<.A^^< r ^r ^(f- A. V. i .\ ^^HB^M I ' Ci.:^. ^ ^W T' Vi:^:<^.-- ^g' - cc^ • Xii, C ^^^p!^ ^ ^^^ ^^fl SANCKOFT LIBRAP.Y ^ ■ ( i>;>^' ;---«*^^^<' 4 ^-t. <5CL'' -...fK^ 1 %V^v^'. 4.C a*: ^i_ -^K^ «k:-^:-V-5 CO ir\ M^^ ^4f^# ice '^"SJid^ -o'-^,^ ^,X^1&^! .ta;\ .^;3;^ . i^ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 http://www.archive.org/details/reportofexplorinOOfr EPORT OF THE EXPLORING EXPEDITION M= TO Map ^Oli^cUC'' ' THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS IN THE YEAR 1842, AXD TO OREGON AND NORTH CALIEORNTA IN THE YEARS 1843 '44. BT U i< r 'T*^ BREVET CAPTAIN J. O. FREMONT, OF THE TOPOGRAPHICAL ENGmEERS, NNDKK THE ORDERS OF COL. J. J. ABERT, CHIEF OF THE TOPOGRAPHICAL BUREAU. PRIIVTFD ET ORDER OF THE SENATE OF THE UXITKD ^tk TES, WASHINGTON: GALKS AND SEATON, PRINTF^RS, 1845. L f2 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 mountain^? in 1842^ which ii hereby directed to be reprinted with the report of the last expedition. Attest : ASEURY DICKINS, * Secretary of the Senate, 1^3(1 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 1S42 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 latter 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 * the scene of astronomical or barometrical observations, furnish the mate- rials out of vvhicli 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 tlie Great Platte to the sam.e 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, I 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 palseontological skill I am indebted for the discovery of an oolitic formation in the region west of the Rocky niouiitaiiio, which furthei exaiiiiuatiuii may prove to assimilate the geology of the New to that o( 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 botahical science, thanks to the skill and care of Dr- Torrey ; and both in geology and botany the maps will be of great value, the proiile view showing the elevations at which the specimens were found, and the geographical mi^p showing the localities from which they come. The astronomical observations, taken with good instrinnents, have been tested, where they were most iniportanl, by a three-fold computation': one by Professor Walker, of Philadelphia, whose astronomical reputation is so great; anoilier 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 requite the enterprise which explores it. The report, or narrative, of this extended expedition, like the maps which illustrate it, vi/'ill be strictly confined to what was seen, and to what is necessary to show the face and character of the country, and to add 6 something to science whi^e fulfilUng the instructions of the Government^ which chiefly contemplated a mihtary 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 nothhig, either in the narrative or \\i the maps, which was not the result of positive observation. J. C. FREMONT, Brevet Captain Topographical Engineer 3> Washington CitY; March^ 1845. ^ * \ # A REPORT O^' AN EXPLORATION OF THE COUNTRY Lri>G BETWEEN THE B1I8S0URI RIVER 7lND THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. ON THE Ll>£ or IHE KAi\«Ay APs'D GREAT PLAT'lE KIVERS. Vi. 2Sth Congress, [S^.iVATE.J [ 174 ] 2d Se.ssion. REPORT. Washington, March 1, 1S43. 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- tains, and on the line of the Kansas and Great Platte rivers, I sat out from Washington city on the 2d day of May, 1S42, 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 completuig 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, iiorses, and even nudes — 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- ycription 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 voyageurs, 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 iiunter, and Christopher Carson (more familiarly known, for his exploits in the mountains, as Kit Carson) was our guide. The persons engaged m St. Louis were : Clement Lambert, J. B. L'Esperance, J. B. Lefevre, Benjamin Potra, Louis Gouin, J. B. Dumes, Basil Lajeunesse, Francois Tessier, Benjamin Cadoite, Joseph Clement, Daniel Simonds, Leonard Benoit, Michel Morly, Baptiste Bernier, Honore Ayot, Frangois Latulippe, Francois Badeau, Louis Menard, Joseph Ruelle, Moise Chardonnais, Augusta Janisse, Ra- phael Proue. [ 174 ] 10 111 addilioii to these, Heury Braiil, sou of CoL J. B. Biaiil, of St. Louis, a young man of nineteen years of age, and Randolph, a Hvely boy of twelve, son of the Hon. Thomas H. Benton, accompauied me, for the de- velopment of mind and body which such an expedition would give. We were all well armed and mounted, with tlie 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 fu-st 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 wliich 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 Ave reached the Santa Fe road, along whicli 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 liour 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 5 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 morninsr. 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 a [ 174 ] rain , we were all well soaked, and glad when morning came. We had a rainy march on the 13th, bnt the weather grew fine as the day advanced. We encamped in a remarkably beautiful situation on the Kansas blufl's, which commanded a line view of the river valley^, here from three to four miles wide. The central portion v/as occupied by a broad belt of heavy timber, and nearer the hills the prairies were of the richest verdure. One of the oxen was killed here for food. We reached the ford of the Kansas late in the afternoon of the Hth, 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 IVfissouri. 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 Une 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, witli their accompanying load. The man at the helm was timid on water, and, in his alarm, capsized the boat. Carts, barrels, boxes, and bales, were in a moment floating down the current : but all the men who were on the shore jumped into the water, without stopping to think if they could swim, and almost 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 sweets 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 witli fatigue and weariness, we remembered and mourned over our loss in the Kansas, ('arson 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 httle embarrassment as any of my ownparty, who were nearly all of French origin. ? [ 17^1 ] 1^^ On all sides was lieaid lliu strange language of in:^ own people, wiki and harmonizing well with their appearance. L 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 makirjg 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 y 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 swallow.s 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 charge of Dr. White, an agent of the Government in Oregon Territory, were about three weeks in advance of us. They consisted of men, women, and children. There were sixty -four men, and sixteen or seventeen families. They had a considerable number of cattle, and were transporting their household furniture in large heavy wagons. I understood that there had been much sickness among them, and that they had lost several children. One of the party, who had lost his child, and whose wife was very ill, had left them about one hundred miles hence on the prairies; and as a hunter, who had accompanied them, visited our camp this evening, we availed ourselves of his return to the States to write to our friends. The morning of the 18th was very unpleasant. A fine rain was falling, with cold wind from the north, and mists made the river hills look dark and gloomy. We left our camp at seven, journeying along the foot of tlie hills which border the Kansas valley, generally about three miles wide, and extremely rich. W^e halted for dinner, after a march of about thir- ? 13 [ 174 ] teen miles, on the banks of one 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 Vermillion. 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, tlie 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 simset, the barometer was at 28.S45, 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 oi 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 [ 174 ] 14 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 aviorpha 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 artemisia^ 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 arlemisia 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 flower 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 coffeCj with cream from our cow. Being milked at night, cream was thus had in the morning. Our mid-da}?- 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 tlie 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, cac//, 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 enjo^mient. We were now in the range of the Paw- nees, who were accustomed to infest this part of the country, steahng horses from companies on their way to the mountains, and, when in suffi- cient force, openly attacking and pkmdering 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 beau- 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 frequently 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 afternoori 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 [equisetuni) aff'orded 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 bUnding flash, f^ucceeded by pitchy darkness. Carson had the watch from ten to mid- night, and to him had been assigned our young compagnoiis 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= fbrtable ; 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 spurrhig up- in great haste, shouting Indians ! Indiana! 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 oft' 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 oft* 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 [ ^74 ] 16 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 [carduus leucograp/ius) had for the last day or two made its appearance ; and along the river bottom, tradescantia (inrginica) 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 98° 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. 'J'he road led across a high and level prairie ridge, where were but few plants, and those principally thistle [carduus leucographus,) and a kind of dwarf artemisia. -Antelope were seen frequently during the morning, which was very stormy. Squalls of rain, with thunder and lightning, were around us in every direction; and while we were envel- oped in one of them, a flash, which seemed to scorch our eyes as it passed, struck in the prairie within a {q\v 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 some change in the vegetation. Cacti were numerous, and all the plants of the region appeared to flourish among the warm hills. Among them the amorphcty 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 I he Kansas, aceording 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 French there eat the tender shoots in the spring, as we do asparagus. The natives make a sugar of the flowers, gathering them in the morning when they are covered with dew, and collect the cotton from 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 ] Jit7ie 21. — The aniraals were somewhat fatigued by their march of yes- terday, and, after a short journey of eighteen miles along the river bottom, I encamped near the head of Grand island, in longitude, by observation, 9S° 05' 24", latitude 40^ 39' 32". The soil here was light but rich, thougli 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, {cellis crassifolia,) is confined almost en- tirely to the islands. June 2S. — We halted to noon at an open reach of the river, which oc- cupies rather m.ore than a fourth of the valley, here only about four miles broad. The camp had been disposed with the usual precaution, the horses grazing at a little distance, attended by the guard, and we were all sitting quietly at our dinner on the grass, when suddenly we heard the startling cry '' du moiidc .'" 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 ; ''jious aliens atlraper des coups de baguette.''' They proved to be a small party of fourteen, under the charge of a man named John Lee, and, with their baggage and provisions strapped to their backs, were making their wav nn rr»of *- *|~g frontier. A brief ar.ennr.f ^-^ *^-' " .,,- . '' ■ ^" ""',^'' *^'-'. . .. KJL uien- lortunes will give some idea ol naviga- iion 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 niake 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 fur as Scott's bluffs, where their difficulties began. Sometimes they came upon places where the v/ater was spread over a great extent, and here they toiled from morning until nighty en- deavoring to drag their boat through the saiids, making only two or tliree 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 tiieir boat for days against the rapid current ; and at others, they came upon places where the water lay in holes, and, getting out to float off their boat, would fall into water up to their necks, and the next moment tumble over against a sandbar. Discouraged, at length, and finding the Platte growing every day more shallow, they dis- charged the principal part of their cargoes one hundred and thirty miles below Fort Laramie, v.^hich they secured as well as possible, and, leaving a few men to guard them, attempted to continue their voyage, laden with some light furs and their personal baggage. After fifteen or twenty days more struggling in the sands, during which they mfide but one hundred and forty miles, they sunk their barges, njade 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 appiarance, and, in our turn, a month or two afterwards, furnished the same occasion for merri- 2 [; 174 ] 18 nient to others. Even their stock of tobacco, that sine qua non of a voy- af;eur, 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 an old companion on the northern prairie, a hardened and hardly served veteran of the mountains, who had been as much hacked and scarred as an old moustache of Napoleon's "old guard." He flourished in the sobriquet of La Tulipe, and his real name I never knew. Finding that he was going to the States only because his company was bound in that direction, and that he was rather more willing to return with me, I took him again into my service. We 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, lliey had left their people on the south fork of the river, some three hun- dred miles 10 ihe wcSt^Vcrd, ar.d a party of only four in number had been to the Pawnee villages on a horse-stealing excursion, frCiT* IVtlCl^ ^^^V wer(3 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 Avere mortified by their ill success, and said the Pawnees were cowards, who shut up their horses in their lodges at night. 1 invited them to supper with me, and Randolph ar.d 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- mils 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 lenches were carduvs, cactus, 'dudi 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 ITuffaloes 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 cgld to make overcoats very comfortable.. A few miles brought us into the midst of the bufl"alo, 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, Avhen we came in view of their dark masses, there v/as 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 " avarice done ! enfant de garce V^ 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 were never without company. With pleasant weather and no enemy to fear, an abundance of the most excellent meat, and no scarcity of bread or tobacco, they were enjoying the oasis of a voyageur's life. " Three cows were killed to-day. Kit Carson had shot one, and was continuing the chase in the midst of another herd, when his horse fell headlong, but sprang up and joined the flying band. Though considerably hurt, he had the good fortune to break no bones ; and Maxwell, who was mounted on a fleet hunter, captured the runaway after a hard chase. He was on the point of shooting him, to avoid the loss of his bridle, (a 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 4Q° 49' 55". July 1. — Along our road to-day the prairie bottom was more elevated iand 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 buflalo, 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 sadclled, and Kit Carson, Maxwell, and I, started together. They were now somewhat less than half a mile dis- tant, and we rode easily along until within about three hundred yards, when a sudden agitation, a wavering in the band, and a galloping to and fro of some which were scattered along the skirts, gave us the intimation r 174 ] 20 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 nothin^,^ 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 (ew seconds the movement had commnnicated itself to tlie whole herd. A crovv'd 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 /;<75 de c/iarge,) 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 hnnter, 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 tlie 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 bail eiitering 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 v/as 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, n.nd tlie bufl'alo were not distinguishable until within thirty fret. They crowded together more densely still as I carno -r.on them, and rushed along in such a compact body, that I Co^il/J -^^^ obtain an entrance — the horse almost leaping upou tl":PlTi. In a f-^w moments the mass divided to the right and left, the horns clattering \^ ith a noise heard above every thing else, and my horse darted into the opening. Five or six balls 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 trenicndous leap, and scoured on swifter than before. I reuied up my horse, and the band swept on like a torrent, and left the place qniet and clear. Our chase had led us into dangerous ground. A praine-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 liunr, 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 wolves, 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. Juli/ 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,) 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- cessaiy. I had left the usual road before the mid-day halt, and in the af- ternooii, 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. ']'he 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, Tiaving 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 equipage had reached theleft bank safely at 6 o'clock, having to-day made 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 efiiorescences, to which a rapid evaporation in the great heat of the san 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 ^' herht salee,''^ (salt grass.) The latitude of the junction is 41°04'47", andlongitude,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 [ 174 ] 22 well a supper of roasted ribs and boudins, the chef d^oeiivre of a prairie cook. Mosquitoes thronged about us this evening; but, by 10 o'clock, when the thermometer liad 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 w^hat 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 tlie 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 bois de vachcy 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 buffalo calf broke through the camp, followed by a couple of wolves. In its fright, it had probably mistaken us for a band of buffalo. The wolves were obliged to make a circuit 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 weak; and had there been a saddled horse at hand, he would have fared better. Leaving camp, our road soon approached the hills, in which strata of a marl like that of the Chimney rock, hereafter described, 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, which have gradu- ally raised their beds four to ten feet above the level of ihe prairie, which they cross, making each one of them a miniature Po. Raised in this way above the surrounding prairie, without any bank, the long yellow and winding line of their beds resembles a causeway from the hills to the liver. Many spots on the prairie are yellow with sunflower, [helianthus.) 23 [ 17^ ] 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 colpmn of buffalo came galloping down, making directly to the river. By the time the leading herds had reached the water, the prairie was darkened with the dense masses. Immediately before us, when the bands first came down into the valley, stretched an unbroken line, the head of which was lost among the river hills on the opposite side ; and still they poured down from the ridge on our right. From hill to hill, the prairie bottom was certainly not less than two miles wide ; and, allowing the animals to be ten feet apart, and only ten in a line, there were already eleven thousand in view. Some idea may thus be formed of their number when they had occupied the whole plain. In a short time they surrounded us on every side ; extending for several miles in the rear, and forward as far as the eye could reach ; leaving around us, as we advanced, an open space of only two or three hundred yards. This movement of the buffalo indicated to us the presence of Indians on the North fork. I halted earlier than usual, about forty miles from the junction, and all hands were soon busily engaged in preparing a feast to celebrate the day. The kindness of our friends at St. Louis had provided us with a large supply of excellent preserves and rich fruit cake; and when these were added to a 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 Lor^^s peak. There I hoped to obtain some mules, which I found Would be necessary to relieve my horses. In a military point of view, I was desirous to form some opinion of the country relative to the establishment of posts on a line connecting the settlements with the South p^ss 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 a'wait my arrival, which would be prior to the IGth, 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 aflbrded 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 determ.ined to send Mr. Preuss back to the party. His horse, too, appeared in no condition to support the journeyj and accordingly, after breakfast, betook 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 num.ber, 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 {qw trees, a kind of long leaved willow, standing; and 25 [ 174 ] nutnerous trunks of large trees were scattered aBoiit on the ground. In many similar places I had occasion to retnark an apparent progressive de- €ay 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, atid 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 amdrp/i(i'\vRsirequeTii among the ravines, but the sunflower {heli- 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. T 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 hard 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 thie. 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 wind, I could lie here with a sensation of satisfied enjoyment, and hear the wind blow, and the rain patter close to my head, and know that I should be at least half dry. 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 np 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 L 174 ] 26 in every direction. A small drove of wild horses n^ade their appearance on the low river bottoms, a mile or two to the left, and I 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 Avhich he succeeded — approaching within a 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 tlie 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 2Q.\92, 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 order. 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 had neglected to secure our horses, thinking it an unnecessary precau- 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 the prairie, with perpendicular banks, bordered by a fringe of green cotton wood, 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 rivor, we reached the bank in about a mile, and were delighted to find an old tree, with thick foliage and spreading branches, where we encamped. At sunset, the barometer was at 25.950,. 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". Jul^ 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 rest^. 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 ihem 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 [ 174 ] , 28 triggers; mofi 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 "Arapahol" 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 muuitude 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 t!ie men, whom I found aiming at one, which he was about to kill for a wolf The day had become very hot. The air was clear, with a very slight breeze; and now, at 12 o'clock, while the barometer stood at 25.920, the attached thermometer was at 108°. 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. y\fter 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 twe 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 J 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 tob icco 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 [ 174 ] will langh 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 ray 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 directiorj. The clouds of dust soon covered the whole scene, 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, tlirougli the clouds of dust which the sun made lunjiinous, we could see for a moment two or three buffalo dashirig 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 jouriiey in (he 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, ihe I,^5^C?C- ward road was covered with the returning horseiyt^^p,. It was. a pleasant contrast with the desert rond -S had been travelhng. 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 v/ere 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 buffalo meat. He had lit his pipe in the mean while, and when it had been passed around, we commenced our dinner while he continued to smoke. 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 1 had made a vi^it to see the country, preparatory to the es- [ 174 ] 30 tablishmeiit 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 accisptable, 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,'' (" /e5 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 disceFuSd several persons on horseback a mile or two ahead, on the oppo- site side of the river. Thcy turned in towards the river, and we rode down to meet them. We found them to be iwG 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 ^bcfCtt 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 fiv^ 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- i 31 [ 1?4 J 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; wid; boat" laden with the furs of the last year's trade. He had met ?he same fortune a^ the voyageurs on the North fork, and, finding it impossible to proceed had Hdena''" The'"Xer"h1n""^'"'' ^'\"^l' "'^"''' "^'ch he had' name^ St TT c ;, |'»^"^", 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 a^ly broken up by small islands; and at the tim'e of our "ourney Xh was at a season of the year.when the waters were at a favorabk st^ge it was not navigable for anr-tbing drawing six inches water. The cufren was very swift— the bed of the stream a coarse gravel From the place at which we had encountered the Arapahoes, the Platte had been tolerably well fringed with timber, and the fsland here had a were^p'^Iched '"tV"^' 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 threnc7mpmen' had quite a patriarchal air. Mr. C. received us hospitably. One of the people vvas sent to gather mint, with the aid of which he concocted very good julep ; and some boiled buffalo tongue, and coffee with the luxi'ry of sugar, were soon set before us. The people in his employ were gene- Ju/^ 10._We parted with our hospitable host after breakfast the next morning, a.m xC^Cl^ed St. Vrain's fort, about forty-five miles from St. Hele- na, late in the evening. This post is ;;;:;2l?d on the South fork of the Platte, immediately under the mountains, about seventeen ffiu'ei SZZl "^ Long's peak. It IS on the right bank, on the verge of the upland prairie, abo"ut forty feet above the river, of which the immediate valley is about six hun- dred yards wide. Ihe stream is divided into various 'branches by small islands, among whicu 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 Back hills he between the stream and the mountains, whose snowy peaks glitter a few miles beyond. At the fort we found Mr. St. Vrain, who re- l!ir, , ,"' Tk ™"°*' 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 empfoyment; and several came in shortly after our arrival. I J ""'-^f ^ '" '^^°'"- f"" ^^"''''■' =^ ™°n'h, generally paid to them in Inlot /I ^'^ "^7 ""''^'''. '" ^ •='*«'r" '" '^"^'"g care of horses and miH wL^f 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 neiehborins 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- Tl'l f ™^''^<'d/ery little. Here it appeared, so far as I could judge in the distance, to descend but a few hundred feet below the summits. 1 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 lorward to an exploration of their snowy recesses with great pleasure. [ 174 ] 32 The piney region of the mountams to the south was enveloped in smoke, and I was informed had been on fire for, several months. Pike's peak is said to be visible from ttiis place, about one hundred miles to the south- ward ; but the smoky state of the atmosj>here prevented my seeing it. The weather continued overcast during my stay here, so that I failed in deiermining the latitude, but obtained good observations for time on the mornings of ihe 11th and 12ih. 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. — 'i he kindness of JVJr. St. Vrain had enabled me to obtain a couple of norses 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 Laraiiiie's fork, we resumed our journey at 10, on tlie morning of the 12th. We had been able to procure nothing at the post, m the way of provision. An expected supply from Taos had not yet arrived, and a lew pounds of coO'ee 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 ilie Platte, which resembled a garden \\\ the splendor of fields of varied flowers, which filled the air with fragrance. The only timber I noticed consisted of poplar, bird), Cottonwood, and willow. In something less than three mii^'^ -^ crossed Thompson's creek, one of the afih--- '^^ ^^^ j^^^ banirof the ^o!^!^- "^ "~^ finestre^- ^j^^^^^ sixty-five feet wide, and three feet deep. "„C"rrjeying 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 cotton woods, with which the stream is wooded scatteriogly. 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 difliculty 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 lliermoineter at 66°. Sky clear, except in the east, with a light wind from the north. J^w/y 13.— There being no wood here, wc used last night the bois de 33 L 1'''4 3 vache, which is very plentiful. At our camp this morning, the barometer was at 25.235 j 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 quantuies 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 ghttering 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 w^ith 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 besiias tienen rnucha hamhre^^ 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-^ I tireiy to the extreme dryness of the cHmate. Along our route, the country \ had seemed to increase constantly in elevation. According to the indica- l tion of the barometer, we were at our encampment 5,440 feet above the I sea. ! The evening was very clear, with a fresh breeze from the south, 50® j 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 [ 174 ] 34 July 14. — The wind continued fresh from the same quarter in the morn- ing ; the day being clear, 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 stream.s, 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 anything 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 broad, and about six inches deep, with a swift current of clear water, and tolerably cool. We had struck it too low down to find the cold water, which we should have enjoyed nearer to its sources. At 2, p. m., the barometer was at 25.050, the attached tliermometer 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 that 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 [ 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 parapeLs appear domes and slender minarets, forty or fifty feet high, giving U 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 \ 5,— At 6 this morning, the barometer was at 25.51 5, 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 no'rth, 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 dilficulty 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 3rards brought us in view of the post of the American Fur Company, calU 2 H *^'*v r^^flA 41 [ 174 ] the mountains. Mr. Boudeau infornied 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 next day ; but the influence of " the Broken Hand," as they called Mr. Fitzpatrick, (one of his hands having been shattered by the bursting of a gun,) at length prevailed, and obtained for them an unmolested passage ; but they sternly assured him that this path was no longer open, and that any party of whites which should hereafter be found upon it would meet with certain destruction. From all that I have been able to learn, I have no doubt that the emigrants owe their lives to Mr. Fitzpatrick. Thus it would appear that the country was swarming with scattered war parties ; and when I heard, during the day, the various contradictory and exaggerated rumors which were incessantly repeated to them, I was not surprised that so much alarm prevailed among my men, Carson, one of the best and most experienced mountaineers, fully supported the [ 174 ] 42 opinion given by Bridger of the dangerous state of the country, and openly expressed his conviction that we could not escape without some sharp encounters with the Indians. In addition to this, he made his will ; and among the circumstances which were constantly occurring to increase their alarm, this was the most unfortunate ; and I found that a number of my party had become so much intimidated, that they had requested to be discharged at this place. I dined to-day at Fort Platte, which has been mentioned as situated at the junction of Laramie river with the 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, fortu:;ately, I am not of delicate nerves, and continued quietly to empty my platter. The weather was cloudy at evening, with a moderate south wind, and the thermometer at 6 o'clock 85°. I was disappointed in my hope of ob- 43 I 174 3 taining an observation of an occultation, which took place about midnight. The moon brought with her heavy banks of clouds, through which she scarcely made her appearance during the night. The morning of the 18th was cloudy and calm, the thermometer at 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 [ 174 ] 44 great imprudence ; and therefore, though reluctantly, I determined to leave them. Randolph had been the life of the camp, and the ''petit gar^on''' 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 livesof 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 Ih, or 21", and from lunar distance 7A. 01' 29"; giving for the adopted longitude 104° 47' 43". Comparing the barometrical observations made during our stay here, with those of Dr. G. Eogelman 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, Juillet 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 retour. De plus, ils me disent qu'ils sont tre certains qu'ils feront feu a la premiere rencontre. lis doivent etre de retour dans sept a huit jours. Excusez si je vous fais cos observations, mais il me semble qu'il est mon devoir de vous avertir du danger. Meme de plus, les chefs sont les porteurs de ce billet, qui vous defendent de partir avant le retour des guerriers. " Je suis votre obeissant serviteur, "JOSEPH BISSONETTE, " Par L. B. CHARTRAIN. " Les noms de quelques chefs. — Le Chapeau de Loutre, le Casseur de Fleches, la Nuit Noir, la Queue de Boeuf." [Translation.] " Fort Platte, July 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 tfent 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, and that they were too old to travel so many days on horseback, and preferred now to smoke their pipes in the lodge, and let the warriors go on the war path. Besides, they had no power over the young men, and were afraid to 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 all the Indians, his children. Why [ 174 ] 46 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 strongs and you did not see the rifles which my young men carry in their hands. We are few, and you are many, and may kill us all ; but there will be much crying in your villages, for many of your young men will stay 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 liigher, 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 fort, we entered the sandy bed of a creek, a kind of defile, shaded by precipitous rocks, down which we wound our way for several hundred yards, to a place where, on the left bank, a very large spring gushes with considerable noise and force out of the limestone rock. It is called "the Warm Spring," and furnishes to the hitherto dry bed of the creek a considerable rivulet. On the opposite side, a little below the spring, is a lofty limestone escarpment, partially shaded by a grove of large trees, whose green foliage, in contrast with the whiteness of the rocky 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 th^ 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 prele (equisetum) for our animals. Our tents having been found too thin to protect ourselves and the instruments from the rains, which in this elevated country are attended with cold and unpleasant weather, I had procured from the Indians at Laramie a tolerably large lodge, about eigh- teen feet in diameter, and twenty feet in height. Such a lodge, when properly pitched, is, from its conical form, almost perfecily 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 interpreler, 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, where 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 vlrginianay) 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 siUceous 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 ot in any way interfere with the range of the buffalo, on which the i\ [ 174 ] 48 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 eff'ectually to prevent any such coaUtions 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 Plalte, and Bent's fort, on the Arkansas, a line of communication would be formed, by good wagon roads, with our southern mihtary posts, which would entirely command the mountain passes, hold some of the most troublesome tribes in check, and protect and facilitate our intercourse with the neighboring Spanish settlements. The valleys of the rivers on which they would be situated are fertile ; the country, which supports immense herds of buffalo, is admirably adapted to grazing ; and herds of cattle might be maintained by the posts, or obtained from the Spanish country, which already supplies a portion of their provisions to the trading posts mentioned above. Just as we were leaving the camp this morning, our Indian came up, and stated his intention of not proceeding any further until he had seen the horse which I intended to give him. I felt strongly tempted to drive him out of the camp ; but his presence appeared to give confidence to my men, and the interpreter thought it absolutely necessary. I was 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 io 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 Jimhre, so called from being timbered principally with the Hard anihre^ (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 omissiorj 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 of the grass is usurped by the artemisia and other odoriferous plants, to whose growth the sandy soil and dry air of this elevated region seem highly favorable. One of the prominent characteristics in the face of the country is the ex- traordinary abimdance of (he 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 trie odor of camphor and spirits of turpentine which belongs to this plant. This climate has been found very favorable to the restoration of health, particularlv 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 T5ome 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-tt-Cheval, or Horse-siioe creek. Here we found good grass, with a great quantity oi prele, which fnrni?hed good food for our tired animals. This creek is well timbered, principahy with Hard ainers, 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 np. 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 beeia mentioned, on both forks of the Platte they had entirely failed. The greater num.ber 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 scantv 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 tliousand feet above the sea, almost wholly unprotected by timber, should be attributed much ©f the sterile appearance ot the country, in the destruction of veg(?tation. and the numerous saline emoresrences which covered the ground. Such I afterward found to be the case. I was informed thac the roving villages of Indians and travellers had never met with difficulty in finding an abuiidance of grass for their horses ; and now it was after great search that we were oble'to find a soanty patcli of grass, sufficient to keep them from sinking ; and in the course of a dcry 4 ^ [ 174 ] 50 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 in 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 hobbled and picketed. The guns were discharged and reloaded, and men thrown forward, under cover of the bank, in the direction by which the Indians were expected. Our interpreter, who, with the Indian, had gone to meet them, came in, in about ten minutes, accompanied by two Sioux. They looked sulky, and we could obtain from them only some confused information. We learned that they belonged to the party which had been on the trail of the emigrants, whom they had overtaken at Rock 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 fall upon some small parties of Crow Indians. The remainder were returning down the Platte, in scattered parties often and twenty; and those whom we had I 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 did not look upon them very lovingly, and they glanced suspi- i ciously at our warlike preparations, and the little ring of rifles which sur- i rounded them. They were evidently in a bad humor, and shot one of their horses when they had left us a short distance. We continued our march, and, after a journey of about twenty-one miles, encamped on the Platte. During the day, I had occasionally remarked among the hills the psoralea esculenta, the bread root of the Indians, The Sioux use this root very extensively, and I have frequently met with it among them, cnt 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 ferrugmous 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 ^ave for the latitude of 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 ^vq 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. Ihis 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". Jw/y 26.— Early this morning we were again in motion. We had a stock of provisioiis for fifteen days carefully stored away in the carts, and this 1 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 ^ried Meat camp,) we crossed a handsome stream, called La Fourche Bois^e. h IS well timbered, and, among the flowers in bloom on its banks, 1 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 hippophude, the grains de boeuf of the country. 1 hey were of two kinds— one bearing a red berry, (the shepherdia argen- tia oi iNuttall ;) 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' OS'^ It was my daily practice to take observations of the sun's meridian altitude; ana why they are not given, will appear in the sequel. Eight miles further we reached the mouth of Deer creek, where we encamped. Here was an abundance of rich grass, and our animals were compensated for past priva- tions. Ihis 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» nTo«'o .^' J^^'^"'/^''^ ^^' ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^' ^he stream a longitude of 106° OS 24", and latitude 42° 52' 24". July 27.^Nothing worthy of mention occurred on this day j we trav- £ 174 ] ^ 52 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 bushes, two and three feet in height, where some scattered patches of short tough grass afforded a scanty supply. In crossing, we had occasion to observe that the river was frequently too deep to be forded, though we always succeeded in finding a place where the water did not enter the carts. The stream continued very clear, with two or three hundred feet breadth of water, and the sandy bed and banks were frequently covered with large round pebbles. We had 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 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. T!ie 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 dov.^n 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 inequaUties it now presents. From the mouth of the Kansas to the Green river valley, west of the 53 [ 174 3 Kocky 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, inclnding the Arapahoes, Cheyennes, and OglallahSj, 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 quejepourrais vous donner c^est de virei^ de suile.^^ " 'i'he 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 men, 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, vv^ith the frames, carried into some low places among the willows, and concealed in the dense foliage in such a manner that the g-litter 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, teji feet square, and six deep. In the mean time^j. I 174 ] 54 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 hear, 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". Juli/ 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 Platte so far as the mouth of the Sweet Water, in the expectation of finding better grass. To this I was further prompted by the nature of my instructions. To Mr. Carson was assigned the office of guide, as we had now reached a part of the country with which, or a great part of which, long residence had made him familiar. In a few miles we reached the Red Buttes, a famous 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 cdiinp, 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 UJ < o o z cc Q. o r 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 beeomes small trees six and eight feet in height, and sometimes eight inches in diameter. Two or three miles above this creek we made our encampment, having 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 the numerous strata increasing in size from the top to the bottom, where they are as large as a man's head. So far as I was able to determine, these strata 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 Rocky 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 sandsXone, 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- [ 174 ] 56 dicularly from the water. To that on the right bank, which is the lower,, 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 throngli 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 liavor 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. J3ut 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 stroiig 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 off 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 our way to the summit of the hills, of which the peaks are here eight hundred feet above the Platte, bare and rocky. A long and gradual slope led from these hills to the Sweet Water, which we reached in fifteen miles from Goat Island. I made an early encampment here, in order to give the hunters an opportunity to procure a supply from several bands of bufi'alo, which made their appearance in tiie 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 left 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 two and sometimes three feet high. Jlugust 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, and encamped one mile below Rock Independence. This is an isolated granite rock, about six hundred and filty yards long, and forty in height. Except in a depression of the summit, where a little soil supports a scanty growth 57 [ 174 ] of shrubs, with a solitary dwarf pine, it is entirely bare. Everywhere within six or eight feet of the ground, where the surface is sufficiently smooth, and in some places sixty or eighty feet above, the rock is inscribed with the names of 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 j 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- I tatlon. 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 ]ts southern boundary. The great evaporation on the sandy soil of this elevated plain, and the saline efflorescences which whiten the ground, and sliine like lakes reflecting the sun, make a soil wholly unfit for culti- .vation. Jiugust 3, — We were early on the road the next morning, travelling ialong 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 bufialo made their ap» [ 174 ] 53 pearance to-da}', 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 m 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. Jiugiist 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 over. 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 scrambledj 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 small salt lakes, where the water had evaporated, and left the bed covered with a shining incrustation of salt. The evening was very cold, a northwest wind driving a fine rain in our faces ; and at nightfall we descended to a little stream, on which we encamped, about two miles from the Sweet Water. Here had recently been a very large camp of 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. JIugiist 7. — We left our encampment with the rising sun. As we rose from the bed of the creek, the snowXme 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, while it rained in the plains. We crossed a ridge, and again struck the Sweet Water — here a beautiful, swift stream, with a more open valley, timbered with beech and cottonwood. It now began to lose itself in the many small forks which make its head ; and we continued up the main stream until near noon, when we left it a few miles, to make our noon halt on a small creek among the hills, from which the stream issues by a small opening. Within was a beautiful grassy spot, covered with an open grove of large beech trees, among which I found several plants that I had not previously seen. The afternoon was cloudy, with squalls of rain ; but the weather 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 [ 174 ] 60 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 tlie artemisia continues in full glory; but cadi have be- come rare, and mosses begin to dispute the hills with them. Tlie 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. About six miles from our encampment brought us to the summit. The ascent had been so gradual, that, witii all tiie 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 V\^ater and a full swift current, over a sandy bed. It v/as 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". %dugust 9. — We made our noon halt to-day on Big Sandy, another 61 -. ■ / [ 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 eightj^ 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 suificiently 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' 11", 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. Jlugiist 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. xA 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 nules. The sun has just shot above the wait, 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 seem^ed 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 upv/ards of a hundred i^et wide, timbered with groves or thickets of the low willow. We were nov/ 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 iti very broken ground, among long ridges covered v/ith 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 iiorses, we followed its banks to the southern exrremity. Here a view of the utmost magnificence and grandeur burst upon our eyes. With nothing between lis and their feet to lessen the efl'ect of the whole heiaht, a srand 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 dov/n. from. [ 174 ] 62 the main chain to the spot where we stood. Here, where the lake ghttered 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 Httle 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- cunmlation 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 as the sun, should stand upon the summits, and decide their disputes. 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° OS' 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 points. We had no other compass than the small ones used in sketching the country; but from an azimuth, in which one of them was used, the variation of the compass is 18° 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 the barometer was placed during the night, to be out of the way of any possible danger, and in the morning I commenced again. Among the powder horns in the camp, I found one which was very transparent, so that its contents could be almost as plainly seen as through glass. This I boiled and stretched on a piece of wood to the requisite diameter, and scraped it very thin, in order to increase to the utmost its transparency. I then secured it firmly in its place on the 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, which was well secured with strong thread and glue, and then the brass cover was screwed to its place. The instrument was left some time to dry ; and when I reversed it, a few hours after, I had the satisfaction to find it in perfect order ; its indications being about the same as on the other side of the lake before it had been broken. Our 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 w^e had not dried this with Indian skill, part of it was spoiled; and what remained of good, was as hard as wood, having much the taste and appearance of so many pieces of bark. Even of this, our stock was rapidly diminishing in a camp which was capable of consuming two buffaloes in every twenty-four hours. These animals had entirely disappeared; and it was not probable that we should fall in with them again until we returned to the Sweet Water. Our arrangements for the ascent were rapidly completed. We were in a hostile country, which rendered the greatest vigilance and 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 [ 1^4 ] 64 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 prairiUon on the inner side, bordered by the rocky ridge. In the upper end of this grove we cleared I circular space about forty feet in diameter, and, with the felled timber and interwoven branches, surrounded it with a breastwork five feet in height. A gap was left for a gate on the inner side, by which the animals were to be driven in and secured, while the men slept around the little work. It was half hidden by the foliage; and, garrisoned by twelve resolute men, would have set at defiance any band of savages which might chance to discover them in the interval of our absence. Fifteen of the best mules, with fourteen men, were selected for the mountain party. Our 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. Jiugust 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 coffeo 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 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 waiers, 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 aftorded a rough pathway for our mules, but generally we rode along the shelving side, occasionally scramblinj? 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 th,e h!]nter's praise, and which now made us feel as if we had all been drinking some exhilarating gas. The depths of this unex- ploied forest were a place to delight the heart of a botanist. There was a rich undergrowth of plants, and Jiumerous gay-colored flowers in bril- 65 [ 174 ] liatit bloom. We reached the outlet at length, where some freshly barked willows that lay in the water showed that beaver had been recently at work. There were some small brown squirrels jumping about in the pines, and a couple of large mallard ducks swimming about in the stream. The hills on this southern end were low, and the lake looked like a mimic sea, as the waves broke on the sandy beach in the force of a strong breeze. There was a pretty open spot, with fine grass for our mules; and we made our noon halt on the beach, under the shade of some large 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 Uttle inland; and, passing through groves of aspen, soon found ourselves again among the pines. Emerging from these, we struck the summit of the ridge above. the upper end of the lake. We had reached a very elevated point ; and in the valley below, and among the hills, were a number of lakes 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 Uie 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, 1 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 v^alk by a fine collection of plants, many of them in full bloom. Ascending a peak to find the place of our c^mp, 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, fomid 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 s^eSd 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 ms; the little hole through which we saw the stars overhead; the dark pines where we slept; and the rocks lit up with the glow of our fires, made a night picture of very wild beauty. ^vgust 13. — The morning was bright and pleasant, just cool enough. 5 [ 174 ] 66 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 beloWy 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 J of defiles, and before us rose the mountains as we have represented them in the annexed view. It is not by the splendor of far-off views, which have lent such a glory to the Alps, that these impress the mind ; but by a gigantic disorder of enormous masses, and a savage sublimity of naked rock, in wonderful contrast with innumerable green spots of a rich floral beauty, shut up in their stern recesses. Their wildness seems well suited to the character of the people who inhabit the country. I determined to leave our animals here, and make the rest of our way on foot. The peak appeared so near, that there was no doubt of our returning before night; and a few men were lef( in charge of the mules, with our pro- visions and blankets. We took with us nothing but our arms and instru- . inents, and, as the day had become warm, the greater part left our coats. '1 Having made an early dinner, we started a^ain. 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 ^e/owr^; 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, fu which there was a rocky isl^d, and from which we obtained the view given in the frontispiece. We^emained 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 diflicult 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 winds by the surrounding crags, and the 2 O < m O C 2 LP ^ ^ ?# ; V .' «, s ■Vv" 67 ^ [ 174 3 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 q^%q 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 f)roceed 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 liad 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 m length. On the northern side of the lake was a bank of ice, or rather of snow covered with a crust of ice. Carson had been our guide into the mountains, and, agreeably to his advice, we left this little valley, and took to tlie 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 fragn^nts of sharp rock, on which he landed ; and though he turned a couple ot 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 ov^r to Mr. Preuss, who was in a gap two or three hundred yards distant, desiring him to reach the pt-ak, if pos- sible, and take an observaiioD there. He found himself unable to proceed [ 174 ] 68 further in that direction, and took an observation, where the oarometer stood at 19.401 ; attached thermometer 50°, in the gap. Carson, who had gone over to him, succeeded in reachiiig 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. JItigust 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 oui 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 Ihey set outc With Mr. Preuss and myself remained Basil Lajeunesse, Clement Lambert, Janisse, and Uescoteaux. 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 maraudmg 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 spri/% 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 ia 69 [174 diameter, and apparently very deep. Th«se 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 himdred feet above the lakes, where there was a patch of good grass, and turned them loose to graze. During our rough ride to this place, they had exhibited a wonderful surefootedness. Parts of the defile were filled with angular, sharp fragments of rock, three or four and eight or ten feet cube; and among these they had worked their way, leaping from one narrow point to another, rarely making a false step, and giving us no occasion to dismount. Having divested ourselves of every unnecessary encumbrance, we commenced the ascent. This time, like experienced 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 belown 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 nevef 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 yas absolute, unbroken by any soimd, 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 {bromtis, the /nimble bee) came winging his liight from the eastern valley, and lit on the knee of one of the men. [ 174 ] 70 It was a strange place, the ic5j|||ock and the highest peak of the Rocky- mountains, for a lover of warm smshine 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 civiUzation. 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 18.293, 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 oflicer still farther to the north, and Colonfel 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 o{ 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 oiu' 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 afi'orded, 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 o m 2 H > r- O X > -I m Z o < m o c 2 C/1 n u '. 8 /^ /i*^ ■^ ."^^N.. <^H\h 71 [ 174 ] object to regain our party as soon as pos^le, 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 Soutli America, with their refreshing juices and soft fra- grant air ; but we found our Utile 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 flocks of the mountain goat looking down on us from the cliffs. At the crack of a rifle, they would bound off among the rocks, and in a few minutes make their appearance on some lofty peak, some hundred or a thousand feet above. It is needless to attempt any further description of the country ; the portion over which we 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 had occurred to interrupt the quiet since our departure, and the fine grass and good cool water had done much to re-establish our animals. All heard with great delight the order to turn our faces homeward; and 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 arternisias, 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 Sweet W'ater, halted to take a meridian observation of the sun. The latitude was 42'" 24' 32". In the course of the afternoon we saw buffalo again, and at our evening halt on the Sweet Water the roavSted ribs again made their appearance I' round 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 kirc* of tea from the roots of the wild cherry tree. August 23. — Yesterday evening we reached our encampment at Rock Lidependeuce, Vv'^er i I took some astronomical observations. Here, not [ 174 3 72 nnmindful of the custom of earl^ 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 cJilculated 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 tJie 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 miJe 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 our boat ready for navigation the next day. jitigust 24. — We started before sunrise, intendmg to breakfast at Goat island. I had directed the land party, in charge of Bernier, to proceed to this place, where they were to remain, should they find no note to apprize them of our having passed. In the event of receiving this information, they were to continue their route, passing by certain places which had been designated. Mr. Preuss accompanied me, and with us were five of my best men, viz: C. Lambert, Basil Lajeunesse, Honore Ayot, Benoist, and Descoteaux. Here appeared no scarcity of water, and we took on board, with various instruments and baggage, provisions for ten or twelve days. We paddled down the river rapidly, for our little craft was light as a duck on the water; and the sun had been some time risen, when we heard before us a hollow roar, vv^hich we supposed to be that of a fall, of v^^hich we had heard a vague rumor, i ut whose exact locality no one had been able to de- scribe tc us. We were approaching a ridge, througli which the river passes 73 [ 174 3 by a place called " canon,'^ (pYonoimced*kafit/on,) 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 hadj 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 questiort, 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 he was wrecked, with the total loss of his furs. ^It would have been a work of great time and labor to pack our baggage across the ridge, and I determined to run the canon. We all again embarked, and at first attempted to check the way of the boat ; but the water swept through with so much violence that we narrowly escaped being swamped, and were obliged to let her go in the full force of the current, and trust to the skill of the boatmen. The dangerous places in this canon were where huge rocks had fallen from above, and hemmed in the already narrow pass of the river to an open space of three or four and five feet. These obstructions raised the water considerably above, which was sometimes precipitated over in a fall ; and at other places, where this dam was too high, rushed through the contracted openmg 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 [ 174 ] 74 ^ powers, that we would not have h^itated to leap a fall of ten feet with her. We put to shore for breakfast at some willows on the right bank, immedi-^i ately below the mouth of the canon ; for it was now 8 o^clock, and we had been working since daylight, and were all wet, fatigued, and hungry. While the men were preparing breakfast, I went out to reconnoitre. The view was very limited. The course of the river was smooth, so far as I could see ; on both sides were broken hills ; and but a mile or two below was another high ridge. The rock at the mouth of the canon was still the decomposing granite, with great quantities of mica, which made a very glittering sand. We re-embarked at 9 o'clock, and in about twenty minutes reached the next caiion. 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, tiie jagged rocks pointed out the course of the*Canon, on a wind- ing line of sevep or eight miles. It was simply a narrow, dark chasm in the rock ; and here the perpendicular faces were much higher than in the previous pass, being at this end two to three hundred, and further down, as we afterwards ascertained, five hundred feet in vertical height. Our 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 S3Lve 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 Uke an arrow, Basil following us in the rapid current, and exerting all his strength to keep in mid chatmel — his head only seen occasionally like a black spot in the white foam. How far we went, I do not exactly know ; but wesuroopded in turn- ing the boat into an eddy below *' 'Cre Dieu/^ said Basi Lajeunesse, as he arrived immediately after us, "Je crois biea qiiej\d naii;e an demi niile.^'^ He had owed his life to his skill as a swimmer ; an J 1 determined t' lake 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 paddles in our hands, the most skilful boatman being at the bow ; and again we commenced our rapid descent. We cleared rock after rock, and shot past fall after fall, our little boat seeming to play with the cntaract. We became flushed witii 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 hnmediately at the foot of a fall, which whirled her over in an instant. Three of my men could not swim, and my first feeling was to assist them, and save some of our 'Effects ; but a sharp concussion or two convinced me that I had not yet saved myself A few strokes brought me into an eddy, and I landed on a pile of rocks on the left side. Looking around, I saw that Mr. Preuss had gained the shore on the same side, about twenty yards below ; and a little climbing and swimming soon brought him to ray side. On the opposite side, against the wall, lay the boat bottom up ; and Lambert was in the act of saving Descoteaux, whom he had grasped by the hair, and who could not swim ; '' Lache pas,^^ said he, as I afterward learned, ^Hache pas, cher frhre.P ^' Crains pas/^ was the reply, '^ e/e m'e?2 vais mourir avant que de te lacher.^^ Such was the reply of courage and generosity in this danger. For a hundred yards below, the current was 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 astronomical 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 with drowning tenacity. The men continued down the river on the left bank. Mr. Preuss and myself descended on the side we were on; and Lajeunesse, with a paddle in his hand, jumped on the boat alone, and continued down the canon. She was now light, and cleared every bad place with much less difficulty. In a short time, he was joined by Lambert ; and the search was continued for about a mile and a half, which was as far as the boat could proceed in the pass. Here the walls were about five hundred feet high, and the fragments of rocks from, above had choked the 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 been taken in the monntains. These, with a few scattered notes, were all tljat had been preserved of our meteorological observaiious,. [ 174 ] 76 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 ruiming rapidly away, and it was necessary to reach Goat island, whither the party had preceded ns, before night. In this uncertain country, the traveller is so much in the power of chance, that we became somewhat uneasy in regard to them. Should any thing have occurred, in the brief interval of our separation, to prevent our rejoining them, our 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 mercy of any straggling party of savages, and not a little in danger of starvation. We therefore set out at once in two parties. Mr. Preuss and myself on the left, and the men on the opposite side of the river. Climbing out of the caiion, we found ourselves in a very broken country, where we were not yet able to recognise any locality. In the course of our descent through the canon, the 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 fatigumg. At one point of the canon the red argillaceous sandstone rose in a wall of five hundred feet, surmounted by a stratum of white sandstone ; and in an opposite ravine a column of red sandstone rose, in form like a steeple, about one hundred and fifty feet high. The scenery was extremely picturesque, and, notwithstand- ing our forlorn condition, we were frequently obliged to stop and admire it. Our progress was not very rapid. . We had emerged from the water half naked, and, on arriving at the top of the precipice, I found myself with only one moccasin. The fragments of rock made walking painful, and I v/as fre- quently obliged to stop and pull out the thorns of the cactus, here the pre- vailing plant, and with which a few minutes' walk covered the bottom of my feet. From this ridge the river emerged into a smiling prairie, and, de- scending to the bank for water, we were joined by Benoist. The rest of the party were out of sight, having taken a more inland route. We crossed the river repeatedly — sometimes able to ford it, and sometimes swimming — climbed over the ridges of two more canons, and towards evening reached the cut, which we here named the Hot Spring gate. On our previous visit in July, we had not entered this pass, reserving it for our descent in the boat ; and when we entered it this evening, Mr. Preuss was a few hundred feet in advance. Heated with the long march, he came suddenly upon a fine bold spring gushing from the rock, about ten feet above the river. Eager to enjoy the crystal water, he threw himself down for a hasty draught, . and took a mouthful of water almost boiling hot. He said nothing to Be- noist, 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 just long enough to count two seconds. There are eight or ten of these springs, dis- charging themselves by streams large enough to be called runs. A loud hol- low noise was heard from the rock, which I supposed to be produced by the fall of the water. The strata immediately where thejHssue is a fine white and calcareous sandstone, covered with an incrustation of common salt. Leav- ing this Thermopylae of the west, in a short walk we reached the red ridge which has been described as lying just above Goat Island. Ascending this, we found some fresh tracks and a button, which showed that the other men 77 [ 174 ] had already arriired. 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 be^ shelter we could find, where we slept soundly, after one of the most fatiguing days I have ever experienced. August 25, — Early this mornitig 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 2Gih 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 halted at the place where we had taken din- ner on the 27Jh 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 fij^ed 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 w^ith scattered volleys of oup sifuall 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 fche 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 cf 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 direclty into it, and made our way along the sandy bed, with no other inconvenience thap 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 iriver, 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-* I 174 ] 78 sonable addition to our stock of provisions. At this place I had determined to make another attempt to descend the Platte by water, and accordin&lv spent two days m the construction of a bull boat. Men were sent out on the evenmg of our arrival, the necessary number of bulls killed, and their skms 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 he seams were then covered with ashes and tallow, and the boat left exl 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 strons It had a rounded bow, was eight feet long and five broad, and drew with tour 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 ot the day, a httle before dark we overtook our people at their even- mg 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 ISth we reached Grand island, which is fiftv-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 tlie annual floods of the river. As has been already remarked, it is well timbered, with ant excellent soil, and recommends itself to notice as the best point for a mili- tary position on the Lower PJatte. • On the 22d we arrived at the village of the Grand Pawnees, on the right bank ot the river, about thirty miles above the mouth of the Loup fork. 1 hey were gathering in their corn, and we obtained from them a v^rv 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 iour 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 ihe 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 I ivV^^^o"^^" ^^ ^^® 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 in an almost impene-> 79 [ 174 J 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 occupiecPWith nu- merous islands, naany 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 portion 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 1. — 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- po.^ite 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 eujbarked on the Missouri. All our equipage — horses, carts, and the maieriel 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, imbodied 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 made; and, leaving that city by steamboat on tlie 18th, I had the honor to report to you at the city of Washinston on the 29lh of October. Very respectfully, sir, your obedient servant, J. C. FREMONT, 2d Lieut. Corps of Topographical Engineers^ i CATALOGUE OF PLANTS COLLECTED BY LIEUTENANT FRI^MONT, IW HTS EXPEDIIIOX TO THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, BY JOHN TORREY. i1 PREFACE ii • 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 the expedition,) that but little opportunity was afforded for collecting and drying botanical speci- mens. Besides, the party was in a savage and inhdspitable 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 Fremont, I recapitulate, from his repoit, a brief sketch of liis 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 pasang over the upper prairies. The soil of the river bottoms is always rich, and generally well timbered 5 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 amorpha canescens was the characteristic plant ; it being in many places as abundant as the grass. Crossing over from 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 llatris scariosa, and several asters, were here conspicuous features of the vegetation. I was pleased to recognise, among the specimens collected near the forks, the fine iargvi-fiowered 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. Geyer also found in Nicollet's expedition. It seems to be the plant subsequently described and figured by Sir W. Hooker, under the name of A. Douglasii. On the Lower Platte, and all the way to the Sweet Water, the showy ckome integrifoUa 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 5 but the grasses are fine, and the herbaceous plants abundant. On the return of the expedition in September, Lieutenant Fremont says the whole country resembled a vast garden ; but the prevailing plants were two or three species of htlianihus, (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 hentrophyta montana 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 Umestone, with a variety of s^idstones, (yellow, gray, and red argillaceous, ) with compact gypsum or alabas- ler, and fine conglomerates. [ 174 ] 84 The route along the North fork of the Platte afforded some of the best plants in the collection. The senecio i'ttpifoiia^ Nutt., occurred in many places, quite to the Sweet Water ; Uppia {zapanid) cuneifolia (Torr. in James's plants, only known before from Dr. James's collection :) cercocarpus par- vifolius, Nutt. ; eriogotium parvifolium, and coespitosum, Nutt.; shepherdia argenteUy 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 Cuenofodiace^, 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 thf expedition, as a well-merited compliment for the services he has rendered North American botany. The Sweet Water valley is a sandy plain, alx)ut one hundred and twenty miles long, and gen- erally about five miles broad ; bounded b}^ ranges of granitic mountains, between which the valley formation consists, near the Devil's gate, of a grayish micaceous sandstone, with marl and white clay. At the encampme«nt of August 5th-6th, there occurred a 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 Oenothera Nuttalln, Torr. and Gr. ; eurotia lanatay Mocq. ; (Diotis lanata, Pursh-^) which seems to he distinct from E . ceratotdes ; thermopsis montana, Nutt. ; gilia pukhella, Dougl. ^ senecio spartioidesy Torr. and Gr. ; a new species, and four or five species of wild currants, (ribes irriguum^ Doug!., &c.) Near the mouth of the Sweet Water was found the 2^lO'ntogo 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 casiillcja ,• penlstemon mlcraniha^ Nutt. ; several gentians ,• the pretty little androsace occidentalism Nutt. ; solidago incana, Torr. and Gr. ; and two species of eriogonumy one of wliich 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 w-estern side, to be sandy. From Laramie's fork to this point, different species of artemisia were the prevailing and characteristic plants ; occupying ihe 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 of pha^a {P. digi- tal a,) and parnassiu Jimbriata. 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. occidentalis. Hook. ^ eleagnti^ 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 coWecied pleum alpinum ; vxyria reniformis; Veronica alpina ; several species of sa/ea:/ carex atrafa ,- Cpaniceag and, immediately below the line of perpetual congelation, silene acaulis, and polemonium cceruleum^ 0 Hook. Among the alpine plants peculiar to the western hemisphere, there were found oreophila myrfifoliay Nutt. ; aqw'lrgia cceruleaf Torr. 5 pedlcularis surrecta, Benth. ; pulmonaria ciliaia, James j silene Drumfiiondiif Hook, j menziesia ernpetriformis, potentilla gracillSf Dougl. , set* 85 [ 174 ] cral species ofpinus,- frasera spechsa, Hook. ; dodecatheon dentafum, Hook. ; phlox muscoides, Nutt. ; senecio Fremontii, n. sp., Torr. and Gr. ; four or five asters, and vaccinium myrtilloides, Mx. ; the last seven or eiglit very near the snow line. Lower down the mountain were found arnica angustifulia, Vahl. 5 senecio triangularis^ Hook. ; S. subnudus, DC. ; macrorhynchus iroximoides, Torr. and Gr, ; helianthella unifiora.^ Torr. and Gr. ; and linosyris viscidiJlorOf 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 Fr6mont were under examination while the last part of the Flora of North America was in the press, nearly all the new matter relating to the Compositse 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 end comparisons. These, however, will be inserted in the successive numbers of the work ta which I have just alluded. JOHN TORREY. New Yohk, March, 1843. o CATALOGUE OF PLANTS. Class L—EXOGENOUS PLANTS. RANUNCULACE^. Clematis Virginiana, (Linn. ) Valley of the Platte. June, July. Ranunculus scekmtus, (Linn.) Valley of the Sweet Water river. August 18-20, R. cymhalaria, (Pursh.) Upper Platte. July 31, August. Aquilegla ccerulea^ {Ton.) Wind river mountains. August 13-16. Actcea rubra, (Bigel) Upper Platte. August 26-31. Thalidrum Cornuti, (Linn.) Platte. r. megacarpum, n. sp. Upper Platte. August 26-31. MENISPERMACE^. . Menispermum CanadensCy (Linn. ) Leaves only. On the Platte. BERBERIDACEiE. Berberis aquifolium, (Torr. and Gr.) Wind river mountains. August 13-16. , PAPAVERACE^. Argemone Mexlcana /? albijhra, (DC.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. CRUCIFER^. Nasturtium palustre, (DC.) Black hills of the Platte. July 26, August. Erysimum cheiranthaides, {Linn. ) Black hills. July 23. E. asperum, (Nutt.) South fork of the Platte. July 4. Pachypodium, {Thelypodium, Endl. Gen. p. 876,) integrlfoUum, (Nutt.) North fork of th© 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. Brayay n. sp. Wind river mountains, near the limits of perpetual snow. August 1 5. Lepidlum ruderale, (Linn.) On the Platte. June 29. CAPPARIDACE^. Cleome integrifoUa, (Torr. and Gr.) From the Lower Platte nearly to the mountains. Juno 29^ July 2, August 21. Polanisia irachysperma, /? (Torr. and Gr.) Black hills of the Platte. July 23. POLYGALACE^. Poly gala alba, (Nutt.) P. Beyrichii, (Torr. and Gr.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. DROSERACE^. Parnassia fimbriata, (Banks. ) Little Sandy creek, defiles of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 8„ CARYOPHYLLACE^. Arenavia congesta, {^wii.) Highest parts of the Wind river mountains. August 13-16. » Sllene Drummondli, (Hook.) With the preceding. S. acaulis, (Linn.) Wind river mountains, at the limits of perpetual snow,. [ 174 ] 88 PORTULACACEjE. 7aKnum parvijionifn, (Nult.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 26 LINACE^E. Jjinum r{gidu?n, (Parsh.) North fork of the Platte. July 8. i. perenne, (Linn.) Black hills to the Sweet Water of the Platte. August 2-31 e GERANIACEiE. Oeranium Fremoniiiy n. Bp. Black hills. August 26-31. OXALIDACE^. Oxalis strida, (Linn.) On the Kansas. June. ANACARDL^CE^. Mhus trilobata^ {^Mit.) Red Buttes. July 29. MALVACE^. Malva pedaia, {Toxx. dXiAGi.) ^ig Blue river of the Kansas. June 21. M. involucraia, (Terr, and Gr. ) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 23. Sida coccinea, (DC.) Little Blue river to tlie south fork of the Platte. June 22, July 4« VITACE.^. Vitis riparia, (Michx.) Grand island of the Platte. September 19. ACERACE^. Negundo aceroides, (Mcench.) On the lower part of the Platte. CELASTRACE^. Oreophila myrtifolia, (Nutt.) Summit of the Wind river mountains. August 13-14. RHAMNACE^. Ceanothus velutinus^ (Dougl.) With the preceding. C Americanus, var. sanguineus. C. sanguineus, (Pursh.) On the Platte. C mollissimusy n. sp. Near the Kansas river. June 19. LEGUMINOS.E. laathyrus linearis^ (Nutt. ) On the Platte, from its confluence with the Missouri to Fort Laiaioie. September 2-30. Amphicarpoea monoica, (Torr. and Gr.) North fork of the Platte. September 4. Apios tuberosa, {Mcexich.) Forks of the Platte. September 13. Glycyrhiza kpidota, (Pursh. ) From near the Kansas river to the Black hills of the Platte. Jun& 21, July 25. Tsoraleajhribunday (Nutt.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. P. campestrisy (Nutt. ?) and a more glabrous variety. With the preceding. July 2. P. lanceolatay (Pursh.) Black hills of the Platte. July 24. P. argophylla, (Pursh.) Little Blue river. June 23. p. tenuijlora, (Pursh.) (no flowers.) Forks of the Platte. September 12. J*etahstemon violaceum, (Michx.) Big Blue river of the Kansas, &c. June 21. P. candidurriy (Michx.) Red Buttes. July 29. Amorphafruticosa, (Linn.) From the Lower Platte to the mountains. August 8, September 19o A. carUscenSy (Nutt.) Kansas and Lower Platte rivers. June 19, September 20. Ziespeaeza capitata, (Michx. ) Mouth of the Platte. September 30. Desmodium acuminatum, (DC.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22. 89 [ 174 3 Astragalus gracilis, (Nutt.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. A. mollissimus, (Torr.) Valley of the Platte. June 29. A. hypoglotlis, (Linn.) Sweet Water of the Platte. August 5. Oxytropis Lambertii, (Pmsh.) Big Blue river of the Kansas to the forks of the Platte. June 20, July 2. O. Plattetisis, (Nutt. ?) (no flowers.) Goat island of the Upper Platte. July 31. Phaca astragaUna, (DC.) ■ Highest suihmits of the Wind river mountain. August 15. J*, elegans, (Hook.) var. ? Goat island of the Upper Platte. July 31. P. (Orophaca) digitata, n. sp. Little Sandy river. August 8. P. Umgi folia, (Nutt.) (leaves only.) Wind river mountains. Augvist 12-17. Kentrophyta montana, (Nutt.) Laramie river to the Sweet Water. July 14, August 5. Lupinus kucophyllusy (Lindl.) Wind river mountains, and Sweet Water of the Platte. August 4-21. L. omatus, (Dougl.) L. leucopsis, (Agardh.) With the preceding. Bapiisia leucantha, (Torr. and Gr.) Kansas river. Thermopsis montana, (Nutt.) Sweet Water river. Augusts. Ciissiachamcecrista, (Linn.) Mouth of the Platte. September 30. Schrankia uncinaia, (Willd.) Kansas and Platte rivers. June 19, September. Darlingtonia brachypoda, {DC.) On the Platte. September 17. ROSACEiE. Cerasus Virgimana, (Torr. and Gr.) Upper north fork of the Platte. July 30. Cercocarpus parvifolius, (Nutt.) Bitter creek, north fork of the Platte. July 22. Purshiatridentata, (DC.) Sweet Water river, &c. August 12, September. Geum Virginianum, (Linn.) Kansas river. June 20. Sibbaldia procumbens, (Linn.) Wind river mountains, near perpetual snow. August 13-14> Putentilla gracilis, (Dougl.) With the preceding. P. diversi folia, (Lehm.) Sweet Water of the Platte to the mountains. August 4-15. P. sericea, 0 glabrata, (Lehm.) With the preceding. P.fruticosa, (hinn.) With the preceding. P. ansmna, (Linn.) Black hills of the Platte. July 26-31. P. arguta, (Pursh.) Little Blue river of the Kansas, and Black hills of the Platte. June 23, August 28. Mubus strigosus, (Michx.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains. August 1J2-17., Amelanchier diversifolia, var. alnifolia, (Torr. and Gr») Sweet Water of the Platte. August 5. Hosablanda, (Ait) Lower Platte. R. foliolosa, (Nutt.) var. kiocarpa. With the preceding. \ ONAGRACE.E. Epilobium cohraturn, (Muhl.) Black hills of the Platte to the Sweet Water river. Aug. 4-31. E. spicatum, (Lam.) From the Red Buttes to the Wind river mountains. August 13-31. Oenothera albicaulis, (Nutt.) North fork of the Platte. July 14, ffi. Missouriensis, (Sims.) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 19-20. (H. trichocalyx, (Nnti.) North fork of the Platte. July 30. (E. serrulata, (Nutt.) On the Kansas and Platte. June, July 14. (E.rhombibetala, (Nutt) On the Platte. September 18-20. (E. biennis, (Linn.) Black hills to the Sweet Water river. July 23, August 4. (E. {Taraxia) Nuttallii, (Torr. and Gr.) Upper part of the Sweet Water. (E, spcciosa, (Nutt ) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 19-20. (E. Drummondii, (Hook. 1) Black hills. July 26. Gaura cocclnea, (Nutt.) Var. ? Little Blue river of the Kansas, and south fork of the Platte. June 26, July 4. [ 174 ] 90 LOASACE^. Mtntzelia nuda, (Torr. and Gr.) North fork of the Platte. July 14. GROSSULACEJG. Eibes cereum, (Lindl.) Sweet Water of the Platte. August 2-4. R. latmtre, (Poir.) With the preceding. /? leaves deeply lobed. R. echinatum, (Dougl.) Per- haps a distinct species. R. irriguunit (Dougl.) With the preceding. CACTACEiE. Opuntia Missourienm, (BC.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. CRASSULACEiE. Sedum rhodiola, (DC.) On a lake in Wind river mountains. August 12-17. UMBELLIFER^. Heracleum lanatum, (Michx. ?) Leaves only. The leaves are more glabrous than in the ordinary form of the plant. Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. rolyiosnia NuUallu't (BC.) On the Kansas. June 20. Slum? ineisum, n. sp. Stem sulcate^ segments of the leaves distant, deeply incised or pinnatified; the lower teeth or divisions often elongated and linear. North fork of the Platte. July 12. EdosmiaGardineri, (Ton. andGr.) Without fruit. Cicuta maculata, (Linn.) Lower Platte. Musenium tenuifolium, (Nutt.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. CORN ACE J3. . siphiliticaf (L'mn.) North fork of the Platte. Sept. 4. CAMPANULACEiE. Campanula rotu7idi folia y (Linn.) Lower Platte. Specularia amplexicauluSy (DC.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. ERICACEAE. Fki/Uodoce empitrifnrmis, (D. Don.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-16. Vaccinium myrtilloideSy (Hook.) Wind river mountains, in the vicinity of perpetual snoWi.| Aug. 15. V. uliginosum, (Linn. ) With the preceding. Ariosiaphylos uva-ursi, (Spreng.) On a lake in the mountains. Aug. 12-17. ^ PRIMULACE^. Dodeaitheon dentatum, (Hook.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-16. Androsace occidental! s, (^uit.) Sweet Water river. Aug. 5. Lysimachia ciliaUiy (hinn.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. Glaux maritima, (Linn.) Upper Noith fork of the Platte. July 31. SCROPHULARIACE^. Orthocarpus luteus, (Nutt. ) Sweet Water river, Aug. 6. Mimulus alsinoides, {Benth.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-16. M. Lewisiiy (Pursh. ) With the preceding. Casiilleja pallida, (Kunlh) Sweet Water river. Aug. 8. I 93 I Hi 2 €.miniata, (Benth.) Wind river mountains. August 13-1 6» fhere are two «ir Aree &«3>«r species of this genus in the collection, which I have not been able to deferMme. Veronica alpina /?, (Hook.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. Pentstemon albidum, (Nutt.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. P. coeruleum, (Nutt.) South fork of the Platte. July 4. • P. micranthum^ (Nutt) Sources of the Sweet Water, near the moumtaimSo Augttst ?<. Fediculaiissurreda, (Benth.) Defiles of th§ Wind river rnountainiSc Awg^iiSt 13-ISo Gerardia longifolia, (Nutt) Lower Platte. July 23. OROBANCHAGE^. Orohanche fasciculata, (Nutt. ) South fork of the Platte, July 4. LABIATiE. Monai'da Jistulosa, (Linn.) On the Platte. Teucrium Canadense^ (Linn.) With the preceding. Lycopus sinuatus, (Ell.) With the preceding, Stachys aspera, (Michx.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. Scutellaria galericulafa, {hinn.) North of the Platte. July lO. Mentha C/madensis, (Linn.) With the preceding. Salvia azurea, (Lam.) Kansas river and forks of the Platte. June 19-29^ JwJy Sk^ VERBENACE^. Lrppia cuneifolia, Zapania cuneifolia, (Torr., in Ann. Lye. Nato Hkt. No York, li, page 234„) North fork of the Platte. July 12. 'Verbena siricta, (Vent) With the preceding. V. hastata, (Linn.) With the preceding. V.bracteata, (Michx.) With the preceding. BORAGINACEiE, Pulmonaria ciliata^ (James; Torr. in Ann. Lye N. Yorkj ii, page 224.) Defiles in tke Wind river mountains. August 13-1.5. Onosmodium molley (Michx.) On the Platte. June 29. Batschia Grnelini, (Michx.) Little Blue river of tlie Kansas. June 2^ . Myosotis glomerata, (Nutt.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. HYDROPHYLLACE.E, Eiiioca sericea, (Lehm.) Wind river mountains. • Phacelia hucophyllii, n« sp- Whole plant strigosely can escent; leaves elliptical, petiolate entire; racemes nmnerous, 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 R 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. Stamsns much exserted; filaments glabrous. Style 2 parted to the mi mond's Texan Collection, III, No. 266. SALICIACE.^. Salix longifolia, (Willd.) On the Platte. -S. 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. angicstifolia, (Torr. in Ann. Lye. N. Hist, of New York, ii, p. 249.) Sweet Water river* Aug. 21. p. monili'fera, (Ait.) Lower Platte. ULMACE.^. Ulmus fulva, (Michx.) Lower Platte. Seltis trassifoUa, (Nutt.) With the preceding, J3ETULACE.E. Betula glandulosa, (Michx.) On a lake in the Wind river mountains. Aug. 12-17. B. occidentalis, (Hook.) With the preceding. CONIFER.^. 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. strobu3an(£ 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 pi-eceding. Leaves only. Juniperus Virginiana, (Linn.) Lower Platte. ENDOGENOUS PLANTS. ALISMACE^. Sagittaria sagHtifolia, (Linn. ) On the Kansas. ORCHIDACE^. Platanthera leucophoea, (L'mdl.) Black hills. July 27, P. hyperboreoy (R. Br.) Laramie river to the Red Buttes. Aug. 26-31. Spiranthes cernuay (Rich.) Sweet Water river. Aug. 6. Aplectrum hytmaUy (Nutt.) On the Platte. June 29. IRIDACE^. Sisyrinchium anceps, (Linn.) North fork of the Platte. July 12, Iris Missouriensis, (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. 7 ■,.■,,. , ' S R;^>>, [ 174 ] 98 LILIACE.^. Yucca angustifolia, (S'lras.) Laramie rivei. July 14. Allium reticulatum, (Fras.) Defiles in the Wind river mountains. Aug. 12-17. Smilacina siellata, (Desf.) From the Laramie river to the Red Buttes. Aug. 26-81 MELANTHACE.EJ Zigadenus glaucus, (Nutt. ) Sweet Water river. Aug. JUNCACE.^. Juncus echinatus, (Mnhh) North fork of the Platte. Sept. 4. COMMELYNACEJE. Tradescantia Virginicay (Linn.,) and a narrow-leaved variety. Kansas and Platte. CYPERACEJ3. Carexfesfucacea,(Schk.) On the Kansas. June. -C. fflMrea, (Nutt.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22. C. panicea, (Linn.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains, near perpetual snow. Augi 15. ty, cUrata, (Linn.) With the preceding. GRAMINEiE. Spartina cynosuroides, (Willd.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22. Aristida p aliens y (Pursh.) On the Platte. June 29. Agrostis Michauxiana, (Trin.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 23. Phleum alpinuniy (Linn.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-14. Bromus ciliaiusy (Linn.) On the Platte. June-Aug. Pestuca ovinoy (Linn.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-14. Festuca nutans, (Willd.) On the Kansas. Poa laxa, (Hdenke.) With the preceding. P. crocatay (Michx.) With the preceding. Spikelets 2-flowered. P. nervatOy (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. Deschampsia coespitosa, (Beauv.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-14. Andropogcm scopariuSy (Michx.) Lower Platte. A. nutanSy (Linn. ) Laramie river. North fork of the Platte. Sept, 3-4. Hordeum juhaturuy (Ait) Forks of the Platte. July 2. Elymus VirginicuSy (Linn.) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 20. JB. Canadensisy (Linn.) Little Blue river of the Ka'nsas. June 22. Beckmannia cruciformiSy ( Jacq. ) North fork of the Platte. July 22. EQUISETACE^. Equisetum arvensCy (Linn.) On a lake in the Wind river mountains. Aug. 12-17. FILICES. Hypopeltis ohtusay (Torr. Compend. Bot. N. States, p. 380, 1826.) Aspidium obtusum, (Willd.) Woodsia Perriniana, (Hook, and Grev. Icon. Fil. L t. 68.) Physematiuni (Kaulf.) obtusumj (Hook. Fl. Bor. Am. ii, p. 259.) On the Platte. 99 [ 174 J 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 wiih 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, bv Arnold & Dent. ^ ^ J 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— *' /y/ot^; of Greenwich mean time - -. 11' 4" " Fufit of New York mean time - - 4/^. 45' 1" "^^ Loses per day - - . _ 2"J- '' 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 reu^ 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 Sr. 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".7a) 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 o| judging, they appear tolerably correct. '■'I 1T4 ] Table of latitudes and longitudes^ deduced from observations made during the journey. Date. 1842. May 27 June 8 16 18 19 20 25 26 27 28 30 2 July 4 6 7 11 12 13 14 16 23 24 25 26 26 28 29 30 Aug. 1 4 7 8 9 10 15 19 19 20 22 22 23 30 Sept. 3 4 5 8 9 10 16 \% 17 St. Louis, residence of Colonel Brant Chouteau's lower trading post, Kansas river Left bank of the Kansas river, seven miles above the ford - - - - - - Vermillion creek - - - - _ Cold Springs, near the road to Laramie Big Blue river - > - _ - Little Blue river - . - - - Right bank of Platte river - - - - Right bank of Platte river - - - - Right bank of Platte river - - - - Right bank of Platte river - - - - Junction of North and South forks of the Nebraska or Platte river - - - - _ South fork of Platte river, left bank. South fork of Platte river, island - - - South fork of Platte river, left bank - - ^ South fork of Platte river, St. Vrain's fort - Crow creek - - - - _ On a stream, name unknown - _ _ Horse creek, Goshen's hole ■ Fort Lavamie, near the mouth of Laramie's forlv North fork of Platte river - - - _ North fork of Platte river - - - - North fork of Platte river. Dried Meat camp North fork of Platte river, noon halt North fork of Platte river, mouth of Deer creek North fork of Platte river, Caxihe camp North fork of Platte river, left bank North fork of Platte river, Cioat island Sweet Water river, one mile below Rock Independ- ence ------ Sweet Water river ---.... Sweet Water river- . . _ _ Little Sandy creek, tributary to the Colorado of the West ------ New fork, tributary to the Colorado Mountain lake ----- Highest peak of the Wind river mountains. Sweet Water, noon halt - - . . Sweet Water river - - - - - Sweet Water river - - - - - Sweet Water river, noon halt - - _ Sweet Water river, at Rock Independence - North fork of Platte river, mouth of Sweet Water - Horse-shoe creek, noon halt _ - . North fork of Platte river, right bank North fork of Platte river, near Scott's bluffs North fork of Platte river, right bank, six miles above Chimney rock - - - - . North fork of Platte river, mouth of Ash creek North fork of Platte river, right bank North fork of Platte river, Cedar bluffs Platte river, noon halt - - , . Platte river, left bank - - - Platte river, left bank - - .. - Latitude. Longitude. Deg. min. sec Deg^ min. sec. 38 37 34 39 05 57 94 25 46 39 06 40 95 38 05 39 15 19 96 04 07 39 30 40 96 14 49 39 45 08 96 32 35 40 26 50 98 22 12 40 41 06 98 45 49 40 39 32 99 05 24 40 39 51 40 39 55 100 05 47 41 05 05 100 49 43 40 51 17 103 07 40 53 26 103 30 37 40 22 35 105 12 12 40 41 59 104 57 49 41 08 30 104 39 37 41 40 13 104 24 36 42 12 10 104 47 43 43 39 25 104 59 59 42 47 40 42 51 35 105 50 45 42 50 08 42 52 24 106 08 24 42 50 53 106 38 26 42 38 01 106 54 32. 42 33 27 107 13 29 42 29 56 107 25 23 42 32 31 108 30 13 42 27 15 109 21 32 42 27 34 109 37 59 42 42 46 109 58 11 42 49 49 110 08 03 42 24 32 42 22 22 42 31 46 42 26 10 42 29 36 42 27 18 42 24 24 42 01 40 41 54 38 41 43 36 41 17 19 41 14 30 41 10 16 40 54 31 40 52 34 40 42 38 101 Table of latitudes and longitudes — Continued. [ 174 3 Date. Station. Latitude. Longitude. 1842. Beg. min . sec. 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 95 20 4 Left bank of the Missouri, opposite to the right bank of the mouth of the Platte _ _ - 41 02 11 5 Missouri river - - - _ . 40 34 08 6 Bertholet's island, noon halt - - - 40 27 08 6 Missouri river, mouth of Nishnabatona river 40 16 40 8 Missouri river, left bank - - - - 39 36 02 10 Missouri river, mouth of the Kansas river 39 06 03 A REPORT OF THE EXPLORING EXPEDITION TO OREGON AND NORTH CALIFORNIA, IN THE YEARS 1843-'44. 105 [ 174 ] REPORT. Washington City, March 1, 1845. Colonel J. J. Abert, 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 1843, 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 which 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, Louis Menard, Francois Badeau, Louis Montreuil, Oliver Beaulieu, Samuel Neal, Baptiste Bernier, Alexis Pera, John A. Campbell, Frangois Pera, John G. Campbell, • James Power, Manuel Chapman, Raphael Proue, Ransom Clark, Oscar Sarpy, Philibert Courteau, Baptiste Tabeau, Michel Crelis, Charles Taplin, William Creuss, Baptiste Tesson, Clinton Deforest, Auguste Vasquez, Baptiste Derosier, Joseph Verrot, Basil Lajeunesse, Patrick White, Frangois Lajeunesse, Tiery Wright, Henry Lee, Louis Zindel, and [ 174 ] 106 Jacob Dodson, a free young colored man of Washington city, who vol- 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 tvvelvecarts, drawn each 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 GofFe, 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 1842. 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. By making this deviation from the former route, the problem of a new road to Oregon and California, in a climate more genial, might be solved ; and a better knowledge obtained of an important river, and the country it drained, while the great object of the expedition would find its point of commencement at the termination of the former, which was at that great gate in the ridge of the Rocky mountains called the South Pass, and on the lofty peak of the mountain which overlooks it, deemed the highest peak in the ridge, and from the opposite 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 3lst, 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. .1. B. Childs, of Missouri. The wagons were variously freighted with goods, furniture, and farming utensils, coii- 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 leet 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 encam.ped the day previous, and to which he had re- turned in search of a runaway horse belonging to Mr. D wight, which had taken the homev/ard 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 Sth at the mouth of the Smoky- hill fork, vvrhich 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 [ 174 ] 108 a particiila.r description. Now and then, Ave caught a ghmpse 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 frequently luxuriant and rich. We had been gradually and regularly as- cending in our progress westward, and on the evening of the 14th, when we encamped on a Uttle creek in the valley of the Republican, 265 miles by our travelling road from the mouth of the Kansas, we were at an eleva- 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, 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 1 6th, 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 daclyloides.) Amorpha canescens {lead plant) continued the characteristic plant of the country, and a narrow-leaved lathyrus oc- curred during the morning in beautiful patches. Sida coccinea occurred frequently, with a psoralia near psoralia Jloribunda, 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 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 limbered 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/>sor«/e«, and a dwarf species of lupinus, are the characteristic plants. 109 [ 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 traveling a few days after v/ards. 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. Jane 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 n 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 pallens.) which had made its ap- pearance only within the last few days. We halted to noon at a solitary cottonwood in a hollow, near which was killed the first buffalo, a large old bull. Antelope appeared in bands during the day. Crossing here to the affluents of the Republican, we encamped on a fork, about forty feet wide and one foot deep, flowing with a swift current over a sandy bed, and well wooded with ash-leaved maple, {negundo fraxinifoliuin,) elm, cottonwood, and a few white oaks. We were visited in the evening by a very violent storm, accompaniedby wind, lightning, and thunder; a cold rain fliUing 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, {fraxiniis, near F. ^.'Imericana,) and ash-leaved maple. With these wevefraxiniis ^rnericajia, coUonwood^a-ud 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- tle creek, where the air was fragrant with the perfume oi artemisia Jilifolia, 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- [ 174 ] 110 ingly in keeping. On the opposite side, the hroken ridges assumed ahnost a mountainous appearance ; and, fording the stream, we continued on our course among these ridges, and encamped late in the evening at a iittle 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 countrv in countless numbers. The soil of bare and hot sands supported a varied and exuberant growth of plants, which were much farther advanced t,han 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 roiling 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, 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 tiie preceding winter, and were now on their way up the Bijou fork to beg horses from the Arapahoes, who were hunting buffalo at the head of that river. Several came into our camp at noon ; and, as they were hungry, as usual, they were provided with buffalo meat, of which the hunters had brought in an abundant supply. About noon, on the 4th of July, we arrived at the fort, where Mr. St. Vrain received us with his customary kindness, and invited us to join him in a feast which had been prepared in honor of the day. Our animals were very much worn out, and our stock of provisions 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 Avithout seeing some kind of game, and where it was fre- quently abundant. It was a rare thing to lie down hungry, and we hadal- 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 Une 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 cotton wood 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. His post was beginning to assume the appearance of a comfortable farm : stock, hogs, and cattle, were ranging about on the prairie ; there were different kinds of poultry ; and there was 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 ArapahoeSy 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. [ 174 ] 112 Though disappointed iu obtaining the presents which had been evident- ly expected, they behaved very courteously, and, after a httle conversation. I left them, and, continuing on up the river, halted to noon on the bluff', as the bottoms are almost inundated; continuing in the afternoon our route along the mountains, which were dark, misty, and shrouded — 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 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. On our right, and apparently very near, but probably 8 or 10 miles distant, and two or three thousand feet above us, ran the first range of the 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 11 o'clock, and 21 miles from St. Vrain's fort, we reached a point in this southern fork of the Platte, where the stream is divided into three forks; two of these (one of them being much the largest) issuing directly from the mountains on the west, and forming, with the 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 tiiere 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 oi 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 3 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 onr 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 crystai 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 Avhich runs from St. Vrain's fort to the Arkansas. July 10. — Snow fell heavily on the mountains during the night, and Pikers 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 co?'tt/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 cs/zd/ra^^'/^, {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 ]uxu« 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 ciay until dark. After descending, with a slight inclination, until it had gone the depth of two feet, the hole suddenly turned at a sharp angle in another direction for one more foot in depth, when it again turned, taking an ascending direction to the next nearest hole. I have no doubt that all their little habitations communicate with each other. The greater part of 8 C 174 ] 114 the people were sick to-day, and I vvas 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 3iiorning to the southward, up the valley of Bijou. Esparcette occurred universally, and among the plants on the river I noticed, for the first time during this journey, a few small bushes of the absinthe of the voyageurs, which is commonly used for fire wood, {arternisia tridentata. ) Yesterday and to-day the road has been ornamented with the showy bloom of a beau- tiful lupinus, a characteristic in many parts of the mountain region, on which were generally great numbers of an insect with very bright colors, {lltta vesical 07'ia.) As we were riding quietly along, eagerly searching every hollow in search of game, wc discovered, at a little distance in the prairie, a large grizzly bear, so busily engaged in digging roots that he did not perceive us ;ontil 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 Mow, in almost every direction, to the Arkansas, Platte, and Kansas rivers; the latter stream ha\iing here its remotest sources. Although somewhat rocky and broken, and covered with pines, in comparison with the neigh- iboring 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 fsresents itself to travellers on the plains, which sweep almost directly to its liases; an immense and comparatively smooth and grassy prairie, in very rstrong contrast with the black masses of timber, and the glittering snow above them. This is the picture which has been left upon my mind; and 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 ^reat variety of grasses, among which the most abundant is the buff'alo grass, ^jsesleria dactyloides.) Between the Platte and Arkansas rivers, that part of this region which forms the basin drained by the waters of the Kansas, i^ith which our operations made us more particularly acquainted, is based ®ipon a formation of calcareous rocks. The soil of all this country is ex- ^cellent, admirably adapted to agricultural purposes, and would support a yarge agricultural and pastoral population. A glance at the map accompa- ©yiig this report, along our several lines of travel, will show you that this fjfain is watered by many streams. Throughout the western half of the |3»iain, these are shallow, with sandy beds, becoming deeper as they reach riiie richer lands approaching the Missouri river ; they generally have bottom m OT«>a'^-t?i-y: f^ •^oT*^^^ 115 \^uZ,. ■ ■-' [ 174 3 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, whick 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 rardy appear elsewhere than on the ridge, we encamped at its foot, where there were several springs, which you will find laid down upon the mapas one of the extreme sources of the Smoky Hill fork of the Kansas. From this place the view extended over the Arkansas valley, and the Spanish peaks in the south beyond. As the greater part of the men continued sick, I encamped here for the day, and ascertained conclusively, from experiments on myself, that their illness was caused by the meat of the buffalo bull. On the summit of the ridge, near the camp, were several rock-built forts, which in front were very difficult of approach, and in the rear were 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 Fonfaine-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 i^ 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, whichissues 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- [ 174 ] 116 de near his lodge. Shortly afterwards, a party of mountaineers galloped up to us — fine-looking and hardy men, dressed in skins and moiuited on good fat horses ; among them were several Connecticut men, a portion of Wyeth's party, whom I had seen the year before, and others were men from the western States. Continuing down the river, we encamped at noon on the 14th at its mouth, on the Arkansas river. A short distance above our encampment, on the left bank of the Arkansas, is a pveblo, (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 Mexicaft 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 tlie Sjyanish 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 diere had been a popular tumult among the ptie bios, or civilized Indians, residing near Taos, against the ^^ foreigners^'' of that place, in which they bad plundered their houses and ill-treated their families. Among those whose properly had been destroyed, was Mr. Beaubien, father-in-law of Maxwell, from whom I had expected to obtain suppUes, and who had been obliged to make his escape to Santa Fe. By this position of aftairs, our expectation of obtaining supplies from Taos was cut off. I had here the satisfaction to meet our good buffalo hunter of 1842, Christopher Carson, whose services I considered myself fortunate to secure again ; and as a reinforcement of mules was absolutely iiecessary, 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. Vrain'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 2€th, in the event that he should succeed in his commission. Our direction was up the Boiling Spring river, it being my intention to visit the celebrated springs from which the river takes its name, and which are on its upper waters, at the foot of Pike's peak. Our animals fared well while we were oa this stream, there being every where a great abundance of /^re/e. Ipo- meu leptophylla, in bloom, was a characteristic plant along the river, geii- fijaliy in large bunches, with two to five flowers on each. Beautiful clu3- 117 [ 174 ] ters of the plant resembling inirahilis 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 kixuriant 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 boihng 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 which had been drinking at the spring was startled by my approach, and, springing across the river, bounded off up the mountain. In the upper part of the rock, which had apparently been formed by 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 valle37- 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 ISth 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 foimd very much to resemble that of the famous Selter springs in the grand duchy of Nassau, a country famous for wine and mineral waters; and it is almost entirely of the same character, though still more agreeable than that of the famous Bear springs, near Bear river of the Great Salt lake. The 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 ^ • - - - - .2S Chloride of magnesia [ 174 ] 118 Silica --.---, 1.50 Vegetable matter ------ .20 Moisture and loss - - - - -4.61 100.00 At 11 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 ihe flat rock, more exposed to the sun, was 69°. Atsmiset, 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 34.3°. The trees in the neighborhood Avere birch, willow, pine, and an oak re- sembling quercus alba. In the shrubbery along the river are currant bushes, (ribesy) 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 spirsea ari^folia. 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 to reach the mouth of the eastern fork, which I proposed to ascend. The left bank of the river here is very much broken. There is a handsome little bottom on the right, and both banks are exceedingly picturesque — • strata of red rock, in nearly perpendicular walls, crossing the valley from tioith 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 univralve shell, which appears to belong to the ^Qxm.B,inoceramus, 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 o( the' Fonlaine-qui-botdt 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 angustifolla,) called by the Canadians Hard amlre. 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 efl'ect 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 Platie 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 aristata) was very frequent ; but the most abundant plant along our road to-day was geranium maculatum, 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 thac fork of the river which we had ascended on the 8th of July. Our animals enjoyed the abundant rushes this evening, as the flies were so bad among the pines that they had been much harassed. A deer was killed here this evening; and again the evening was overcast, and a collection of brilliant red clouds in the west was followed by the customary squall of rain. Achillea millefolium (milfoil) was among the characteristic plants of the river bottoms to-day. This was one of the most common plants during the whole of our journey, occurring in almost every variety of situation, I noticed it on the lowlands of the rivers, near the coast of the Pacific, and near to the snow among the mountains of the Sierra Nevada. During this excursion, we had surveyed to its head one of the two 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 m^ountain 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' coflEee,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 [ 174 ] 120 of finding some convenient point of passage for the road of emigration, which would enable it to reach, on a more direct hne, 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, L 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 the3'- 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 their 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 by the Cache-d- laPoudrt 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 1 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, s-he 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 Proue, Jacob Dodson, Louis Zindely 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 wetravelled, (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 Font aim- qui-houit. V Our various barometrical observations, which are better worthy of con- fidence than the isolated determination of 1842, give, for the elevation of the fort above the sea, 4,930 feet. The barometer here used was also a better one, and less liable to derangement. At the end of two days, which was allowed to my animals for necessary repose, all the arrangements had been completed, and on the afternoon of the 26th we resumed our respective routes. Some little trouble was 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 [ 174 ] 122 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 vihq, (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 5Q 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 Cache-a-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 buttesand precipices, while to the left a high rolling country extended to a range of the Black hills, beyond which rose the great mountains around Long's peak. By the great quantity of snow visible among them, it had probably 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 biittes, 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 weather. 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 we encountered during our journey. July 31. — The morning was 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 weather was pleasant and cool ; we were disturbed by neither musquitoes nor flies; and the country was certainly extremely beautiful. The slopes and broad ravines were absolutely covered with fields of flowers oi the most exquisitely beauti- ful colors. Among those which had not hitherto made their appearance, and; which 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 cottonvvood 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 was a characteristic of the stony ground in the afternoon. The camp was roused into a little excitement by a chase after a buffalo bull, and an encounter with a war party of Sioux and Cheyenne Indians about 30 strong. Hares and antelope were seen during the day, and one of the latter was killed. The Laramie peak was in sight this afternoon. The evening was clear, with scattered clouds : temperature 62°. The day's journey was 26 miles. 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- [ 174 ] 124 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 Avith 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 arHcle 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 trappers, 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 oi artemisia 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 ai 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 1,800 feet above the plain, from which it rises abruptly, and was still white, nearly to its base, with a great quantity of snow. The streams were timbered with the long-leaved cottonwood and red willow ; and dur- ing the afternoon a species of onion was very abundant. I obtained here an immersion of the first satelUte 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 i5t dee-agie, or Prairie Hen [letrao urophasianus) 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 travelUng, it was called the Bitter Root river, from tiie great abundance in its valley of a plant which affords them one of their favorite roots. Lower down, from Brown's hole to the southward, the river runs through lofty chasms, walled in by precipices* of red rook ; 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 knowrj^, 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 £ 174 ] 130 and rapids. From many descriptions of trappers, it is probable that in its foaming course among its lofiy precipices it presents m.any 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. 'J'he 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, passhig 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 leet 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. *ntugust 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 ihe 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. Smce 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 V lier relations at Bridger's fort, which is only a mile or two distant, on a fork of this stream. \n the evening we encamped on a salt creek, about ^fteen feet wide, having to-day travelled 32 miles. I obtained an emersion of the first satellite under favorable circumstances, i-?^e night being still and clear. One of our mules died here, and in this portion of our journey we lost :sax 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 r.-ssif^ Other nourishment than grass. The American horses (as those are 131 [ 174 ] tisiially 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. 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.'" 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 ooUiic structure, which, in connexion witfi the neighboring strata, authorize us to believe that here, on the west side of the Rocky mountains, we find repeated the modern formations of Greal: 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 Q4, QS, and 74. In the afternoon we continued our road, and, searching among the hilts 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, containin-^j* very clear and beautiful impressions of vegetable remains, this was the m.ost interesting fossil locality I had met in the country, and I deeply re- gretted that lime did not permit me to remain a dav or two in the vicinity; but I could not anticipate the delays to which I rnight 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 stream, where we found but very poor grass. In the evenin«^ a fine cow, with her calf, which had strayed oif from some emigrant part}% were found several miles from tlie road, and brought into camp; and as she gave an abundance of milk, we enjoyed to-night an excellent cup of coffee. We travelled lo-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. Jivgust 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 saridstone and limestone with shells, whh a bedof 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 tb^ Kainbow^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, \Ying upon a white clay, on the upper line of whiqk the whole road is abmidantly stipplied with beautiful cool springs, gushing [ 174 ] 132 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, tlirough 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, l)ut 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, but which, in the mean time, left a crowded field for the exercise of our imagination. In our occasional conversations with the few old hunters who had visited ilie 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 own camp, 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 ibalf expected to realize. 5 / , -J ^J^l^;^>wl^ [ 174 ] 134 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 clays 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 necessar^^ 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 onr 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. We found that we had encamped near a large party of emigrants; and a few miles below another party was alr-eady 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- maent, which v/as situated on a small stream near the river. We had approached within something more than a mile of the village, when suddenly a single horseman emerged from it at full speed, followed by another, and another, in rapid succession ; and then party after party poured into the plain, until, when the foremost rider reached us, all the whole intervening plain was occupied by a mass of horsemen, which came charging down upon us with guns and naked swords, lances, and bows and arrows — Indians entirely naked, and warriors fully dressed for war, with the long red streamers of their war bonnets reaching nearly to the ground — all mingled together in the bravery of savage warfare. They had been thrown into a sudden tumult by the appearance of our flag, which, among these people, is regarded as an emblem of hostility ; it being usually borne by the Sioux, and the neighboring mountain Indians, when they come here to war; and we had accordingly been mistaken for a body of their enemies. A few words from the chief quieted the excitement; and the whole band, increasing every moment in number, escorted us to their encampment, where the chief pointed out a place for us to encamp, near his own lodge, and 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- 135 [ 174 J: 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 all the day, were scattered the emigrant wagons,) we continued on down the valley of the river, bordered by high and mountainous hills, on which fires are seen at the summit. The soil appears generally good, although, with the grasses, many of the plants are dried up, probably on account of the great heat and want of rain. The common blue flax of cultivation, now almost entirely in seed — only a 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 growing as in a sown field. We had travelled during the day 22 miles, encamping in latitude (by observation) 42° 36' 56", chrono- melric longitude 111° 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 .scorzfl/- ed hisalt 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 fromr^. he voyageurs and trappers of the countr}^, who, in the midst of their rude [ 174 ] 136 and hcird 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 aeon- 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 up, in form like ^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 subterranean noise, which, together with the motion of the water, makes very much the impression of a steamboat in motion ; and. without knowing that it had been already previously so called, we gave to it the name of the Steamboat spring. The rock through which it is forced is slightly raised in a convex manner, and gathered at the opening into an urn-mouthed form, and is evidently formed by continued deposition from the water, and colored bright red by oxide of iron. An analysis of this •deposited rock, which I subjoin, will give you some idea of the properties of the water, which, with the exception of the Beer springs, is the mineral water of the place.* It is a hot spring, and the water has a pungent and disagreeable metallic taste, leaving a burning effect on the tongue. Within perhaps two yards of the jet-d^eaii 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 at our encamp- ment; and, while we were sitting at the spring, a band of boys and girlSy * AXALTSIS. Carbonate of lime -__-___ 92 55 Carbonate of magnesia ------- 0.42 Oxide of iron - - - - - - - -1.05 Silica "^ Alumina v. -,- - - - - - 5.98 Water and los.s j 100.00 W ^ ^> i?:ilMG&. Scale . Orie 3AZf to an Inch 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 spinngs, which have given name to this locality, are agreeable, but less highly flavored than the Boiling springs at the foot of Pike's peak, which are of the same character. They are very numerous, and half hidden by tufts of grass, which we amused ourselves in removing and searching about for more highly impregnated springs. They are some of them deep, and of various sizes — sometimes several yards in diameter, and kept in constant motion by columns of escaping gas. By analysis, one quart of the water contains as follows : Grains. Sulphate of magnesia ------ 12. 10 Sulphate of lime -----..- 2.12 Carbonate of lime ------- 3.86 Carbonate of magnesia ------ 3.22 Chloride of calcium ------ 1.33 Chloride of magnesium ------ 1.12 Chloride of sodium ------ 2.24 Vegetable extractive matter, &c. ----- 0.85 26.84 The carbonic acid, originally contained in the water, had mainly escaped before it was subjected to analysis; and it was not, therefore, taken into consideration. In the afternoon I wandered about among the cedars, which occupy the greater part of the bottom towards the mountains. The soil here has a dry and calcined appearance; in some places, the open grounds are covered with saline efflorescences, and there are a number of regularly shaped and very remarkable hills, which are formed of a succession of convex strata that have been de])Osited 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 [ 174 ] 138 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 m 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 ihese small limestoue columns, about one foot in diameter at the base, and tapering upwards to a height of three or four hQi ; 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 ihem, 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 titfa, composed principally of the remains of mosses, three or four, and sometinies 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 J5eer 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° 46' 00" for the longitude. The night was very still and 139 [ 174 ] cloudless, and I sat up for an observation of the first satellite of Jupiter, the emersion of which took place about midnight ; but fell asleep at the telescope, awaking just a few minutes after the appearance of the star. The morning of the 26th was calm, and the sky without clouds, but smoky; and the temperature at sunrise 28.5°. 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 Hal), 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 alons; 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 laontana) had been seen on the craggy point. As we were about resuming our march in the afternoon, I was attracted by the singular appearance of an isolated hill with a concave summit, in the plain, about two miles from the river, and turned off" towards it, while the camp proceeded on its way 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 suflicient 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 [ 174 ] 140 the production of a modern volcano, and having all the appearance of the lighter scoriaceous lavas of Mount ^tna, 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 21. — 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. Jlugnst 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 Sb'^, 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 caiion, 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 Jimericana,) 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 jSW., 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 hito the trail from the north. W^e 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. We halted to noon at what may be called the gate of the pass; on either side of which were huge mountains of rock, between which stole a little pure water stream, with a margin just sufficiently large for our passage. From the river, the plain had gradually risen to an altitude of 5,500 feet, and, by meridian 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- tioiis from the rock. [ 174 ] 142 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 7'ooi 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. INearly 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 S landing 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- 5STJSS?5^J?ra?'^5^SSi;s:^S?p^^"^^S CO O 1 H > Z o u o A 143 [ 174 ] over a long extent of Bear river, with the broad and fertile Cache vah in the direction of our search, was only to be seen a bed of apparently impraclicabie 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 beUef that it would eventually bring us right, A squall of rain drove us out of the mountain, and ii 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 5,580 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 liens, 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 tlie right grew lower, and, on entering a more open country, we discovered a Shoshonee village ; and be- ing desirous to obtain information, and purchase fronr them some roots and berries, we halted en 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 i^w 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 vvhich the buflalo is disappearing from our territories will not appear surprising when we remember the great scale on whicii their destruction is yearly carried on. With inconsiderable exceptions, the business of the American trading posts is carried on in then- skins ; every year the lijdian villages make new lodges, for which the skin of the buffalo furnishes tha 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 j and as, Uke them, they are visibly diminishing, it will be [ 174 ] 144 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 aaid acquaintance with the country. Our knowledge does not go farther back than the spring of 1824, at which time the buffalo were spread in immense numbers over the Green river and Bear river valleys, and through all the country lying between the Colorado, or Green river of the gulf of California, and Lewis's fork of the Columbia river; the meridian of Fort Hall then forming the western limit of their range. The buffalo then remained for many years in that country, and frequently moved down the valley of the Columbia, on both sides of the river as far as the Fishing Jails. Below this point they never descended in any numbers. About the year 1834 or 1835 they began to diminish very rapidly, and continued to decrease until 1838 or 1840, when, with the country we have just described, they entirely abandoned all the waters of the Pacific north of Lewis's fork of the Columbia. At that time, the 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 groiand. In that region lying between the Green or Colorado river and the head waters of the Rio del 2^ orte, over the Yarnpah, Kooyah, White, 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 mountahis, 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 highway s^ 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 mountain ranges. The Snake Indians, more particularly those low down upon Lewis's fork, have always been very grateful to the American trappers, for the great kindness (as they frequently expressed it) which they did to them, in driving the buffalo so low down the Columbia river. The extraordinary abundance of the buffalo on the east side of the Rocky 145 [ 174 ] mountains, and their extraordinary diminution, will be made clearly evi- dent from the following statement : At any time between the years 1824 and 183^, 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 thistime, 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. Sanfprd, a partner in the American Fur Company, will further illustrate this subject, by extensive knowledge acquired during several years of travel through the , reojion inhabited bv the buffalo : ^ " The total amount of robes annually traded by ourselves and others will not be found to differ much from the following statement : Robesc American F^ur Company , . . - - 70,000 Hudson's Bay Company - - - ... - J 0,000 All other companies, probably - - - - 10,000 Making a total of - - - - - ' - 90,000 as an average annual return for the last eight or ten years. " in the northwest, the Hudson's Bay Company purchase from the 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 anv season. Prob- ably »ot 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 'munths, and in the earfy 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 a're certainly limited, and decidedly wfthiri bounds, the reader is left to draw his own inference of the immense niirh- ber annually killed. In 1842, I found the Sioux Indians of the Upper Platte demontes^ as their French traders expressed it, with the failure of the buffalo ; and in the 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 failure of their principal and almost their only means of subsistence has created great alarm among them ; and at this time there are only two modes presented to them, by which they se^ a good prospect for escaping starva-* « 10 [ 174 ] 146 lion : 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 veiy 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 had such a hungry appearance, that I suffered the little cow to be killed, and divided the roots and berries among the people. A number of Indians from the village encamped near. The weather the next morning was clear, the thermometer at sunrise at 44". 5, and, continuing down (he valley, in about iive 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 lushes. Here the river was forty feet wide, with a considerable current; and the valley a mile and a halfio 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 IV. By observation, our latitude v.a:i 41° 59' 31", and tlie elevation above the sea 4,670 feet. On our left, this afternoon, the range at long intervals formed itself into peakf, appearing to terminate, about 147 [ 174 3 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. Towards evening, our way was somewhat obstructed by fields of artemisia^ which began to make their appearance here, and we encamped on the Roseaux, the water of which had acquired a decidedly salt taste, nearly opposite to a cafion 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 w^ound 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 I. — The morning wassqually 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 Beai- rivers, we continued to descend the valley, which gradually expanded, as we advanced, into a level plain of good soil, about 2.5 miles in breadth, between moun- tains 3,000 and 4,000 i^eet high, rising suddenly to the clouds, wtiich all 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, resetnbling islands, vvhich they w ere after- wards found to be. On this upper plain the grass was every where dead ; and among the shrubs with which it u'as ahnost exclusively occupied, ( arte- misia being the jnost abundant,) frequently occurred handsome clusters of several species of dieleria in bloom. Purshia tridcntaia was among the frequent shrubs. Descending to tiie bottoms of Bear river, we ibund good grass for the animals, and encamped about 300 yards above the moutii of Roseaux, which here makes its junction, without commufiicating any of its salty taste to the main stream, of which the water remains perfectly pure. On the river are only willow thickets, [salix longifolia^) and in the bottoms the abundant plants are canes, solidago, and belianthi, and along the banks of Roseaux are fields of malva TGtyndifolia. At sunset the ther- mometer was at 54*^.5, and the evernng clear and calm ; but I deferred making any use of it until I o'clock in the inorniog, when I endeavored to obtain an emersion of the first satellite ; but it was lost in a bank of clouds, which also rendered our usual obsei'vations 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-tijz;ht cylinders^ eighteen inches in diaineter, connected with others forming the bow and ste?fj. To lessen the danger from accidents to the boat, these were divided into four different compartments, and the interior space was sufficiently larse to contain five or six persons and a considerable weight of ba^fi'TSce. The Roseaux being too deep to be forded, our b6at 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 Lajeunesso, and paddled down Bear river, intending at night to rejoin the party, which ia the mean time proceeded on its way. The river was from sixty to One £174 2 148 hundred yards broad, and ihe water so deep, that ev;en on the comparatively shallow points we could not reach the bottom with 1^ feet. On either side were alternately low bottoms and willow points, with an occasional high prairie ; and for five or six hours we followed slowly the winding course of the river, which crept along with a sluggish current among frequent detours several miles around, sometimes running for a considerable distance directly up the valley. As we were stealing quietly down the stream, trying in vain to get a shol 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 apj)eared very- busy about several weiis or nets which had been rudely Uiade of 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 nien 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, asiftheii lives had been spent in the rushes where they were^ beyond which they seemed to have very little knowledge of any thing. F^rom the few words we could comprehend, their language was that of the Snake Indians. Our boat moved so heavily, thatwe 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/ew 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 three hours high when we found the trail ; and aso\ir people had passed early in the day, we had the prospect ofa vigorous walk before us. Immediately where we landed, the high arable plain on which we had been travelling for several days past terminated in extensive low fiats, vei'y generally occupied by salt marshes, or beds of shallow lakes, whence the water had in most places evaporated, lea^'ing 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 pppearance ; and there was no other vegetation (ban the shrubby chenopodiaceous and other apparently saline plants, which were confined to the rising grounds. Here and there on the river bank, which was raised like a levee above the fiats through which it ran, was a narrow border of grass and short black-burnt willows ; the stream being very deep and sluggish, and sometimes GOO to 800 feet wide. After a rapid walk of about 15 miles, we caughl sight of the camp fires among clumps of willows jus£ as the sun had sunk behind the mountains on the west side of the vat- ley, filling the clear sky- with a golden yellow. 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, altera hard march in a region of novelty, approaching the debouches of a river, in a lake of alujost fabulous reputation, it was doubly so. A plewtiful supper of aquatic birds, and the interest of the scene, soon dissipated fatigue; and I obtained during the 149 [ 171 3 night emersions of the second, third, and fourth satellites of Jupiter, with observations for lime and latitude. September 3. — The morning was clear, with a light air from the norths 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 across 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 willows ; but we were evidently in the vicinity of the lake, and the water fowl made this morning a noise like thunder. A pelican {pelecanus ono- crotalus) was killed as he passed by, and many geese and ducks flew over the camp. On the dry salt marsh here, is scarce any other plant than salicornia herbncea. 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 ineat. 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 we accordingly encamped at the little delta which forms the mouth of Bear river ; a long arm of the lake stretching up to the north between us and the opposite mountains. The river was bordered with a fringe of willows and canes, among which were interspersed a few plants ; and scattered about on the marsh was a species of wnio/a, closely allied to U. spicata of our sea coast. The whole morass was animated with multitudes of water fowl, which appeared to be- very wild — rising for the space of a mile round about at the sound of a gun, with a noise like distant thunder. Several of the people waded out into- the marshes, and we had to-night a delicious supper of ducks, geese, and plover. Although the moon was bright, the night was otherwise favorable ; and I obtained this evening an emersion of the first satellite, with the usual ob- servations. A fnean result, depending on various observations made during our stay in the neighborhood, places the mouth of the river in longitude 112° 19' 30' west 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 pieparing 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 were very scarce, and dilficult to be had at Fort Hall, which had been entirely ex- hausted by the necessities of the emigrants. He brought me also a letter from Mr. Dwight, who, in company with several emigrants, had reached that place in advance of Mr. Fitzpatrick, and was about continuing his journey to Vancouver. Returning about five miles up the river, we were occupied until nearly sunset in crossing to the left bank — the stream, which in the last five or six. miles of its course, is very much narrower than above, being very deep im- mediately at the banks; and we had great diOficuUy in getting our animals ;[ 174 ] 150 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 ni«;ht, with a thunder storm at a distance. September b. — 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 tlie river was a very narrow strip of vegetation, consisting of willows, helianthi, roses, flowering vines, and grass ; bordered on the verge of the great marsh by a fringe of singular plants, which appear to be a shrubby salicornia,or a genus allied to it. About 12 miles to the southward was one of those isolated mountains, "now appearing to be a kind of peninsula ; and towards this we accordingly directed our course, as it probably afforded a good view of the lake ; but the deepening mud as we advanced forced us to return 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, witli 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 (eupatoriiim 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 {^lycyrrhiza 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 hackberry trees, {celtis,) probably a new species, the berries still gieen ; 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 the springs, •gives the following result: Peroxide of iron - - - - - - - - - 33.50 Carbonate of magnesia , . - _ _ - , - . 2.40 Carbonate of lime - - - - - - - - 50.43 Sulphate of lime - - - - - - - - - 2.00 Chloride of sodium - - - - - - - 3.45 Silica and alumina - - J - - - - - 3.00 Water and loss - - - - - - - - * - 5.22 100.00 \ 151 [ 174 ] « o 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, streifching in still and solitary grandeur far beyond the limit of our vision. It was one of the great points of the exploration ; and as we looked eagerly over the lake in the first emotions of excited pleasure, I am doubtful if the followers of Balboa felt more enthusiasm when, from the heights of the Andes, they saw for the first time the great Western ocean. It was certainly a magnificent object, and a noble terminus to this part of our 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 were 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 down 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 now exhausted, and our stock reduced to a small quantity of roots, I determined to retain with me only a sufficient number of men for the execution of our design ; and accordingly seven were sent back to Fort Hall, under the guidance of Francois Lajeunesse, who, having been for many years a trapper in the country, was considered an experienced mountaineer. Though they were provided v.ith 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, wandered about the country in parties of one or two, reaching the fort about a week afterwards. Somei. [ 174 ]; 152 strag2;^ed in of themselves, and the others were brought in by Indians vVho 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 Columhia. 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- sen, 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 occulta- 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-morrow would bring forth, and in our busy conjectures ue fancied that we should iihd every one of the large islands a tangled wilderness of trees and shrub- bery, teeming with game of every description that the neighboring region aflfordetl, and which the foot of a white man or Indian had never violated. Frequently, during the day, clouds had rested on the summits of th^ir 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 was only pasted together in a very inse- cure manner, the maker having been allowed so little time in the construc- tion, that he was obliged to crowd the labor of two months into several days. The insecurity of the boat was sensibly felt by us ; and, mingled with the enthusiasm and excitement that we all felt at the prospect of an undertaking which had never before been accomplished, was a ceitain 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 great 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 was generally associated. September 8. — A calm, clear day, witfi 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, and were now placed in the boat, with our blankets and instruments, consisting of a sextant, telescope, spy glass, thermometer, and barometer. 153 [ 174 3 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 that it was with difficulty we could get the boat along, being obliged to get out and wade. We encamped on a low point among rushes and young willows, where there was a quan- tity of dr4ft 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 a't night, and for breakfast the next morning. The stillness of the night was enlivened by millions of water fowl. Latitude (by observation) 41° H' 26"; and longitude 112*^ 11' 30". September 9. — The day was 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, with a few inches of water, and sometimes none at all, forming the low-water shore of the lake. All this place was absolutely covered with flocks of screaming plover. We took off our clothes, and, getting overboard, commenced dragging the boat — making, by this 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, with only an insipid and disagreeable taste, probably derived from the bed of fetid mud. After proceeding in this way about a mile, we came to a small black ridge on the bottom, beyond which the water became 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 which was formed like the crater at the upper end of Bear river valley. So long as we could touch the bottom with our paddles, we were very gay ; but gradually, as the water deepened, we became more still in our frail batteau of gum cloth distended with air, and with pasted seams» Although the day was very calm, there was a considerable swell on the lake ; and theie 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 water 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 con-- £ 174 ] 154 verted into a crust of common salt, which covered also our hands and arras, " Captain," said Carson, who for some time had been looking suspiciously at some whitening appearances outside the nearest islands, " what are those yonder ? — won't you just take a look with the glass ?'" We ceased paddling for a moment, and found them to be the caps of the waves that were 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 smootlier water under the lee of the island ; and began to discover that what we took for a long row of pelicans, ranged on the beach, were only low cliffs whitened with salt by the spraj 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- 4iient. 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, entirelyof the /arute 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, I 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, or a similar worm, that the bags had been filled. The stoiiiachs 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 f y T/ir GREAT SALT LAKE. SrAlF 1: lOOOOOO y^ 155 .' ,.[ 174 ] ■of Ills numerous trapping expeditions, in which he is celebrated as one of the best and bravest leaders vvho have ever been in the country. The cliffs and ma^sses 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 mapon 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 o;reater. 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. 1 therefore unwillingly resolved to terminate our survey here, and remain sat- isfied for the present with what we had been able to add to the unknown geography of the region. We felt pleasure also in remembering that we were the first who, in the traditionary annals of the country, had visited the islands, and broken, with the cheerful sound of human voices, the long 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 [ 174 ] ' 156 bill, on which there is neither water nor trees of any kind; although the Fremontia vermicularis^ which was in great abundance, might easily be mistaken for timber at a distance. The plant seemed here to delight in a congenial aii , growing in extraordinaiy 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 obione, (O. rigida, Torr. »^ Freyn ,) 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 tbe water, was a woolly species oi' 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. \ accidentally left on the summit the brass cover to the object end of my spy glass ; and as it will probably remain there undisturbed by Indians, it will furnish matter of speculation to some future traveller. In our excur- sions about tbe 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 stealite, 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. \\\ the first disap- pointment we felt from the dissipation of our dream of the fertile islands, I called this Disappointment island. Out of the diift wood, we made ourselves pleasant little lodges, open to the water, and, after having kindled large fires to excite the wonder of any straggling savage on the lake shores, lay down, for the first time in a long journey, in perfect security ; no one thinking about his arms. The even- ing was extremely bright and pleasant ; but the wind rose during the niglu, and the waves began to break heavily on the shore, making our island tremble, i had not expected in our inland jouiney to hear the roar of an ocean surf; and the strancreness of our situation, and the excitement we felt in the associated interests of the place, made this one of the most iti- 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 which our boat strained very much. It roughened as we got away from the island, and it required all (he efforts of the men to make any head against the wind and sea ; the gale rising with the sun, and theie 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 dining the operation of rounding it was necessary to cease pad- dling, during which the boat lost considerable way, I was unwilling lo dis- courage the men, anc^'eluctantly gave up my intention of ascertaining the depth, and the character of the bed. There was a general shout in the boat when we found ourselves in one fathom, and we soon after landed on a low point of mud, immediately under the butte of the peninsula, where we unloaded the boat, and carried the baggage about a quarter of a mile to firmer ground. We arrived just in time for meridian observation, and carried the barometer to the summit of the butte, which is 500 feet above the lake. Mr. Preuss set otFon 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 Fishermari' s camp. Lynosiris groveolena, and another new species of OBIONE, (0. contertifolia — Torr. S^ Frem.^) were growing on the low grounds, with interspersed spots of an unwholesome salt grass, on a saline clay soil, with a few other plants. The horses arrived late in the afternoon, by which time the gale had increased to such a height that a man could scarcely stand before it ; and we were obliged to pack our baggage hastily, as the rising water of the lake had already reached the point where we were halted. Looking back as w'e rode off, we found the place of recent encampment entirely covered. The low plain through which we rode to the camp was covered with a compact growth of shrubs (W" extraordinary size and luxuriance. The soil was sandy and saline ; flat places, resembling the beds of ponds, that were bare of vegetation, and covered with a powdery white salts, being inter- spersed among the shrubs. Artemisia tridentata was very abundant, but the plants were principally saline; a laige 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. We reached the camp in time to escape a thunder storm which blackened the sky, and were received with a discharge of the howitzer by the people, who, having been unable to see any thing of us on the lake, had begun to feel some uneasiness. September 11. — To-day we remained at this camp, in order to obtain some further observations, and to boil down the water wliich had been brought from the lake, for a supply of salt. Roughly evaporated over the fire, the five gallons of w^ater yielded fourteen pints of very fine-grained and very white salt, of which the whole lake may be 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 ![ 174 ] 158 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 clilTs 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 deposite from which the Great Lake obtains its salt. Had we remained longer, we should have found tliem in its bed, and in the mountains around its shores. By observation, 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 observations 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 iri 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. W^e 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 (6e?w/a,) the narrow-leaved poplar {populus angustifolia^) several kinds of willow {solix,) hawthorn (cratcBgiis^) al- der (alnus viridis,) and cerasus, with an oak allied to querciis alba, but very distinct from that or any other species in the United States. We had to-night a supper of sea gulls, which Carson killed near the lake^ Although cool, the thermometer standing at;47*^, musquitoes were suflicienjl- ly numerous to be troublesome this evening. September 13. — 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 form's a smaller lake near the river, was broken up into several chan- nels ; and the irrigated bottom of fertile soil was covered with inn inner able flowers, among which weie purple fields of eupatorium purpureum, with '-^ f 159 [ 174 ] heliantlii, 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.^ Arietis, with other ob- 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 11 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 there was rarely an oath to be heard in the camp — not even a solitary en/ant 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 hill& 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 I gave them permission to kill a fat young horse which 1 had purchased with goods from the Snake Indians, and they were very soon restored to gayety and good humor. Mr. Preuss and myself could not yet overcome some remains of civilized preju- dices, and preferred to starve a little longer ; feeling as much saddened as if a crifne 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 difli'erent 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 mentiotied, are sweet and v.-eli flavore(i, requiring only a long preparation. They had a band of twelve or fifteen horses, and appeared to be growing m the sunshine with about as iittle, labor as the plants they were eating. :[ H»4p- 160 Shortly afterwaids we met an Indian on horseback who had killed an antelope, whicli we purchased Irom him for a little powder and some balls. We crossed the Roseaux, and encantped 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 coinjbrt, when Tabeau galloped into the camp with news that Mr. Fitzpatrick was encamped close by us, wath 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 we purchased about a bushel of service berries, partially dried. By the gift of a knife, I prevailed upon a little boy to show me the kooyah plant, which, proved to be Valeriana edulis. The root, which constitutes the kooyah, is large, of a very bright yellow color, with the characteristic odor, but not so fully developed as in the prepared substance. It loves the rich moist soil of river bottoms, w^hich was the locality in which I always afterwards found it. It was how entirely out of bloom ; according to my observation, flower- ing in the njonths of Mtiy and June. In the afternoon we entered a long ravine leading to a pass in the dividing ridge between the waters of Bear river and the Snake river, or Lewis's fork of the Columbia ; our way being very much impeded, and almost entirely blocked up, by compact fields of luxuriant artemisia. Taking leave at this point of the waters of Bear river, and of the geographical basin which encloses the system of rivers and creeks which belong to the Great Salt Lake, and which so richly desei ves 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 ; water excellent ; timber sufficient ; the soil good, and well adapted to the grains and grasses suited to such an elevated region. A military post, and a civilized settlement, would 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. x\U jthe mountain sides here are cover ed with a valuable nutritious grass, called bunch grass, from the form in. which it grows, which has a second growth in the fall. The beasts of the Indians were fat upon it ; our own found it a good subsistence ; and its quantity will sustain any amount of cattle, and make this truly a bucolic region. We met here an Indian family on horseback, which had been out to gather service berries, and were returning loaded. This tree was scattered about on the hills ; and the upper part of the pass was timbered with aspen ; [pop- ulus trem.,) the common blue flowering flax occurring among the plants. The approach to the pass was very steep ; and the summit about 6,300 feet above the sea — probably only an uncertain approximation, as at the time of observation it was blowing a violent gale of wind from the nor thwest, with cumuli scuUered in masses over the sky, the day otherwise bright and clear. We descended, by a steep slope, into a broad open valley — good soil ; from four to five miles wide ; coming down immediately upon one of the head- waters of the Pannack river, which here loses itself in swampy ground. The appearance of the country here is not very interesting. On either side is a regular range of mountains of the usual character, with a little timber, tolerably rocky on the right, and higher and more smooth on the left, with 161 C 174 ] 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 (o-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 anjong the Sioux and other Indians on the eastern side of the Rocky mountains. At sunset the thermometer was at 50*^, and at midniglit at 30^. 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 remaikable difference between the morning and midday temperatures, which at this season was vei"y 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 foik. The Pannackiiver was before us ; the valley be- ing here \h mile wiile, fertile, and bordered by smooth hills, not over 500 feet high, partly covered with cedar; a high ridge, in which there is a prominent peak, rising behind those on the left. We continued to descend this stream, and found on it at night a warm and comfortable camp. Flax occurred so frequently during the day as to be almost a characteristic, and the soil appeared excellent. I'he 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 Cidm and very clear, the stars re- markably bright, and the, thermometer at 30°. Longitude, from mean of satellite and chronometer, 112° 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 " Three 5«/^e5," a well-known land- mark in the country, distunt about 45 miles. The French word buttCy 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 ki:iow 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 Slates, is their most descriptive term in English. Cerro is the Spanish term ; but no translation, or paraphrasis, wou'd preser»ve the identity ol these picturesque landmarks, fairjiliar to the traveller, and often seen at a great distance. Cover ed as far as could be seen with arteruisia, the dark and ugly appearance of this plain obtained for it the name cff the Sage Desert ; and we were agreeably surprised, on reaching the Portneuf river, to see -x beautiful greea valley with scattered timber spread out beneath us, on which, abo^t four aiiles distant, vvere glistening the white walls of the fort. The Portneuf 11 [ 174 ] 162 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, with apparently deep water. In the bottom 1 remarked a very great number of springs and sloughs, with remarkably clear water and gravel beds. At sunset we encamped with Mr. Talbot and our friends, who came on to Fort Hall when we went to the lake, and whom we had the satisfaction to find all well, neither party having met with any mischance in the interval of our separation. They, , too, had had their share of fatigue and scanty provisions, as there had been very little game left on the trail of the populous emigration ; and Mr. Fitzpatrick had rigidly husbanded our stock of flour and light provisions, in view of the approaching winter and the long journey before us. 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 indiflerent 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*^ ; the morning was dark, with a steady rain, and there was still an inch of snov*' 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 1 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 (hey were necessarily exposed, and which there was reason to believe would become more severe in the further extension of the voyage. I accordingly called them together, and, informing them of my intention to continue ourjouiney during (he 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.*CampbeIl, Wm. Creuss, A. Vasquez, A. Pera, Patrick VvMiite, B. Tesson, M. Creely, Francois Lajeunesse, Basil Lajeunesse. Among (hose, 1 regretted very much to lose Basil Lajeunesse, one of the best men in my p^sity, 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 parlies were ready this morning to resume their respective routes. .163 [ 174 J 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 miles. Allowing 50 miles for the road from the Beer spring,^ of Bear river to Fort Hall, its distance along the travelled ior(\ from the town of Westport, on the frontier of Missouri, by way of Fort Laramie and the great South Pass, is L^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 emifi;rants. On their recent passage, they had been able to obtain, at very high prices anii in insufficient quantity, only such assistance as could be afforded by a small and remote trading post — and that a foreign one — which, in the supply of its own wants, had necessarily drawn around it some of the resources of civilization, but which obtained nearly all its supplies from the distant depot of Vancouver, by a difficult water carriage of 250 miles up the 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 2;rain from the produce of the post, would 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 2;en- 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 ------ 503 Oxide of iron - - - . - . . ] 40 Organic vegetable matter - - - . . 4 74 Water and loss ---.--. 4.2 6 100.00 Our observations place this post in longitude 112° 29' 54", latitude 43® 01' 30", and in elevation above the sea 4,500 feet. Taking leave of the homeward party, we resumed our journey dowr r 174 ] 164 the ^'•alley, the weatlier being very cold, and the rain coming in hard gusts, which the wind blew directly in our faces. We forded the Portneuf in a sto!!n of rain, the water in the river being frequently up to the axles, and tibout 110 yards wide. Alter the gust, the weather improved a little, and ^ve 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 soutlivvard. Profited of being obliged to remain in camp, to take hourly barometrical observations from sunrise to midnight. The wind at eleven o'clock setia 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 Ml 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, ^iid entirely covered with artemisia bushes, among which occur frequent fragments of obsidian. At noon we encamped in a grove of willows, at the tapper end of a group of islands, about half a mile above the American falls 3(sf S.nake 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 -»io\¥nward 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 v. hich had been rent through the country, and which the river had afterwards taken for its bed. Tlie immediate valley of the river is a high plain, covered with black rocks sxna aitemisias. In the south is a bordering range of mountains, which, altbough 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'-lhe jdain the three isGiated rugged-looking little mountains commonly known as the Tliree Buttes. Between the river and the distant Salmon river ran^^e, the nlain is represented by Mr. Fitzpatrick as so eruirely broken up and rent into \ chasms as to be impracticable for a man even on foot. In the sketch annexed, J'he point of view is low, but it conveys Very well some idea of the open cbiracter of the country, with the buttes rising out above the general line. iBjmeasurernent, the river above is870leet wide, insmediately contracted at ?itfeefa!l in the form of a lock, by jutting piles of scoriaceous basalt, over which "£he foaming river must present a grand appearance at the titne of high water. T'be evening was clear and pleasant, with dew ; and at sunset the tempera- liire was 54*^. By observation, the latitude is 42*^ 47' 05", and the longi- tii^e, n2® 40' 13". A ^qw hundred yards below the falls, and on the left , Ijaiik of the river, is the escarpment from which were taken the specimens i^lh^t in the appendix are numbered 04, 9G, 97, 101, lOO, 106, and J07. Jkptemher 26. — Thermometer at sunrise 47^. The day came in clear, H Z m > " n > r r- s ?■ ^ w W?WW^ ^ '''-^'f:,wjm 5 >