Mr. Bailey in his examination of specimens from the infusorial strata, with a plate exhibiting some of the most interesting forms, will be found im- bodied in the appendix. 202 C 174 ] Dalles joined that on which we were travelling. After passing for several miles over an artemisia plain, the trail entered a beautiful pine forest, through which we travelled for several hours ; and about 4 o’clock descended into the valley of another large branch, on the bottom of which were spaces of open pines, with occasional meadows of good grass, in one of which we encamped. The stream is very swift and deep, and about 40 feet wide, and nearly half frozen over. Among the timber here, are larches 140 feet high, and over 3 feet in diameter. We had to-night the rare sight of a lunar rainbow. December 5. — To-day the country was all pine forest, and beautiful weather made our journey delightful. It was too warm at noon for winter clothes ; and the snow, which lay every where in patches through the forest, was melting rapidly. After a few hours’ ride, we came upon a fine stream in the midst of the forest, which proved to be the principal branch of Fall river. It was occasionally 200 feet wide — sometimes narrowed to 50 feet ; the waters very clear, and frequently deep. We ascended along the river, which sometimes presented sheets of foaming cascades ; its banks occa- sionallyTdackened with masses of scoriated rock, and found a good en- campment on the verge of an open bottom, which had been an old camp- ing ground of the Cayuse Indians. A great number of deer horns were lying about, indicating game in the neighborhood. The timber was uni- formly large ; some of the pines measuring 22 feet in circumference at the ground, and 12 to 13 feet at six feet above. In all our journeying, we had never travelled through a country where the rivers were so abounding in falls, and the name of this stream is singu- larly characteristic. At every place where we come in the neighborhood of the river, is heard the roaring of falls. The rock along the banks of the stream, and the ledge over which it falls, is a scoriated basalt, with a bright metallic fracture. The stream goes over in one clear pitch, succeeded by a foaming cataract of several hundred yards. In the little bottom above the falls, a small stream discharges into an entonnoir , and disappears below. We had made an early encampment, and in the course of the evening Mr. Fitzpatrick joined us here with the lost mule. Our lodge poles were nearly worn out, and we found here a handsome set, leaning against one of the trees, very white, and cleanly scraped. Had the owners been here, we would have purchased them ; but as they were not, we merely left the old ones in their place, with a small quantity of tobacco. December 6. — The morning was frosty and clear. We continued up* the stream on undulating forest ground, over which there was scattered much fallen timber. We met here a village of Nez Perce Indians, who appeared to be coming down from the mountains, and had with them fine bands of horses. With them were a few Snake Indians of the root-digging species. From the forest we emerged into an open valley ten or twelve miles wide, through which the stream was flowing tranquilly, upward of two hundred feet broad, with occasional islands, and* bordered with fine broad bottoms. Crossing the river, which here issues from a great moun- tain ridge on the right, we continued up the southern and smaller branch, over a level country, consisting of fine meadow land, alternating with pine forests, and encamped on it early in the evening. A warm sunshine made the day pleasant. December 7. — To-day we had good travelling ground; the i rail leading sometimes over rather sandy soils in the pine forest, and sometimes over 203 [ 1^4 ] meadow land along the stream. The great beauty of the country in summer constantly suggested itself to our imaginations; and even now we found it beautiful, as we rode along these meadows, from half a mile to two miles- wide. The rich soil and excellent water, surrounded by noble forests, make a picture that would delight the eye of a farmer ; and I regret that the very small scale of the map would not allow us to give some repre- sentation of these features of the country. I observed to-night an occultation of y G e minor um ; which, although at the bright limb of the moon, appears to give a very good result, that has been adopted for the longitude. The occultation, observations of satellites, and our position deduced from daily surveys with the compass, agree re- markably well together, and mutually support and strengthen each other. The latitude of the camp is 43° 30' 36"; and longitude, deduced from the occultation, 121° 33' 50". December 8. — To-day we crossed the last branch of the Fall river, issu- ing, like all the others we had crossed, in a southwesterly direction from the mountains. Our direction was a little east of south, the trail leading con- stantly through pine forests. The soil was generally bare, consisting, in greater part, of a yellowish white pumice stone, producing varieties of magnificent pines, but not a blade of grass; and to-night our horses were obliged to do without food, and use snow for water. These pines are re- markable for the red color of the bolls ; and among them occurs a species, of which the Indians had informed me when leaving the Dalles. The un- usual size of the cone (16 or 18 inches long) had attracted their attention; and they pointed it out to me among the curiosities of the country. They are more remarkable for their large diameter than their height, which usually averages only about 120 feet. The leaflets are short — only two or three inches long, and five in a sheath ; the bark of a red color. December 9 . — The trail leads always through splendid pine forests. Crossing dividing grounds by a very fine road, we descended very gently towards the south. The weather was pleasant, and we halted late. The soil was very much like that of yesterday ; and on the surface of a hill, near our encampment, were displayed beds of pumice stone ; but the soil produced no grass, and again the animals fared badly. December 10. — The country began to improve ; and about 11 o’clock we reached a spring of cold water on the edge of a savannah, or grassy mea- dow, which our guides informed us was an arm of the Tlamath lake ; and a few miles further we entered upon an extensive meadow, or lake of grass, surrounded by timbered mountains. This was the Tlamath lake. It was a picturesque and beautiful spot, and rendered more attractive to us by the abundant and excellent grass, which our animals, after travelling through pine forests, so much needed; but the broad sheet of water which consti- tutes a lake was not to be seen. Overlooking it, immediately west, were several snowy knobs, belonging to what we have considered a branch of the Cascade range. A low point covered with pines made out into the lake, which afforded us a good place for an encampment, and for the secu- rity of our horses, which were guarded in view on the open meadow. The character of courage and hostility attributed to the Indians of this quarter induced more than usual precaution ; and, seeing smokes rising from the middle of the lake (or savannah) and along the opposite shores, I directed the howitzer to be fired. It was the first time our guides had seen it dis- charged ; and the bursting of the shell at a distance, which was something 204 [ 174 ] like the second fire of the gun, amazed and bewildered them with delight. It inspired them with triumphant feelings ; but on the camps at a distance the effect was different, for the smokes in the lake and on the shores im- mediately disappeared. The point on which we were encamped forms, with the opposite eastern shore, a narrow neck, connecting the body of the lake with a deep cove or bay which receives the principal affluent stream, and over the greater part of which the water (or rather ice) was at this time dispersed in shallow pools. Among the grass, and scattered over the prairie lake, appeared to be similar marshes. It is simply a shallow basin, which, for a short period at the time of melting snows, is covered with water from the neighboring mountains ; but this probably soon runs off, and leaves for the remainder of the year a green savannah, through the midst of which the river Tla- math, which flows to the ocean, winds its way to the outlet on the south- western side. December II. — No Indians made their appearance, and I determined to pay them a visit. Accordingly, the people were gathered together, and we rode out towards the village in the middle of the lake, which one of our guides had previously visited. It could not be directly approached, as a large part of the lake appeared a marsh ; and there were sheets of ice among the grass, on which our horses could not keep their footing. We therefore followed the guide for a considerable distance along the forest ; and then turned off towards the village, which we soon began to see was a few large huts, on the tops of which were collected the Indians. When we had ar- rived within half a mile of the village, two persons were seen advancing to meet us; and, to please the fancy of our guides, we ranged ourselves into a long line, riding abreast, while they galloped ahead to meet the strangers. We were surprised, on riding up, to find one of them a woman, having never before known a squaw to take any part in the business of war. They were the village chief and his wife, who, in excitement and alarm at the unusual event and appearance, had come out to meet their fate together. The chief was a very prepossessing Indian, with very handsome features, and a singularly soft and agreeable voice — so remarkable as to attract gen- eral notice. The huts were grouped together on the bank of the river, which, from being spread out in a shallow marsh at the upper end of the lake, was col- lected here into a single stream. They were large round huts, perhaps 20 feet in diameter, with rounded tops, on which was the door by which they descended into the interior. Within, they were supported by posts and beams. Almost like plants, these people seem to have adapted themselves to the soil, and to be growing on what the immediate locality afforded. Their only subsistence at this time appeared to be asmall fish, great quantitiesof which, that had been smoked and dried, were suspended on strings about the lodge. Heaps of straw were lying around; and their residence in the midst of grass and rushes had taught them a peculiar skill in converting this material to useful purposes. Their shoes were made of straw or grass, which seemed well adapted for a snowy country ; and the women wore on their head a closely, woven basket, which made a very good cap. Among other things, were parti-colored mats about four feet square, which we pur- chased to lay on the snow under our blankets, and to use for table cloths. Numbers of singular-looking dogs, resembling wolves, were sitting on 205 [ 174 ] the tops of the huts ; and of these we purchased a young one, which, after its birthplace, was named Tlamath. The language spoken by these In- dians is different from that of the Shoshonee and Columbia river tribes ; and otherwise than by sighs they cannot understand each other. They made us comprehend that they were at war with the people who lived to the southward and to the eastward ; but I could obtain from them no cer- tain information. The river on which they live enters the Cascade moun- tains On the western side of the lake, and breaks through them by a pas- sage impracticable for travellers ; but over the mountains, to the northward, are passes which present no other obstacle than in the almo'st impenetrable forests. Unlike any Indians we had previously seen, these wore shells in their noses. We returned to our camp, after remaining here an hour or two, accompanied by a number of Indians. In order to recruit a little the strength of our animals, and obtain some acquaintance with the locality, we remained here for the remainder of the day. By observation, the latitude of the camp was 42° 56' 51"; and the diameter of the lake, or meadow, as has been intimated, about 20 miles. It is a picturesque and beautiful spot; and, under the hand of cultivation, might become a little paradise. Game is found in the forest; timbered and snowy mountains skirt it, and fertility characterizes it. Situated near the heads of three rivers, and on the line of inland communication with Cali- fornia, and near to Indians noted for treachery, it will naturally, in the pro- gress of the settlement of Oregon, become a point for military occupation and settlement. From Tlamath lake, the further continuation of our voyage assumed a • character of discovery and exploration, which, from the Indians here, we could obtain no information to direct, and where the imaginary maps of the country, instead of assisting, exposed us to suffering and defeat. In our journey across the desert, Mary’s lake, and the famous Buenaventura river, were two points on which I relied to recruit the animals, and repose the party. Forming, agreeably to the best maps in my possession, a connected water line from the Rocky mountains to the Pacific ocean, I felt no other anxiety than to pass safely across the intervening desert to the banks of the Buenaventura, where, in the softer climate of a more southern latitude, our horses might find grass to sustain them, and ourselves be sheltered from the rigors of winter and from the inhospitable desert. The guides who had conducted us thus far on our journey were about to return ; and I endeavored in vain to obtain others to lead us, even for a few days, in the direction (east) which we wished to go. The chief to whom I applied alleged the want of horses, and the snow on the mountains across which our course would carry us, and the sickness of his family, as reasons for refusing to go with us. December 12. — This morning the camp was thronged with Tlamath Indians from the southeastern shore of the lake; but, knowing the treach- erous disposition which is a remarkable characteristic of the Indians south of the Columbia, the camp was kept constantly on its guard. I was not unmindful of the disasters which Smith and other travellers had met with in this country, and therefore was equally vigilant in guarding against treachery and violence. According to the best information I had been able to obtain from the In- dians, in a few days’ travelling we should reach another large water, prob- ably a lake, which they indicated exactly in the course we were about to 206 C 174 ] pursue. We struck our tents at 10 o’clock, and crossed the lake in a nearly east direction, where it has the least extension — the breadth of the arm being here only about a mile and a half. There were ponds of ice, with but little grass, for the greater part of the way ; and it was difficult to get the pack animals across, which fell frequently, and could not get up with their loads, unassisted. The morning was very unpleasant, snow falling at intervals in large flakes, and the sky dark. In about two hours we suc- ceeded in getting the animals over ; and, after travelling another hour along the eastern shore of the lake, we turned up into a cove where there was a sheltered place among the timber, with good grass, and encamped. The Indians, who had accompanied us so far, returned to their village on the southeastern shore. Among the pines here, I noticed some five or six feet in diameter. December 13. — The night has been cold; the peaks around the lake gleam out brightly in the morning stin, and the thermometer is at zero. We continued up the hollow formed by a small affluent to the lake, and immediately entered an open pine forest on the mountain. The way here was sometimes obstructed by fallen trees, and the snow was four to twelve inches deep. The mules at the gun pulled heavily, and walking was a little laborious. In the midst of the wood, we heard the sound of galloping horses, and were agreeably surprised by the unexpected arrival of our Tlamath chief, with several Indians. He seemed to have found his con- duct inhospitable in letting the strangers depart without a guide through the snow, and had come, with a few others, to pilot us a day or two on the way. # After travelling in an easterly direction through the forest for about four hours, we reached a considerable stream, with a border of good grass.; and here, by the advice of our guides, we encamped. It is about thirty feet wide, and two to four feet deep; the water clear, with some current; and, according to the information of our Indians, is the principal affluent to the lake, and the head water of the Tlamath river. A very clear sky enabled me to obtain here to-night good observations, including an emersion of the first satellite of Jupiter, which give for the lon- gitude 121° 20' 42", and for the latitude 42° 5T 26". This emersion coin- cides remarkably well with the result obtained from an occultation at the encampment of December 7th to 8th, 1S43 ; from which place, the line of our survey gives an easting of thirteen miles. The day’s journey was 12 miles. December 14. — Our road was over a broad mountain, and we rode seven hours in a thick snow storm, always through pine forests, when we came down upon the head waters of another stream, on which there was grass. The snow lay deep on the ground, and only the high swamp grass appeared above. The Indians were thinly clad, and I had remarked during the_day that they suffered from the cold. This evening they told me that the snow /was getting too deep on the mountain, and I could not induce them to go any farther. The stream we had struck issued from the mountain in an easterly direction, turning to the southward a short distance below ; and, drawing its course upon the ground, they made us comprehend that it pur- 1 its way for a long distance in that direction, uniting with many other streams, and gradually becoming a great river. Without the subsequent information, which confirmed the opinion, we became immediately satisfied that this water formed the principal stream of the Sacramento river ; and, consequently, that this main affluent of the bay of San Francisco had its source within the limits of the United States, and opposite a tributary to the t 207 [ 174 ] Columbia, and near the head of the Tlamath river, which goes to the ocean north of 42°, and within the United States. December 15. — A present, consisting of useful goods, afforded much satis- faction to our guides ; and, showing them the national flag, I explained that it was a symbol of our nation ; and they engaged always to receive it in a friendly manner. The chief pointed out a course, by following which we would arrive at the big water, where no more snow was to be found. Trav- elling in a direction N. 60° E. by compass, which the Indians informed me would avoid a bad mountain to the right, we crossed the Sacramento where it turned to the southward, and entered a grassy level plain — a smaller Grand Rond ; from the lower end of which the river issued into an inviting country of low rolling hills. Crossing a hard-frozen swamp on the farther side of the Rond, we entered again the pine forest, in which very deep snow made our travelling slow and laborious. We were slowly but gradually ascend- ing a mountain ; and, after a hard journey of seven hours, we came to some naked places among the timber, where a few tufts of grass showed above- the snow, on the side of a hollow ; and here we encamped. Our cow, which every day got poorer, was killed here, but the meat was rather tough. December 16. — We travelled this morning through snow about three feet deep, which, being crusted, very much cut the feet of our animals. The mountain still gradually rose ; we crossed several spring heads covered with quaking asp; otherwise it was all pine forest. The air was dark with falling snow, which every where weighed down the trees. The depths of the forest were profoundly still ; and below, we scarce felt a breath of the wind which whirled the snow through their branches. I found that it required some * exertion of constancy to adhere steadily to one course through the woods, when we were uncertain how far the forest extended, or what lay beyond; and, on account of our nnimals, it would be bad to spend another night on the mountain. Towards noon the forest looked clear ahead, appearing sud- denly to terminate ; and beyond a certain point we could see no trees. Riding rapidly ahead to this spot, we found ourselves on the verge of a ver- tical and rocky wall of the mountain. At our feet — more than a thousand feet below — we looked into a green prairie country, in which a beautiful lake, some twenty miles in length, was spread along the foot of the moun- tains, its shores bordered with green grass. Just then the sun broke out among the clouds, and illuminated the country below, while around us the storm raged fiercely. Not a particle of ice was to be seen on the lake, or snow on its borders, and all was like summer or spring. The glow of the sun in the valley below brightened up our hearts with sudden pleasure; and we made the woods ring with joyful shouts to those behind ; and gradually, as each came up, he stopped to enjoy the unexpected scene. Shivering on snow three feet deep, and stiffening in a cold north wind, we exclaimed at once that the names of Summer Lake and Winter Ridge should be applied to these two proximate places of such sudden and violent contrast. We were now immediately on the verge of the forest land, in which we had been travelling so many days; and, looking forward to the east, scarce a tree was to be seen. Viewed from our elevation, the face of the country exhibited only rocks and grass, and presented a region in which the arte- misia became the principal wood, furnishing to its scattered inhabitants fuel for their fires, building material for their huts, and shelter for the small game which ministers to their hunger and nakedness. Broadly marked by the boundary of the mountain wall, and immediately below us, were the 208 [ 174 ] first waters of that Great Interior Basin which has the Wahsatch and Bear river mountains for its eastern, and the Sierra Nevada for -its western rim; and the edge of which we had entered upwards of three months before, at the Great Salt lake. When we had sufficiently admired the scene below, we began to think about descending, which here was impossible, and we turned towards the north, travelling always along the rocky wall. We continued on for four or five miles, making ineffectual attempts at several places ; and at length succeeded in getting down at one which was extremely difficult of descent. Night had closed in before the foremost reached the bottom, and it was dark before we all found ourselves together in the valley. There were three or four half dead dry cedar trees on the shore, and those who first arrived kindled bright fires to light on the others. One of the mules rolled over and over two or three hundred feet into a ravine, but recovered himself, without any other injury than to his pack; and the howitzer was left mid- way the mountain until morning. By observation, the latitude of this en- campment is 42° 57' 22". It delayed us until near noon the next day to recover ourselves and put every thing in order ; and we made only a short camp along the western shore of the lake, which, in the summer tempera- ture we enjoyed to-day, justified the name we had given it. Our course would have taken us to the other shore, and over the highlands beyond ; but I distrusted the appearance of the country, and decided to follow a plainly beaten Indian trail leading along this side of the lake. We were now in a country where the scarcity of water and of grass makes travel- ling dangerous, and great caution was necessary. December 18. — We continued on the trail along the narrow strip of land between the lake and the high rocky wall, from which we had looked down two days before. Almost every half mile we crossed a little spring, or stream of pure cold water: and the grass was certainly as fresh and green as in the early spring. From the white efflorescence along the shore of the lake, we were enabled to judge that the water was impure, like that of lakes we subsequently found ; but the mud prevented us from approach- ing it. We encamped near the eastern point of the lake, where there ap- peared between the hills a broad and low connecting hollow with the country beyond. From a rocky hill in the rear, I could see, marked out by a line of yellow dried grass, the bed of a stream, which probably con- nected the lake with other waters in the spring. The observed latitude of this encampment is 42° 42* 37". December 19. — After two hours* ride in an easterly direction, through a low country, the high ridge with pine forest still to our right, and a rocky and bald but lower one on the left, we reached a considerable fresh-water stream, which issues from the piney mountains. So far as we had been able to judge, between this stream and the lake we had crossed dividing grounds ; and there did not appear to be any connexion, as might be in- ferred from the impure condition of the lake water. The rapid stream of pure water, roaring along between banks overhung with aspens and willows, was a refreshing and unexpected sight ; and we followed down the course of the stream, which brought us soon into a marsh, or dry lake, formed by the expanding waters of the stream. It was covered with high reeds and rushes, and large patches of ground had been turned up by the squaws in digging for roots, as if a farmer had been pre- paring the land for grain. I could not succeed in finding the plant for which 209 [ 174 J they had been digging. There were frequent trails, and fresh tracks of Indians ; and, from the abundant signs visible, the black-tailed hare appears to be numerous here. It was evident that, in other seasons, this place was a sheet of water. Crossing this marsh towards the eastern hills, and pass- ing over a bordering plain of heavy sands, covered with art$misia, we en- camped before sundown on the creek, which here was very small, having lost its water in the marshy grounds. We found here tolerably good grass* The wind to-night was high, and we had no longer our huge pine fires* but were driven to our old resource of small dried willows and artemisia. About twelve miles ahead* the valley appears to be closed in by a high* dark-looking ridge. December 20 — Travelling for a few hours down the stream this morn- ing, we turned a point of the hill on our left, and came suddenly in sight of another and much larger lake, which, along its eastern shore, was closely bordered by the high black ridge which walled it in by a precipitous face on this side. Throughout this region the face of the country is characterized by these precipices of black volcanic rock, generally enclosing the valleys of streams, and frequently terminating the hills. Often in the course of our journey we w ould be tempted to continue our road up the gentle ascent of a sloping hill, which, at the summit, w 7 ould terminate abruptly in a black preci- pice. Spread out over a length of 20 miles, the lake, when we first came in view, presented a handsome sheet of water; and I gave to it the name of Lake Abert, in honor of the chief of the corps to which I belonged. The fresh- water stream we had followed emptied into the lake by a little fall ; and I was doubtful for a moment whether to go on, or encamp at this place. The miry ground in the neighborhood of the lake did not allow us to examine the water conveniently, and, being now on the borders of a desert country, we w 7 ere moving cautiously. It was, however, still early in the day, and I continued on, trusting either that the water would be drinkable, or that we should find some little spring from the hill side. We were following an Indian trail which led along the steep rocky precipice ; a black ridge along the western shore holding out no prospect whatever. The white efflores- cences which lined the shore like a bank of snow, and the disagreeable ordor which filled the air as soon as we came near, informed us too plainly that the water belonged to one of those fetid salt lakes which are common in this region. We continued until late in the evening to w ork along the rocky shore, but, as often afterwards, the dry inhospitable rock deceived us ; and, halting on the lake, we kindled up fires to guide those w 7 ho were straggling along behind. We tried the water, but it was impossible to drink it, and most of the people to-night lay down without eating ; but. some of us, who had always a great reluctance to close the day without supper, dug holes along the shore, and obtained water, w 7 hich, being filtered, was sufficiently palatable to be used, but still retained much of its nauseat- ing taste. There was very little grass for the animals, the shore being lined with a luxuriant growth of chenopodiaceous shrubs, which burned with a quick bright flame, and made our firewood. The next morning we had scarcely travelled two hours along the shore when we reached a place where the mountains made a bay, leaving at their feet a low bottom around the lake. Here we found numerous hillocks covered with rushes, in the midst of which were deep holes, or springs, d pure water; and the bottom was covered with grass, which, although of a salt and unwholesome quality, and mixed with saline efflorescences, wa 210 [ 1^4 ] still abundant, and made a good halting place to recruit our animals; and we accordingly encamped here for the remainder of the day. I rode ahead several miles to ascertain if there was any appearance of a watercourse en- tering the lake; but found none, the hills preserving their dry character, and the shore o^the lake sprinkled with the same white powdery substance, and covered wdth the same shrubs. There were flocks of ducks on the ' lake, and frequent tracks of Indians along the shore, where the grass had been recently burnt by their fires. We ascended the bordering mountain, in order to obtain a more perfect view 7 of the lake in sketching its figure ; hills sw r eep entirely around its basin, from which the waters have no outlet. December 22. — To-day we left this forbidding lake. Impassable rocky ridges barred our progress to the eastward, and I accordingly bore off* to- wards the south, over an extensive sage plain. At a considerable distance ahead, and a little on our left, was a range of snowy mountains, and the country declined gradually tow ards the foot of a high and nearer ridge im- mediately before us, which presented the feature of black precipices, now becoming common to the country. On the summit of the ridge, snow 7 was visible ; and there being every indication of a stream at its base, we rode on until after dark, but were unable to reach it, and halted among the sage bushes on the open plain, without either grass or water. The tw r o India- rubber bags had been filled with water in the morning, which afforded suf- ficient for the camp ; and rain in the night formed pools, which relieved the thrist of the animals. Where we encamped on the bleak sandy plain, the Indians had made huts or circular enclosures, about four feet high and twelve feet broad, of artemisia bushes. Whether these had been forts or houses, or what they had been doing in such a desert place, we could not ascertain* December 23. — The weather is mild ; the thermometer at daylight 38° ; the w 7 ind having been from the southward for several days. The country has a very forbidding appearance, presenting to the eye nothing but sage and barren ridges. We rode up towards the mountain, along the foot of which we found a lake, which we could not approach on account of the mud ; and, passing around its southern end, ascended the slope at the foot of the ridge, where in some hollows we had discovered bushes and small trees — in such situations, a sure sign of water. We found here several springs, and the hill side was well sprinkled with a species of festuca — a better grass than we had found for many days. Our elevated position gave us a good view over the country, but we discovered nothing very en- couraging. Southward, about ten miles distant, was another small lake, towards which a broad trail led along the ridge ; and this appearing to afford the most practicable route, I determined to continue our journey in that direction. December 24. — We found the water of the lake tolerably pure, and en- camped at the farther end. There were some good grass and canes along the shore, and the vegetation at this place consisted principally of chenopo- diaceous shrubs. December 25. — We were roused, on Christmas morning, by a discharge from the small arms and howitzer, with which our people saluted the day ; and the name of which we bestowed on the lake. It was the first time, per- haps, in this remote and desolate region, in which it had been so commem- orated. Always, on days of religious or national commemoration, our voy- ageurs expect some unusual allowance ; and, having nothing else, I gave 211 [ 174 ] them each a little brandy, (which was carefully guarded, as one ofthe