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REPORT

OF

' , V * * •

THE EXPLORING EXPEDITION

TO

THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS

IN THE YEAR 1842,

AND TO

OREGON AND NORTH CALIFORNIA

IN THE YEARS 1843-’44.

BREVET CAPTAIN J. C. FREMONT,

OF THE TOFOGRAPHICAL ENGINEERS,

UNDER THE ORDERS OF COL. J. J. ABERT, CHIEF OF THE TOPOGRAPHICAL BUREAU.

1845.

IN SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES,

March 3, 1845.

Resolved , That the Secretary of War be requested to communicate to the Senate, if it be pre-
pared, and if not, to the Secretary of the Senate during the recess, Brevet Captain Fremont’s
report of his late expedition to Oregon, in the years 1843-’44; and that there be printed for
the use of the Senate ten thousand extra copies of that report, together with the report of his
expedition to the Rocky mountains in 1842, which is hereby directed to be reprinted with the
report of the last expedition.

Attest :

ASBURY DICKINS,

Secretary of the Senate, t

NOTICE TO THE READER,

The Senate of the United Stales, and the House of Representatives
having each ordered ten thousand copies of the reports of the two ex-
ploring expeditions conducted by me, to be printed together, I have
deemed it regular and natural to place the report of 1842 first in the order
of publication, although heretofore printed ; it being first in the order of
time, and first in the progress of actual exploration. The two reports
naturally go together, the second being a continuation of the first, and the
two constituting parts of a whole, which will require a third expedition,
now commencing, to complete. The first terminated at the Rocky moun-
tains, and at the two points of greatest interest in that ridge — namely, the
South Pass, and Fremont’s Peak; the former being the lowest depression
of the mountains, through which the road to Oregon now passes, and the
latte* the highest elevation, from the base of which four great rivers take
their rise, and flow in opposite directions, toward the rising and the setting
sun. The second, after approaching the mountains by a different route,
connects with the first expedition at the South Pass, and thence finds the
great theatre of its labors west of the Rocky mountains, and between the
Oregon river and North California. The third expedition, now com-
mencing, will be directed to that section of the Rocky mountains which
gives rise to the Arkansas, the Rio Grande del Norte, and the Rio Colorado
of California ; and will extend west and southwest of that section, so as
to examine the country towards the Pacific ocean, ascertain the lines of
communication between the mountains and the ocean in that latitude, and
complete the examination of the Great Salt lake and of the interesting re-
gion which embosoms it.

The map which illustrated the report of 1842 is now extended to illus-
trate the entire expedition of 1843-’44, so that a view of both expeditions
will be presented together. This map may have a meager and skeleton
appearance to the general eye, but is expected to be more valuable to
science on that account, being wholly founded upon positive data and ac-
tual operations in the field. About ten thousand miles of actual travel-
ling and traversing in the wilderness which lies between the frontiers of
Missouri and the shores of the Pacific, almost every camping station being

4

the scene of astronomical or barometrical observations, furnish the mate-
rials out of which this map has been constructed. Nothing supposititious
has been admitted upon it; so that, connecting with Captain Wilkes’s sur-
vey of the mouth of the Columbia, and with the authentic surveys of the
State of Missouri, it fills up the vast geographical chasm between these
two remote points, and presents a connected and accurate view of our con-
tinent from the Mississippi river to the Pacific ocean.

To this geographical map, delineating the face of the country over
which we travelled, there is added another in profile, showing the eleva-
tions, or the rise and fall of the country from the Mississippi to the Pacific.
East of the Rocky mountains, two of these profile views are given — one
from St. Louis to the South Pass, the other from the mouth of the Great
Platte to the same point. The latter is the shortest ; and following, as it
does, the regular descent of the river, and being seven hundred miles west
of the Mississippi, it may be that the eastern terminus of this line may
furnish the point at which the steamboat and the steam car may hereafter
meet and exchange cargoes in their magic flight across this continent.
These profile views, following the travelling routes, of course follow the
lowest and levellest lines, and pass the mountain at the point of its great-
est depression ; but to complete the view, and to show the highest points
as well as the lowest levels, many lofty peaks are sketched at their proper
elevations, towering many thousands of feet above the travelling line.* It
may here be excusable to suggest that these profile maps here exhibited
are, perhaps, the most extended work of the kind ever constructed, being
from St. Louis (according to the route we travelled) near sixteen hundred
miles to the South Pass ; from the mouth of the Great Platte to the same
Pass, about one thousand more ; and then another sixteen hundred from
that Pass to the tide water of the Oregon ; in all, about four thousand
miles of profile mapping, founded upon nearly four hundred barometrical
positions, with views sketched and facts noted in the field as we went.

In the departments of geological and botanical science, 1 have not ven-
tured to advance any opinions on my own imperfect knowledge of those
branches, but have submitted all my specimens to the enlightened judg-
ment of Dr. Torrey, of New Jersey, and Dr. Hall, of New York, who have
kindly classified and arranged all that I was able to submit to them-
The botanical observations of Dr. Torrey will be furnished in full here-
after, there not being time to complete them now. The remarks of Dr.
Hall, on the geological specimens furnished to him, will be found in an
appendix to the report; and to his palaeontological skill I am indebted for
the discovery of an oolitic formation in the region west of the Rocky

5

mountains, which further examination may prove to assimilate the geOiOgy
of the New to that of the Old World in a rare particular, which had not
before been discovered in either of the two Americas. Unhappily, much
of what we had collected was lost by accidents of serious import to
ourselves, as well as to our animals and collections. In the gorges and
ridges of the Sierra Nevada, of the Alta California, we lost fourteen horses
and mules, falling from rocks or precipices into chasms or rivers, bottom-
less to us and to them, and one of them loaded with bales of plants col-
lected on a line of two thousand miles of travel; and, when almost home,
our camp on the banks of the Kansas was deluged by the great flood
which, lower down, spread terror and desolation on the borders of the
Missouri and Mississippi, and by which great damage was done to our
remaining perishable specimens, all wet and saturated with water, and
which we had no time to dry. Still, what is saved will be some respect-
able contribution to botanical science, thanks to the skill and care of Dr-
Torrey ; and both in geology and botany the maps will be of great value,
the profile view showing the elevations at which the specimens were
found, and the geographical map showing the localities from which they
come.

The astronomical observations, taken with good instruments, have been
tested, where they were most important, by a three-fold computation : one
by Professor Walker, of Philadelphia, whose astronomical reputation is so
great; another by Mr. Joseph C. Hubbard, a promising young mathema-
* tician from Connecticut ; the third by myself ; so that the correctness of
the longitudes and latitudes may well be relied upon.

In sketching the topographical features of the country, a branch of
science in which he had been professionally educated, Mr. Charles Preuss
had been my assistant in both expeditions; and to his extraordinary skill,
supported by the pleasure he felt in the execution of his duties, I am in-
debted for the continuous topographical sketches of the regions through
which we passed, and which were never interrupted by any extremity of
fatigue or privation.

The barometrical and meteorological observations were carefully made
with good instruments, and admit of no material error beyond the minute
deviations inseparable from such operations.

The third expedition, now commencing, is undertaken with more ample
means than the two former ; and, being directed to a region so interesting
in itself, and so new to science, can hardly fail to recjuite the enterprise
which explores it.

The report, or narrative, of this extended expedition, like the maps
which illustrate it, will be strictly confined to what was seen, and to what
is necessary to show the face and character of the country, and to add

something to science while fulfilling the instructions of the Government,
which chiefly contemplated a military topographical survey. A greater
degree of popular interest might have been imparted to it by admitting a
greater latitude of detail, but it was deemed best to adhere to the rigorous
character of a report , and to present nothing, either in the narrative or in
the maps, which was not the result of positive observation.

J. C. FREMONT,

j Brevet Captain Topographical Engineers .

Washington City, March , 1845.

A. REPORT

cn

AN EXPLORATION OF THE COUNTRY

Lying beYween the

MISSOURI RIVER AND THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS,

CN THt LINE or

THE KANSAS AND GREAT TLATTE RIVERS,

28th Congress,
2d Session ,

' [SENATE.]

[ H4 ]

REPORT

Washington, March 1, 1843,

To Colonel J. J. Abert,

Chief of the Corps of Topographical Engineers :

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

Bad weather, which interfered with astronomical observations, delayed
us several days in the early part of June at this post, which is on the right
bank of the Kansas river, about ten miles above the mouth, and six be-
yond the western boundary of Missouri. The sky cleared off at length,
and we were enabled to determine our position, in longitude 94° 25* 46",
and latitude 39° 5' 57". The elevation above the sea is about 700 feet.
Our camp, in the mean time, presented an animated and bustling scene.
All were busily occupied in completing . the necessary arrangements for
our campaign in the wilderness, and profiting by this short delay on the
verge of civilization, to provide ourselves with all the little essentials to
comfort in the nomadic life we were to lead for the ensuing summer
months. Gradually, however, every thing — the materiel of the camp, men,
horses, and even mules — settled into its place, and by the 10th we were
ready to depart ; but, before we mount our horses, I will give a short de-
scription of the party with which I performed this service.

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

Clement Lambert, J. B. L’Esperance, J. B. Lefevre, Benjamin Potra,
Louis Gouin, J. B. Dumes, Basil Lajeunessej Francois Tessier, Benjamin
Cadotte, Joseph Clement, Daniel Simonds, Leonard Benoit, Michel Morly,
Baptiste Bernier, Honore Ayot, Frangois Latulippe, Frangois Badeau,
Louis Menard, Joseph Ruell^ Moise Chardonnais, Auguste Janisse, Ra-
phael Proue.

10

t 174 ]

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

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

H

[ 1^4 ]

rain , we were all well soaked, and glad when morning came. We had a
rainy march on the 12th, but the weather grew fine as the day advanced.
We encamped in a remarkably beautiful situation on the Kansas bluffs,
which commanded a fine view of the river valley, here from three to four
miles wide. The central portion was occupied by a broad belt ot heavy
timber, and nearer the hills the prairies were of the richest verdure. One
of the oxen was killed here for food.

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

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

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

12

t 174 ]

On all sides was heard the strange language of his own people, wild,
and harmonizing well with their appearance. I listened to him for some
time with feelings of strange curiosity and interest. He was now appa-
rently^thirty-five years of age *, and, on inquiry, I learned that he had been
at St. Louis when a boy, and there had learned the French language.
From one of the Indian women 1 obtained a fine cow and calf in exchange
for a yoke of oxen. Several of them brought us vegetables, pumpkins,
onions, beans, and lettuce. One of them brought butter, and from a half-
breed near the river I had the good fortune to obtain some twenty or
thirty pounds of coffee. The dense timber in which we had encamped
interfered with astronomical observations, and our wet and damaged
stores required exposure to the sun. Accordingly, the tents were struck
early the next morning, and, leaving camp at six o’clock, we moved about
seven miles up the river, to a handsome, open prairie, some twenty feet
above the water, where the fine grass afforded a luxurious repast to our
horses.

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

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

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

The morning of the 18th was very unpleasant. A fine rain was falling,
with cold wind from the north, and mists made the river hills look dark
and gloomy. We left our camp at seven, journeying along the foot of the
hills which border the Kansas valley, generally about three miles wide,
and extremely rich. We halted for dinner, after a march of about thir-

13

[ 174 ]

teen miles, on the banks of on6 of the many little tributaries to the Kan-
sas, which look like trenches in the prairie, and are usually well timbered.
After crossing this stream, I rode off some miles to the left, attracted by
the appearance of a cluster of huts near the mouth of the Vermilliqn. It
was a large but deserted Kansas village, scattered in an open wood, along
the margin of the stream, on a spot chosen with the customary Indian
fondness for beauty of scenery. The Pawnees had attacked it in the early
spring. Some of the houses were burnt, and others blackened with smoke,
and weeds were already getting possession of the cleared places. Riding
up the Vermillion river, I reached the ford in time to meet the carts, and,
crossing, encamped on its western side. The weather continued cool, the
thermometer being this evening as low as 49°; but the night was sufficiently
clear for astronomical observations, which placed us in longitude 96° 04’
07", and latitude 39° 15' 19". At sunset, the barometer was at 28.845,
thermometer 64°.

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

The morning of the 20th was fine, with a southerly breeze and a bright
sky ; and at 7 o’clock we were on the march. The country to-day was
rather more broken, rising still, and covered every where with fragments
of siliceous limestone, particularly on the summits, where they were small
and thickly strewed as pebbles on the shore of the sea. In these exposed
situations grew but few plants; though, whenever the soil was good and
protected from the winds, in the creek bottoms and ravines, and on the
slopes, they flourished abundantly; among them the amorpha , still re-
taining its characteristic place. We crossed, at 10 a. m., the Big Vermillion
which has a rich bottom of about one mile in breadth, one-third of which
is occupied by timber. Making our usual halt at noon, after a day’s
march-of twenty four miles, we reached the Big Blue, and encamped on
the uplands of the western side, near a small creek, where was a fine
large spring of very cold water. This is a clear and handsome stream,
about one hundred and twenty feet wide, running, with a rapid current
through a well-timbered valley. To-day antelope were seen running
over the hills, and at evening Carson brought us a fine deer. Longitude
of the camp 96° 32' 35", latitude 39° 45' 08". Thermometer at sunset
75°. A pleasant southerly breeze and fine morning had given place to a
gale, with indications of bad weather; when, after a march of ten miles.

14

[ 174 ]

we halted to noon on a small creek, where the water stood in deep pools.
In the bank of the creek limestone made its appearance in a stratum about
one foot thick. In the afternoon, the people seemed to suffer for want of
water. The road led along a high dry ridge; dark lines of timber indicated
the heads of streams in the plains below ; but there was no water near,
and the day was very oppressive, with a hot wind, and the thermometer
at 90°. Along our route the ‘amorpha has been in very abundant but va-
riable bloom — in some places bending beneath the weight of purple clus-
ters ; in others without a flower. It seems to love best the sunny slopes,
with a dark soil and southern exposure. Every where the rose is met
with, and reminds us of cultivated gardens and civilization. It is scat-
tered over the prairies in small bouquets, and, when glittering in the dews
and waving in the pleasant breeze of the early morning, is the most beau-
tiful of the prairie flowers. The arternisia, absinthe, or prairie sage, as
it is variously called, “is increasing in size, and glitters like silver, as the
southern breeze turns up its leaves to the sun. All these plants have
their insect inhabitants, variously colored ; taking generally the hue of the
flower on which they live. The arternisia has its small fly accompany-
ing it through every change of elevation and latitude; and wherever I
have seen the asclepias tuberosa , I have always remarked, too, on the
dower a large butterfly, so nearly resembling it in color as to be distin-
guishable at a little distance only by the motion of its wings. Travelling
on the fresh traces of the Oregon emigrants relieves a little the loneliness
of the road ; and to-night, after a march of twenty-two miles, we halted
on a small creek, which had been one of their encampments. As we ad-
vance westward, the soil appears to be getting more sandy, and the sur-
face rock, an erratic deposite of sand and gravel, rests here on a bed of
coarse yellow and gray and very friable sandstone. Evening closed over
with rain and its usual attendant, hordes of musquitoes, with which we
were annoyed for the first time.

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

At the Big Trees, where we had intended to noon, no water was to be
found. The bed of the little creek was perfectly dry, and, on the adjacent
sandy bottom, cacti, for the first time, made their appearance. We made
here a short delay in search of water; and, after a hard day’s march of
twenty-eight miles, encamped, at 5 o’clock, on the Little Blue, where
our arrival made a scene of the Arabian desert. As fast as they arrived,

15

[ 174 ]

men and horses rushed into the stream, where they bathed and drank to-
gether in common enjoyment. We were now in the range of the Paw-
nees, who were accustomed to infest this- part of the country, stealing
horses from companies on their way to the mountains, and, when in suffi-
. cient force, openly attacking and plundering them, and subjecting them
to various kinds of insult. For the first time, therefore, guard was mount-
ed to-night. Our route the next morning lay up the valley, which, bor-
dered by hills with graceful slopes, looked uncommonly green and beam
tiful. The stream was about fifty feet wide, and three or four deep,
fringed by cotton wood and willow, with frequent groves of oak tenanted
by flocks of turkeys. Game here, too, made its appearance in greater
plenty. Elk were irequently seen on the hills, and now and then an an-
telope bounded across our path, or a deer broke from the groves. The
road in the afternoon was over the upper prairies, several miles from the
river, and we encamped at sunset on one of its small tributaries, where
an abundance of prele ( equisetum ) afforded fine forage to our tired ani-
mals. We had travelled thirty-one miles. A heavy bank of black clouds
in the west came on us in a storm between nine and ten, preceded by a
violent wind. The rain fell in such torrents that it was difficult to breathe
facing the wind, the thunder rolled incessantly, and the whole sky was
tremulous with lightning; now and then illuminated by a blinding flash,
succeeded by pitchy darkness. Carson had the watch from ten to mid-
night, and to him had been assigned our young compagnons de voyage ,
Messrs. Brant and R. Benton. This was their first night on guard, and
such an introduction did not augur very auspiciously of the pleasures of
the expedition. Many things conspired to render their situation uncom-
fortable ; stories of desperate and bloody Indian fights were rife in the
camp ; our position was badly chosen, surrounded on all sides by timbered
hollows, and occupying an area of several hundred feet, so that necessa-
rily the guards were far apart; and now and then I could hear Randolph,
as if relieved by the sound of a voice in the darkness, calling out to the
sergeant of the guard, to direct his attention to some imaginary alarm ;
but they stood it out, and took their turn regularly afterward.

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

Mounted on a fine horse, without a saddle, and scouring bareheaded
over the prairies, Kit was one of the finest pictures of a horseman I have
ever seen. A short time enabled him to discover that the Indian war
party of twenty-seven consisted of six elk, who had been gazing curiously
at our caravan as it passed by, and were now scampering off at full speed.
This was our first alarm, and its excitement broke agreeably on the mo-
notony of the day. At our noon halt, the men were exercised at a target ;
and in the evening we pitched our tents at a Pawnee encampment of last

16

[ m ]

July. They had apparently killed buffalo here, as many bones were
lying about, and the frames where the hides had been stretched were yet
standing. The road of the day had kept the valley, which is sometimes
rich and well timbered, though the country is generally sandy. Mingled •
with the usual plants, a thistle ( cardans leucographus) had for the last #
day or two made its appearance ; and along the river bottom, tradescantia
(virginica) and milk plant {asclepias syriaca*) in considerable quantities.

Our march to-day had been twenty-one miles, and the astronomical ob-
servations gave us a chronometric longitude of 9S° 22' 12", and latitude
40° 26' 50". We were moving forward at seven in the morning, and in
about five miles reached a fork of the Blue, where the road leaves that
river, and crosses over to the Platte. No water was to be found on the
dividing ridge, and the casks were filled, and the animals here allowed a
short repose. The road led across a high and level prairie ridge, where
were but few plants, and those principally thistle [car daus leucographus ,)
and a kind of dwarf artemisia. Antelope were seen frequently during
the morning, which was very stormy. Squalls of rain, with thunder and
lightning, were around us in every direction ; and while we were envel-
oped in one of them, a flash, which seemed to scorch our eyes as it
passed, struck in the prairie within a few hundred feet, sending up a
column of dust.

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

* “ This plant is very odoriferous, and in Canada charms the traveller, especially when passing
through woods in the evening. The F rench there eat the tender shoots in the spring, as we do
asparagus. The natives make a sugar of the flowers, gathering them in the morning when they are
covered with dew, and collect the cotton from the pods to fill their beds. On account of the silki-
ness of this cotton, Parkinson calls the plant Virginian silk.” — Loudon's Encyclopedia of Plants.

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

17

[ 174 ]

June 27. — The animals were somewhat fatigued by their march of yes-
terday, arid, after a short journey of eighteen miles along the river bottom,

I encamped near the head of Grand island, in longitude, by observation,
99° 05' 24", latitude 40° 39' 32". The soil here was light but rich, though
in some places rather sandy ; and, with the exception of a scattered fringe
along the bank, the timber, consisting principally of poplar, (populus mo -
nilifera ,) elm, and hackberry, ( celtis crassifoliu ,) is confined almost en-
tirely to the islands.

June 28. — We halted to noon at an open reach of the river, which oc-
cupies rather more than a fourth of the valley, here only about four miles
broad. The camp had been disposed with the usual precaution, the
horses grazing at a little distance, attended by the guard, and we were ail
sitting quietly at our dinner on the grass, when suddenly we heard the
startling cry “ du rnonde /” In an instant, every man’s weapon was in
his hand, the horses were driven in, hobbled and picketed, and horsemen
were galloping at full speed in the direction of the new comers, screaming
and yelling with the wildest excitement. “Get ready, my lads!” said
the leader of the approaching party to his men, when our wild-looking
horsemen were discovered bearing down upon them ; “nous allons attraper
des coups dt baguette.” They proved to be a small party of fourteen,
under the charge of a man named John Lee, and, with their baggage and
provisions strapped to their backs, were making their way on foot to the
frontier. A brief account of their fortunes will give some idea of naviga-
tion in the Nebraska. Sixty days since, they had left the mouth of Lar-
amie’s fork, some three hundred miles above, in barges laden with the
furs of the American Fur Company. They started with the annual flood,
and, drawing but nine inches water, hoped to make a speedy and pros-
perous voyage to St. Louis ; but, after a lapse of forty days, found them-
selves only one hundred and thirty miles from their point of departure.
They came down rapidly as far as Scott’s bluffs, where their difficulties
began. Sometimes they came upon places where the water was spread
over a great extent, and here they toiled from morning until night, en-
deavoring to drag their boat through the sands, making only two or three
miles in as many days. Sometimes they would enter an arm of the river,
where there appeared a fine channel, and, after descending prosperously
for eight or ten miles, would come suddenly upon dry sands, and be com-
pelled to return, dragging their boat for days against the rapid current •
and at otners, they came upon places where the water lay in holes, and,
getting out to float oft* their boat, would fall into water up to their necks,
and the next moment tumble over against a sandbar. Discouraged, at
length, and finding the Platte growing every day more shallow, they dis-
charged the principal part of their cargoes one hundred and thirty miles
below Fort Laramie, which they secured as well a% possible, and, leaving
a few men to guard them, attempted to continue their voyage, laden with
some light furs and their personal baggage. After fifteen or twenty days
more struggling in the sands, during which they made but one hundred
and forty miles, they sunk their barges, made a cache of their remaining
furs and property, in trees on the bank, and, packing on his back what
each man could carry, had commenced, the day before we encountered
them, their journey on foot to St. Louis.

We laughed then at their forlorn and vagabond appearance, and, in our
turn, a month or two afterwards, furnished the same occasion for merri-
2

18

r 174 ]

ment to others. Even thoir stock of tobacco, that sine qua non of a voy-~
ageur, without which the night fire is gloomy, was entirely exhausted.
However, we shortened their homeward journey by a small supply from
our own provision. They gave us the welcome intelligence that the buf-
falo were abundant some two days’ march in advance, and made us a
present of some choice pieces, which were a very acceptable change from
our salt pork. In the interchange of news, and the renewal of old ac-
quaintanceships, we found wherewithal to fill a busy hour ; then we
mounted our horses, and they shouldered their packs, and we shook hands
and parted. Among them, I had found. ^n old companion on the northern
prairie, a hardened and hardly served veteran of the mountains, who had
been as much hacked and scarred as an old moustache of Napoleon’s “old
guard.” He flourished in the sobriquet of La Tulipe, and his real name
I never knew. Finding that he was going to the States only because
his company was bound in that direction, and that he was rather more
willing to return with me, I took him again into my service. We trav-
elled this day but seventeen miles.

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

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

The air was keen the next morning at sunrise, the thermometer stand-
ing at 44°, and it was sufficiently cold to make overcoats very comfortable.
A few miles brought us into the midst of the buffalo, swarming in im-
mense numbers over the plains, where they had left scarcely a blade of

19

[ 174 ]

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

July 1. — Along our road to-day the prairie bottom was more elevated
and dry, and the hills which border the right side of the river higher, and
more broken and picturesque in the outline. The country, too, was bet-
ter timbered. As we were riding quietly along the bank, a grand herd of
buffalo, some seven or eight hundred in number, came crowding up from
the river, where they had been to drink, and commenced crossing the
plain slowly, eating as they went. The wind was favorable ; the coolness
of the morning invited to exercise; the ground was apparently good, and
the distance across the prairie (two or three miles) gave us a fine opportu-
nity to charge them before they could get among the river hills. It was
too^fine a prospect for a chase to be lost ; and, halting for a few moments,
the hunters were brought up and saddled, and Kit Carson, Maxwell, and
I, started together. They were now somewhat less than half a mile dis-
tant, and we rode easily along unjtil within about three hundred yards,
when a sudden agitation, a wavering in the band, and a galloping to and
fro of some which were scattered along the skirts, gave us the intimation

20

C 174 ]

that we were discovered. We started together at a hand gallop, riding
steadily abreast of each other, and here the interest of the chase became
so engrossingly intense, that we were sensible to nothing else. We were
now closing upon them rapidly, and the front of the mass was already
in rapid motion for the hills, and in a few seconds the movement had
communicated itself to the whole herd.

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

My horse was a trained hunter, famous in the west under the name of
Proveau, and, with his eyes flashing, and the foam flying from his mouth,
sprang on after the cow like a tiger. In a few moments he brought me
alongside of her, and, rising in the stirrups, I fired at the distance of a
yard, the ball entering at the termination of the long hair, and passing
near the heart. She fell headlong at the report of the gun, and, checking
my horse, I looked around for my companions. At a little distance, Kit
was on the ground, engaged in tying his horse to the horns of a cow
which he was preparing to cut up. Among the scattered bands, at some
distance below, I caught a glimpse of Maxwell ; and while I was looking,
a light wreath of white smoke curled away from his gun, from which I was
too far to hear the report. Nearer, and between me and the hills, towards
which they were directing their course, was the body of the herd, and,
giving my horse the rein, we dashed after them. A thick cloud of dust
hung upon their rear, which filled my mouth and eyes, and nearly smoth-
ered me. In the midst of this I could see nothing, and the buffalo were
not distinguishable until within thirty feet. They crowded together more
densely still as I came upon them, and rushed along in such a compact
body, that I could not obtain an entrance — the horse almost leaping upon
them. In a few moments the mass divided to the right and left, the horns
clattering with a noise heard above every thing else, and my horse darted
into the opening. Five or six bulls charged on us as we dashed along
the line, but were left far behind ; and, singling out a cow, I gave her my
fire, but struck too high. She gave a tremendous leap, and scoured on
swifter than before. I reined up my horse, and the band swept on like a
torrent, and left the place quiet and clear. Our chase had led us into
dangerous ground. A prairie-dog village, so thickly settled that there
were three or four holes in every twenty yards square, occupied the whole
bottom for nearly two miles in length. Looking around, I saw only one
of the hunters, nearly out of sight, and the long dark line of our caravan
crawling along, three or four miles distant. After a march of twenty-four
miles, we encamped at nightfall, one mile and a half above the lower end
of Brady’s island. The breadth of this arm of the river was eight hun

21

[ 174 ]

dred and eighty yards, and the water nowhere two feet in depth. The
island bears the name of a man killed on this spot some years ago. His
party had encamped here, three in company, and one of the number went
off to hunt, leaving Brady and his companion together. These two had
frequently quarrelled, and on the hunter’s return he found Brady dead,
and was told that he had shot himself accidentally. He was buried here
on the bank; but, as usual, the wolves had torn him out, and some human
bones that were lying on the ground we supposed were his: Troops of

wolv.es, that were hanging on the skirts of the buffalo, kept up an uninter-
rupted howling during the night, venturing almost into camp. In the
morning, they were sitting at a short distance, barking, and impatiently
waiting our departure, to fall upon the bones.

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

The northern channel, two thousand two hundred and fifty feet wide,
was somewhat deeper, having frequently three feet water in the numer-
ous small channels, with a bed of coarse gravel. The whole breadth of
the Nebraska, immediately below the junction, is five thousand three hun-
dred and fifty feet. All our fequipage had reached theleft bank safely at 6
o’clock, having to-day mEfde twenty miles. We encampted at the point
of land immediately at the junction of the North and South forks. Be-
tween the streams is a low rich prairie, extending from their confluence
eighteen miles westwardly to the bordering hills, where it is five and a
half miles wide. It is covered with a luxuriant growth of grass, and
along the banks is a slight and scattered fringe of cottonwood and willow.
In the buffalo trails and wallows, I remarked saline efflorescences, to
which a rapid evaporation in the great heat of the sun probably contrib-
utes, as the soil is entirely unprotected by timber. In the vicinity of these
places there was a bluish grass, which the cattle refuse to eat, called by
the voyageurs “ herbe salee /’ (salt grass.) The latitude of the junction is
41° 04' 47", and longitude, by chronometer and lunar distances, 100° 49'43".
The elevation above the sea is about two thousand seven hundred feet. The
hunters came in with a fat cow; and, as we had labored hard, we enjoyed

22

[ 174 ]

well a supper of roasted ribs and boudins , the chef d’ oeuvre of a prairie
cook. Mosquitoes thronged about us this evening; but, by 10 o’clock,
when the thermometer had fallen to 47°, they had all disappeared.

July 3. — As this was to be a point in our homeward journey, I made a
cache (a term used in all this country for what- is hidden in the ground) of
a barrel of pork. It was impossible to conceal such a proceeding from the
sharp eyes of our Cheyenne companions, and I therefore told them to go
and see what it was they were burying. They would otherwise have
not failed to return and destroy our cache , in expectation of some rich
booty; but pork they dislike, and never eat. We left our camp at 9, con-
tinuing up the South fork, the prairie bottom affording us a fair road ; but
in the long grass we roused myriads of mosquitoes and flies, from which
our horses suffered severely. The day was smoky, with a pleasant breeze
from the south, and the plains on the opposite side were covered with buf-
falo. Having travelled twenty-five miles, we encamped at 6 in the even-
ing; and the men were sent across the river for wood, as there is none
here on the left bank. Our fires were partially made of the bow de vache,
the dry excrement of the buffalo, which, like that of the camel in the Ara-
bian deserts, furnishes to the traveller a very good substitute for wood,
burning like turf. Wolves in great numbers surrounded us during the
night, crossing and recrossing from the opposite herds to our camp, and
howling and trotting about in the river until morning.

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

23

[ 174 J

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

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

Our encampment was within a few miles of the place where the road
crosses to the North fork, and various reasons led me to divide my party
at this point. The North fork was the principal object of my survey; but
I was desirous to ascend the South branch, with a view of obtaining some
astronomical positions, and determining the mouths of its tributaries as
far as St. Vrain’s fort, estimated to be some two hundred miles further up
the river, and near to Long’s peak. There 1 hoped to obtain some mules,
which I found would be necessary to relieve my horses. In a military
point of view, I was desirous to form some opinion of the country relative
to the establishment of posts on a line connecting the settlements with
the South pass of the Rocky mountains, by way of the Arkansas and the
South and Laramie forks of the Platte. Crossing the country northwest-
wardly from St. Vrain’s fort, to the American company’s fort at the mouth
of Laramie* would give me some acquaintance with the affluents which
head in the mountains between the two ; I therefore determined to set out
the next morning, accompanied by Mr. Preuss and four men, Maxwell,
Bernier, Ayot, and Basil Lajeunesse. Our Cheyennes, whose village lay
up this river, also decided to accompany us. The party I left in charge
of Clement Lambert, with orders to cross to the North fork; and at some
convenient place, near to the Coulee des Frenes , make a cache of every
• thing not absolutely necessary to the further progress of our expedition.
From this point, using the most guarded precaution in his march through

[ 174 ]

24

the country, he was to proceed to the American company’s fort at the
mouth of Laramie’s fork, and await my arrival, which would be prior to
the 16th, as on that and the following night would occur some occultations
which I was desirous to obtain at that place.

July 5. — Before breakfast, all was ready. *We had one led horse in ad-
dition to those we rode, and a pack mule, destined to carry our instruments,
provisions, and baggage ; the last two articles not being of very great
weight. The instruments consisted of a sextant, artificial horizon, & c., a
barometer, spy glass, and compass. The chronometer I of course kept on
my person. 1 had ordered the cook to put up for us some flour, coffee, and
sugar, and our rifles were to furnish the rest. One blanket, in addition to
his saddle and saddle blanket, furnished the materials for each man’s bed,
and every one was provided with a change of linen. All were armed
with rifles or double barrelled guns; and, in addition to these, Maxwell
and myself were furnished with excellent pistols. Thus accoutred, we
took a parting breakfast with our friends, and set forth.

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

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

We continued our journey, seven in number, including the three Chey-
ennes. Our general course was southwest, up the valley of the river,
which was sandy, bordered on the northern side of the valley by a low
ridge ; and on the south, after seven or eight miles, the river hills became
higher. Six miles from our resting place we crossed the bed of a consid-
erable stream, now entirely dry — a bed of sand. In a grove of willows,
near the mouth, were the remains of a considerable fort, constructed of
trunks of large trees. It was apparently very old, and had probably been
the scene of some hostile encounter among the roving tribes. Its soli-
tude formed an impressive contrast to the picture which our imaginations
involuntarily drew of the busy scene which had been enacted here. The
timber appeared to have been much more extensive formerly than now.
There were but few trees, a kind of long-leaved willow, standing ; and

25

[ 174 ]

numerous trunks of large trees were scattered about on the ground. In
many similar places I had occasion to remark an apparent progressive de-
cay in the timber. Ten miles farther we reached the mouth of Lodge
Pole creek, a clear and handsome stream, running through a broad valley.
In its course through the bottom it has a uniform breadth of twenty-two
feet, and six inches in depth. A few willows on the banks strike pleas-
antly on the eye, by their greenness, in the midst of the hot and barren
sands.

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

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

July 7. — At our camp this morning, at 6 o’clock, the barometer was at
26.183, thermometer 69°, and clear, with a light wind from the southwest.
The past night had been squally, with high winds, and occasionally a few
drops of rain. Our cooking did not occupy much time, and we left camp
early. Nothing of interest occurred during the morning. The same
dreary barrenness, except that a .hard marly clay had replaced the sandy
soil. Buffalo absolutely covered the plain on both sides the river, and
whenever we ascended the hills, scattered herds gave life to the view

26

L 174 ]

in every direction. A small drove of wild horses made their appearance on
the low river bottoms, a mile or two to the left, and 1 sent off one of the In-
dians (who seemed very eager to catch one) on my led horse, a spirited and
fleet animal. The savage manoeuvred a little to get the wind of the horses,
in which he succeeded — approaching within g. hundred yards without be-
ing discovered. The chase for a few minutes was animated and interest-
ing. My hunter easily overtook and passed the hindmost of the wild drove,
which the Indian did not attempt to lasso ; all his efforts being directed to
the capture of the leader. But the strength of the horse, weakened by the
insufficient nourishment of grass, failed in a race, and all the drove escaped.
We halted at noon on the bank of the river, the barometer at that time be-
ing 26.192, and the thermometer 103°, with a light air from the south, and
clear weather.

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

The sun was getting low, and some narrow lines of timber four or five
miles distant promised us a pleasant camp, where, with plenty of wood
for fire, and comfortable shelter, and rich grass for our animals, we should
find clear cool springs, instead of the warm water of the Platte. On our
arrival, we found the bed of a stream fifty to one hundred feet wide, sunk
some thirty feet below the level of tile prairie, with perpendicular banks,
bordered by a fringe of green cottonwood, but not a drop of water. There
were several small forks to the stream, all in the same condition. With
the exception of the Platte bottom, the country seemed to be of a clay form-
ation, dry, and perfectly devoid of any moisture, and baked hard by the
sun. Turning off towards the river, we .reached the bank imabout a mile,
and were delighted to find an old tree, with thick foliage and spreading
branches, where we encamped. At sunset, the barometer was at 25.950,

27

[ 174 ]

thermometer 81°, with a strong wind from S. 20° E;, and the sky partially
covered with heavy masses of cloud, which settled a little towards the
horizon by 10 o’clock, leaving it sufficiently clear for astronomical ob-
servations, which placed us in latitude 40° 33' 26", and longitude 103°
30' 37". ,

July S. — The morning was very pleasant. The breeze was fresh from
S. 50° E. with few clouds; the barometer at 6 o’clock standing at 25.970,
and the thermometer at 70°. Since leaving the forks, our route had passed
over a country alternately clay and sand, each presenting the same naked
waste. On leaving camp this morning, we struck again a sandy region,
in which the vegetation appeared somewhat more vigorous than that
which we had observed for the last few days; and on the opposite side of
the river were some tolerably large groves of timber.

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

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

I am inclined to think that in a few seconds more the leading man,
and perhaps some of his companions, would have rolled in the dust; for
we had jerked the covers from our guns, and our fingers were on the

28

[ 174 ]

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

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

The wind was blowing directly across the river, and the chief requested
us to halt where we were for a while, in order to avoid raising the herd.
We therefore unsaddled our horses, and sat down on the bank to view
the scene; and our new acquaintances rode a few hundred yards lower
down, and began crossing the river. Scores of wild-looking dogs followed,
looking like troops of wolves, and having, in fact, but very little of the
dog in their composition. Some of them remained with us, and I checked
one of the men, whom I found aiming at one, which he was about to kill
for a wolf. The day had become very hot. The air was clear, with a
very slight breeze; agd now, at 12 o’clock, while the barometer stood at
25.920, the attached thermometer was at 108°. Our Cheyennes had
learned that with the Arapaho village were about twenty lodges of their
own, including their own families ; they therefore immediately com-
menced making their toilette. After bathing in the river, they invested
themselves in some handsome calico shirts, which I afterward learned
they had stolen from my own men, and spent some time in arranging
their hair and painting themselves with some vermilion 1 had given
them. While they were engaged in this satisfactory manner, one of their
half-wild horses, to which the crowd of prancing animals which had just
passed had recalled the freedom of her existence among the wild droves
on the prairie, suddenly dashed into the hills at the top of her speed.
She was their pack horse, and had on her back all the worldly wealth of
our poor Cheyennes, all their accoutrements, and all the little articles
which they had picked up among us, with some few presents I had given
them. The loss which they seemed to regret most were their spears and
shields, and some tobacco which they had received from me. However,
they bore it all with the philosophy of an Indian, and laughingly con-
tinued their toilette. They appeared, however, a little mortified at the
thought of returning to the village in such a sorry plight. Our people

29

[ 1^4 ]

will laugh at us,” said one of them, “ returning to the village on foot, in-
stead of driving back a drove of Pawnee horses.” He demanded to know
if I loved my sorrel hunter very much ; to which I replied, he was the
object of my most intense affection. Far from being able to give, I was
myself in want of horses ; and any suggestion of parting with the few I
had valuable, was met with a peremptory refusal. In the mean time, the
slaughter was about to commence on the other side. So soon as they
reached it, the Indians separated into two bodies. One party proceeded
directly across the prairie, toward the hills, in an extended line, while the
other went up the river ; and instantly as they had given the wind to the
herd, the chase commenced. The buffalo started for the hills, but were
intercepted and driven back toward the river, broken and running in every
direction. The clouds of dust soon covered the whole scen^e, preventing
us from having any but an occasional view. It had a very singular ap-
pearance to us at a distance, especially when looking with the glass. We
were too far to hear the report of the guns, or any sound ; and at every
instant, through the clouds of dust which the sun made luminous, we
could see for a moment two or three buffalo dashing along, and close be-
hind them an Indian with his long spear, or other weapon, and instantly
again they disappeared. The apparent silence, and the dimly seen figures
flitting by with such rapidity, gave it a kind of dreamy effect, and seemed
more like a picture than a scene ‘of real life. It had been a large herd
when the cerne commenced, probably three or four hundred in number ;
but, though I watched them closely, I did not see one emerge from the
fatal cloud where#the work of destruction was going on. After remain-
ing here about an hour, we resumed our journey in the direction of the
village.

Gradually, as we rode on, Indian after Indian came dropping along,
laden with meat ; and by the time we had neared the lodges, the back-
ward road was covered with the returning horsemen. It was a pleasant
contrast with the desert road we had been travelling. Several had joined
company with us, and one of the chiefs invited us to his lodge. The vil-
lage consisted of about one hundred and twenty-five lodges, of which
twenty were Cheyennes; the latter pitched a little apart from the Arapa-
hoes. They were disposed in a scattering manner on both sides of a
broad irregular street, about one hundred and fifty feet wide, and running
along the river. As we rode along, I remarked near some of the lodges a
kind of tripod frame, formed of three slender poles of birch, scraped very
clean, to which were affixed the shield and spear, with some other weap-
ons of a chief. All were scrupulously clean, the spear head was burnish-
ed bright, and the shield white and stainless. It reminded me of the
days of feudal chivalry ; and when, as I rode by, I yielded to the passing
impulse, and touched one of the spotless shields with the muzzle of my
gun, I almost expected a grim warrior to start from the lodge and resent
my challenge. The master of the lodge spread out a robe for me to sit
upon, and the squaws set before us a large wooden dish of bnffalo meat.
He had lit his pipe in the mean while, and when it had been passed
around, we commenced our dinner while he continued to smoke. Grad-
ually, five or six other chiefs came in, and took their seats in silence.
When we had finished, our host asked a number of questions relative to
the object of our journey, of which I made no concealment; telling him
simply that I had made a visit to see the country, preparatory to the es-

30

[ 174 ]

tablishment of military posts on the way to the mountains. Although
this was information of the highest interest to them, and by no means
calculated to please them, it excited no expression of surprise, and in no
way altered the grave courtesy of their demeanor. The others listened
and smoked. I remarked, that in taking the pipe for the first time, each
had turned the stem upward, with a rapid glance, as in offering to the
Great Spirit, before he put it in his mouth. A storm had been gathering
for the past hour, and some pattering drops on the lodge warned us that
we had some miles to our camp. Some Indian had given Maxwell a
bundle of dried meat, which was very acceptable, as we had nothing; and,
springing upon our horses, we rode off at dusk in the face of a cold
shower and driving wind. We found our companions under some densely
foliaged old trees, about three miles up the river. Under one of them lay
the trunk of a large cottonwood, to leeward of which the men had kin-
dled a fire, and we sat here and roasted our meat in tolerable shelter.
Nearly opposite was the mouth of one of the most considerable affluents
of the South fork, la Fourche aux Castors , (Beaver fork,) heading off in
the ridge to the southeast.

July 9. — This morning we caught the first faint glimpse of the Rocky
mountains, about sixty miles distant. Though a tolerably bright day,
there was a slight mist, and we were just able to discern the snowy sum-
mit of “ Long’s peak,” (“ les deux oreilles” of the Canadians,) showing
like a small cloud near the horizon. I found it easily distinguishable,
there being a perceptible difference in its appearance from the white
clouds that were floating about the sky. I was pleased to find that
among the traders and voyageurs the name of “ Long’s peak** had been
adopted and become familiar in the country. In the ravines near this
place, a light brown sandstone made its first appearance. About 8, we
discerned several persons on horseback a mile or two ahead, on the oppo-
site side of the river. They turned in towards the river, and we rode
down to meet them. We found them to be two white men, and a mu-
latto named Jim Beckwith, who had left St. Louis when a boy, and gone
to live with the Crow Indians. He had distinguished himself among
them by some acts of daring bravery, and had risen to the rank of a chief,
but had now, for some years, left them. They were in search of a band of
horses that had gone off from a camp some miles above, in charge of Mr.
Chabonard. Two of them continued down the river, in search of the
horses, and the American turned back with us, and we rode on towards
the camp. About eight miles from our sleeping place we reached Bijou’s
fork, an affluent of the right bank. Where we crossed it, a short distance
from the Platte, it has a sandy bed about four hundred yards broad ; the
water in various small streams, a few inches deep. Seven miles further
brought us to a camp of some four or five whites, (New Englanders, I be-
lieve,) who had accompanied Captain Wyeth to the Columbia river, and
were independent trappers. All had their squaws with them, and I was
really surprised at the number of little fat buffalo-fed boys that were tum-
bling about the camp, all apparently of the same age, about three or four
years old. They were encamped on a rich bottom, covered with a pro-
fusion of fine grass, and had a large number of fine-looking horses and
mules. We rested with them a few minutes, and in about two miles ar-
rived at Chabonard’s camp, on an island in the Platte. On the heights
above, we met the first Spaniard I had seen in the country. Mr. Chabo-

31

[ 174 ] .

nard was in the service of Bent and St. Vrain’s company, and had left
their fort some forty or fifty miles above, in the spring, with boats laden
with the furs of the last year’s trade.- He had met the same fortune as
the voyageurs on the North fork, and, finding it impossible to proceed, had
taken up his summer’s residence on this island, which he had named St.
Helena. The river hills appeared to be composed entirely of sand, and
the Platte had lost the muddy character of its waters, and here was toler-
ably clear. From the mouth of the South fork, I had found it Occasion-
ally broken up by small islands; and at the time of our journey, which
was at a season of the year when the waters were at a favorable stage, it
was not navigable for any thing drawing six inches water. The current
was very swift — the bed of the stream a coarse gravel.

From the place at which we had encountered the Arapahoes, the Piatte
had been tolerably well fringed with timber, and the island here had a
fine grove of very large cottonwoods, under whose broad shade the tents
were pitched. There was a large drove of horses in the opposite prairie
bottom; smoke was rising from the scattered fires, and the encampment
had quite a patriarchal air. Mr. C. received us hospitably. One of the
people was sent to gather mint, with the aid of which he concocted very
good julep; and some boiled buffalo tongue, and coffee with the luxury
of sugar, were soon set before us. The people in his employ were gene-
rally Spaniards, and among them I saw a young Spanish woman from
Taos, whom I found to be Beckwith’s wife.

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

I regretted that time did not permit me to visit them ; but the proper
object of my survey lay among the mountains further north ; and I looked
forward to an exploration of their snowy recesses with great pleasure.

32

C 174 ]

The piney region of the mountains to the south was enveloped in smoke,
and I wafc informed had been on fire for several months. Pike’s peak is
said to be visible from this place, about one hundred miles to the south-
ward ; but the smoky state of the atmosphere prevented my seeing it.
The weather continued Qvercast during my stay here, so that I failed in
determining the latitude, but obtained good observations for time on the
mornings of the 11th and 12th. An assumed latitude of 40° 22' 30" from
the evening position of the 12th, enabled me to obtain, for a tolerably cor-
rect longitude, 105° 12' 12".

July 12. — The kindness of Mr. St. Vrain had enabled me to obtain a
couple of horses and three good mules ; and, with a further addition to our
party of the Spaniard whom I had hired, and two others, who were
going to obtain service at Laramie’s fork, we resumed our journey at 10,
on the morning of the 12th. We had been able to procure nothing at the
post, in the way of provision. An expected supply from Taos had not yet
arrived, and a few pounds of coffee was all that could be spared to us. In
addition to this, we had dried meat enough for the first day ; on the next,
we expected to find buffalo. From this post, according to the estimate of
the country, the fort at the mouth of Laramie’s fork, which was our next
point of destination, was nearly due north, distant about one hundred and
twenty -five miles.

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

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

July 13. — There being no wood here, we used last night the hois de

33

[ 1^4 ]

vache, which is very plentiful. At our camp this morning, the barometer
was at 25.2 35 ; the attached thermometer 60°. A few clouds were moving
through a deep-blue sky, with a light wind from the west. After a ride
of twelve miles, in a northerly direction, over a plain covered with innu-
merable quantities of cacti , we reached a small creek in which there was
water, and where several herds of buffalo were scattered about among the
ravines, which always afford good pasturage. We seem now to be pass-
ing along the base of a plateau of the Black hills, in which the formation
consists of marls, some of them white and laminated ; the country to the
left rising suddenly, and falling off gradually and uniformly to the right.
In five or six miles of a northeasterly course, we struck a high ridge,
broken into conical peaks, on whose summits large boulders were gathered
in heaps. The magnetic direction of the ridge is northwest and south-
east, the glittering white of its precipitous sides making it visible for many
miles to the south. It is composed of a soft earthy limestone and marls,
resembling that, hereafter described, in the neighborhood of the Chimney
rock, on the North fork of the Platte, easily worked by the winds and
rains, and sometimes moulded into very fantastic shapes. At the foot of
the northern slope was the bed of a creek, some forty feet wide, coming,
by frequent falls, from the bench above. It was shut in by high perpen-
dicular banks, in which were strata of white laminated marl. Its bed
was perfectly dry, and the leading feature of the whole region is one
of remarkable aridity, and perfect freedom from moisture. In about
six miles we crossed the bed of another dry creek ; and, continuing our
ride over a high level prairie, a little before sundown we came suddenly
upon a beautiful creek, which revived us with a feeling of delighted sur-
prise by the pleasant contrast of the deep verdure of its banks with the
parched desert we had passed. We had suffered much to-day, both men
and horses, for want of water ; having met with it but once in our unin-
terrupted march of forty miles, and an exclusive meat diet creates much
thirst.

“ Las bestias tienen mucha hambre” said the young Spaniard, inquir-
ingly ; “ y la genie tambien ,” said I, “ amigo , we’ll camp here.” A stream
of good and clear water ran winding about through the little valley, and a
herd of buffalo were quietly feeding a little distance below. It was quite
a hunter’s paradise ; and while some ran down toward the band to kill one
for supper, others collected bois de vache for a fire, there being no wood ;
and I amused myself with hunting for plants among the grass.

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

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

3

34

[ 174 ]

July 14, — The wind continued fresh from the same quarter in the morn-
ing ; the day being cleat, with the exception of a few clouds in the hori-
zon. At our camp at 6 o’clock, the height of the barometer was 24.830,
the attached thermometer 61°. Our course this morning was directly
north by compass, the variation being 15° or 16° easterly. A ride of four
miles brought us to Lodge Pole creek, which we had seen at its mouth
on the South fork ; crossing on the way two dry streams, in eighteen miles
from our encampment of the past night, we reached a high bleak ridge,
composed entirely of the same earthy limestone and marl previously de-
scribed. I had never seen any thing which impressed so strongly on my
mind a feeling of desolation. The valley, through which ran the waters
of Horse creek, lay in view to the north, but too far to have any influence
on the immediate view. On the peak of the ridge where I was standing,
some six or seven hundred feet above the river, the wind was high and
bleak; the barren and arid country seemed as if it had been swept by
fires, and in every direction the same dull ash-colored hue, derived from
the formation, met the eye. On the summits were some stunted pines,
many of them dead, all wearing the same ashen hue of desolation. We
left the place with pleasure ; and, after we had descended several hundred
-feet, halted in one of the ravines, which, at the distance of every mile or
two, cut the flanks of the ridge with little rushing streams, wearing some-
thing of a mountain character. We had already begun to exchange the
comparatively barren lands for those of a more fertile character. Though
the sandstone formed the broken banks of the creek, yet they were cov-
ered with a thin grass ; and the fifty or sixty feet which formed the bottom
land of the little stream were clothed with very luxuriant grass, among
which I remarked willow and cherry, ( cerasus virginiana ;) and a quan-
tity of gooseberry and currant bushes occupied the greater part.

The creek was three or four feet l>road, and about six inches deep, with
a swift current of clear water, and tolerably cool. We had struck it too
low down to find the cold water, which we should have enjoyed nearer
to its sources. At 2, p. m., the barometer was at 25.050, the attached
thermometer 104°. A day of hot sunshine, with clouds, and a moderate
breeze from the south. Continuing down the stream, in about four miles
we reached its mouth, at one of the main branches of Horse creek. Looking
back upon the ridge, whose direction appeared to be a little to the north of
east, we saw it seamed at frequent intervals with the dark lines of wooded
streams, affluents of the river that flowed so far as we could see along its
base. We crossed, in the space of twelve miles from our noon halt, three
or four forks of Horse creek, and encamped at sunset on the most easterly.

The fork on which we encamped appeared to have followed an easterly
direction up to this place ; but here it makes a very sudden bend to the
north, passing between two ranges of precipitous hills, called, as I was in-
formed, Goshen’s hole. There is somewhere in or near this locality a
place so called, but I am not certain thkt it was the place of our encamp-
ment. Looking back upon the spot, at the distance of a few miles to the
northward, the hills appear to shut in the prairie, through which runs the
creek, with a semi-circular sweep, which might very naturally be called a
hole in the hills. The geological composition of the ridge is the same
which constitutes the rock of the Court-house and Chimney, on the North
fork, which appeared to me a continuation of this ridge. The winds and
rains work this formation into a variety of singular forms. The pass into

35

C 174 ]

Goshen’s hole is about two miles wide, and the hill on the western side
imitates, in an extraordinary manner, a massive fortified place, with a re-
markable fulness of detail. The rock is marl and earthy limestone, white,
without the least appearance of vegetation, and much resembles masonry
at a little distance ; and here it sweeps around a level area two or three
hundred yards in diameter, and in the 'form of a half moon, terminating
on either extremity in enormous bastions. Along the whole line of the
parapets appear domes and slender minarets, forty or fifty feet high, giving
it every appearance of an old fortified town. On the waters of White
river, where this formation exists in great extent, it presents appearances
which excite the admiration of the solitary voyageur, and form a frequent
theme of their conversation when speaking of the wonders of the country.
Sometimes it offers the perfectly illusive appearance of a large city, with
numerous streets and magnificent buildings, among which the Canadians
never fail to see their cabaret ; and sometimes it takes the form of a soli-
tary house, with many large chambers, into which they drive their horses
at night, and sleep in these natural defences perfectly secure from any at-
tack of prowling savages. Before reaching our camp at Goshen’s hole, in
crossing the immense detritus at the foot of the Castle rock, we were in-
volved amidst winding passages cut by the waters of the hill; and where,
with a breadth scarcely large enough for the passage of a horse, the walls
rise thirty and forty feet perpendicularly. This formation supplies the
discoloration of the Platte. At sunset, the height of the mercurial column
was 25.500, the attached thermometer 80°, and wind moderate from S.
38° E. Clouds covered the sky with the rise of the moon, but I succeeded
in obtaining the usual astronomical observations, which placed us in latitude
41° 40' 13", and longitude 104° 24' 36".

July 15. — At 6 this morning, the barometer was at 25.515, the thermom-
eter 72°; the day was fine, with some clouds looking dark on the south, with
a fresh breeze from the same quarter. We found that in our journey across
the country we had kept too much to the eastward. This morning, accord-
ingly, we travelled by compass some 15 or 20° to the west of north, and
struck the Platte some thirteen miles below Fort Laramie. The day was
extremely hot, and among the hills the wind seemed to have just issued
from an oven. Our horses were much distressed, as we had travelled
hard ; and it was with some difficulty that they were all brought to the
Platte ; which we reached at 1 o’clock. In riding in towards the river,
we found the trail of our carts, which appeared to have passed a day or
two since.

After having allowed our animals two hours for food and repose, we
resumed our journey, and towards the close of the day came in sight of
Laramie’s fork. Issuing from the river hills, we came first in view of
Fort Platte, a post belonging to Messrs. Sybille, Adams, & Co., situated
immediately in the point of land at the junction of Laramie with the
Platte. Like the post we had visited on the South fork, it was built of
earth, and still unfinished, being enclosed with walls (or rather houses) on
three of the sides, and open on the fourth to the river. A few hundred
yards brought us in view of the post of the American Fur Company, call-
ed Fort John, or Laramie. This was a large post, having more the air of
military construction than the fort at the mouth of the river. It is on the
left bank, on a rising ground some twenty five feet above the water; and
its lofty walls, whitewashed and picketed, with the large bastions at the

36

[ 174 ]

\

angles, gave it quite an imposing appearance in the uncertain light of
evening. A cluster of lodges, which the language told us belonged to
Sioux Indians, was pitched under the walls, and, with the fine back
ground of the Black hills and the prominent peak of Laramie mountain,
strongly drawn in the clear light of the western sky, where the sun had
already set, the whole formed at the moment a strikingly beautiful picture.
From the company at St. Louis I had letters for Mr. Boudeau, the gentle-
man in charge of the post, by whom I was received with great hospitality
and an efficient kindness, which was invaluable to me during my stay in
the country. I found our people encamped on the bank, a short distance
above the fort.. All were well ; and, in the enjoyment of a bountiful sup-
per, which coffee and bread made luxurious to us, we soon forgot the fa-
tigues of the last ten days.

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

Extract from the journal of Mr. Preuss .

“July 6. — We crossed the plateau or highland between the two forks in
about six hours. I let my horse go as slow as he liked, to indemnify us
both for the previous hardship ; and about noon we reached the North
fork. There was no sign that our party had passed ; we rode, therefore,
to some pine trees, unsaddled the horses, and stretched our limbs on the
grass, awaiting the arrival of our company. After remaining here two
hours, my companion became impatient, mounted his horse again, and
rode off down the river to see if he could discover our people. I felt so
marode yet, that it was a horrible idea to me to bestride that saddle again;
so 1 lay still. 1 knew they could not come any other way, and then my
companion, one of the best men of the company, would not abandon me.
The sun went down; he did not come. Uneasy I did not feel, but very
hungry ; I had no provisions, but I could make a fire ; and as I espied
two doves in a tree, I tried to kill one; but it needs a better marksman
than myself to kill a little bird with a rifle. I made a large fire, however,
lighted my pipe — this true friend of mine in every emergency — lay down,
and let my thoughts wander to the far east. It was not many minutes after
when I heard the tramp of a horse, and my faithful companion was by
my side. He had found the party, who had been delayed by making
their cache , about seven miles below. To the good supper which he
brought with him I did ample justice. He had forgotten salt, and I tried
the soldier’s substitute in time of war, and used gunpowder ; but it an-
swered badly — bitter enough, but no flavor of kitchen salt. I slept well ;
and was only disturbed by two owls, which were attracted by the fire,
and took their place in the tree under which we slept. Their music
seemed as disagreeable to my companion as to myself ; he fired his rifle
twice, and then they let us alone.

“July 7. — At about 10 o’clock, the party arrived; and we continued our
journey through a country which offered but little to interest the traveller.
The soil was much more sandy than in the valley below the confluence

»

37

[ 174 ]

of the forks, and the face of the country no longer presented the refresh-
ing green which had hitherto characterized it. The rich grass was now
found only in dispersed spots, on low grounds, and on the bottom land of
the streams. A long drought, joined to extreme heat, had so parched up
the upper prairies, that they were in many places bald, or covered only
with a thin growth of yellow and poor grass. The nature of the soil ren-
ders it extremely susceptible to the vicissitudes of the climate. Between
the forks, and from their junction to the Black hills, the formation con-
sists of marl and a soft earthy limestone, with granitic sandstone. Such a
formation cannot give rise to a sterile soil ; and, on our return in Septem-
ber, when the country had been watered by frequent rains, the valley of
the Platte looked like a garden ; so rich was the verdure of the grasses,
and so luxuriant the bloom of abundant flowers. The wild sage begins to
make its appearance, and timber is so scarce that we generally made our
fires of the bois de vache. With the exception of now and then an isolated
tree or two, standing like a light-house on the river bank, there is none
whatever to be seen.

“ July 8. — Our road to-day was a solitary one. No game made its appear-
ance— not even a buffalo or a stray antelope ; and nothing occurred to break
the monotony until about 5 o’clock, when the caravan made a sudden halt.
There was a galloping in of scouts and horsemen from every side — a hur-
rying to and fro in noisy confusion ; rifles were taken from their cover ;
bullet pouches examined : in short, there was the cry of 6 Indians,’ heard
again. I had become so much accustomed to these alarms, that now they
made but little impression on me ; and before I had time to become ex-
cited, the new comers were ascertained to be whites. It was a large party
of traders and trappers, conducted by Mr. Bridger, a man well known in
the history of the country. As the sun was low, and there was a fine grass
patch not far ahead, they turned back and encamped for the night with
us. Mr. Bridger was invited to supper ; and, after ihe table cloth was
removed, we listened with eager interest to an account of their adventures.
What they had met, we would be likely to encounter; the chances which
had befallen them, would probably happen to us ; and we looked upon
their life as a picture of our own. He informed us that the condition of
the country had become exceedingly dangerous. The Sioux, who had
been badly disposed, had broken out into open histility, and in the preced-
ing autumn his party had encountered them in a severe engagement, in
which a number of lives had been lost on both sides. United with the
Cheyenne and Gros Ventre Indians, they were scouring the upper country
in war parties of great force, and were at this time in the neighborhood of
the Red Buttes, a famous landmark, which was directly on our path.
They had declared war upon every living thing which should be found
westward of that point ; though their main object was to attack a large
camp of whites and Snake Indians, who had a rendezvous in the Sweet
Water valley. Availing himself of his intimate knowledge of the country,
he had reached Laramie by an unusual route through the Black hills, and
avoided coming into contact with any of the scattered parties. This gen-
tleman offered his services to accompany us so far as the head of the Sweet
Water ; but the absence of our leader, which was deeply regretted by us
all, rendered it impossible for us to enter upon such arrangement. In a
camp consisting of men whose lives had been spent in this country, I ex-
pected to find every one prepared for occurrences of this nature; but, to

38

[ 1^4 ]

my great surprise, I found, on the contrary, that this news had thrown
them all into the greatest consternation ; and, on every side, I heard only
one exclamation, 4 II n’y aura pas de vie pour nous’ All the night, scat-
tered groups were assembled around the fires, smoking their pipes, and
listening with the greatest eagerness to exaggerated details of Indian hos-
tilities ; and in the morniug I found the camp dispirited, and agitated by
a variety of conflicting opinions. A majority of the people were strongly
disposed to return ; but Clement Lambert, with some five or six others,
professed their determination to follow Mr. Fremont to the uttermost limit
of his journey. The others yielded to their remonstrances, and, some-
what ashamed of their cowardice, concluded to advance at least so far as
Laramie fork, eastward of which they were aware no danger was to be
apprehended. Notwithstanding the confusion and excitement, we were
very early on the road, as the days were extremely hot, and we were
anxious to profit by the freshness of the morning. The soft marly form-
ation, over which we were now journeying, frequently offers to the trav-
eller views of remarkable and picturesque beauty. To several of these
localities, where the winds and the rain have worked the bluffs into
curious shapes, the voyageurs have given names according to some fan-
cied resemblance. One of these, called the Court-house , we passed about
six miles from our encampment of last night, and toward noon came in
sight of the celebrated Chimney rock . It looks, at this distance of about
thirty miles, like what it is called — the long chimney of a steam factory es-
tablishment, or a shot tower in Baltimore. Nothing occurred to interrupt
the quiet of the day, and we encamped on the river, after a march of twen-
ty-four miles. Buffalo had become very scarce, and but one cow had been
killed, of which the meat had been cut into thin slices, and hung around
the carts to dry.

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

“ July 11. — The valley of the North fork is of a variable breadth, from
one to four, and sometimes six miles. Fifteen miles from the Chimney
rock we reached one of those places where the river strikes the bluffs,
and forces the road to make a considerable circuit over the uplands.
This presented an escarpment on the river of about nine hundred yards
in length, and is familiarly known as Scott’s bluffs. We had made a
journey of thirty miles before we again struck the river, at a place where
some scanty grass afforded an insufficient pasturage to our animals.
About twenty miles from the Chimney rock we had found a very beau-
tiful spring of excellent and cold water ; but it was in such a deep ravine,
and so small, that the animals could not profit by it, and we therefore
halted only a few minutes, and found a resting place ten miles further
on. The plain between Scott’s bluffs and Chimney rock was almost

so -r t

39

C 174 ]

entirely covered with drift wood, consisting principally of cedar, which,
we were informed, had been supplied from the Black hills, in a flood five
or six years since.

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

“ July 13. — To-day, about 4 o’clock, we reached Fort Laramie, where
we were cordially received ; we pitched our camp a little above the fort,
on the bank of Laramie river, in which the pure and clear water of the
mountain stream looked refreshingly cool, and made a pleasant contrast to
the muddy, yellow waters of the Platte.”

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

This post belongs to the American Fur Company, and, at the time of our
visit, was in charge of Mr. Boudeau. Two of the company’s clerks, Messrs.
Galpin and Kellogg, were with him, and he had in the fort about sixteen
men. As usual, these had found wives among the Indian squaws; and,
with the usual accompaniment of children, the place had quite a populous
appearance. It is hardly necessary to say, that the object of the establish-
ment is trade with the neighboring tribes, who, in the course of the year,
generally make two or three visits to the fort. In addition to this, traders,
with a small outfit, are constantly kept amongst them. The articles of
trade consist, on the one side, almost entirely of buffalo robes; and, on the
other, of blankets, calicoes, guns, powder, ^and lead, with such cheap or-
naments as glass beads, looking-glasses, rings, vermilion for painting, to-
bacco, and principally, and in spite of the prohibition, of spirits, brought
into the country in the form of alcohol, and diluted with water before
sold. While mentioning this fact, it is but justice to the American Fur
Company to state, that, throughout the country, I have always found
them strenuously opposed to the introduction of spirituous liquors. But,

40

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in the present state of things, when the country is supplied with alcohol,
when a keg of it will purchase from an Indian every thing he possesses —
his furs, his lodge, his horses, and even his wife and children — and when
any vagabond who has money enough to purchase a mule can go into a
village and trade against them successfully, without withdrawing entirely
from the trade, it is impossible for them to discontinue its use. In their
opposition to this practice, the company is sustained, not only by their
obligation to the laws of the country and the welfare of the Indians, but
clearly, also, on grounds of policy ; for, with heavy and expensive outfits,
they contend at manifestly great disadvantage against the numerous inde-
pendent and unlicensed traders, who enter the country from various ave-
nues, from the United States and from Mexico, having no other stock in
trade than some kegs of liquor, which they sell at the modest price of
thirty-six dollars per gallon. The difference between the regular trader
and the coureur des bois , (as the French call the itinerant or peddling tra-
ders,) with respect to the sale of spirits, is here, as it always has been, fix-
ed and permanent, and growing out of the nature of their trade. The
regular trader looks ahead, and has an interest in the preservation of the
Indians, and in the regular pursuit of their business, and the preservation
of their arms, horses, and every thing necessary to their future and perma-
nent success in hunting : the coureur des bois has no permanent interest,
and gets what he can, and for what he can, from every Indian he meets,
even at the risk of disabling him from doing any thing more at hunting.

The fort had a very cool and clean appearance. The great entrance, in
which I found the gentlemen assembled, and which was floored, and about
fifteen feet long, made a pleasant, shaded seat, through which the breeze
swept constantly ; for this country is famous for high winds. In the
course of conversation, I learned the following particulars, which will ex-
plain the condition of the country: For several years the Cheyennes and

Sioux had gradually become more and more hostile to the whites, and
in the latter part of August, 1S41, had had a rather severe engagement with
a party of sixty men, under the command of Mr. Frapp, of St. Louis. The
Indians lost eight or ten warriors, and the whites had their leader and
four men killed. This fight took place on the waters of Snake river; and
it was this party, on their return under Mr. Bridger, which had spread
so much alarm among my people. In the course of the spring, two other
small parties had been cut off by the Sioux — one on their return from the
Crow nation, and the other among the Black hills. The emigrants to
Oregon and Mr. Bridger’s party met here, a few days before our arrival.
Division and misunderstandings had grown up among them ; they were
already somewhat disheartened by the fatigue of their long and weari-
some journey, and the feet of their cattle had become so much worn as
to be scarcely able to travel. In this situation, they were not likely to
find encouragement in the hostile attitude of the Indians, and the new
and unexpected difficulties which sprang up before them. They were
told that the country was entirely swept of grass, and that few or no buffa-
lo were to be found on their line of route ; and, with their weakened ani-
mals, it would be impossible for them to transport their heavy wagons
over the mountain. Under these circumstances, they disposed of their
wagons and cattle at the forts; selling them at the prices they had paid
in the States, and taking in exchange coffee and sugar at one dollar a
pound, and miserable worn-out horses, which died before they reached

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C 174 3

the mountains. Mr. Boudeau informed me that he had purchased thirty,
and the lower fort, eighty head of fine cattle, some of them of the Durham
breed. Mr. Fitzpatrick, whose name and high reputation are familiar to
all who interest themselves in the history of this country, had reached
Laramie in company with Mr. Bridger ; and the emigrants were fortunate
enough to obtain his services to guide them as far as the British post of
Fort Hall, about two hundred and fifty miles beyond the South Pass of
the mountains. They had started for this post on the 4th of July, and,
immediaiely after their departure, a war party of three hundred and fifty
braves sat out upon their trail. As their principal chief or partisan had
lost some relations in the recent fight, and had sworn to kill the first whites
on his path, it was supposed that their intention was to attack the party,
should a favorable opportunity offer ; or, if they were foiled in their prin-
cipal object by the vigilance of Mr. Fitzpatrick, content themselves with
stealing horses and cutting off stragglers. These had been gone but a few
days previous to our arrival.

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

Thus it would appear that the. country was swarming with scattered
war parties ; and when I he^r(j) during the day, the various contradictory
and exaggerated rumors which were incessantly repeated to them, I was
not surprised that sq much alarm prevailed among my men. Carson, one
of the best and. most experienced mountaineers, fully supported the

42

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

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

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

The weather was:cloudy at evening, with a moderate south wind, aud
the thermometer at 6 o’clock 85°. I was disappointed in my hope of ob-

43

[ 174 ]

twining an observation of an oecultation, which took place about midnight.
The moon brought with her heavy banks of clouds, through which she
scarcely made her appearance during the night.

The morning of the 18th was cloudy and calm, the thermometer at 6
o’clock at 64°. About 9, with a moderate wind from the west, a storm of
rain came on, accompanied by sharp thunder and lightning, which lasted
about an hour. During the day the expected village arrived, consisting
principally of old men, women, and children. They had a considerable
number of horses, and large troops of dogs. Their lodges were pitched
near the fort, and our camp was constantly crowded with Indians of all
sizes, from morning until night ; at which time some of the soldiers gen-
erally came to drive them all off to the village. My tent was the only
place which they respected. Here only came the chiefs and men of dis-
tinction, and generally one of them remained to drive away the women
and children. The numerous strange instruments, applied to still stranger
uses, excited awe and admiration among them, and those which I used
in talking with the sun and stars they looked upon with especial rever-
ence, as mysterious things of “ great medicine.” Of the three barometers
which I had brought with me thus far successfully, I found that two were
out of order, and spent the greater part of the 1 9th in repairing them —
an operation of no small difficulty in the midst of the incessant interrup-
tions to which I was subjected. We had the misfortune to break here a
large thermometer, graduated to show fifths of a degree, which I used to
ascertain the temperature of boiling water, and with which I had promised
myself some interesting experiments in the mountains. We had but one
remaining, on which the graduation extended sufficiently high ; and this
was too small for exact observations. During our stay here, the men had
been engaged in making numerous repairs, arranging pack saddles, and
otherwise preparing for the chances of a rough road and mountain travel.
All things of this nature being ready, I gathered them around me in the
evening, and told them that “ I had determined to proceed the next day.
They were all well armed. I had engaged the services of Mr. Bissonette
as interpreter, and had taken, in the circumstances, every possible means
to insure our safety. In the rumors we had heard, I believed there was
much exaggeration, and then they were men accustomed to this kind of
life and to the country ; and that these were the dangers of every day
occurrence, and to be expected in the ordinary course of their service.
They had heard of the unsettled condition of the country before leaving
St. Louis, and therefore could not make it a reason for breaking their en-
gagements. Still, I was unwilling to take with me, on a service of some
certain danger, men on whom I could not rely ; and as I had understood
that there were among them some who were disposed to cowardice, and
anxious to return, they had but to come forward at once, and state their
desire, and they would be discharged with the amount due to them for
the time they had served.” To their honor be it said, there was but one
among them who had the face to come forward and avail himself of the
permission. I asked him some few questions, in order to expose him to
the ridicule of the men, and let him go. The day after our departure, he
engaged himself to one of the forts, and set off with a party for the Upper
Missouri. I did not think that the situation of the country justified me in
taking our young companions, Messrs. Brant and Benton, along with us.
In case of misfortune, it would have been thought, at the least, an act of

44

[ 1^4 ]

great imprudence ; and therefore, though reluctantly, I determined to leave
them. Randolph had been the life of the camp, and the “ petit garpon”
was much regretted by the men, to whom his buoyant spirits had afforded
great amusement. They all, however, agreed in the propriety of leaving
him at the fort, because, as they said, he might cost the lives of some of the
men in a fight with the Indians.

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

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

“ Fort Platte, Juffiel 1, 1842.

“ Mr. Fremont : Les ches s’etant assembles presentement me disent
de vous avertir de ne point vous mettre en route, avant que le parti de
jeunes gens, qui est en dehors, soient de letour. De plus, ils me disent
qu’ils sont tre certains qu’ils feront feu a la premiere rencontre. Ils
doivent etre de retour dans sept a D/uit jours. Excusez si je vous fais cos
observations, mais il me sern^\e qu’il est mon devoir de vous avertir du
danger. Meme de phi^ ies chefs sont les porteurs de ce billet, qui vous
defendent de partir avant le retour des guerriers.

“ Je suis votre obeissant serviteur,

“JOSEPH BISSONETTE,

“ Par L. B. CHARTRAIN.

“ Les noms de quelques chefs. — Le Chapeau de Loutre, le Casseur de
Fleches, la Nuit Koir, la Queue de Boeuf.”

[Translation.]

“ Fort Platte, July 1, 1842.

“Mr. Fremont: The chiefs, having assembled in council, have just
told me to warn you not to set out before the party of young men which

45

[ 174 ]

is now out shall have returned. Furthermore, they tell me that they are
very sure they will fire upon you as soon as they meet you. They are
expected back in seven or eight days. Excuse me for making these ob-
servations, but it seems my duty to warn you of danger. Moreover, the
chiefs who prohibit your setting out before the return of the warriors are
the bearers of this note.

“ I am your obedient servant,

“ JOSEPH BISSONETTE,

“ By L. B. CHARTRAIN.

“ Names of some of the chiefs. — The Otter Hat, the Breaker of Arrows,
the Black Night, the Bull’s Tail.”

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

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

The observations of the savage appeared reasonable ; but I was aware
that they had in view only the present object of detaining me, and were
unwilling I should go further into the country. In reply, I asked them,
through the interpretation of Mr. Boudeau, to select two or three of their
number to accompany us until we should meet their people — they should
spread their robes in my tent and eat at my table, and on our return I
would give them presents in reward of their services. They declined,
saying that there were no young men left in the village, antt that they
were too old to travel so many days on horseback, and preferred now to
smoke their pipes in the lodge, and let the warriors go on the war path.
Besides, they had no power over the young men, and were afraid to inter-
fere with them. In my turn I addressed them : “ You say that you love
the whites; why have you killed so many already this spring? You say
that you love the whites, and are full of many expressions of friendship to
us ; but you are not willing to undergo the fatigue of a few days’ ride to
save our lives. We do not believe what you have said, and will not lis-
ten to you. Whatever a chief among us tells his soldiers to do, is done.
We are the soldiers of the great chief, your father. He has told us to
come here and see this country, and ail the Indians, his children. Why

46

[ 174 ]

should we not go ? Before we came, we heard that you had killed his
people, and ceased to be his children ; but we came among you peaceably,
holding out our hands. Now we find that the stories we heard are not
lies, and that you are no longer his friends and children. We have thrown
away our bodies, and will not turn back. When you told us that your
young men would kill us, you did not know that our hearts were strong,
and you did not see the rifles which my young men carry in their hands.
We are few, and you are many, and may kill us all ; but there will be
mucli crying in your villages, for many of y.our young men will stay be-
hind, and forget to return with your warriors from the mountains. Do
you think that our great chief will let his soldiers die, and forget to cover
their graves ? Before the snows melt again, his warriors will sweep away
your villages as the fire does the prairie in the autumn. See ! I have
pulled down my white houses , and my people are ready : when the sun is
ten paces higher, we shall be on the march. If you have any thing to tell
us, you will say it soon.” I broke up the conference, as I could do noth-
ing with these people ; and, being resolved to proceed, nothing was to be
gained by delay. Accompanied by our hospitable friends, we returned to
the camp. We had mounted our horses, and our parting salutations had
been exchanged, when one of the chiefs (the Bull’s Tail) arrived to tell
me that they had determined to send a young man with us; and if I
would point out the place of our evening camp, he should join us there.
“ The young man is poor,” said he ; “ he has no horse, and expects you to
give him one.” I described to him the place where I intended to encamp,
and, shaking hands, in a few minutes we were among the hills, and this
last habitation of whites shut out from our view.

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

I was desirous to visit the Platte near the point where it leaves the
Black hills, and therefore followed this stream, for two or three miles, to
the mouth ; where I encamped on a spot which afforded good grass and
j mile ( equisetum ) for our animals. Our tents having been found too thin
to protect ourselves and the instruments from the rains, which in this
elevated country are attended with cold and unpleasant weather, I had
procured from the Indians at Laramie a tolerably large lodge, about eigh-
teen feet in diameter, and twenty feet in height. Such a lodge, when
properly pitched, is, from its conical form, almost perfectly secure against
the violent winds which are frequent in this region, and, with a fire in the
centre, is a dry and warm shelter in bad weather. By raising the lower

47

[ 174 ]

part, so as to permit the breeze to pass freely, it is converted into a pleas-
ant summer residence, with the extraordinary advantage of being entirely
free from mosquitoes, one of which I have never seen in an Indian lodge.
While we were engaged very unskilfully in erecting this, the interpreter,
Mr. Bissonette, arrived, accompanied by the Indian and his wife. She
laughed at our awkwardness, and offered her assistance, of which we were
frequently afterward obliged to avail ourselves, before the men acquired
sufficient expertness to pitch it without difficulty. From this place we
had a fine view of the gorge where the Platte issues from the Black hills,
changing its character abruptly from a mountain stream into a river of the
plains. Immediately around us the valley of the stream was tolerably
open ; and at the distance of a few miles, wher.e the river had cut its way
through the hills, was the narrow cleft, on one side of which a lofty preci-
pice of bright red rock rose vertically above the low hills which lay be-
tween us.

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

If it is in contemplation to keep open the communications with Oregon
territory, a show of military force in this country is absolutely necessary;
and a combination of advantages renders the neighborhood of Fort Lara-
mie the most suitable place, on the line of the Platte, for the establishment
of a military post. It is connected with the mouth of the Platte and the
Upper Missouri by excellent roads, which are in frequent use, and would
not in any way interfere with the range of the buffalo, on which the

48

[ 174 ]

neighboring Indians mainly depend for support. It would render any
posts on the Lower Platte unnecessary; the ordinary communication be-
tween it and the Missouri being sufficient to control the intermediate In-
dians. It would operate effectually to prevent any such coalitions as are
now formed among the Gros Ventres, Sioux, Cheyennes, and other Indians,
and would keep the Oregon road through the valley of the Sweet Water
and the South Pass of the mountains constantly open. A glance at the
map which accompanies this report will show that it lies at the foot of
a broken and mountainous region, along which, by the establishment of
small posts in the neighborhood of St. Vrain’s fort, on the South fork of
the Platte, and Bent’s fort, on the Arkansas, a line of communication would
be formed, by good wagon roads, with our southern military posts, which
would entirely command thfe mountain passes, hold some of the most
troublesome tribes in check, and protect and facilitate our intercourse with
the neighboring Spanish settlements. The valleys of the rivers on which
they would be situated are fertile ; the country, which supports immense
herds of buffalo, is admirably adapted to grazing ; and herds of cattle might
be maintained by the posts, or obtained from the Spanish country, which
aiready supplies a portion of their provisions to the trading posts mentioned
above.

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

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

The bed of the creek is sand and gravel, the water dispersed over the
broad bed in several shallow streams. We found here, on the right bank,
in the shade of the trees, a fine spring of very cold water. It will be re-
marked that I do not mention, in this portion of the journey, the tempera-
ture of the air, sand, springs, &c, — an omission which will be explained in

49 [ 174 ]

the course of the narrative. In my search for plants, I was well rewarded
at this place.

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

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

Our dried meat had given out, and we began to be in want of food; but
one of the hunters killed an antelope this evening, which afforded some
relief, although it did not go far among so many hungry men. At 8 o’clock
at night, after a march of twenty-seven miles, we reached our proposed en-
campment on the Fer-h-Cheval , or Horse-shoe creek. Here we found
good grass, with a great quantity of prele, which furnished good food for
our tired animals. This creek is well timbered, principally with Hard
amtre , and, with the exception of Deer creek, which we had not yet reach-
ed, is the largest affluent of the right bank between Laramie and the
mouth of the Sweet Water.

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

I was informed that the roving villages of Indians and travellers had
never met with difficulty in finding an abundance of grass for their horses ;
and now it was after great search that we were able to find a scanty patch
of grass, sufficient to keep them from sinking ; and in the course of a day
4

50

[ 174 ]

or two they began to suffer very much. We found none to-day at noon ;
and, in the course of our search on the Platte, came to a grove of cotton-
wood, where some Indian village had recently encamped. Boughs of the
cottonwood yet green covered the ground, which the Indians had cut
down to feed their horses upon. It is only in the winter that recourse is
had to this means of sustaining them ; and their resort to it at this time was
a striking evidence of the state of the country. We followed their example,
and turned our horses into a grove of young poplars. This began to pre-
sent itself as a very serious evil, for on our animals depended altogether
the further prosecution of our journey.

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

We continued our march, and, after a journey of about twenty-one miles,
encamped on the Platte. During the day, I had occasionally remarked
among the hills the psoralea esculenta, the bread root of the Indians. The
Sioux use this root very extensively, and I have frequently met with it
among them, cut into thin slices and dried. In the course of the even-
ing we were visited by six Indians, who told us that a larger party was en-
camped a few miles above. Astronomical observations placed us in longi-
tude 104° 59' 59", and latitude 42° 39’ 25".

We made the next day twenty-two miles, and encamped on the right

51

[ 174 J

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

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

July 26. — Early this morning we were again in motion. We had a
stock of provisions for fifteen days carefully stored away in the carts, and
this I resolved should only be encroached upon when our rifles should fail
to procure us present support. I determined to reach the mountains, if it
were in any way possible. In the mean time, buffalo were plenty. In six
miles from our encampment, (which, by way of distinction, we shall call
Dried Meat camp,) we crossed a handsome stream, called La Foarche
Bois6e. It is well timbered, and, among the flowers in bloom on its banks,
I remarked several asters.

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

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

July 27. — Nothing worthy of mention occurred on this day ; we trav-

f

52

[ 174 ]

elled later than usual, having spent some time in searching for grass,
crossing and recrossing the river before we could find a sufficient quantity
for our animals. Toward dusk, we encamped among some artemisia
hushes, two and three feet in height, where some scattered patches of |
short tough grass afforded a scanty supply. In crossing, we had occasion
to observe that the river was frequently too deep to be forded, though we
always succeeded in finding a place where the water did not enter the
carts. The stream continued very clear, with two or three* hundred feet
breadth of water, and the sandy bed and banks were frequently covered
with large round pebbles. We had travelled this day twenty-seven miles.
The main chain of the Black hills was' here only about seven miles to
the south, on the right bank of the river, rising abruptly to the height of I
eight and twelve hundred feet. Patches of green grass in the ravines on
the steep sides marked the presence of springs, and the summits were clad
with pines.

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

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

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

From the mouth of the Kansas to the Green^iver valley, west of the |

53 [ 174 ]

Rocky mountains, there is no such thing as a mountain road on the line of
communication.

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

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

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

The carts having been discharged, the covers and wheels were taken,
off, and, with the frames, carried into some low places among the willows,
and concealed in the dense foliage in such a manner that the glitter of the
iron work might not attract the observation of some straggling Indian.
In the sand, which had been blown up into waves among the willows, a
large hole was then dug, ten feet square, and six deep. In the mean time,

54

l *74 ]

all our effects had been spread out upon the ground, and whatever was
designed to be carried along with us separated and laid aside, and the re-
maining part carried to the hole and carefully covered up. As much as
possible, all traces of our proceedings were obliterated, and it wanted but
a rain to render our cache safe beyond discovery. All the men were now
set at work to arrange the pack saddles and make up the packs.

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

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

The river here cuts its way through a ridge ; on the eastern side of it
are the lofty escarpments of red argillaceous sandstone, which are called
the Red Buttes. In this passage the stream is not much compressed or
pent up, there being a bank of considerable though variable breadth on
either side. Immediately on entering, we discovered a band of buffalo.
The hunters failed to kill any of them; the leading hunter being thrown
into a ravine, which occasioned some delay, and in the mean time the
herd clambered up the steep face of the ridge. It is sometimes wonderful
to see these apparently clumsy animals make their way up and down the
most rugged and broken precipices. We halted to noon before we had
cleared this passage, at a spot twelve miles distant from Cache camp, where
we found an abundance of grass. So far, the account of the Indians was
found to be false. On the banks were willow and cherry trees. The
cherries were not yet ripe, but in the thickets were numerous fresh tracks
of the grizzly bear, which are very fond of this fruit. The soil here is
red, the composition being derived from the red sandstone. About seven
miles brought us through the ridge, in which the course of the river is north
and south. Here the valley opens out broadly, and high walls of the red
formation present themselves among the hills to the east. We crossed

HOT SPRTNG GATE

55

[ 174 ]

here a pretty little creek, an affluent of the right bank. It is well timber-
ed with cottonwood in this vicinity, and the absinthe has lost its shrub-
like character, and becomes small trees six and eight feet in height, and
so#metimes eight inches in diameter. Two or three miles above this creek
we made our encampment, having travelled to-day twenty-five miles.
Our animals fared well here, as there is an abundance of grass. The river
bed is made up of pebbles, and in the bank, at the level of the water, is a
conglomerate of coarse pebbles about the size of ostrich eggs, and which
I remarked in the banks of the Laramie fork. It is overlaid by a soil of
mixed clay and sand, six feet thick. By astronomical observations, our
position is in longitude 106° 54' 32", and latitude 42° 38'.

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

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

Crossing the ridge of red sandstone, and traversing the little prairie which
lies to the southward of it, we made in the afternoon an excursion to a place
which we have called the Hot Spring Gate. This place has much the ap-
pearance of a gate, by which the Platte passes through a ridge composed
of a white and calcareous sandstone. The length' of the passage is about
four hundred yards, with a smooth green prairie on either side. Through
this place, the stream flows with a quiet current, unbroken by any rapid,
and is about seventy yards wide between the walls, which rise perpen-

56

[ 174 ]

dicularly from the water. To that on the right bank, which is the lowpr,
the barometer gave a height of three hundred and sixty feet. Annexed
is a view of this place, which will be more particularly described here-
after, as we passed through it on our return.

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

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

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

August 1. — The hunters went ahead this morning, as buffalo appeared
tolerably abundant, and I was desirous to secure a small stock of pro-
visions; and we moved about seven miles up the valley, ana encamped
one mile below Rock Independence. This is an isolated granite rock,
about six hundred and fifty yards long, and forty in height. Except in
a depression of the summit, where a little soil supports a scanty growth

devil’s gate

57

[ 174 ]

of shrubs, with a solitary dwarf pine, it is entirely bare. Every where
within six or eight feet of the ground, where the surface is sufficiently
smooth, and in some places sixty or eighty feet above, the rock is inscribed
with the names of travellers. Many a name famous in the history of this
country, and some well known to science, are to be found mixed among
those of the traders and of travellers for pleasure and curiosity, and of mis-
sionaries among the savages. Some of these have been washed away by
the rain, but the greater number are still very legible. The position of
this rock is in longitude 107° 56', latitude 42° 29' 36". We remained at
our camp of August 1st until noon of the next day, occupied in drying
meat. By observation, the longitude of the place is 107° 25' 23", latitude
42° 29' 56".

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

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

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

August 3. — We were early on the road the next morning, travelling
along the upland part of the valley, which is overgrown with artemisia.
Scattered about on the plain are occasional small isolated hills. One of
these which I examined, about fifty feet high, consisted of white clay and
marl, in nearly horizontal strata. Several bands of buffalo made their ap-

53

[ 174 ]

pearance to-day. with herds of antelope ; and a grizzly bear — the only one
we encountered during the journey— was seen scrambling up among the
rocks. As we passed over a slight rise near the river, we caught the first
view of the Wind river mountains, appearing, at this distance of about
seventy miles, to be a low and dark mountainous ridge. The view dissipat-
ed in a moment the pictures which had been created in our minds, by many
descriptions of travellers, who have compared these mountains to the Alps
in Switzerland, and speak of the glittering peaks which rise in icy majesty
amidst the eternal glaciers nine or ten thousand feet into the region of eter-
nal snows. The nakedness of the river was relieved by groves of willows,
where we encamped at night, after a march of twenty-six miles ; and nu-
merous bright-colored flowers had made the river bottom look gay as a
garden. We found here a horse, which had been abandoned by the In-
dians, because his hoofs had been so much worn that he was unable to
travel; and, during the night, a dog came into the camp.

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

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

August 6. — It continued steadily raining all the day ; but, notwithstand-
ing, we left our encampment in the afternoon. Our animals had been
much refreshed by their repose, and an abundance of rich, soft grass, which
had been much improved by the rains. In about three miles, we reached
the entrance of a kanyon , where the Sweet Water issues upon the more
open valley we had passed ovet. Immediately at the entrance, and super-
imposed directly upon the granite, are strata of compact calcareous sand-
stone and chert, alternating with fine white and reddish white, and fine
gray and red sandstones. These strata dip to the eastward at an angle of
about 18°, and form the western limit of the sandstone and limestone forma-
tions on the line of our route. Here we entered among the primitive
rocks. The usual road passes to the right of this place; but we wound,

59

[ 174 ]

or rather scrambled, our way up the narrow valley for several hours.
Wildness and disorder were the character of this scenery. The river had
been swollen by the late rains, and came rushing through with an impetuous
current, three or four feet deep, and generally twenty yards broad. The
valley was sometimes the breadth of the stream, and sometimes opened
into little green meadows, sixty yards wide, with open groves of aspen.
The stream was bordered throughout with aspen, beech, and willow; and
tall pines grew on the sides and summits of the crags. On both sides, the
granite rocks rose precipitously to the height of three hundred and five
hundred feet, terminating in jagged and broken pointed peaks ; and frag-
ments of fallen rock lay piled up at the foot of the precipices. Gneiss,
mica slate, and a white granite, were among the varieties I noticed. Here
were many old traces of beaver on the stream ; remnants of dams, near
which were lying trees, which they had cut down, one and two feet in
diameter. The hills entirely shut up the river- at the end of about five
miles, and we turned up a ravine that led to a high prairie, which seemed to
be the general level of the country. Hence, to the summit of the ridge,
there is a regular and very gradual rise. Blocks of granite were piled up
at the heads of the ravines, and small bare knolls of mica slate and milky
quartz protruded at frequent intervals on the prairie, which was whitened
in occasional spots with srji^J^alt jajses, where the water had evaporated,
and left the bed covered with a shining incrustation of salt. The evening
was very cold, a northwest wind driving a fine rain in our faces ; and at
nightfall we descended to a little stream, on which we encamped, about
two miles from the Sweet Water. Here had recently been a very large (
camp of Snake and Crow Indians ; and some large poles lying about af-
forded the means of pitching a tent, and making other places of shelter.
Our fires to-night were made principally of the dry branches of the arte-
misia, which covered the slopes. It burns quickly, with a clear oily flame,
and makes a hot fire. The hills here are composed of hard, compact mica
slate, with veins of quartz.

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

The afternoon was cloudy, with squalls of rain ; but the weather be-
came fine at sunset, when we again encamped on the Sweet Water, with-
in a few miles of the South Pass. The country over which we have
passed to-day consists principally of the compact mica slate, which crops
out on all the ridges, making .the uplands very rocky and slaty. In the
escarpments which border the creeks, it is seen alternating with a light-
colored granite, at an inclination of 45° ; the beds varying in thickness
from two or three feet to six or eight hundred. At a distance, the granite

60

[ 1?4 ]

y frequently has the appearance of irregular lumps of clay, hardened by ex-
posure. A variety of asters may now be numbered amoug the character-
istic plants, and the artemisia continues in full glory ; but cacti have be-
come rare, and mosses begin to dispute the hills with them. The evening
was damp and unpleasant; the thermometer, at 10 o’clock, being at 36°,
and the grass wet with a heavy dew. Our astronomical observations placed
this encamptment in longitude 109° 21' 32", and latitude 42° 27' 15".

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

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

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

August 9. — We made our noon halt to-day on Big Sandy, another

61

C 174 ]

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

•August 10. — The air at sunrise is clear and pure, and the morning ex-
tremely cold, but beautiful. A lofty snow peak of the mountain is glitter-
ing in the first rays of the sun, which has not yet reached us. The long
mountain wall>to the east, rising two thousand feet abruptly from the
plain, behind which we see the peaks, is still dark, and cuts clear against
the glowing sky. A fog, just risen from the river, lies along the base of
the mountain. A little before sunrise, the thermometer was at 35°, and at
sunrise 33°. Water froze last night, and fires are very comfortable. The
scenery becomes hourly more interesting and grand, and the view here is
truly magnificent; but, indeed, it needs something to repay the long prai-
rie journey of a thousand miles. The sun has just shot above the wall,
and makes a magical change. The whole valley is glowing and bright,
and all the mountain peaks are gleaming like silver. Though these snow
mountains are not the Alps, they have their own character of grandeur
and magnificence, and will doubtless find pens and pencils to do them
justice. In the scene before us, we feel how much wood improves a view.
The pines on the mountain seemed to give it much additional beauty. I
was agreeably disappointed in the character of the streams on this side of
the ridge. Instead of the creeks, which description had led me to expect,

I find bold, broad streams, with three or four feet water, and a rapid cur-
rent. The fork on which we are encamped is upwards of a hundred feet
♦ wide, timbered with groves or thickets of the low willow. We were now
approaching the loftiest part of the Wind river chain ; and I left the val-
ley a few miles from our encampment, intending to penetrate the moun-
tains as far as possible with the whole party. We were soon involved in
very broken ground, among long ridges covered with fragments of granite
Winding our way up a long ravine, we came unexpectedly in view of a
most beautiful lake, set like a gem in the mountains. The sheet of water
lay transversely across the direction we had been pursuing ; and, descend-
ing the steep, rocky ridge, where it was necessary to lead our horses, we
followed its banks to the southern extremity. Here a view of the utmost
magnificence and grandeur burst upon our eyes. With nothing between
us and their feet to lessen the effect of the whole height, a grand bed of
snow-capped mountains rose before us, pile upon pile, glowing in the
bright light of an August day. Immediately below them lay the lake,
between two ridges, covered with dark pines, which swept down from

[ 174 ] 62

the main chain to the spot where we stood. Here, where the lake glittered
in the open sunlight, its banks of yellow sand and the light foliage of aspen
groves contrasted well with the gloomy pines. “Never before,” said
Mr. Preuss, “in this country or in Europe, have I seen such magnificent,
grand rocks.” I was so much pleased with the beauty of the place, that
I determined to make the main camp here, where our animals would find
good pasturage, and explore the mountains with a small party of men.
Proceeding a little further, we came suddenly upon the outlet of the lake, '
where it found its way through a narrow passage between low hills. Dark
pines, which overhung the stream, and masses of rock, where the water
foamed along, gave it much romantic beauty. Where we crossed, which
was immediately at the outlet, it is two hundred and fifty feet wide, and
so deep, that with difficulty we were able to ford it. Its bed was an ac-
cumulation of rocks, boulders, and broad slabs, and large angular frag-
ments, among which the animals fell repeatedly.

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

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

As soon as the camp was formed, I set about endeavoring to repair my
barometer. As I have already said, this was a standard cistern barometer,
of Troughton’s construction. The glass cistern had been broken about
midway ; but as the instrument had been kept in a proper position, no air
had found its way into the tube, -the end of which had always remained
covered. I had with me a number of vials of tolerably thick glass, some
of which were of the same diameter as the cistern, and I spent the day in

63

[ 174 ]

slowly working on these, endeavoring to cut them of the requisite length ;
but, as my instrument was a very rough file, I invariably broke them. A
groove was cut in one of the trees, where £he barometer was placed during
the night, to be out of the way of any possible danger, and in the morning
I commenced again. Among the powder horns in the camp, I found one
which was very transparent, so that its contents could be almost as plainly
seen as through glass. This I boiled and stretched on a piece of wood to
the requisite diameter, and scraped it very thin, in order to increase to the
utmost its transparency. I then secured it firmly in its place on the instru-
ment, with strong glue made from a buffalo, and filled it with mercury,
properly heated. A piece of skin, which had covered one of the vials,
furnished a good pocket,twhich was well secured with strong thread and
glue, and then the brass cover was screwed to its place. The instrument
was left some time to dry ; and when I reversed it, a few hours after, I had
the satisfaction to find it in perfect order ; its indications being about the
same as on the other side of the lake before it had been broken. Our suc-
cess in this little incident diffused pleasure throughout the camp ; and we
immediately set about our preparations for ascending the mountains.

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

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

Our arrangements for the ascent were rapidly completed. We were in
a hostile country, which rendered the greatest vigilance and circumspec-
tion necessary. The pass at the north end of the mountain was generally
infested by Blackfeet ; and immediately opposite was one of their forts, on

64

l 174 ]

the edge of a little thicket, two or three hundred feet from our encamp-
ment. We were posted in a grove of beech, on the margin of the lake,
and a few hundred feet long, with a narrow prairillon on the inner side,
bordered by the rocky ridge. In the upper end of this grove we cleared a
circular space about forty feet in diameter, and, with the felled timber and
interwoven branches, surrounded it with a breastwork five feet in height.

A gap was left for a gate on the inner side, by which the animals were !
to be driven in and secured, while the men slept around the little work, i
It was half hidden by the foliage; and, garrisoned by twelve resolute
men, would have set at defiance any band of savages which might chance i
to discover them in the interval of our absence. Fifteen of the best ^
mules, with fourteen men, were selected for the- mountain party. Our pro-
visions consisted of dried meat for two days, with our little stock of coffee |
and some maccaroni. In addition to the barometer and a thermometer, I
took with me a sextant and spy glass, and we had of course our compasses. -
In charge of the camp I left Bernier, one of my most trustworthy men,
who possessed the most, determined courage.

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

The slope was frequently 60°; the pines grew densely together, and
the ground was covered with the branches and trunks of trees. The air
was fragrant with the odor of the pines ; and I realized this delightful
morning the pleasure of breathing that mountain air which makes a con-
stant theme of the hunter’s praise, and which now made us feel as if we
had all been drinking some exhilarating gas. The depths of this unex-
plored forest were a place to delight the heart of a botanist. There was
a rich undergrowth of plants, and numerous gay-colored flowers in bril-

65

[ 174 ]

liant bloom. We reached the outlet at length, where some freshly barked
willows that lay in the water showed that beaver had been recently at work.
There were some small brown squirrels jumping about in the pines, and a
couple of large mallard ducks swimming about in the stream.

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

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

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

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

August 13.-— The morning was bright and pleasant, just cool enough
5

66

[ !?4 ]

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

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

1 determined to leave our animals here, and make the rest of our way on
foot. The peak appeared so near, that there was no doubt of our returning
before night; and a few men were left in charge of the mules, with our pro-
visions and blankets. We took with us nothing but our arms and instru-
ments, and, as the day had become warm, the greater part left our coats.
Having made an early dinner, we started again. We were soon involved
in the most ragged precipices, nearing the central chain very slowly, and
rising but little. The first ridge hid a succession of others; and when, with
great fatigue and difficulty, we had climbed up five hundred feet, it was but
to make an equal descent on the other side ; all these intervening places
were filled with small deep lakes, which met the eye in every direction,
descending from one level to another, sometimes under bridges formed by
huge fragments of granite, beneath which was heard the roar of the water.
These constantly obstructed our path, forcing us to make long detours;
frequently obliged to retrace our steps, and frequently falling among the
rocks. Maxwell was precipitated toward the face of a precipice, and saved
himself from going over by throwing himself flat on the ground. We
clambered on, always expecting, with every ridge that we crossed, to reach
the foot of the peaks, and always disappointed, until about 4 o’clock, when,
pretty well worn out, we reached the shore of a little lake, in which there
was a rocky island, and from which we obtained the view given in the
frontispiece. We remained here a short time to rest, and continued on
around the lake, which had in some places a beach of white sand, and in
others was bound with rocks, over which the way was difficult and dan-
gerous, as the water from innumerable springs made them very slippery.

By the time we had reached the further side of the lake, we found our-
selves all exceedingly fatigued, and, much to the satisfaction of the whole
party, we encamped. The spot we had chosen was a broad flat rock, in
some measure protected from the win'ds by the surrounding crags, and the

VIEW OF THE WIND

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

On every side as we advanced was heard the roar of waters, and of a
torrent, which we followed up a short distance, until it expanded into a lake
about one mile in length. On the northern side of the }ake was a bank of
ice, or rather of snow covered with a crust of ice. Carson had been our
guide into the mountains, and, agreeably to his advice, we left this little
valley, and took to the ridges again ; which we found extremely broken,
and where we were again involved among precipices. Here were ice fields;
among which we were all dispersed, seeking each the best path to ascend
the peak. Mr. Preuss attempted to walk along the upper edge of one of
these fields, which sloped away at an angle of about twenty degrees; but his
feet slipped from under him, and he went plunging down the plane. A few
hundred feet below, at the bottom, were some fragments of sharp rock, on
which he landed ; and though he turned a couple of somersets, fortunately
received no injury beyond a few bruises. Two of the men, Clement Lam-
bert and Descoteaux, had been taken ill, and lay down on the rocks a short
distance below ; and at this point I was attacked with headache and giddi-
ness, accompanied by vomiting, as on the day before. Finding myself un-
able to proceed, I sent the barometer over to Mr. Preuss, who was in a*gap
two or three hundred yards distant, desiring him to reach the peak, if pos-
sible, and take an observation there. He found himself unable to proceed

68

[ 174 ]

further in that direction, and took an observation, where the barometer stood
at 19.401 ; attached thermometer 50°, in the gap. Carson, who had gone
over to him, succeeded in reaching one of the snowy summits of the main
ridge, whence he saw the peak towards which all our efforts had been di-
rected, towering eight or ten hundred feet into the air above him. In the
mean time, finding myself grow rather worse than better, and doubtful how
far my strength would carry me, I sent Basil Lajeunesse, with four men,
back to the place where the mules had been left.

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

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

69

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diameter, and apparently very deep. These lay in a kind of chasm; and,
according to the barometer, we had attained but a few hundred feet above
the Island lake. The barometer here stood at 20.450, attached thermome-
ter 70°. ♦

We managed to get our mules up to a little bench about a hundred feet
above the lakes, where there was a patch of good grass, and turned them
loose to graze. During our rough ride to this place, they had exhibited a
wonderful surefootedness. Parts of the defile were filled with angular,
shar.p fragments of rock, three or four and eight or ten feet cube; and among
these they had worked their way, leaping from one narrow point to another,
rarely making a false step, and giving us no occasion to dismount. Having
divested ourselves of every unnecessary encumbrance, we commenced the
ascent. This time, like experienced travellers, we did not press ourselves,
but climbed leisurely, sitting down so soon as we found breath beginning
to fail. At intervals we reached places where a number of springs gushed
from the rocks, and about 1,800 feet above the lakes came to the snow line.
From this point our progress was uninterrupted climbing. Hitherto I had
worn a pair of thick moccasins, with soles of parfleche; but here I put on
a light thin pair, which I had brought for the purpose, as now the use of
our toes became necessary to a further advance. I availed myself of a sort
of comb of the mountain, which stood against the wall like a buttress, and
which the wind and the solar radiation, joined to the steepness of the smooth
rock, had kept almost entirely free from snow. Up this I made my way
rapidly. Our cautious method of advancing in the outset had spared my
strength ; and, with the exception of a slight disposition to headache, I felt
no remains of yesterday’s illness. In a few minutes we reached a point
where the buttress was overhanging, and there was no other way of sur-
mounting the difficulty than by passing around one side of it, which was
the face of a vertical precipice of several hundred feet.

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

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It was a strange place, the icy” rock and the highest peak of the Rocky
mountains, for a lover of warm sunshine and flowers ; and we pleased our-
selves with the idea that he was the first of his species to cross the mountain
barrier — a solitary pioneer to foretell the advance of civilization. I believe
that a moment’s thought would have made us let him continue his way un-
harmed ; but we carried out the law of this country, where all animated na-
ture seems at war ; and, seizing him immediately, put him in at least a fit
place — in the leaves of a large book, among the flowers we had collected
on our way. The barometer stood at 1S.293, the attached thermometer at
44°: giving for the elevation of this summit 13,570 feet above the Gulf of
Mexico, which may be called the highest flight of the bee. It is certainly
the highest known flight of that insect. From the description given by
Mackenzie of the mountains where he crossed them, with that of a French
officer still farther to the north, and Colonel Long’s measurements to the
south, joined to the opinion of the oldest traders of the country, it is pre-
sumed that this is the highest peak of the Rocky mountains. The day was
sunny and bright, but a slight shining mist hung over the lower plains,
which interfered with our view of the surrounding country. On one side
we overlooked innumerable lakes and streams, the spring of the Colorado of
the Gulf of California ; and on the other was the Wind river valley, where
were the heads of the Yellowstone branch of the Missouri ; far to the north,
we just could discover the snowy heads of the Trois Tetons, where were
the sources of the Missouri and Columbia rivers; and at the southern ex-
tremity of the ridge, the peaks were plainly visible, among which were
some of the springs of the Nebraska or Platte river. Around us, the whole
scene had one main striking feature, which was that of terrible convulsion.
Parallel to its length, the ridge was split into chasms and fissures; between
which rose the thin lofty walls, terminated with slender minarets and
columns, which is correctly represented in the view from the camp on
Island lake. According to the barometer, the little crest of the wall on which
we stood was three thousand five hundred and seventy feet above that place,
and two thousand seven hundred and eighty above the little lakes at the
bottom, immediately at our feet. Our camp at the Two Hills (an astro-
nomical station) bore south 3° east, which, with a bearing afterward ob-
tained from a fixed position, enabled us to locate the peak. The bearing
of the Trois- Tetons was north 50° west, and the direction of the central
ridge of the Wind river mountains south 39° east. The summit rock was
gneiss, succeeded by sienitic gneiss. Sienite and feldspar succeeded in
our descent to the snow line, where we found a feldspathic granite. I had
remarked that the noise produced by the explosion of our pistols had the
usual degree of loudness, but was not in the least prolonged, expiring al-
most instantaneously. Having now made what observations our means
afforded, we proceeded to descend. We had accomplished an object of
laudable ambition, and beyond the strict order of our instructions. We
had climbed the loftiest peak of the Rocky mountains, and looked down
upon the snow a thousand feet below, and, standing where never human
foot had stood before, felt the exultation of first explorers. It was about 2
o’clock when we left the summit ; and when we reached the bottom, the sun
had already sunk behind the wall, and the day was drawing to a close. It
would have been pleasant to have lingered here and on the summit longer;
but we hurried away as rapidly as the ground would permit, for it was an

71 [ 174 ]

object to regain our party as soon as possible, not knowing what accident
the next hour might bring forth.

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

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

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

August 19. — We left our camp on Little Sandy river about 7 in the
morning, and traversed the same sandy, undulating country. The air was
filled with the turpentine scent of the various artemisias , which are now
in bloom, and, numerous as they are, give much gayety to the landscape
of the plains. At 10 o’clock, we stood exactly on the divide in the pass,
where the wagon road crosses, and, descending immediately upon the S weet
Water, halted to take a meridian observation of the sim. The latitude was
42° 24' 32'\ v

In the course of the afternoon we saw buffalo again, and at our evening
halt on the Sweet Water the roasted ribs again made their appearance
around the fires ; and, with them, good humor, and laughter, and song, were
restored to t 'e camp Our coffee had been expended, but we now made a
kird of lea from the roots of the wild cherry tree.

August 23. — Yesterday evening we reached our encampment at Rock
Independence, wher i I took some astronomical observations. Here, not

72

[ 1?4 ]

unmindful of the custom of early travellers and explorers in our country,
I engraved on this rock of the Far West a symbol of the Christian faith.
Among the thickly inscribed names, I made on the hard granite the im-
pression of a large cross, which I covered with a black preparation of India
rubber, well calculated to resist the influence of wind and rain. It stands
amidst the names of many who have long since found their way to the
grave, and for whom the huge rock is a giant gravestone.

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

In obedience to my instructions to survey the river Platte, if possible, I
had determined to make an attempt at this place. The India-rubber boat
was filled with air, placed in the water, and loaded with what was neces-
sary for our operations; and I embarked with Mr. Preuss and a party of
men. When we had dragged our boat for a mile or two over the sands, I
abandoned the impossible undertaking, and waited for the arrival of the
party, when we packed up our boat and equipage, and at 9 o’clock were
again moving along on our land journey. We continued along the valley
on the right bank of the Sweet Water, where the formation, as already de-
scribed, consists of a grayish micaceous sandstone, and fine-grained con-
glomerate, and marl. We passed over a ridge which borders or constitutes
the river hills of the Platte, consisting of huge blocks, sixty or eighty feet
cube, of decomposing granite. The cement which united them was proba-
bly of easier decomposition, and has disappeared and left them isolate, and
separated by small spaces. Numerous horns of the mountain goat were
lying among the rocks ; and in the ravines were cedars, whose trunks were
of extraordinary size. From this ridge we descended to a small open plain
at the mouth of the Sweet Water, which rushed with a rapid current into
the Platte, here flowing along in a broad, tranquil, and apparently deep
stream, which seemed, from its turbid appearance, to be considerably
swollen. I obtained here some astronomical observations, and the after-
noon was spent in getting oiir boat ready for navigation the next day.

August 24. — We started before sunrise, intending to breakfast at Goat
island. I had directed the land party, in charge of Bernier, to proceed to
this place, where they were to remain, should they find no note to apprize
them of our having passed. In the event of receiving this information,
they were to continue their route, passing by certain places which had been
designated. Mr. Preuss accompanied me, and with us were five of my
best men, viz: C. "'Lambert, Basil Lajeunesse, Honore Ayot, Benoist, and
Descoteaux. Here appeared no scarcity of water, and we took on board,
with various instruments and baggage, provisions for ten or twelve days.
We paddled down the river rapidly, for our little craft was light as a duck
on the water; and the sun had been sometime risen, when we heard before
us a hollow roar, which we supposed to be that of a fall, of which we had
heard a vague rumor, but whose exact locality no one had been able to de-
scribe tc us. We were approaching a ridge, through which the river passes

73

[ 174 ]

by a place called “ canon, ” (pronounced /canyon,) a Spanish word, signify-
ing a piece of artillery, the barrel of a gun, or any kind of tube ; and
which, in this country, has been adopted to describe the passage of a' river
between perpendicular rocks of great height, which frequently approach
each other so closely overhead as to form a kind of tunnel over the stream,
which foams along below, half choked up by fallen fragments. Between
the mouth of the Sweet Water and Goat island, there is probably a fall of
300 feet, and that was principally made in the canons before us ; as, with-
out them, the water was comparatively smooth. As we neared the ridge,
the river made a sudden turn, and swept squarely down against one of the
walls of the canon with a great velocity, and so steep a descent, that it had,
to the eye, the appearance of an inclined plane. When we launched into
this, the men jumped overboard, to check the velocity of the boat, but were
soon in water up to their necks, and our boat ran on ; but we succeeded in
bringing her to a small point of rocks on the right, at the mouth of the
canon. Here was a kind of elevated sand beach, not many yards square,
backed by the rocks, and around the point the river swept at a right angle.
Trunks of trees deposited on jutting points 20 or 30 feet above, and other
marks, showed that the water here frequently rose to a considerable height.
The ridge was of the same decomposing granite already mentioned, and
the water had worked the surface, in many places, into a wavy surface of
ridges and holes. We ascended the rocks to reconnoitre the ground, and
from the summit the passage appeared to be a continued cataract foaming
over many obstructions, and broken by a number of small falls. We saw
nowhere a fall answering to that which had been described to us as having
20 or 25 feet ; but still concluded this to be the place in question, as, in the
season of floods, the rush of the river against the wall would produce a
great rise, and the waters, reflected squarely off, would descend through the
passage in a sheet of foam, having every appearance of a large fall. Eigh-
teen years previous to this time, as I have subsequently learned from him-
self, Mr. Fitzpatrick, somewhere above on this river, had embarked with a
valuable cargo of beaver. Unacquainted with the stream, which he be-
lieved would conduct him safely to the Missouri, he came unexpectedly into
this canon, where ho was wrecked, with the total loss of his furs. At would
have been a work of great time and labor to pack our baggage across the
ridge, and I determined to run the canon. We all again embarked, and at
first attempted to check the way of the boat ; but the water swept through
with so much violence that we narrowly escaped being swamped, and were
obliged to let her go in the full force of the current, and trust to the skill of
the boatmen. The dangerous places in this canon were where huge rocks
had fallen from above, and hemmed in the already narrow pass of the
river to an open space of three or four and five feet. These obstructions
raised the water considerably above, which was sometimes precipitated over
in a fall ; and at other places, where this dam was too high, rushed through
the contracted opening with tremendous violence. Had our boat been
made of wood, in passing the narrows she would have been staved ; but
her elasticity preserved her unhurt from every shock, and she seemed fairly
to leap over the falls.

In this way we passed three cataracts in succession, where, perhaps 100
feet of smooth water intervened ; and, finally, with a shout of pleasure at
our success, issued from our tunnel into the open day beyond. We were
so delighted with the performance of our boat, and so confident in her

74

1

[ 174 ]

powers, that we would not have hesitated to leap a fall of ten feet with her.
We put to shore for breakfast at some willows on the right bank, immedi- ja
ately below the mouth of the canon ; for it was now 8 o’clock, and we had H
been working since daylight, and were all wet, fatigued, and hungry.
While the men were preparing breakfast, I went out to reconnoitre. The 1
view was very limited. The course of the river was smooth, so far as I
could see; on both sides were broken hills; and but a mile or two below
was another high ridge. The rock at the mouth of the canon was still the
decomposing granite, with great quantities of mica, which made a very
glittering sand.

We re-embarked at 9 o’clock, and in about twenty minutes reached the
next canon. Landing on a rocky shore at its commencement, we ascended
the ridge to reconnoitre. Portage was out of the question. So far as we
could see, the jagged rocks pointed out the course of the canon, on a wind-
ing line of seven or eight miles. It was simply a narrow, dark chasm in
the rock ; and here the perpendicular faces were much higher than in the
previous pass, being at this end two to three hundred, and further down, as
we afterwards ascertained, five hundrejd feet in vertical height. Our pre-
vious success had made us bold, and we determined again to run the canon.
Every thing was secured as firmly as possible ; and having divested our-
selves of the greater part of our clothing, we pushed into the stream. To
save our chronometer from accident, Mr. Preuss took it, and attempted to
proceed along the shore on the masses of rock, which in places were piled ~
up on either side; but, after he had walked about five minutes, every thing
like shore disappeared, and the vertical wall came squarely down into the
water. He therefore waited until we came up An ugly pass lay before us.
We had made fast to the stern of the boat a strong rope about fifty feet long;
and three of the men clambered along among the rocks, and with this rope
let her down slowly through the pass. In several places high rocks lay scat-
tered about in the channel ; and in the narrows it required all our strength
and skill to avoid staving the boat on the sharp points. In one of these, the
boat proved a little too broad, and stuck fast for an instant, while the water
flew over us; fortunately, it was but for an instant, as our united strength
forced her immediately through. The water swept overboard only a sextant
and a pair of saddlebags. I caught the sextant as it passed by me ; but the
saddlebags became the prey of the whirlpools. We reached the place where
Mr. Preuss was standing, took him on board, and, with the aid of the boat,
put the men with the rope on the succeeding pile of rocks. We found this
passage much worse than the previous one, and our position was rather a bad
one. To go back, was impossible ; before us, the cataract was a sheet of
foam ; and shut up in the chasm by the rocks, which, in some places, seemed
almost to meet overhead, the roar of the water was' deafening. We pushed
off again ; but, after making a little distance, the force of the current became
too great for the men on shore, and two of them let go the rope. Lajeunesse,
the third man, hung on, and was jerked headforemost-into the river from a
rock about twelve feet high ; and down the boat shot like an arrow, Basil
following us in the rapid current, and exerting all his strength to keep in
mid channel — his head only seen occasionally like a black spot in the white N
foam. How far we went, I do not exactly know ; but we succeeded in turn-
ing the boat into an eddy below “ ’ Cre Dieu ,” said Bash Lajeunesse, as
he arrived immediately after us, uJe crois bien que j\ii nag£ an demi mile
He had owed his life to his skill as a swimmer; and I determined to take

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[ 174 ]

him and the two others on board, and trust to skill and fortune to reach the
other end in safety. We placed ourselves on our knees, with the short
paddies in our hands, the most skilful boatman being at the bow; and
again we commenced our rapid descent. We cleared rock after rock, and
shot past fall after fall, our little boat seeming to play with the cataract.
We became flushed with success, and familiar with the danger ; and, yield-
ing to the excitement of the occasion, broke forth together into a Canadian
boat song. Singing, or rather shouting, we dashed along; and were, I
believe, in the midst of the chorus, when the boat struck a concealed rock
immediately at the foot of a fall, which whirled her over in an instant.
Three of my men could not swim, and my first feeling was to assist them,
and save some of our effects; but a sharp concussion or two convinced me
that I had not yet saved myself. A few strokes brought me into an eddy,
and I lauded on a pile of rocks on the left side. Looking around, I saw that
Mr. Preuss had gained the shore on the same side, about twenty yards
below ; aud a little climbing and swimming soon brought him to my side.
On the opposite side, against the wall, lay the boat bottom up ; and Lambert
'was in the act of saving Descoteau^’ whom he had grasped by the hair,
and who could not swim : “Lachepas” said he, as I afterward learned,
u lache pas, cher frkre.” “Crains pas” was the reply, u Je rrden vais
mourir avant quc de te lacher.” Such was the reply of courage and
generosity in this danger. For a hundred yards below, the current was cov-
ered with floating books and boxes, bales of blankets, and scattered articles
of clothing; and so strong and boiling was the stream, that even our heavy
instruments, which were all in cases, kept on the surface, and the sextant,
circle, and the long black box of the telescope, were in view at once. For
a moment, I felt somewhat disheartened. All our books — almost every
record of the journey — our journals and registers of astronomic^ and bar-
ometrical observations — had been lost in a moment. But it was no time to
indulge in regrets; and I immediately set about endeavoring to save some-
thing from the wreck. Making ourselves understood as well as possible by
signs, (for nothing could be heard in the roar of waters,) we commenced our
operations. Of every thing on board, the only article that had been saved
was my double barrelled gun, which Descoteaux had caught, and clung to
withdrowning tenacity. The men continued down the river on the left bank,
Mr. Preuss and myself descended on the side we were on; and Lajeunesse,
with a paddle in his hand, jumped on the boat alone, and continued down
the canon. She was now light, and cleared every bad place with much less
difficulty. In a short time, he was joined by Lambert ; and the search was
continued for about a mile and a half, which was as far as the boat could
proceed in the pass.

Here the walls were about five hundred feet high, and the fragmentsof
rocks from above had choked the riverinto a hollow pass, but one or two
feet above the surface. Through this and the interstices of the rock, the wa-
ter found its way. Favored beyond our expectations, all of our registers had
been recovered, with the exception of one of my journals, which contained
the notes and incidents of travel, and topographical descriptions, a number of
scattered astronomical observations, principally meridian altitudes of the
sun, and our barometrical register west of Laramie. . Fortunately, our other
journals contained duplicates of the most important barometrical observa-
tions which had bpen taken in the mountains. These, with a few scattered
notes, were all that had .been preserved of our meteorological observations.

76

[ 174 ]

In addition to these, we saved the circle ; and these, with a few blankets
constituted every thing that had been rescued from the waters. ’

The day was running rapidly away, and it was necessary to reach Goat
island, whither the party had preceded us, before night. In this uncertain
country, the traveller is so muc'h in the power of chance, that we became
**neasy 111 regard to them. Should any thing have occurred, in
the buef interval of our separation, to prevent our rejoining them, our situ-
ation would be rather a desperate one. We had not a morsel of provisions-
our arms and ammunition were gone — and we were entirely at the mercv
w “aT straSgllng- I,arty of savages, and not a little in danger of starvation.
YVe therefore set out at once in two parties. Mr. Preuss and myself on the
ten, and the men on the opposite side of the river. Climbing out of the
canon, we found ourselves in a very broken country, where we were not
yet able to recognise any locality. In the course of our descent thron°-h
the canon, the rock, which at the upper end was of the decomposing granite
changed into a varied sandstone formation. The hills and points of the
ridges were covered with fragments of a yellow sandstone, of which the

strata were sometimes displayed in the broken ravines which interrupted

our course, and made our walk extremely fatiguing. At one point of the

canon the red argillaceous sandstone rose in a wall of five hundred feet
surmounted by a stratum of white sandstone ; and in an opposite ravine a

fiftv feet°hiJhd STh S‘0ne f°Se’ 1,1 f°™ lik<; a steePle> about one hundred and
K rX The scenery was extremely picturesque, and.notwithstand-

Onr nr«f condition, we were frequently obliged to stop and admire it

naked .IT® WaS "0t Very ,rar>ld- „We had emerged from the water half
naked, and, on arriving at the top of the precipice, I found mvself with onlv

one moccasin. The fragments of rock made walking painf”! andfwas
quently obliged to stop and pull out the thorns of the cactus, here thepre-

mv feftP aFmm a f®W rainutes’ walk co™red the bottom of

ny leet. From this ridge the river emerged into a smiling prairie and de

spending to the bank for water, we were “joined by Benoit. Tto rest Of

the party were out of sight, having taken a more inland route. We crossed

clhnbJdernveped' 3d|y-somretimes able ford it, and sometimes swimming-
climbed over the ridges of two more canons, and towards eveninc reached

n iX’ it ,We P°re nardthe H0t SPri"§ Sate- On our previous vis J
in Jul}, we had not entered this pass, reserving it for our descent in thp

feer5 ^"d When WTTent^ed k this evening, Mr. Preuss was a few hundred
fine h MdVanCe' Heated witli the long march, he came suddenly upon a
fine bold spring gushing from the rock, about ten feet above lire river

,fnlml.rnJOyt'i?rC7Stra water’,he himself down for a hasty draught!

no^ wLaim1Uhhf ;7,Water a,”°f boUil1? hot- He said nothing to Be-
notst, who laid himself down to drink ; but the steam from the water arrest-
ed his eagerness, and he escaped the hot draught. We had no thermometer
to ascertain the temperature, but I could hold my hand in the water iust lon<*
enough to count two seconds. There are eight or ten of thele spring! dil
charging themselves by streams large enough to be called runs. A lold’hol-

folTnf 1!Se W1S hem!d fr°m tbe rock’ which 1 suPPOsed to be produced by the
fall of the water. 1 he strata immediately where they issue is a fine whiteand

fnlThf«0ThSandStOIJe’ C7Td With an illcrustation of common salt. Leav-
tng this rhermopyla; of the west, in a short walk we reached the red ridge
which has been described as lying just above Goat Island. Ascending thfs
we found some fresh tracks and a button, which showed that the othe? men

77

[ 174 ]

had already arrived. A shout from the man who first reached the top of
the ridge, responded to from below, informed us that our friends were all
on the island ; and we were soon among them. We found some pieces of
buffalo standing around the fire for us, and managed to get some dry clothes
among the people. A sudden storm of rain drove us into the best shelter
we could find, where we slept soundly, after one of the most fatiguing
days I have ever experienced.

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

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

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

We halted for a short time on the afternoon of the 5th with a village of
Sioux Indians, some of whose chiefs we had met at Laramie. The water
in the Platte was extremely low ; in many places, the large expanse of
sands, with some occasional stunted trees on the banks, gave it the air of
the seacoast; the bed of the river being merely a succession of sandbars,
among which the channel was divided into rivulets a few inches deep.
We crossed and recrossed with our carts repeatedly and at our pleasure ;
and, whenever an obstruction barred our way, in the shape of precipitous
bluffs that came down upon the river, we turned directly into it, and made
our way along the sandy bed, with no other inconvenience than the fre-
quent quicksands,, which greatly fatigued our animals. Disinterring on the
way the cache which had been made by our party when they ascended the
river, we reached without accident, on the evening of the 12th of Septem-
ber, our old encampment of the 2d of July, at the junction of the forks.
Our cache of the barrel of pork was found undisturbed, and proved a sea*

sonable addition to our stock of provisions. At this place I had determined
to make another attempt to descend the Piatte by water, and accordingly j
spent two days in the construction of a bull boat. Men were sent out on
the evening of our arrival, the necessary number of bulls killed, and their
skins brought to the camp. Four of the best of them were strongly sewed
together with buffalo sinew, and stretched over a basket frame of willow. 1
The seams were then covered with ashes and tallow, and the boat left ex-
posed to the sun for the greater part of one day, which was sufficient to
dry and contract the skin, and make the whole work solid and strong. It
had a rounded bow, was eight feet long and five broad, and drew with
four men about four inches water. On the morning of the 15th we em-
barked in our hide boat, Mr. Preuss and myself, with two men. We
dragged her over the sands for three or four miles, and then left her on a
bar, and abandoned entirely all further attempts to navigate this river. The
names given by the Indians are always remarkably appropriate; and cer-
tainly none was ever more so than that which they have given to this
stream — “the Nebraska, or Shallow river.” Walking steadily the remain-
der of the day, a little before dark we overtook our people at their even-
ing camp, about twenty-one miles below the junction. The next morning
we crossed the Platte, and continued our way down the river bottom on
the left bank, where we found an excellent plainly beaten road.

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

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

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

Five or six days previously, I had sent forward C. Lambert, with two men,
to Bellevue, with directions to ask from Mr. P. Sarpy the gentleman in charge
of the American Company’s establishment at that place, the aid of his carpen-
ters in constructing a boat, in which I proposed to descend the Missouri. On
the afternoon of the 27th we met one of the men, who had been despatched
by Mr. Sarpy with a welcome supply of provisions and a very kind note,
which gave us the very gratifying intelligence that our boat was in rapid!
progress. On the evening of the 30th we encamped hi an almost impene-

79

[ 174 ]

trable undergrowth on the left bank of the Platte, in the point of land at its
confluence with the Missouri — three hundred and fifteen miles, according
to our reckoning, from the junction of the forks, and five hundred and
twenty from Fort Laramie.

From the junction we had found the bed of the Platte occupied with nu-
merous islands, many of them very large, and all well timbered ; possess-
ing, as well as the bottom lands of the river, a very excellent soil. With
the exception of some scattered groves on the banks, the bottoms are gen-
erally without timber, A portion of these consist of low grounds, covered
with a profusion of fine grasses, and are probably inundated in the spring;
the remaining part is high river prairie, entirely beyond the influence of
the floods. The breadth of the river is usually three-quarters of a mile,
except where it is enlarged by islands. That poriion of its course which
is occupied by Grand island has an average breadth, from shore to shore,
of two and a half miles. The breadth of the valley, with the various ac-
cidents of ground — springs, timber, and whatever I have thought interest-
ing to travellers and settlers — you will find indicated on the larger map
which accompanies this report.

October 3. — I rose this morning long before daylight, and heard with a
feeling of pleasure the tinkling of cow bells at the settlements on the op-
posite side of the Missouri. Early in the day we reached Mr. Sarpy’s
residence; and, in the security and comfort of his hospitable mansion, felt
the pleasure of being again within the pale of civilization. We found our
boat on the stocks ; a few days sufficed to complete her ; and, in the af-
ternoon of the 4th, we embarked on the Missouri. All our equipage — >
horses, carts, and the materiel of the camp — had been sold at public auc-
tion at Bellevue. The strength of my party enabled me to man the boat
with ten oars, relieved every hour; and we descended rapidly. Early on
the morning of the 10th, we halted to make some astronomical observa-
tions at the mouth of the Kansas, exactly four months since we had left
the trading post of Mr. Cyprian Chouteau, on the same river, ten miles
above. On our descent to this place, we had employed ourselves in sur-
veying and sketching the Missouri, making astronomical observations reg-
ularly at night and at midday, whenever the weather permitted. These
operations on the river were continued until our arrival at the city of St.
Louis, Missouri, on the 17th; and will be found, unbodied with other re-
sults, on the map and in the appendices which accompany this report. At
St. Louis, the sale of our remaining effects was m ide; and, leaving that
city by steamboat on the 1 Sth , I had the honor to report to you at the city
of Washington on the 29th of October.

Very respectfully, sir, your obedient servant,

J. C. FREMONT,

2d Lieut, Corps of Topographical Engineers .

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CATALOGUE OF PLANTS

COLLECTED

BY LIEUTENANT FREMONT,

IN HIS

EXPEDITION TO THE EOCKY MOUNTAINS.

BY JOHN TORREY.

#

PREFACE

The collection of plants submitted to me for examination, though made under unfavorable
circumstances, is a very interesting contribution to North American botany. From the mouth of
the Kansas river to the “ Red Buttes, ” on the North fork of the Platte, the transportation was
effected in carts ; but from that place to and from the mountains, the explorations were made on
horseback, and by such rapid movements, (which were necessary, in order to accomplish the objects
of tile expedition,) that but little opportunity was afforded for collecting and drying botanical speci-
mens. Besides, the party was in a savage and inhospitable country, sometimes annoyed by Indians,
and frequently in great distress from want of provisions ; from which circumstances, and the many
pressing, duties that constantly engaged the attention of the commander, he was not able to make so
large a collection as he desired. To give some general idea of the country explored by Lieutenant
Frempnt, I recapitulate, from his report, a brief sketch of his route. The expedition left the mouth of
the Kansas on the 10th of June, 1842, and, proceeding up that river about one hundred miles, then
continued ‘its course generally along the “ bottoms” of the Kansas tributaries, but sometimes passing
over the upper prairies. The soil of the river bottoms is always rich, and generally well timbered ?
though the whole region is what is called a prairie country. The upper prairies are an immense
deposite of sand and gravel, covered with* a good, and, very generally, a rich soil. Along the road,
on reaching the little stream called Sandy creek, (a tributary of the Kansas,) the soil became more
sandy. The rock formations of this region are limestone and sandstone. The amqrphq canescens
was the characteristic plant ; it being in many places as abundant as the grass.

Crossing over fronj the waters of the Kansas, Lieutenant Fremont arrived at the Great Platte,
two hundred and ten miles from its junction with the Missouri. The valley of this river, from its
mouth to the great forks, is about four miles broad, and three hundred and fifteen miles long. It
is rich, well timbered, and covered with luxuriant grasses. The purple liatris scariosa , and several
asters , were here conspicuous features of the vegetation. I was pleased to recognise, among the
specimens collected near the forks, the fiii| , large-flowered asclepias, that I described many years
ago in my account of James’s Rocky Mountain Plants, under the name of A. speciosa, and which
Mr. Geycr also found in Nicollet’s expedition. It seems to be the plant subsequently described and
figured by Sir W. Hooker, tinder the name of A. Douglasii. On the Lower Platte, and all the
way to the Sweet Water, the showy cleome iniegrifolia occurred in abundance. From the Forks
to Laramie river, a distance of about two hundred miles, the country may be called a sandy one.
The valley of the North fork is without timber ; but the grasses are fine, «nd the herbaceous plants
abundant. On the return of the expedition in September, Lieutenant Fremont says the whole
country resembled, a vast garden 5 but the prevailing plants were two or three species of helianthus ,
(sunflower.) Between the main forks of the Platte, from the junction, as high up as Laramie’s
fork, the formation consisted of marl, a soft earthy limestone, and a granite sandstone. At the
latter place, that singular leguminous plant, the kentrophyta raontana of Nuttall was first seen,
and then occurred at intervals to the Sweet Water river. Following up the North fork, Lieutenant
Fremont arrived at the mouth of the Sweet Water river, one of the head waters of the Platte.
Above Laramie’s fork to this place, the soil is generally sandy. The rocks consist of limestone,
I with a variety of sandstones, (yellow, gray, and red argillaceous,) with compact gypsum or alabas-
ter, and fine conglomerates.

84

[ 174 ]

The route along the North fork of the Platte afforded some of the best plants in the collection.
The senecio rapi folia, Nutt., occurred in many places, quite to the Sweet Water ; lippia ( zapania )
cuneifolia (Torr. in James’s plants, only known before from Dr. James’s collection ;) ctr cocarp us par-
vifolius , Nutt. ; eriogonum parvifulium, and coespitosum , Nutt.; shepherdia argentca, Nutt.,
and geranium Fremontii , a new species, (near the Red Buttes,) were found in this part of the
journey. In saline soils, on the Upper Platte, near the mouth of the Sweet Water, were collected
several interesting Chenofodiace®, One of which was first discovered by Dr. James, in Long’s
expedition ; and although it was considered as a new genus, I did not describe it, owing to the want
of the ripe fruit. It is the plant doubtfully referred by Hooker, in his Flora Boreali Americana,
to Batis He had seen the male flowers only. As it is certainly a new genus, I have dedicated it
to the excellent commander of the expedition, as a well-merited compliment for the services he has
rendered North American botany.

The Sweet Water valley is a sandy plain, about one hundred and twenty miles long, and gen-
erally abput five miles broad ; bounded by ranges of granitic mountains, between which the valley
formation consists, near the Devil’s gate, of ^ grayish micaceous sandstone, with marl and white
clay. At the encampment of August 5th- 6th, there occurred h fine white argillaceous sandstone,
a coarse sandstone or pudding-stone, and a white calcareous sandstone. A few miles to the west
of that position. Lieutenant Fremont reached a point where the sandstone rested immediately upon
the granite, which, thenceforward, along his line of route, alternated with a compact mica slate.

Along the Sweet Water, many interesting plants were collected, as may be seen by an examina-
tion of the catalogue ; I would, however, mention the curious cenothera Nuttallii , Torr. and Gr. ;
eurotiu lunata, Mocq. ; (Diotis lanata, Pursh ,) which seems to be distinct from E. ceratoides ;
thermopsis montana, Nutt. ; gilia pulchella, Dougl. ; senecio spartioides, Torr. and Gr. ; a new
species, and four or five species of wild currants, ( [ribes irriguum, Dougl., &c ) Near the mouth
of the Sweet Water was found the plantago eriophora , Torr., a species first described in my Dr.
James’s Rocky Mountain Plants. On the upper part, and near the dividing ridge, were collected
several species of castilleja penistemon micrautha, Nutt.; several gentians the pretty little
androsace occidentals, Nutt. ; solidago incana, Torr, and Gr. ; and two species of eriogonum ,
one of which was new.

On the 8th of August, the exploring party crossed the dividing ridge or pass* and found the soil
of the plains at the foot of the mountains, on the western side, to be sandy. From Laramie’s fork
to this point, different species of artemisia were the prevailing and characteristic plants ; occupying
the place of the grasses, and filling the air with the odor of camphor and turpentine. Along Little
Sandy, a tributary of the Colorado of the West, were collected a new species o f'pkaca ( P. digi-
iata, ) and parnassia Jinibriata. •

On the morning of the 10th of August, they entered the defiles of the Wind river mountains, a
spur of the Rocky mountains, or northern Andes, and among which they spent about eight days.
On the borders of a lake, embosomed in one of the defiles, were collected sedum rhodiola , DC.,
(which had been found before, south of Kotzebue’s sound, only by Dr. James ;) senecio hydrophi-
lus, Nutt: ; Vaccinium uliginosum ; beiula glandulosa, and B. accident alls, Hook.; eleagnus
argentea , and shepherdia Canadensis. Some of the higher peaks of the Wind river mountains
rise one thousand feet above the limits of perpetual snow. Lieutenant Fremont, attended by four
of his men, ascended one of the loftiest peaks on the 15th of August. On this he found the snow
line twelve thousand five hundred feet above the level of the sea. The vegetation of the mountains
is truly alpine, embracing a considerable number of species common to both hemispheres, as well
as some that are peculiar to North America. Of the former, Lieutenant Fremont collected pleura
alpinutn ; oxyriareniformis ; Veronica alpina ; several species of salix ; carexatrata ; C. panicea,*
and, immediately below the line of perpetual congelation, silent acaulis, and polemonium ceeruleum ,

/? Hook Among the alpine plants peculiar to the western hemisphere, there were found oreophila
myrtifolia, Nutt. ; aquihgia coerulea , Torr. ; pedicu/aris surrccta, Benth. ; pulmonaria ciliaia,
James ; silene Brummondii, Hook. ; menziesia empetriformis, potentilla gracilis , Dougl. ; sev«

85

[ 174 ]

eral species oipinus; frasera speciosa , Hook. ; dodecatheon den latum , ITook. ^ phlox muscoides ,
Nutt. ; senecio Fremontii , n. sp., Torr. and Gr. ; four or five asters, and vaccinium myrtilloides ,
Mx. ; the last seven or eight very near the snow line. Lower down the mountain were found
arnica angustifolia , Vahl. ; senecio triangularis. Hook. • S. subnudus, DC. ; macrorhynchus
troximoides , Torr. and Gr. ; helianthella uni/loray Torr. and Gr. ; and linosyris viscidijlora.
Hook.

The expedition left the Wind river mountains about the 18th of August, returning by the same
route as that by which it ascended, except that it continued its course through the whole length of
the Lower Platte, arriving at its junction with the Missouri on the 1st of October.

As the plants of Lieutenant Fremont were under examination while the last part of the Flora of
Nt>rth America was in the press, nearly all the new matter relating to the Composite was inserted
in that work. Descriptions of a few of the new species were necessarily omitted, owing to the
report of the expedition having been called for by Congress before I could finish the necessary analyses
and comparisons. These, however, will be inserted in the successive numbers of the. work to
which I have just alluded.

JOHN TORREY.

New Yohk, March , 1843.

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CATALOGUE OF PLANTS.

Class I.— EXOGENOUS PLANTS.

RAlJUN C UL ACE^E .

Clematis Virginiana, (Linn.) Valley of the Platte. June, July.

Ranunculus sceleratus , (Linn.) Valley of the Sweet Water river. August 18-20.

cymbalaria , (Pursh.) Upper Platte. July 31, August.

Aquilegia coerulea, (Torr. ) Wind river mountains* August 13-16.

Act cea rubra, ( Bigel.) Upper Platte. August 26-31.

Thalictrum Comuti , (Linn.) Platte.

T% megacarpym , n. sp. Upper Platte. August 26-31.

MENISPERM ACEJ3 .

Menispermum Canadense , (Linn.) Leaves only. On the Platte.

BERBERIDACE^E.

Berberis aquifolium, (Torr. and Gr.) Wind river mountains. August 13-16.

PAPAVERACE.E.

Argemone Mexicana (3 albijlora , (DC.) Forks of the Platte. July 2.

CRUCIFER.E.

Nasturtium palustre, (DC.) Black hills of the Platte. July 26, August.

Erysimum cheiranthoides, (Linn.) Black hills. July 23.

E. asperum, (Nutt.) South fork of the Platte. July 4.

Pachypodium, ( Thely podium, Endl. Gen. p. 876,) integrifolium , (Nutt.) North fork of the
Platte. September 4. Var. with longer pods. With the preceding.

Vesicaria didymocarpa , (Hook.) Leaves only. North fork of the Platte, above the Red Buttes.
July 30.

Braya, n. sp. Wind river mountains, near the limits of perpetual snow. August 15.

Lepidium ruderale, (Linn.) On the Platte. June 29.

CAPPARIDACEiE.

Cleomp integrifolia, (Torr. and Gr.) From the Lower Platte nearly to the mountains. June 29,
July 2, August 21.

Polanisia trachysperma , /? (Torr. and Gr.) Black hills of the Platte. July 23.

POLYGALACE.E.

Poly gala alba, (Nutt.) P. Beyrichii, (Torr. and Gr.) Forks of the Platte. July 2.

DROSERACEJ3.

Pamassiajimbriata, (Banks.) Little Sandy creek, defiles of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 8.

CARYOPHYLLACEjE.

Arenavia congesta , (Nutt.) Highest parts of the Wind river mountains. August 13-16.

Silene Drummondii, (Hook.) With the preceding.

5. acaulis, (Linn.) Wind river mountains, at the limits of perpetual snow.

[ 174 ]

88

. PORTULACACE.E.

*Talinum parviflorum, (Nutt.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 26

LINACE.E. *

Linum rigidum, (Pursh.) North fork of the Platte. July 8.

L. pertnne, (Linn.) Black hills to the Sweet Water of the Platte. August 2-31,

GERANIACEiE.

Geranium Fremontii , n. sp. Black hills. August 26-31.

OXALIDACEJ3.

Oxalis strict ay (Linn.) On the Kansas. June. * •

ANACARDIACE-E.

Mhus trilobata, (Nutt.) Red Buttes. July 29.

MA*LVACE/E.

Malva pedata, (Torr. and Gr.) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 21.

M. involucrata, (Torr. and Gr ) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 23.

Sida coccinea , (DC.) Little Blue river to the south fork of the Platte. June 22, July 4.

VITACEJE.

Yttis ripariay (Michx.) Grand island of the Platte. September 19.

ACERACEiE.

Negundo aceroides, (Mcench. ) On the lower part of the Platte.

CELASTRACEiE.

Oreophila my rti folia, (Nutt.) Summit of the Wind river mountains. August 13-14.

RHAMNACEJ3.

Ceanothus velutinus, (Dougl.) With the preceding.

C. Americanus, var. sanguineus. C. sanguineus, (Pursh.) On the Platte.

C. mollissimus , n. sp. Near the Kansas river. June 19.

LEGUMINOS^E.

Lathyrus linearis , (Nutt.) On the Platte, from its confluence with the Missouri to Fort Laramie.
September 2-30.

Amphicarpoea monoica, (Torr. and Gr.) North fork of the Platte. September 4.

Apios tuberosa, (Mcench. ) Forks of the Platte. September 1 3.

Glycyrhiza lepidota, (Pursh.) From near the Kansas river to the Black hills of the Platte. June
21, July 25.

Tsoralea Jloribunda , (Nutt.) Forks of the Platte. July 2.

P. campestris , (Nutt. ?) and a more glabrous variety. With the preceding. July 2.

P. lanceolata , (Pursh.) Black hills of the Platte. July 24.

P. argophyllas (Pursh.) Little Blue river. June 23.

P. tenuijioray (Pursh.) (no flowers.) Forks of the Platte. September 12.

Petalostemon violaceum , (Michx.) Big Blue river of the Kansas, &c. June 21.

P. candidurn , (Michx.) Red Buttes. July 29.

Amorpha fruticosa, (Linn.) From the Lower Platte to the mountains. August 8, September 19*
A. canescensy (Nutt.) Kansas and Lower Platte rivers. June 19, September 20.

Lespedeza capitata , (Michx. ) Mouth of the Platte. September 30.

JDesm odium acuminatum, (DC.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22.

89

C 174 3

Astragalus gracilis, (Nutt.) Forks of the Platte. July 2.

A. moll ssirnus, (Torr.) Valley of the Platte. June 29.

A. hypoglotlis, (Linn.) Sweet Water of the Platte. August 5.

Oxytropis Lambertii , (Pursh.) Big Blue river of the Kansas to the forks of the Platte. June
20, July 2.

O. Plattensis, (Nutt ?) (no flowers.) Goat island of the Upper Platte. July 31.

Phaca astragulina, (DC.) Highest summits of the Wind river mountain. August 15.

P. elegans, (Hook.) var. ? Goat island of the Upper Platte. July 31.

P. ( Orophuca ) digiluta, n. sp. Little Sandy river. August 8.

P. longifolia , (Nutt.) (leaves only.) Wind river mountains. August 12-17.

Kentrophyta mo"tana, (Nutt.) Laramie river to the Sweet Water. July 14, August 5.

Lup nus leucophyllus, (Lindl.) Wind river mountains, and Sweet Water of the Platte. August
4-21.

.<L &rnatus, (Dougl.) L. leucopsis, (Agardh.) With the preceding.

Bapfisia leucantha, (Torr. andGr.) Kansas river.

Thermopsis montana, (Nutt.) Sweet Water river. Augusts.

C ssia chamcecrista, (Linn.) Mouth of the Platte. September 30.

Schrankia uncinala, (Willd.) Kansas and Platte rivers. June 19, September.

Darlingtonia brachypoda, (DC.) On the Platte. September 17.

ROSACEA.

Cerasus Virginiana , (Torr. and Gr.) Upper north fork of the Platte. July 30.

Cercocarpus parvifolius, (Nutt.) Bitter creek, north fork of the Platte. July 22.

Purshia tridentata, (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„
PutentiUa gracilis, (Dougl.) With the preceding.

P. diversi folia , (Lehm. ) Sweet Water of the Platte to the mountains. August 4-15.

P . sertcea, 0 glabrata, (Lehm. ) With the preceding.

P.fruticosa , (Linn.) With the preceding.

P . anserina , (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.

Rubus strigosus, (Michx.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains. August 12-17.

Amelanchier diversi folia, var. alni folia, (Torr. and Gr.) Sweet Water of the Platte. August 5„
Rosablanda, ( Ait.) Lower Platte.

P. foliolosa, (Nutt.) var. leiocarpa. With the preceding.

ONAGRACEiE.

Epilobium coloratum, (Muhl.) Black hills of the Platte to the Sweet Water river. Aug. 4-3JU
E. spicatum , (Lam.) From the Red Buttes to the Wind river mountains. August 13-31.
(Eaotheru albicaulis, (Nutt.) North fork of the Platte. July 14.

Missouriensis , (Sims.) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 19-20.

(E. trichocalyx, (Nutt.) North fork of the Platte. July 30.

(E. serrulata , (Nutt.) On the Kansas and Platte. June, July 14.

(E. rhombibetula, (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. andGr.) Uppe^part of the Sweet Water,

(E. speciosa , (Nutt ) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 19-20.

(E. Drummondii , (Hook. 1) Black hills. July 26.

Gaura cocclnca , (Nutt.) Var. ? Little Blue river of the Kansas, and south fork of the Platte.
June 26, July 4.

[ 174 ]

90

LOASACE.E.

Mcnt zelia nude, (Torn and Gr.) North fork of the Platte. July 14.

GROSSUL ACE/E.

Ribes cereum , (Lindl. ) Sweet Water of the Platte. August 2-4.

R. laeustre , (Pbir.) With the preceding. $ leaves deeply lobed. R. echinatum, “(DiragL) Per-
haps a distinct species.

R. irriguum, (Dougl.) With the preceding.

CACTACE.E.

GpUntia 'Mi&ouriensis, (i)C.) Forks of the Platte. July 2.

CRASSULACE.E. #

Sedum rhodiola, (DC.) On a lake in Wind river mountains. August 12-17.

UMBELLIFERJE .

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.

Folytoenia Nuttallii, (DC.) On the Kansas. June 20.

Siwn ? incisum , n. sp. Stem sulcate; segments of the leaves distant, deeply incised or pinnatified;

the lower teeth or divisions dften elongated and Iindar. North fork of the Platte. July 12.
Edosmia Gardineri, (Torr. andGr. ) Without fruit.

Cicuta mactilata, (Litln.) Lower Pltitte.

Musenium tenuifolium, (Nutt.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains.

CORN ACE JB.

Cornus Utoldnifera, (Michx.) On a hike in the Wind river mountains. August 12-17.

■C. circinata , (L’Her.) On the Platte.

CAPRIFOLIACEJE.

Eymphoricarpus occidentals, (R. Brown.) North fork of the Platte. July 10, August 31.

8. vulgaris, (Michx.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains. August 13-14.

RUBIACEJB.

'Galium boredle, (Linn.) Upper part of the North fork of the Platte. August 12-31.

COMPOSITE.

Vemoniafasciculata , (Michx.) On the Platte.

Liatris scariosa, (Willd.) Lower part of the Platte. September 27.

slpicata, (Willd.) North fork of the Platte. September 4.

Z#. squarrosa, Var. intermedia, (DC.) A small form of the plant. On the Platte,

L. punctata, (Hook. ) Black hills of the Platte. August 29.

Brickellia grandi flora, (Nutt.) North fork of the Platte.

Aster integrifulius, (Nutt.) Base of the Wind river mountains. •

A. adscendens, (Lindl.) Wind river mountains. Var. Fremontii, with the preceding. The
highest summits to the limits of perpetual snow. August 16.

A. laevis, (Linn.) North fork of the Platte.

A. Novi-Be/gii, (Linn.) Sweet Water of t\& Platte. Aiigust 22.

, A. cordifolius, (Linn.) Lower Platte.

A. multijlorus , /? (Torr. and Gr.) Upper Platte, &c.

A.falcatus, (Lindl.) Black hills to the Sweet Water. July 30, August.

A. laxifolius, (Nees.) On the Platte, from its mouth to the forks. September 12-30.

91

[ 174 ]

A. oblongifolius , (Nutt.) Lower Platte, &c.

A. Novae- Angliae, (Linn.) Lower Platte to the Wind river mountains. Aug. 18-Sept. 24.

A. andinus , (Nutt.) Near the snow line of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 16.

A. glacialis, (Nutt.) With the preceding.

A. suhuginosus, (Richards.) With the .preceding.

A. elegans, (Torr. and Gr. ) Wind river mountains.

A. glaucus, (Torr. andGr.) With the preceding.

Dieteria viscosa, (Nutt.) On the Platte.

D- cor onopi folia, (Nutt.) With the preceding.

j D. pulverulenta, (Nutt.) Near D. sessiliflora. With the preceding.

Erigeron Canudense, (Linn.) On the Platte, from near its mouth to the Red Buttes. Latter
part of September to July 30.

E. bellidiastrum , (Nutt.) On the Platte.

E. macranthum , (Nutt.) With the preceding.

E. glabellum, (Nutt.) With the preceding.

E.strigosum, (Muhl.) With the preceding.

Guiierrezia euthamias, (Torr. and Gr.) Laramie river, Upper North fork of the Platte. Sept 3.
Solidago rigidity (Linn.) North fork of the Platte.

S. Missouriensis, (Nutt.) Fort Laramie, North fork of the Platte. July 22, to the mountains.

A. speciosa , (Nutt.) Upper Platte.

S. virga-aureOy (Linn.) var. multiradiato , (Torr. and Gr.) Wind river mountain, from the
height of 7,000 feet to perpetual snow.

S. incana, (Torr. and Gr.) Sweet Water river.

S. gigantea , (Linn.) var. (3. From the Platte to the mountains.

Linosyris graveolcns, (Torr. and Gr. ) Sweet Water river. Aug. 20.

L. viscidt flora, (Hook ) Upper Platte.

Aplopappus spinulosus, (DC.) Fort Laramie, North fork of the Platte. Sept. 3.

Grindelia squarrosa , (Dunal.) Upper North fork of the Platte, and on the Sweet Water. July
22- Aug. 21.

Chrysopsis liispida , (Hook.) On the Rlalte.

C. mollis, (Nutt.) With the preceding. Too near C.fdlioso, (Ntitt.)

Iva axillaris, (Pursh.) Sweet Water river. Aug. 3.

Franseria discolor, (Nutt.) Near the Wind river mountains.

Lepachys columnaris , (Torr. and Gr.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 26.
Balsamorrhiza sagittatn, (Nutt. ) Wind river mountains. •

Helianthus petiolaris, ( Nutt. ) Black lulls of the Platte. July 26.

H. Maximilian i, (Schrad.) With the preceding.

HeliantheUa unijlora , (Torr. and Gr.) Wind river mountains.

Coreopsis tindoria, (Nutt.) On the Platte.

Cosmidium gi'acile, (Torr. and Gr.) Upper Platte.

Bidens connala, (Muhl.) With the preceding.

Hymenopappus corirhbosus , (Torr. and Gr.) With the preceding.

Actinella grand) flora, (Torr. and Gr.) n. sp. Wind fiver mountains.

Achillea millefolium, (Linn.) A lanosa, (Nutt.) Upper Platte to the mountains.

Artemisia biennis, (Willd.) On the Platte.

A. cana, (Pursh.) Without flowers. With the preceding.

A. trident ata, (Nutt.) On the Sweet Water, near the mountains.

A. fil folia, (Torr.) South fork of the Platte, and North fork, to Laramie river. July 4-Sept. 3.
A. Canadensis , (Michx.) With the preceding.

A. Ludoviciana, (Nutt.) Black hills of the Platte. July 26.

Ai frigiaa, (Willd.) Black hills to the mountains.

[ 174 ] 92

/

A. Lewisii, (Torr. "and Gr. ?) No flowers. On the Platte.

Stephanomeria runcinata, (Nutt.) Upper Platte.

Gnaphalium uliginosum, (Linn.) Var. foltix ungustinribu*. Sweet Water river.

G. palustre , (Nutt.) j8. (Ton. and Gr.) With the preceding.

Arnica angustifolia, (Yahl.) A- fulgens, (Pursh.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains, from,
7,000 feet and upwards. August 13-14.

Senccio triangularis , (Hook.) (i. (Torr. and Gr.) With the preceding.

S. subnudus, (DC.) With the preceding.

S. Fremontii , (Torr. and Gr.) n. sp. Highest parts of the mountains, to the region of perpetual
snow. Aug. 15.

S. rapifolius, (Nutt.) North fork of the Platte and Sweet Water.

S. lanceolatus, (Torr. and Gr.) n. sp. With the preceding.

S. hydrophtlus , (Nutt.) On a lake in the Wind river mountains. Aug. 12-17.

S. spartioides , (Torr. and Gr.) n. sp. Sweet Water river. Aug. 21.

S. Jilif alius, (Nutt.) /? Fremontii, (Torr. and Gr.) Lower Platte.

Cacali a tuberose, (Nutt.) Upper Platte.

Tetradymia inermis , (Nutt ) SweetWater river, from its mouth to the highest parts of the Wind
river mountains.

Cirsium altissimum, (Spreng.) Lower Platte.

Crejfis glauca, (Hook.) Upper Platte.

Macrorhynchus ( stylopappus ) troximoides , (Torr. and Gr.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains.
Aug. 13-14.

Mulgtdium pulchellumy (Torr. and Gr.) Black hills of the Platte. July 25 31.

Lygodcsmia juncea, (Don.) Upper Platte.

Troximon parvijlorum, (Nutt.) SweetWater river, near the mountains.

LOBELIACEiE.

Lobelia spicata, (Lam.) On the Lower Platte. June 28.

L . siphilitica, (Linn.) North fork of the Platte. Sept. 4.

CAMPANULACEyE.

Campanula rotundifolia , (Linn. ) Lower Platte.

Specularia amplexicaulus, (DC.) Little Blue river of the Kansas.

ERICACEAE.

Phyllodoce empetriformis, (D. Don.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-16.
Vaccinium myrtilloides , (Hook.) Wind river mountains, in the vicinity of perpetual snow.
Aug. 15.

V. uliginosum, (Linn.) With the preceding.

Artostaphylos uva-ursi, (Spreng.) On a lake in the mountains. Aug. 12-17.

PRIMULACEJ3.

Dodecatheon dentatum, (Hook.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-16.

Androsace occidentalism (Nutt.) Sweet Water river. Aug. 5.

Lysimachia ciliaia , (Linn.) Forks of the Platte. July 2.

Glaux maritima , (Linn.) Upper Noith fork of the Platte. July 31.

SCROPHULARIACEiE.

Orthocarpus luteus, (Nutt.) Sweet Water river. Aug. 5.

Mimulus alsinoides, (Benth.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-16.

M. Lewisii, (Pursh.) With the preceding.

Castilleja pallida, ( Kunth.) Sweet Water river. Aug. 8. <|

* 93 [ 174 ]

, miniata, (Benth.) Wind river mountains. August 13-16. There are two or three other
species of this genus in the collection, which I have not been able to determine.
trotiica a/pinn /?, (Hook.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains.
rntsfcmonalbidum, (Nutt.) Forks of thq» Platte. July 2.

, coeruleum, (NiAt.) South fork of the Platte. July 4.

. micranthum , (Nutt ) Sources of the Sweet Water, near the mountains. August 7.

’ilicular/s surrecta, (Benth.) Defiles of the Wind river mountains. August 13-16.
zrardia longifulia, (Nutt.) Lower Platte. July 22.

OROBANCHACE.E.

■obanche fasciculata , (Nutt.) South fork of the Platte. July 4.

• I*\BIAT;E,

>narda Jidulosn , (Linn.) On the Platte.
lucrium Canadense , (Linn.) With the preceding.
ycnpus sinuutus, (Ell.) With the preceding.
achys aspera, (Michx. ) Forks of the Platte. July 2.

Htellarin golericuluta, (Linn.) North of the Platte. July 10.
entha Canadensis , (Linn.) With the preceding.

dvia azurea , (Lam.) Kansas river and forks of the Platte. June 19-29, July 2. ijgjjt

VERBENACE.E.

ppia cuneifolia, Zapania cuneifolia, (Torr., in Ann. Lyc. Nat. Hist. N. York, ii, page 234.)
North fork of the Platte. July 12.

?rbena siricta , (Vent ) With the preceding.

. hastatu, (Linn.) With the preceding.

. bracteata, (Michx.) With the. preceding.

BORAGINACEiE.

uhnonaria ciliata , (James; Torr. in Ann. Lyc. N. York, ii, page 224.) Defiles in the Wind

river mountains. August 13-15. *

nusmodium rnulle, (Michx.) On the Platte. June 29.

atschia Gntelmi , (Michx ) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22,

r.yi>sotis glomerata, (Nutt. ) Forks of the Platte. July 2.

HYDROPHYLLACE.E.

'"toca sericea, (Lehm.) Wind river mountains.

hacelia leucophytla , n. sp. Whole plant strigosely canescent; leaves elliptical, petiolate entire,
racemes numerous, scorpioid, densely flowered. — Goat island, upper North fork of the Platte.
July 30. Perennial. — Stems branching from the base. Leaves about two inches long, and 6 to
8 lines wide; radical and lower cauline ones on long petioles; the others nearly sessile. Spikes
forming a terminal crowded sort of panicle. Flowers sessile, about 3 lines long. Sepals
strongly hispid. Corolla one-third longer than the calyx; the lobes short and entire. Stamens
much exsertcd; filaments glabrous. Style 2 parted to the middle, the lower part hairy. Ovary
hispid, incompletely 2-celled, with 2 ovules in each cell. Capsule, by abortion, one-seeded*
seed oblong, strongly punctate. J Nearly related to P. integrifolia, (Torr ;) but differs in the
leaves being perfectly entire, the more numerous spikes, one-seeded capsules, as well as in the
whitish strigose pubescence of the whole plant.

POLEMONIACE^E.

3 blox muscoides, (Nutt.) Immediately below the region of perpetual snow, on the Wind liver
mountains. . August 15.

Hoodiiy (Richards.) North fork of the Platte. July 8.

0 . pilosa, (Nutt.) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 20.

Polemonium cceruleum , (Linn., Hook.) Red Buttes on the Upper North fork of the, Platte, (3 hu~.
miley (Hook.) Highest parts of the mountains, near perpetual snow. August 13-15.

Gilia (Canttia) longiflora , (Torr.) Sand hills of the Platte. September 16.

G. pulchella, (Dough) Upper part of the Sweet Water, near the mountains. August 7-20.

G. inconspicua, (Dough?) Goat island, Upper North fork of the Platte. July 30. This differs.,
from the Oregon plant in its fleshy, simply pinnatified leaves, with ovate, obtuse segments.

CONVOLVULACE^,

C alystegia sepiumy (R. Br.) Forks of the Platte- July 2.

Ipomcea leptophylla, n. sp. Stems branching from the base, prostrate, glabrous, angular; leaves
lanceolate-linear, very acute, entire, attenuate at the base into a petiole; peduncles 1 to 3-flow-
ered; sepals roundish-ovate, obtuse with a minute mucro. — Forks of the Platte to Laramie 1
river. July 4-September 3. Imperfect specimens ofjhis plAit were collected about the sources of
the Canadian, by Dr. James, in Long’s expedition; but they, were not described in my account,
of his plants. The root, according to Dr. James, is annual, producing numerous, thick pros-
trate, but not twining stems, which are two feet or more in length. The leaves are from two
to four inches long, acute at each end, strongly veined apd somewhat . coriaceous. Peduncles
an inch or more in length; those towards the extremity of the branches only 1 -flowered; the
lower ones bearing 2, 3, and sometimes 4 flowers, which are nearly the size of those of calys--
tegia sepium, and of a purplish color. Sepals appressed, about five lines long. Corolla cam-
pa^feftate — funnel form, the tube much longer than the calyx. Stamens inserted near the "base
of the corolla; filaments villous at the base; anthers oblong-linear, large. Style as long as the
stamen^; stigma 2-lobed; the lobes capitate. Ovary 2-celled, with two ovules in each cell.

SOLANACEzE.

Nyctcrium luteuni , (Donncat.) South fork of the Platte. July 4.

Physalis pubescent, (Willd.) Upper North fork of the Platte. July 23.

P. pumila, (Nutt.) With the preceding.

GENTIANACE^E.

Gcntiana ardophila (3 demijlora , (Gjiseb. ? in Hook. FI. Bor. Am. ii, page 61.) Sweet Water
of the Platte. August 4.

faj/inis , (Griscb. ) North fork of the Platte. September 9.

pneumonanthe , (Linn.) Laramie river to Little Sandy creek, in the mountains. July 12—
August 8.

G. Fremontii , n. sp. Stem branched at the base; branches 1 -flowered; leaves ovate, cuspidate,
cartilaginous on the margin, erect; corolla funnel-form; plicae small, slight y 2-toothed; cap-,
sple .ovjafp,. . at. leijgtjji entirely exserted on its thick stipe. — Wind river mountains. — Annual.
Branchy seyertjJ, 2, tp 3 inqpes long, or nearly, equal, length- Leaves about three lines long, with
a strong wluiti^k, cartilaginous border, shorter than the internodes. Flowers as large as those
of G, prostrate/.,. ppatamerous, Calyx two-thirds the length of the corolla; the teeth about one-
third the length of’ the tube. Plicse of the corolla scarcely one-third as long as the lanceolate
Jokes*. Stameri^ inqlqde^,; .anfheps oblong, somewhat cordate at the base. Capsule in matu-
rity, and alter dehiscence, (in which state all our specimens were collected,) exserted quite be-
yond ..the corolla, and, wijth its , long stipe, resembling a style, with, a large bilamellate stigma.
Npqp jo£, the capsules contained, any seeds. This species is nearly related to G. prostrate t,
(Haenk,) and G.htimtfU, (Stev.,) but the former has spatulate obtuse recurved leaves, and the
latter entire plicae, which are nearly the length of the corolla. In G. humilis , and in the allied
G. squarrosa, (Ledeb.,) the capsule is exserted after discharging the seeds.

Swertia perennis , (3 obtusa, (Hook.) From Laramie river to the Big Buttes.

Frascra speciosa , (Hook.) Defiles of the Wind river mountaius. August 13-14.

Lmanthus Iiusselianus, (Hook.) Lower Platte to the forks. July-September.

95

C 174 ]

AP0CYNACEJ3.

Apocynum cunnabinurn, (Ljpn.) On the Platte.

ASCLEPIADACEJE.

Asclepias speciosa, (Torr, in Ann. Lyc. N. York, ii, p. 218. — A Douglasii, Hook. FI. Bor. Am*
ii, p. 53, t. 142.) Forks of the Platte. July 2. Collected also by Mr Nicollet in his North-
western expedition. Hooker’s plant differs in no essential characters from my A. spepio^, col-
lected by Dr. James in Long’s first expedition.

A verticillata, (Linn.) Small variety. With the preceding.

A . tubei'osa^ ( Linn. ) Kansas river. Jurte 19.

Ananthtrix viridis , (Nntt.) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 20.

Acerates longi folia, ( Ell.) Polyotus longifolia. (Nutt.) With the preceding.

A. angustfolim. Polyotus angustifolius. (Nutt) With the preceding.

OLEACE.E.

Fraxinus platycarpa, (Michx. ) Leaves only. Lower Platte.

• PLANTAGINACEiE.

Plantago eriopoda , (Torr. , in Ann. Lyc. N. Y ork, ii, p. 237. ) Mouth of the Sweet W* ater. July 3 1 «.

P. gnaphaloides, (Nutt.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 24. ^

CHENOPODIACE.E.

Chenopodium zosterifolium, (Hook,) Platte. ?

C. album , (Linn.) North fork of the Platte. July 12.

Olioue canescem, (Mocq Chenop., p. 74.) Atriplex canescens. (Nutt.) Upper North fork of’
the Platte. July 26.

Cyclo/oma platypliylla, (Mocq,, I. c. p. 18) Kochia dentata, (Willd.) North fork of the
Platte. September 4.

Sueda maritima, (Mocq., 1. c. p. 127.) With the preceding.

Eurotia lanata, (Mocq., 1. c. p. 81.) JDiotis latiaia, (Pursin'") Red Buttes to, the mountains,
August 18-25.

Fremontia, n. gen. Flowers diclinous, mpneepious and ? dioicous, heterqn>,orphous, Stam. FI. in.
terminal aments. Scales eccentrically peltate, on a short stipe, angular, somewhat cuspidate up-
ward. Stamens 2, 3, and 4 undereach scale, naked, sessile; anthers oblong. Pist. FI. solitary,
axillary. Perigonium closely adhering to the lower half of the ovary, the bofder entire, nearly
obsolete, but in fruit enlarging into a broad horizontal angular and undulate wing. Ovary
ovate ; styles thick, divaricate ; stigmas linear. Fruit a utricle, the lower two-thirds covered
with Jhe iridurated calyx, compressed. Seed vertical ; integument double. Embryo flat-spiral,
(2 to 3 turns,) green: radicle inferior; albumen none.

F. vermicularis. ( Bati s? vermicular is. Hook.) FI. Bur. Amer. ii, p. 128. Upper North fork of
the Platte, near the mouth of the Sweet Water. July 30;. A low glabrous, diffusely branched
shrub, clothed with a whitish bark. Leaves, alternate, linear, fleshy, and alqip^t seraiterete,, 6 to
12 lines long and 1 to 2 lines wide. Stamina.te aments about three-fourth^ of an, inch, Jopg, cyl-
indrical, at first dense, and composed of closely compacted angular scales, covering naked an-
thers. Anthers very deciduous. Fertile flowers in the axils of the rameal leaves. Calyx
closely adherent, and at first with only an obscure border or limb, but at length forming a wing
3 to 4 lines in diameter, resembling that of Salsola. This remarkable plant, which I dedicate to
Lieutenant Fremont, was first collected by Dr. James about the sources of the Canadian, (in.
Long’s expedition,) but it was omitted in my account of his plants, published in the Annals of
the Lyceum of Natural History. It is undoubtedly the batis? vermicularis of Hooker, (1. c.,)
collected on the barren grounds of the Oregon river by the late Mr. Douglas, who- found it with
only the staminate flowers. We have it now from a third locality, so that the plant must be

[ 174 ] * 96

widely diffused in the barren regions towards the Rocky mountains. It belongs to the sub-order
spirulobex of Meyer and Mocquin, but .can hardly be referred to ei|hcr the tribe suacdince or to*

i salsolx , differing from both in its diclinous heteiomorphous flowers, and also from the latter in its
flat-spiral, not cochleate embryo.

NYCTAGINACErE.

Oxybaphus nydaginea, (Torr. in James’s Rocky Mountain Plants.) Calymenia nyctaginea,
(Nutt.) Kansas river, June 20.

Abronia mellifera , (Dougl ) North fork of the Platte, July 7-12.

A. ( tripterocalyx ) micranthum , n. sp. Viscid and glamtalarly pubescent; leaves ovate; undulate,
obtuse, acute at the base, petiolatc; perianth funnel form, 4- lobed at the summit, 3 to 4 androus;
achenium broadly 3-winged. — Near the mouth of Sweet Water river. August 1. Annual.
Stem diffusely branched from the base, beginning to flower when only an inch high; the branches
of the mature plant above a foot long. Leaves 1 to l £ inoh in length; petioles about as long
as the lamina. Headsaxillary. Involucre 5 leaved, 8 to 1 4 -flowered; leaflets ovate, acumi-
nate. Perianth colored, (purplish,) 3 to 4 lines long; lobes semi-ovate, obtuse. Stamens inserted
in the middle of the tube, unequal; aethers oyate, sagittate at the base. Ovary oblong, clothed
with the S winged base of the calyx; style fiiiform; stigma filiform clavate, incurved. Mature
achenium about 7 lines long and 4 wide; the wings broad, nearly equM, membranaceous and
str®gly reticulated. Seed oblong. Embryo conduplicate, involving the deeply 2-partcd mealy
albumen; radicle linear-terete; inner cotyledon abortive! outer one oblong, foliaceous, concave,
as long as the radicle. This interes ing plant differs from its congeners in its funnel form pe-
rianth, 3 to 4 androus flowers, and broadly 3-winged fruit, but I have not been able to compare
it critically with other species of abronia. It may prove to be a distinct genus.

POLYGON ACEJE.

Polygonum Persicaria, (Linn.) North fork of the Platte. September 4.

P. aviculare, (Linn.) With the preceding.

P. amphibium, (Linn.) Sweet \j^ater river. August 4.

P. viviparum , (Linn.) Black hills. July 26.

Rurnex salicifulius, (Weinn.) With the preceding.

Qxyria reniformis, (Hill.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. August 13-16.

Eriogunum ovali folium, (Nutt.) Horse-shoe creek, Upper North fork of the Platte. July 22.

E. coespitosum, (Nutt.) With the preceding.

E. umbellatum , (Torr.,) in Ann. Lyc. Nat. Hist. N. York, ii, p. 241. SweetWater river. Aug. 7.

E. Fremonlii , n. sp. With the preceding.

E. annuum , (Nutt.) North fork of the Platte. September 4.

ELEAGNACErE.

Skepherdia argentea, (Nutt.) “ Grains de boeuf.” Upper North fork of the Platte, from the
Red Buttes to the mouth of tjie Sweet Water. August 21-28.

S. Canadensis , (Nutt.) On a lake in the Wind river mountains. August 12-17.

Eleagnus argenteus , (Pursh.) With the preceding.

EUPHORBIACE.E.

Euphorbia marginata, (Pursh.) Forks of the Platte. September 1 1.

E. polygonifolia, (Linn.) South fork of the Platte. July 4.

E. corollata , (Linn. ) On the Kansas.

E. obtusala, (Pursh.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. July 23.

Pilinophytumrapitatum , (Klotsch in Wiegem. Arch., April, 1842.) Croton capitatum, (Michx.)
Forks of the Platte.

Hendecandra? (Esch.,) multiflora , n. sp. ; annual canescent, with stellate pubescence, dioecious;

97

C 1^4 ]

stem somewhat diffusely and trichotomously branched; leaves ovate -oblong; petiolate obtuse, entire;
staminate flowers on crowded axillary and terminal compound spikes. — Laramie river, North fork
of the Platte. September 3 — 11. — About a foot high. Fructiferous plant unknown. With,
larger leaves. Forks of the Platte. July 2. This seems to be the same as the plant of Drum-
mond’s Texan Collection, III, No. 266.

SALICIACEiE.

Salix longifolia , (Willd.) On the Platte.

5. Muhlenbergii, (Willd.) With the preceding. Several other species exist in the collection —
some from the Platte, others from the mountains; but I have had no time to determine them
satisfactorily.

Populus tremuloides , (Michx.) Lake in the Wind river mountains.

P. dngustifolia , (Torr. in. Ann. Lyc. N. Hist, of New York, ii, p. 249.) Sweet Water river,
Aug. 21. ,

P. monilifera , (Ait.) Lower Platte.

ULMACE^E.

Ulmus fulva, (Michx.) Lower Platte.

Seltis crassifolia, (Nutt.) With the preceding.

BETULACEJL

Bettila glandulosa, (Michx.-) On a lake in the Wind river mountains. Aug. 12-17.

B. occidentalism (Hook.) With the preceding.

CONIFERJH.

Pinus rigida , (Linn.) Lower Platte. Without cones. Leaves in threes, about 3 inches long.

P. undetermined. Defiles of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-14. Between P. strobusand
P. Lambertiana. Leaves in 5’s, 1| to 2 inches long, rigid. No cones.

P. ( Abies ) alba , (Michx.) With the preceding.

P. near balsamea. With the preceding. Leaves only.'

Juniperus Virginiana , (Linn.) Lower Platte.

ENDOGENOUS PLANTS.

ALISMACE.E.

Sagittaria sagittifolia, (Linn.) On the Kansas.

ORCHIDACE^E.

Platanthera leucophcea, (Lindl.) Black hills. July 27.

P . hyperborea , (R. Br.) Laramie river to the Red Buttes. Aug. 26-31.

Spiranthes cemua, (Rich.) Sweet Water river. Aug. 6.

Aplectrum hyemale, (Nutt.) On the Platte. June 29.

IRIDACEiE.

Sisyrinchium anceps, (Linn.) North fork of the Platte. July 12.

Iris Missouriensts, (Nutt., in Jour. Acad. Phil, vii, p. 58.) In fruit. Sweet Water river. Aug. 3*
Rhizoma very thick. Leaves narrow, rigid, as long as the scape. Scape nearly naked, 2- flow -
ered, terete, 10 inches high. Capsules oblong, obtusely triangular. Flowers not seen.

[ 174 ]

98

LILIACE^E.

Yucca angustifolia, ( Sims.) Laramie river. July 14.

Allium reticulatum, (Fras.) Defiles in the Wind river mountains. Aug. 12-17.

•Smilacina stellata , (Desf.) From the Laramie river to the Red Buttes. Aug. 26-31

MELANTHACEJ3J

Zigadenus glaucus, (Nutt.) Sweet Water river. Aug.

JUNCACEJE.

Juncus echinalus, (Muhl.) North fork of the Platte. Sept. 4.

COMMELYNACE.E.

Tradescantia Virginica , (Linn.,) and a narrow-leaved variety. Kansas and Platte.

CYPERACE_'E.

Carex fesiucacea, (Schk.) On the Kansas. June.

C.aurea, (Nutt.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22.

C. panicea , (Linn.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains, near perpetual snow. Aug. 15.
C, atrata , (Linn.) With the preceding.

GRAMINEJB.

Spartina cynosuroides , (Willd.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22.

Aristida p aliens, (Pursh.) On the Platte. June 29.

Agrostis Michauxiana, (Trin.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 23.

Phleum alpinum , (Linn.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-14.

Bromus ciliatus , (Ifinn.) On the Platte. June- Aug.

Pestuca ovina, (Linn.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-14.

Festuca nutans, (Willd.) On the Kansas.

Poa laxa , (Haenke.) With the preceding.

P. ot'occtia, (Michx.) With the preceding. Spikelets 2-fiowered.

P . nervata, (Willd.) On the Kansas.

Koeleria cristata, (Pers.) Big Blue river of the Kansas, and on the Platte as high as Laramie
river. June 20 — July 22.

Deschampsiu coespitosa, (Beauv.) Alpine region of the Wind river mountains. Aug. 13-14.
Andropogon scoparius, (Michx.) Lower Platte.

A. nutans, (Linn.) Laramie river, North fork of the Platte. Sept. 3-4.

Hordeum jubatum, (Ait.) Forks of the Platte. July 2.

Elymus Virginicus, (Linn.) Big Blue river of the Kansas. June 20.

E. Canadensis, (Linn.) Little Blue river of the Kansas. June 22.

Beckmannia cruciformis, (Jacq.). North fork of the Platte. July 22.

EQUISETACE^E.

Equisetum arvense , (Linn.) On a lake in the Wind river mountains. Aug. 12-17.

FILICES.

Hypopeltis obtusa, (Torr. Compend. Bot. N. States, p. 380, 1826.) Aspidium obtusum, (Willd.)
Woodsia Perriniana, (Hook, and Grev. Icon. Fil. I. t. 68.) Physematium (Kaulf.) obtusum»
(Hook, FI. Bor. Am. ii, p. 259.) On the Platte.

99

[ H4 ]

ASTRONOMICAL OBSERVATIONS.

The maps which accompany this report are on Flamsteed’s modified pro-
jection, and the longitudes are referred to the meridian of Greenwich.

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

One telescope, magnifying power 120.

One circle, by Gambey, Paris.

One sextant, by Gambey, Paris.

One sextant, by Troughton.

One box chronometer, No. 7,810, by French.

One Brockbank pocket chronometer.

One small watch with a light chronometer balance, No. 4,632, by
Arnold & Dent.

The rate of the chronometer 7,810, is exhibited in the following state-
ment :

“New York, May 5, 1842.

“ Chronometer No. 7,810, by French, is this day at noon —

“ Slow of Greenwich mean time - • 11' 4"

“ Fast of New York mean time - - 4 h. 45' 1"

“Loses per day - - - 2"X.

“ ARTHUR STEWART,

“ 74 Merchants’ Exchange.”

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

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

[ 174 ] 100

Table of latitudes and longitudes , deduced from observations made

during the journey.

-T

Date.

Station.

Latitude. 1

Longitude.

1842.

Deg.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

May 27

St. Louis, residence of Colonel Brant

-

38

37

34

June 8

Chouteau’s lower trading post, Kansas river

-

39

05

57

94

25

46

16

Left bank of the Kansas river, seven miles above the

ford -

_

39

06

40

95

38

05

18

Vermillion creek -

-

39

15

19

96

04

07

19

Cold Springs, near the road to Laramie

-

39

30

40

96

14

49

20

Big Blue river -

-

39

45

08

96

32

35

25

Little Blue river -

-

40

26

50

98

22

12

26

Right bank of Platte river -

-

40

41

06

98

45

49

27

Right bank of Platte river - - '

-

40

39

32

99

05

24

28

Right bank of Platte river -

-

40

39

51

30

Right bank of Platte river -

-

40

39

55

100

05

47

July 2

Junction of North and South forks of the Nebraska

or Platte river -

-

41

05

05

100

49

43

4

South fork of Platte river, left bank.

6

South fork of Platte river, island

-

40

51

17

103

07

7

South fork of Platte river, left bank -

-

40

53

26

103

30

37

11

South fork of Platte river, St. Vrain’s fort -

-

40

22

35

105

12

12

12

Crow creek ..

.

40

41

59

104

57

49

13

On a stream, name unknown

-■

41

08

30

104

39

37

14

Horse creek, Goshen’s hole ? - *■

_

41

40

13

104

24

36

16

Fort Laramie, near the mouth of Laramie’s fork

-

42

12

10

104

47

43

23

North fork of Platte river -

_

42

39

25

104

59

59

24

North fork of Platte river - - - 1

-

42

47

40

25

North fork of Platte river, Dried Meat camp

_

42

51

35

105

50

45

26

North fork of Platte river, noon halt

_

42

50

08

26

North fork of Platte river, mouth of Deer creek

_

42

52

24

106

08

24

28

North fork of Platte river, Cache camp

-

42

50

53

106

38

26

29

North fork of Platte river, left bank

_

42

38

01

106

54

32

30

North fork of Platte river, Goat island

-

42

33

27

107

13

29

Aug. 1

Sweet Water river, one mile below Rock Independ-

ence -----

-

42'

29

56

107

25

23

4

Swreet Water river - ...

-

42

32

31

108

30

13

7

Sweet Water river- -

-

42

27

15

109

21

32

8

Little Sandy creek, tributary to the Colorado of the

West -

-

42

27

34

109

37

59

9

New fork, tributary to the Colorado

-

42

42

46

109

58

11

10

Mountain lake

-

42

49

49

110

08

03

15

Highest peak of the Wind river mountains.

19

Sweet Water, noon halt -

-

42

24

32

19

Sweet W ater river -

-

42

22

22

20

Sweet Water river - -

_

42

31

46

22

Sweet Water river, noon halt

.

42

26

10

22

Sweet Water river, at Rock Independence -

.

42

29

36

23

North fork of Platte river, mouth of Sweet Water

_

42

27

18

30

Horse-shoe creek, noon halt

_

42

24

24

Sept. 3

North fork of Platte river, right bank

,

42

01

40

4

North fork of Platte river, near Scott’s bluffs

_

41

54

38

5

North fork of Platte river, right bank, six miles aboye

Chimney rock -

_

41

43

36

8

North fork of Platte river, mouth of Ash creek

41

17

19

9

North fork of Platte river, right bank

_

41

14

30

10

North fork of Platte river, Cedar bluffs

_

41

10-

16

16

Platte river, noon halt -

_

40

54

31

16

Platte river, left bank -

_

40

52

34

17

Platte river, left bank

-

40

42

38

101

C 174 ]

Table of latitudes and longitudes — Continued.

Date.

Station. .

Latitude.

1842.

I

Deg- min . sec.

Sept. 18

Platte river, left bank ,

40 40 21

19

Platte river, left,bank -

40 39 44

20

Platte river, noon halt, left bank -

40 48 19

20

Platte river, left bank - ■

40 54 02

21

Platte river, left bank - - - -

41 05 37

23

Platte river, noon halt, left bank -

41 20 20

. 23

Platte river, left bank -

41 22 52

25

Platte river, mouth of Loup fork - -

41 22 11

• 28

Platte river, mouth of Elk Horn river

41 09 34

29

Platte river, left bank -

41 02 15

Oct. 2

Bellevue, at the poet of the American Fur Company,

right bank of the Missouri river -

41 08 24

4

Left bank of the Missouri, opposite to the right bank

of the mouth of the Platte -

41 02 11

5

Missouri river -

40 34 08

6

Bertholet’s island, noon halt -

40 27 08

6

Missouri river, mouth of Nishnabatona river

40 16 40

8

Missouri river, left bank -

39 36 02

10

Missouri river, mouth of the Kansas river

39 06 03

Longitude.

Deg . min . sec .

95 20

9%

A REPORT

OF THE

EXPLORING EXPEDITION

TO

OREGON AND NORTH CALIFORNIA,

IN THE YEARS 1843-’44.

105

[ *74 ]

REPOET.

Washington City, March 1, 1845.

Colonel J. J. A'eert,

Chief of the Corps of Topographical Engineers:

Sir: In pursuance of your instructions, to connect the reconnoissance of
1842, which I had the honor to conduct, with the surveys of Commander
Wilkes on the coast of the Pacific ocean, so as to give a connected survey
of the interior of our continent, I proceeded to the Great West early in the
spring of 1S43, and arrived, on the 17th of May, at the little town of Kan-
sas, on the Missouri frontier, near the junction of the Kansas river with
the Missouri river, where I was detained near two weeks* in completing
the necessary preparations for the extended explorations winch my instruc-
tions contemplated.

My party consisted principally of Creole and Canadian French, and
Americans, amounting in all to 39 men; among whom you will recognise
several of those who were with me in my first expedition, and who have
been favorably brought to your notice in a former report. Mr. Thomas
Fitzpatrick, whom many years of hardship and exposure in the western
territories had rendered familiar with a portion of the country it was de-
signed to explore, had been selected as our guide ; and Mr. Charles Preuss,
who had been my assistant in the previous journey, was again associated
with me in the same capacity on the present expedition. Agreeably to your
directions, Mr. Theodore Talbot, of Washington city, had been attached to
the party, with a view to advancement in his profession ; and at St. Louis
I had been joined by Mr. Frederick Dwight, a gentleman of Springfield,
Massachusetts, who availed himself of our overland journey to visit the
Sandwich islands and China, by way of Fort Vancouver.

The men engaged for the service were :

Alexis Ayot,
Francois Badeau,
Oliver Beaulieu,
Baptiste Bernier,
John A. Campbell,
John G. Campbell,
Manuel Chapman,
Ransom Clark,
Philibert Courteau,
Michel Crelis,
William Creuss,
Clinton Deforest,
Baptiste Derosier,
Basil Lajeunesse,
Francois Lajeunesse,
Henry Lee,

Louis Menard,
Louis Montreuil,
Samuel Neal,
Alexis Pera,
Francois Pera,
James Power,
Raphael Proue,
Oscar Sarpy,
Baptiste Tabeau,
Charles Taplin,
Baptiste Tesson,
Auguste Vasquez,
Joseph Verrot,
Patrick White,
Tiery Wright,
Louis 2indel, and

106

[ 174 ]

Jacob Dodson, a free young colored man of Washington city, who vol- j
unteered to accompany the expedition, and performed his duty manfully |
throughout the voyage. Two Delaware Indians — a fine-looking old man |
andhisson — were engaged to accompany the expedition as hunters, through
the kindness of Major Cummins, the excellent Indian agent. L. Maxwell,
who had accompanied the expedition as one of the hunters in 1842, being
on his way to Taos, in New Mexico, also joined us at this place.

The party was armed generally with Hall’s carbines, which, with a brass
12-lb. howitzer, had been furnished to me from the United States arsenal at
St. Louis, agreeably to the orders of Colonel S. W. Kearney, commanding
the 3d military division. Three men were especially detailed for the man-
agement of this piece, under the charge of Louis Zindel, a native of Germa- ;
ny, who had been 19 years a non-commissioned officer of artillery in the
Prussian army, and regularly instructed in the duties of his profession. The
camp equipage and provisions were transported in twelve carts, drawn each 1
by two mules; and a light covered wagon, mounted on good springs, had '
been provided for the safer carriage of the instruments. These were :

One refracting telescope, by Frauenhofer.

One reflecting circle, by Gambey.

Two sextants, by Troughton.

One pocket chronometer, No. 837, by Gofle, Falmouth.

One pocket chronometer, No. 739, by Brockbank.

One syphon barometer, by Bunten, Paris.

One cistern barometer, by Frye & Shaw, New York.

Six thermometers, and a number of small compasses.

To make the exploration as useful as possible, I determined, in conform- |
ity to your general instructions, to vary the route to the Rocky mountains
from that followed in the year 1S42. The route then was up the valley of ;
the Great Platte river to the South Pass, in north latitude 42° ; the route
now determined on was up the valley of the Kansas river, and to the head |
of the Arkansas, and to some pass in the mountains, if any could be found,
at the sources of that river.

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

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

Resuming our journey on the 31st, after the delay of a day to complete
our equipment and furnish ourselves with some of the comforts of civilized
life, we encamped in the evening at Elm Grove, in company with several
emigrant wagons, constituting a party which was proceeding to Upper Cal-
ifornia, under the direction of Mr. J. B. Childs, of Missouri. The wagons
were variously freighted with goods, furniture, and farming utensils, con-

107

[ 174 ]

taining among other things an entire set of machinery for a mill which Mr.
Childs designed erecting on the waters of the Sacramento river emptying
into the bay of San Francisco.

We were joined here by Mr. William Gilpin, of Missouri, who, intending
this year to visit the settlements in Oregon, had been invited to accompany
us, and proved a useful and agreeable addition to the party. From this en-
campment, our route until the 3d of June was nearly the same as that de-
scribed to you in 1S42. Trains of wagons were almost constantly in sight ;
giving to the road a populous and animated appearance, although the great-
er portion of the emigrants were collected at the crossing, or already on
their march beyond the Kansas river.

Leaving at the ford the usual emigrant road to the mountains, (which you
will find delineated with considerable detail on one of the accompanying
maps,) we continued our route along the southern side of the Kansas, where
we found the country much more broken than on the northern side of the
river, and where our progress was much delayed by the numerous small
streams, which obliged us to make frequent bridges. On the morning of
the 4th, we crossed a handsome stream, called by the Indians Otter creek,
about 130 feet wide, where a flat stratum of limestone, which forms the
bed, made an excellent ford. We met here a small party of Kansas and
Delaware Indians, the latter returning from a hunting and trapping expe-
dition on the upper waters of the river ; and on the heights above were
five or six Kansas women, engaged in digging prairie potatoes, ( psoralea
esculenta.) On the afternoon of the 6th, while busily engaged in crossing
a wooded stream, we were thrown into a little confusion by the sudden ar-
rival of Maxwell, who entered the camp at full speed at the head of a war
party of Osage Indians, with gay red blankets, and heads shaved to the
scalp lock. They had run him a distance of about nine miles, from a creek
on which we had encamped the day previous, and to which he had re-
turned in search of a runaway horse belonging to Mr. Dwight, which had
taken the homeward road, carrying with him saddle, bridle, and holster
pistols. The Osages were probably ignorant of our strength, and, when
they charged into the camp, drove off a number of our best horses ; but we
were fortunately well mounted, and, after a hard chase of seven or eight
miles, succeeded in recovering them all. This accident, which occasioned
delay and trouble, and threatened danger and loss, and broke down some
good horses at the start, and actually endangered the expedition, was a first
fruit of having gentlemen in company — very estimable, to be sure, but who
are not trained to the care and vigilance and self-dependence which such an
expedition required, and who are not subject to the orders which enforce
attention and exertion. We arrived on the 8th at the mouth of the Smoky-
hill fork, which is the principal southern branch of the Kansas ; forming
here, by its junction with the Republican, or northern branch, the main
Kansas river. Neither stream was fordable, and the necessity of making
a raft, together with bad weather, detained us here until the morning of
the 11th ; when we resumed our journey along the Republican fork. By
our observations, the junction of the streams is in latitude 39° 03' 38", longi-
tude 96° 24' 56", and at an elevation of 926 feet above the gulf of Mexico.
For several days we continued to travel along the Republican, through a
country beautifully watered with numerous streams, handsomely timbered;
and rarely an incident occurred to vary the monotonous resemblance which
one day on the prairies here bears to another, and which scarcely require

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a particular description. Now and then, we caught a glimpse of a small
herd of elk ; and occasionally a band of antelopes, whose curiosity some-
times brought them within rifle range, would circle round us, and then
scour off into the prairies. As we advanced on our road, these became
more frequent ; but as we journeyed on the line usually followed by the ,,
trapping and hunting parties of the Kansas and Delaware Indians, game
of every kind continued very shy and wild. The bottoms which form the
immediate valley of the main river were generally about three miles wide; \
having a rich soil of black vegetable mould, and, for a prairie country, well
interspersed with wood. The country was every where covered with a
considerable variety of grasses — occasionally poor and thin, but far more i
frequently luxuriant and rich. We had been gradually and regularly as- ;
cending in our progress westward, and on the evening of the 14th, when j
we encamped on a little creek in the valley of the Republican, 265 miles
by our travelling road from the mouth of the Kansas, we were at an eleva- I
tion of 1,520 feet. That part of the river where we were now encamped is
called by the Indians the Big Timber. Hitherto our route had been laborious
and extremely slow, the unusually wet spring and constant rain having so
saturated the whole country that it was necessary to bridge every water-
course, and, for days together, our usual march averaged only five or six
miles. Finding that at such a rate of travel it would be imposible to com-
ply with your instructions, I determined at this place to divide the party, j
and, leaving Mr. Fitzpatrick with 25 men in charge of the provisions and
heavier baggage of the camp, to proceed myself in advance, with a light !
party of 15 men, taking with me the howitzer and the light wagon which
carried the instruments.

Accordingly, on the morning of the 16th, the parties separated ; and, bear-
ing a little out from the river, with a view of heading some of the numerous
affluents, after a few hours’ travel over somewhat broken ground, we en-
tered upon an extensive and high level prairie, on which we encamped to-
wards evening at a little stream, where a single dry cottonwood afforded the
necessary fuel for preparing supper. Among a variety of grasses which to-
day made their first appearance, I noticed bunch grass, \festuca,) and buffalo
grass, ( sesleria dactyloides.) Amorpha canescens {lead plant ) continued
the characteristic plant of the country, and a narrow-leaved lathy rus oc-
curred during the morning in beautiful patches. Sida coccinea occurred
frequently, with a psoralia near psoralia floribunda , and a number of |
plants not hitherto met, just verging into bloom. The water on which we )
had encamped belonged to Solomon’s fork of the Smoky-hill river, along I
whose tributaries we continued to travel for several days.

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

The wild sensitive plant {schrankia angustata) occurs frequently, gen-
erally on the dry prairies, in valleys of streams, and frequently on the broken
prairie bank. I remark that the leaflets close instantly to a very light touch.
Amorpha , with the same psoralea, and a dwarf species of lupinus, are the
characteristic plants.

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

June 21. — During the forenoon we travelled up a branch of the creek on
which we had encamped, in a broken country, where, however, the dividing
ridges always afforded a good r< ad. Plants were few; and with the
short sward of the buffalo grass, which now prevailed every where, giving
to the prairies a smooth and mossy appearance, were mingled frequent
[ patches of a beautiful red grass, ( aristida pa/lens, ) which had made its ap-
pearance only within the last few days.

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

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

At noon, on the 23d, we descended into the valley of a principal fork of
the Republican, a beautiful stream with a dense border of wood, consisting
principally of varieties of ash, forty feet wide and four feet deep. It was mu-
sical with the notes of many birds, which, from the vast expanse of silent
prairie around, seemed all to have collected here. We. continued during
the afternoon our route along the river, which was populous with prairie
dogs, (the bottoms being entirely occupied with their villages,) and late in
the evening encamped on its banks. The prevailing timber is a blue-foliaged
ash, ( fraxinus , near F. Americana ,) and ash-leaved maple. With these
were fraxinus Americana, cottonwood, and long-leaved willow. We gave
to this stream the name of Prairie Dog river. Elevation 2,350 feet. Our
road on the 25th lay over high smooth ridges, 3,100 feet above the sea;
buffalo in great numbers, absolutely covering the face of the country. At
evening we encamped within a few miles of the main Republican, on a lit-
| tie creek, where the air was fragrant with the perfume of artemisia filifolia ,
which we here saw for the first time, and which was now in bloom. Shortly
after leaving our encampment on the 26th, we found suddenly that the na-
ture of the country had entirely changed. Bare sand hills every where sur-
; rounded us in the undulating ground along which we were moving; and
the plants peculiar to a sandy soil made their appearance in abundance. A
few miles further we entered the valley of a large stream, afterwards known
to be the Republican fork of the Kansas, whose shallow waters, with a
depth of only a few inches, were spread out over a bed of yellowish white
sand 600 yards wide. With the exception of one or two distant and de-
tached groves, no timber of any kind was to be seen; and the features of
the country assumed a desert character, with which the broad river, strug-
gling for existence among quicksands along the treeless banks, was strik-

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ingly in keeping. On the opposite side, the broken ridges assumed almost i
a mountainous appearance ; and, fording the stream, we continued on our i
course among these ridges, and encamped late in the evening at a little pond
of very bad water, from which we drove away a herd of buffalo that were
standing in and about it. Our encampment this evening was 3,500 feet
above the sea. We travelled now for several days through a broken and "
dry sandy region, about 4,000 feet above the sea, where there were no run-
ning streams; and some anxiety was constantly felt on account of the un-
certainty of water, which was only to be found in small lakes that occur-
red occasionally among the hills. The discovery of these always brought
pleasure to the camp, as around them were generally green flats, which af-
forded abundant pasturage for our animals ; and here were usually collected
herds of the buffalo/ which now were scattered over all the country in
countless numbers.

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

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

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

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

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

As regarded provisions, it did not much matter in a country where rarely
the day passed without seeing some kind of game, and where it was fre-
quently abundant. It was a rare thing to lie down hungry, and we had al-

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[ 174 ]

ready learned to think bread a luxury ; but we could not proceed without
animals, and our own were not capable of prosecuting the journey beyond
the mountains without relief.

I had been informed that a large number of mules had recently arrived
at Taos, from Upper California ; and as our friend, Mr. Maxwell, was
about to continue his journey to that place, where a portion of his family
resided, I engaged him to purchase for me 10 or 12 mules, with the un-
derstanding that he should pack them with provisions and other necessa-
ries, and meet me at the mouth of the Fontaine qui bouit , on the Arkan-
sas river, to which point I would be led in the course of the survey.

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

At daybreak, on the 6th of July, Maxwell was on his way to Taos ; and
a few hours after we also had recommenced our journey up the Platte,
which was continuously timbered with cottonwood and willow, on a gen-
erally sandy soil. Passing on the way the remains of two abandoned
forts, (one of which, however, was still in good condition,) we reached, in
10 miles, Fort Lancaster, the trading establishment of Mr. Lupton. Plis post
was beginning to assume the appearance of a comfortable farm : stock, hogs,
and cattle, were ranging about on the prairie ; there were different kinds
of poultry ; and there was the wreck of a promising garden, in which a
considerable variety of vegetables had been in a flourishing condition, but
it had been almost entirely ruined by the recent high waters. I remained
to spend with him an agreeable hour, and sat off in a cold storm of rain,
which was accompanied with violent thunder and lightning. We encamped
immediately on the river, 16 miles from St. Vrain’s. Several Arapahoes,
on their way to the village which was encamped a few miles above us,
passed by the camp in the course of the afternoon. Night sat in stormy
and cold, with heavy and continuous rain, which lasted until morning.

July 7. — We made this morning an early start, continuing to travel up
the Platte ; and in a few miles frequent bands of horses and mules, scatter-
ed for several miles round about, indicated our approach to the Arapaho
village, which we found encamped in a beautiful bottom, and consisting of
about 160 lodges. It appeared extremely populous, with a great number
of children; a circumstance which indicated a regular supply of the means
of subsistence. The chiefs, who were gathered together at the farther end
of the village, received us (as probably strangers are always received to
whom they desire to show respect or regard) by throwing their arms around
our necks and embracing us.

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

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

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

July 8. — We continued to-day to travel up the Platte ; the morning pleas-
ant, with a prospect of fairer weather. During the forenoon our way lay
over a more broken country, with a gravelly and sandy surface ; although
the immediate bottom of the river was a good soil, of a dark sandy mould,
resting upon a stratum of large pebbles, or rolled stones, as at Laramie fork.
Op our right, and apparently very near, but probably 8 or 10 miles distant,
and two or three thousand feet above us, ran the first range of the moun-
tains, like a dark corniced line, in clear contrast with the great snowy chain
which, immediately beyond, rose glittering five thousand feet above them.
We caught this morning a view of Pike’s peak : but it appeared for a mo-
ment only, as clouds rose early over the mountains, and shrouded them in
mist and rain all the day. In the first range were visible, as at the Red
Buttes on the North fork, very lofty escarpments of red rock. While trav-
elling through this region, I remarked that always in the morning the lofty
peaks were visible and bright, but very soon small white clouds began to
settle around them — brewing thicker and darker as the day advanced, until
the afternoon, when the thunder began to roll ; and invariably at evening
we had more or less of a thunder storm. At 1 1 o’clock, and 21 miles from
St. Yrain’s fort, we reached a point in this southern fork of the Platte, where
the stream is divided into three forks; two of these (one of them being much
the largest) issuing directly from the mountains on the west, and forming,
with the easternmost branch, a river of the plains. The elevation of this
point is about 5,500 feet above the sea ; this river falling 2,800 feet in a
distance of 316 miles, to its junction with the North fork of the Platte. In
this estimate, the elevation of the junction is assumed as given by our bar-
ometrical observations in 1842.

On the easternmost branch, up which we took our way, we first came
among the pines growing on the top of a very high bank, and where we
halted on it to noon ; quaking asp ( populus tremuloides ) was mixed with
the cottonwood, and there were excellent grass and rushes for the animals.

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

We had found very little game since leaving the fort, and provisions be-
gan to get unpleasantly scant, as we had had no meat for several days ; but
towards sundown, when we had. already made up our minds to sleep another

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night without supper, Lajeunesse had the good fortune to kill a fine deer,
which he found feeding in a hollow near by ; and as the rain began to fall,
threatening an unpleasant night, we hurried to secure a comfortable camp
in the timber.

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

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

July 10. — Snow fell heavily on the mountains during the night, and
Pike’s peak this morning is luminous and grand, covered from the summit,,
as low down as we can see, with glittering white. Leaving the encamp-
ment at 6 o’clock, we continued our easterly course over a rolling country,
near to the high ridges, which are generally rough and rocky, with a coarse
conglomerate displayed in masses, and covered with pines. This rock is
very friable, and it is undoubtedly from its decomposition that the prairies
derive their sandy and gravelly formation. In 6 miles we crossed a head
water of the Kioway river, on which we found a strong fort and coral that
had been built in the spring, and halted to noon on the principal branch of
the river. During the morning our route led over a dark vegetable mould,
mixed with sand and gravel, the characteristic plant being esparcette, ( ono -
brychis saliva ,) a species of clover which is much used in certain parts of
Germany for pasturage of stock — principally hogs. It is sown on rocky
waste ground, which would otherwise be useless, and grows very luxu-
riantly, requiring only a renewal of the seed about once in fifteen years.
Its abundance here greatly adds to the pastoral value of this region. A
species of antennaria in flower was very common along the line of road,
and the creeks were timbered with willow and pine. We encamped on
Bijou’s fork, the water of which, unlike the clear streams we had previously
crossed, is of a whitish color, and the soil of the bottom a very hard, tough
clay. There was a prairie dog village on the bottom, and, in the endeavor
to unearth one of the little animals, we labored ineffectually in the tough
clay until dark. After descending, with a slight inclination, until it had
gone the depth of two feet, the hole suddenly turned at a sharp angle ill
another direction for one more foot in depth, when it again turned, taking
an ascending direction to the next nearest hole. I have no doubt that all
their little habitations communicate with each other. The greater part of
8 1

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[ 174 ]

the people were sick to-day, and I was inclined to attribute their indispo- !
sition to the meat of the bull which had been killed the previous day.

July 11. — There were no indications of buffalo having been recently in
the neighborhood; and, unwilling to travel farther eastward, I turned this
morning to the southward, up the valley of Bijou. Esparcette occurred 1
universally, and among the plants on the river I noticed, for the first time
during this journey, a few small bushes of the absinthe of the voyageurs,
which is commonly used for fire wood, ( artemisia tridental a. ) Yesterday
and to-day the road has been ornamented with the showy bloom of a beau-
tiful lupin us , a characteristic in many parts of the mountain region, on
which were generally great numbers of an insect with very bright colors,
(lit l a vesicatoria.)

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

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

The annexed view of Pike’s peak from this camp, at the distance of 40
miles, represents very correctly the manner in which this mountain barrier
presents itself to travellers on the plains, which sweep almost directly to its
bases; an immense and comparatively smooth and grassy prairie, in very
strong contrast with the black masses of timber, and the glittering snow
above them. This is the picture which has been left upon my mind; arid
I annex this sketch, to convey to you the same impression. With occasional
exceptions, comparatively so very small as not to require mention, these
prairies are every where covered with a close and vigorous growth of a
great variety of grasses, among which the most abundant is the buffalo grass,
(. sesleria dactyloides.) Between the Platte and Arkansas rivers, that part
of this region which forms the basin drained by the waters of the Kansas,
with which our operations made us more particularly acquainted, is based
iipon a formation of calcareous rocks. The soil of all this country is ex-
cellent, admirably adapted to agricultural purposes, and would support a
large agricultural and pastoral population. A glance at the map accompa-
nying this report, along our several lines of travel, will show you that this
plain is watered by many streams. Throughout the western half of the
plain, these are shallow, with sandy beds, becoming deeper as they reach
the richer lands approaching the Missouri river ; they generally have bottom

115

[ 174 J

lands, bordered by bluffs varying from 50 to 500 feet in height. In all this
region the timber is entirely confined to the streams. In the eastern half,
where the soil is a deep, rich, vegetable mould, retentive of rain and moist-
ure, it is of vigorous growth, and of many different kinds : and throughout
the western half it consists entirely of various species of cottonwood, which
deserves to be called the tree of the desert — growing in sandy soils, where
no other tree will grow ; pointing out the existence of water, and furnishing
to the traveller fuel, and food for his animals. Add to this, that the western
border of the plain is occupied by the Sioux, Arapaho, and Cheyenne na-
tions, and the Pawnees and other half-civilized tribes in its eastern limits,,
for whom the intermediate country is a war ground, you will have a toler-
ably correct idea of the appearance and condition of the country. De-
scending a somewhat precipitous and rocky hill side among the pines, which
rarely appear elsewhere than on the ridge, we encamped at its foot, where
there were several springs, which you will find laid down upon the map as
one of the extreme sources of the Smoky Hill fork of the Kansas. From this
place the view extended over the Arkansas valley, and the Spanish peaks
in the south beyond. As the greater part of the men continued sick, I
encamped here for the day, and ascertained conclusively, from experiments
on mysAf, that their illness was caused by the meat of the buffalo bull.

On the summit of the ridge, near the camp, were several rock-built forts,
which in front were very difficult of approach, and in the rear were pro-
tected by a precipice entirely beyond the reach of a rifle ball. The even-
ing was tolerably clear, with a temperature at sunset of 63°. Elevation of
the camp 7,300 feet.

Turning the next day to the southwest, we reached, in the course of
the morning, the wagon road to the settlements on the Arkansas river, and
encamped in the afternoon on the Fontaine-qui-bouit (or Boiling Spring}
river, where it was 50 feet wide, with a swift current. I afterwards found
that the spring and river owe their names to the bubbling of the efferves-
cing gas in the former, and not to the temperature of the water, which is
cold. During the morning, a tall species of gilia, with a slender white
flower, was characteristic; and, in the latter part of the day, another vari-
ety of esparcette , (wild clover,) having the flower white, was equally so.
We had a fine sunset of golden brown ; and, in the evening, a very bright
moon, with the near mountains, made a beautiful scene. Thermometer, at.
sunset, was 69°, and our elevation above the sea 5,800 feet.

July 13. — The morning was clear, with a northwesterly breeze, and the
thermometer at sunrise at 46°. There were no clouds along the moun-
tains, and the morning sun showed very clearly their rugged character.

We resumed our journey very early down the river, following an ex-
tremely good lodge trail, which issues by the head of this stream from the
bayou Salade, a high mountain valley behind Pike’s peak. The soil along
the road was sandy and gravelly, and the river well timbered. We halted
to noon under the shade of some fine large cottonwoods, our animals lux-
uriating on rushes ( equisetum hyemale^) which, along this river, were re-
markably abundant. A variety of cactus made its appearance, and among
several strange plants were numerous and beautiful clusters of a plant
resembling mirabilis jalapa, with a handsome convolvulus I had not
hitherto seen, ( calystegia .) In the afternoon we passed near the encamp-
ment of a hunter named Maurice, who had been out into the plains in pur-
suit of buffalo calves, a number of which I saw among some domestic cat-

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[ 174 ]

lie near his lodge. Shortly afterwards, a party of mountaineers galloped
up to us — fine-looking and hardy men, dressed in skins and mounted oil
good fat horses; among them were several Connecticut men, a portion of
Wyeth’s party, whom I had seen the year before, and others were men
from the western States.

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

By this position of affairs, our expectation of obtaining supplies from
Taos was cut off. I had here the satisfaction to meet our good buffalo
hunter of 1843, Christopher Carson, whose services I considered myself
fortunate to secure again ; and as a reinforcement of mules was absolutely
necessary, I despatched him immediately, with an account of our necessi-
ties, to Mr. Charles Bent, whose principal post is on the Arkansas river,
about 75 miles below Fontaine-qui-bouit. He was directed to proceed
from that post by the nearest route across the country, and meet me with
what animals he should be able to obtain at St. V rain’s fort. I also ad-
mitted into the party Charles Towns — a native of St. Louis, a serviceable
~ man, with many of the qualities of a good voyageur. According to our ob-
servations, the latitude of the mouth of the river is 38° 15' 23"; its longi-
tude 104° 58' 30"; and its elevation above the sea 4,880 feet.

On the morning of the 16th, the time for Maxwell’s arrival having ex-
pired, we resumed our journey, leaving for him a note, in which it was
stated that I would wait for him at St. Vrain’s fort until the morning of the
26th, in the event that be should succeed in his commission. Our direction
was up the Boiling Spring river, it being my intention to visit the celebrated
springs from which the river takes its name, and which are on its upper
waters, at the foot of Pike’s peak. Our animals fared well while we were
on this stream, there being every where a great abundance of prele. Ipo -
mea leptophylla , in bloom, was a characteristic plant along the river, gen-
erally in large bunches, with two to five flowers on each. Beautiful clus-

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ters of the plant resembling mirabilis jalapa were numerous, and gly-
cyrrhiza lepidota was a characteristic of the bottoms. Currants nearly
ripe were abundant, and among the shrubs which covered the bottom was
a very luxuriant growth of chenopodiaceous shrubs, four to six feet high.

On the afternoon of the 17th we entered among the broken ridges at the
foot of the mountains, where the river made several forks. Leaving the
camp to follow slowly, I rode ahead in the afternoon in search of the springs.
In the mean time, the clouds, which had been gathered all the afternoon over
the mountains, began to roll down their sides ; and a storm so violent burst
upon me, that it appeared I had entered the storehouse of the thunder
storms. I continued, however, to ride along up the river until about sunset,
and was beginning to be doubtful of finding the springs before the next
day, when 1 came suddenly upon a large smooth rock about twenty yards
in diameter, where the water from several springs was bubbling and boiling
up in the midst of a white incrustation with which it had covered a portion
of the rock. As this did not correspond with a description given me by the
hunters, I did not stop to taste the water, but, dismounting, walked a little
way up the river, and, passing through a narrow thicket of shrubbery bor-
dering the stream, stepped directly upon a huge white rock, at the foot of
which the river, already become a torrent, foamed along, broken by a small
fall. A deer whidh had been drinking at the spring was startled by my
approach, and, springing across the river, bounded off up the mountain.
In the upper part of the rock, which had apparently been formed by depo-
sition, was a beautiful white basin, overhung by currant bushes, in which
the cold clear water bubbled up, kept in constant motion by the escaping
gas, and overflowing the rock, which it had almost entirely covered with
a smooth crust of glistening white. I had all day refrained from drink-
ing, reserving myself for the spring; and as I could not well be more wet
than the rain had already made me, I lay down by the side of the basin,
and drank heartily of the delightful water. The annexed sketch is only a
rude one, but it will enable you to form some idea of the character of the
scenery and the beauty of this spot, immediately at the foot of lofty moun-
tains, beautifully timbered, which sweep closely round, shutting up the
little valley in a kind of cove. As it was beginning to grow dark, I rode
quickly down the river, on which I found the camp a few miles below.

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

Carbonate of lime - - - - 92.25

Carbonate of magnesia - - - - -1.21

Sulphate of lime

Chloride of calcium
Chloride of magnesia

.23

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[ 174 ]

Silica ------- 1.50

Vegetable matter ------ .20

Moisture and loss - - - - - 4.61

100.00

At 1 1 o’clock, when the temperature of the air was 73°, that of the
water in this was 60.5°; and that of the upper spring, which issued from
the flat rock, more exposed to the sun, was 69°. At sunset, when the tem-
perature of the air was 66°, that of the lower springs was 58°, and that of
the upper 61°.

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

The trees in the neighborhood were birch, willow, pine, and an oak re-
sembling quercus alba. In the shrubbery along the river are currant bushes,
(vibes,) of which the fruit has a singular piney flavor ; and on the mountain
side, in a red gravelly soil, is a remarkable coniferous tree, (perhaps an
abies,) having the leaves singulary long, broad, and scattered, with bushes
of spiraea arisefolia. By our observations, this place is 6,350 feet above
the sea, in latitude 38° 52' 10", and longitude 105° 22' 45".

Resuming our journey on this morning, we descended the river, in order
lo reach the mouth of the eastern fork, which I proposed to ascend. The
4eft bank of the river here is very much broken. There is a handsome
little bottom on the right, and both banks are exceedingly picturesque —
strata of red rock, in nearly perpendicular walls, crossing the valley from
north to south. About three miles below the springs, on the right bank of
the river, is a nearly perpendicular limestone rock, presenting a uniformly
unbroken surface, twenty to forty feet high, containing very great numbers
of a large univalve shell, which appears to belong to the genus inoceramas,
and in the appendix is designated by the No. 42.

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

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

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[ 174 J

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

Jlchillea millefolium (milfoil) was among the characteristic plants of
the river bottoms to-day. This was one of the most common plants during
the whole of our journey, occurring in almost every variety of situation.

I noticed it on the lowlands of the rivers, near the coast of the Pacific, and
near to the snow among the mountains of the Sierra Nevada.

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

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

I had been able to obtain no certain information in regard to the charac-
ter of the passes in this portion of the Rocky mountain range, which had
always been represented as impracticable for carriages, but the exploration
of which was incidentally contemplated by my instructions, with the view

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

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

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

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

A French engage, at Lupton’s fort, had been shot in the back on the 4th
of July, and died during our absence to the Arkansas. The wife of the
murdered man, an Indian woman of the Snake nation, desirous, like Naomi

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[ 174 ]

of old, to return to her people, requested and obtained permission to travel
with my party to the neighborhood of Bear river, where she expected to
meet with some of their villages. Happier than the Jewish widow, she
carried with her two children, pretty little half-breeds, who added much to
the liveliness of the camp. Her baggage was carried on five or six pack
horses; and I gave her a small tent, for which I no longer had any use, as
I had procured a lodge at the fort.

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

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

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

Our various barometrical observations, which are better worthy of con-
fidence than the isolated determination of 1S42, give, for the elevation of
the fort above the sea, 4,930 feet. The barometer here used was also a
better one, and less liable to derangement.

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

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

July 29. — Leaving our encampment about 7 in the morning, we travelled
until 3 in the afternoon along the river, which, for this distance of about
six miles, runs directly through a spur of the main mountains.

We were compelled by the nature of the ground to cross the river eight
or nine times, at difficult, deep, and rocky fords, the stream running with
great force, swollen by the rains — a true mountain torrent, only forty or
fifty feet wide. It was a mountain valley of the narrowest kind — almost
a chasm; and the scenery very wild and beautiful. Towering mountains rose

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round about ; their sides sometimes dark with forests of pine, and sometimes
with lofty precipices, washed by the river; while below, as if they indem-
nified themselves in luxuriance for the scanty space, the green river bot-
tom was covered with a wilderness of flowers, their tall spikes sometimes
rising above our heads as we rode among them. A profusion of blossoms ,
on a white flowering vine, {clematis lasianthi,) which was abundant along
the river, contrasted handsomely with the green foliage of the trees. The
mountain appeared to be composed of a greenish gray and red granite, which
in some places appeared to be in a state of decomposition, making a red soil.

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

July 30. — The day was bright again ; the thermometer at sunrise 52°;
and leaving our encampment at 8 o’clock, in about half a mile we crossed
the Cdche-d-la-Poudre river for the last time; and, entering a smoother
country, we travelled along a kind of vallon , bounded on the right by red
buttes and precipices, while to the left a high rolling country extended to a 'i
range of the Black hills, beyond which rose the great mountains around
Long’s peak.

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

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

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

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

July 31. — The morning Avas clear ; temperature 48°. A fine rolling road,
among piney and grassy hills, brought us this morning into a large trail
where an Indian village had recently passed. The Aveather Avas pleasant
and cool ; Ave were disturbed by neither musquitoes nor flies; and the
country Avas certainly extremely beautiful. The slopes and broad ravines
were absolutely covered with fields of flowers of the most exquisitely beauti-
ful colors. Among those which had not hitherto made their appearance, and
Avhich here were characteristic, was a new delphinium , of a green and

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[ 174 ]

lustrous metallic blue color, mingled with compact fields of several bright-
colored varieties of astragalus , which were crowded together in splendid
profusion. This trail conducted us through a remarkable defile, to a little
timbered creek, up which we wound our way, passing by a singular and
massive wall of dark-red granite. The formation of the country is a red
feldspathic granite, overlying a decomposing mass of the same rock, form-
ing the soil of all this region, which every where is red and gravelly, and
appears to be of a great floral fertility.

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

A meridian observation of the sun placed us in latitude 41° 04' 06" In
the evening, we encamped on the Laramie river, which is here very thinly
timbered with scattered groups of cottonwood at considerable intervals.
From our camp, we are able to distinguish the gorges, in which are the
sources of Cache-a-la-Poudre and Laramie rivers ; and the Medicine Bow
mountain, toward the point of which we are directing our course this after-
noon, has been in sight the greater part of the day. By observation, the
latitude was 41° 15' 02", and longitude 106° 16' 54". The same beautiful
flora continued till about 4 in the afternoon, when it suddenly disappeared,
with the red soil, which became sandy and of a whitish-gray color. The
evening was tolerably clear; temperature at sunset 64°. The day’s jour-
ney was 30 miles.

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

August 2. — Temperature at sunrise 52°, and scenery and weather made
our road to-day delightful. The neighboring mountain is thickly studded
with pines, intermingled with the brighter foliage of aspens, and occasional
spots like lawns between the patches of snow among the pines, and here
and there on the heights. Our route below lay over a comparative plain,
covered with the same brilliant vegetation, and the day was clear and pleas-
antly cool. During the morning, we crossed many streams, clear and rocky,
and broad grassy valleys, of a strong black soil, washed down from the
mountains, and producing excellent pasturage. These were timbered with
the red willow and long-leaved cottonwood, mingled with aspen, as we ap-
proached the mountain more nearly towards noon. Esparcette was a char-

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[ 174 ]

acteristic, and flax occurred frequently in bloom. We halted at noon on
the most western fork of Laramie river — a’ handsome stream about sixty
feet wide and two feet deep, with clear water and a swift current, over a
bed composed entirely of boulders or roll stones. There was a large open
bottom here, on which were many lodge poles lying about ; and in the
edge of the surrounding timber were three strong forts, that appeared to
have been recently occupied. At this place I became first acquainted with
the yampah , ( anethum graveolens ,) which I found our Snake woman en-
gaged in digging in the low timbered bottom of the creek. Among the In-
dians along the Rocky mountains, and more particularly among the Sho-
shonee or Snake Indians, in whose territory it is very abundant, this is
considered the best among the roots used for food. *To us, it was an in-
teresting plant — a little link between the savage and civilized life. Here,
among the Indians, its root is a common article of food, which they take
pleasure in offering to strangers; while with us, in a considerable portion
of America and Europe, the seeds are used to flavor soup. It grows more
abundantly, and in greater luxuriance, on one of the neighboring tributa-
ries of the Colorado than in any other part of this region ; and on that
stream, to which the Snakes are accustomed to resort every year to procure
a supply of their favorite plant, they have bestowed the name of Yampah
river. Among the trappeis, it is generally known as Little Snake river;
but in this and other instances, where it illustrated the history of the peo-
ple inhabiting the country, I have preferred to retain on the map the abo-
riginal name. By a meridional observation, the latitude is 41° 45' 59".

In the afternoon we took our way directly across the spurs from the
point of the mountain, where we had several ridges to cross ; and, al-
though the road was not rendered bad by the nature of the ground, it was
made extremely rough by the stiff tough bushes of artemisin tridentata ,*
in this country commonly called sage.

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

* The greater portion of our subsequent journey was through a region where this shrub consti-
tuted the tree of the country ; and, as it will often be mentioned in occasional descriptions, the word
artemisia only will be used, without the specific name.

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We encamped at evening on the principal fork of Medicine Bow river,
near to an isolated mountain called the Medicine Butte , which appeared to
be about 1,S00 feet above the plain, from which it rises abruptly, and was
still white, nearly to its base, with a great quantity of snow. The streams
were timbered with the long-leaved cottonwood and red willow ; and dur-
ing the afternoon a species of onion was very abundant. I obtained here
an immersion of the first ’satellite of Jupiter, which, corresponding very
nearly with the chronometer, placed us in longitude 106° 47' 25". The
latitude, by observation, was 41° 37' 16"; elevation above the sea, 7,800
feet; and distance from St. Vrain’s fort, 147 miles.

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

August 4. — The morning was clear and calm ; and, leaving the creek,
we travelled towards the North fork of the Platte, over a plain which was
rendered rough and broken by ravines. With the exception of some thin
grasses, the sandy soil here was occupied almost exclusively by artemisia,
with its usual turpentine odor. We had expected to meet with some diffi-
culty in crossing the river, but happened to strike it where there was a very
excellent ford, and halted to noon on the left bank, 200 miles from St.
Vrain’s fort. The hunters brought in pack animals loaded with fine meat.
According to our imperfect knowledge of the country, there should have
been a small affluent to this stream a few miles higher up ; and in the after-
noon we continued our way among the river hills, in the expectation of en-
camping upon it in the evening. The ground proved to be so exceedingly
difficult, broken up into hills, terminating in escarpments and broad ravines,
500 or 600 feet deep, with sides so precipitous that we could scarcely find
a place to descend, that, towards sunset, I turned directly in towards the
river, and, after nightfall, entered a sort of ravine. We were obliged to feel

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our way, and clear a road in the darkness ; the surface being much broken,
and the progress of the carriages being greatly obstructed by the artemisia,
which had a luxuriant growth of four to six feet in height. We had
scrambled along this gully for several hours, during which we had knocked
off the carriage lamps, broken a thermometer and several small articles,
when, fearing to lose something of more importance, I halted for the night
at 10 o’clock. Our animals were turned down towards the river, that they
might pick up what little grass they could find ; and after a little search,
some water was found in a small ravine, and improved by digging. We
lighted up the ravine with fires of. artemisia, and about midnight sat down
to a supper which we were hungry enough to find delightful — although
the buffalo meat was crusted with sand, and the coffee was bitter with the
wormwood taste of the artemisia leaves.

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

In the precipitous bluffs were displayed a succession of strata containing
fossil vegetable remains, and several beds of coal. In some of the beds the
coaL did not appear to be perfectly mineralized ; and in some of the seams,
it was compact and remarkably lustrous. In these latter places there were
also thin layers of a very fine white salts, in powder. As we had a large
supply of meat in the camp, which it was necessary to dry, and the sur-
rounding country appeared to be well stocked with buffalo, which it was
probable, after a day or two, we would not see again until our return to the
Mississippi waters, I determined to make here a provision of dried meat,
which would be necessary for our subsistence in the region we were about
entering, which was said to be nearly destitute of game. Scaffolds were
accordingly soon erected, fires made, and the meat cut into thin slices to be
dried; and all were busily occupied, when the camp was thrown into a
sudden tumult, by a charge from about 70 mounted Indians, over the low
hills at the upper end of the little bottom. Fortunately, the guard, who
was between them and our animals, had caught a glimpse of an Indian’s
head, as he raised himself in his stirrups to look over the hill, a moment
before he made the charge ; and succeeded in turning the band into the
camp, as the Indians charged into the bottom with the usual yell. Before
they reached us, the grove on the verge of the little bottom was occupied
by our people, and the Indians brought to a sudden halt, which they made
in time to save themselves from a howitzer shot, which would undoubtedly
have been very effective in such a compact body; and further proceedings
were interrupted by their signs for peace. They proved to be a war party
of Arapaho and Cheyenne Indians, and informed us that they had charged
upon the camp under the belief that we were hostile Indians, and had dis-
covered their mistake only at the moment of the attack — an excuse which
policy required us to receive as true, though under the full conviction that
the display of our little howitzer, and our favorable position in the grove,
certainly saved our horses, and probably ourselves, from their marauding
intentions. They had been on a war party, and had been defeated, and

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were consequently in the state of mind which aggravates their innate
thirst for plunder and blood. Their excuse, however, was taken in good
part, and the usual evidences of friendship interchanged. The pipe went
round, provisions were spread, and the tobacco and goods furnished the
customary presents, which they look for even from traders, and much more
from Government authorities.

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

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

Our road the next day was through a continued and dense field of arte -
misia , which now entirely covered the country in such a luxuriant growth
that it was difficult and laborious for a man on foot to force his way
through, and nearly impracticable for our light carriages. The region
through which we were travelling was a high plateau, constituting the di-
viding ridge between the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, and
extending to a considerable distance southward, from the neighborhood of
the Table rock, at the southern side of the South Pass. Though broken
lip into rugged and rocky hills of a dry and barren nature, it has nothing
of a mountainous character; the small streams which occasionally occur
belonging neither to the Platte nor the Colorado, but losing themselves
either in the sand or in small lakes. From an eminence, in the afternoon,
a mountainous range became visible in the north, in which were recog-
nised some rocky peaks belonging to the range of the Sweet Water valley;
and, determining to abandon any further attempt to struggle through this
almost impracticable country, we turned our course directly north, towards
a pass in the valley of the Sweet Water river. A shaft of the gun carriage
was broken during the afternoon, causing a considerable delay; and it was
late in an unpleasant evening before we succeeded in finding a very poor
encampment, where there was a little water in a deep trench of a creek,
and some scanty grass among the shrubs. All the game here consisted in
a few straggling buffalo bulls, and during the day there had been but very

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little grass, except in some green spots where it had collected around springs
or shallow lakes. Within fifty miles of the Sweet Water, the country
changed into a vast saline plain, in many places extremely level, occasion-
ally resembling the flat sandy beds of shallow lakes. Here the vegetation
consisted of a shrubby growth, among which were several varieties of
chenopodiaceous plahts; but the characteristic shrub was Fremontia ver -
micularis , with smaller saline shrubs growing with singular luxuriance,
and in many places holding exclusive possession of the ground.

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

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

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

The morning of the 13t>h was clear and cold, there being a white frost;
and the thermometer, a little before sunrise, standing at 26.5°. Leaving
this encampment, (our last on the waters which flow towards the rising
sun,) we took our way along the upland, towards the dividing ridge which
separates the Atlantic from the Pacific waters, and crossed it by a road some
miles further south than the one we had followed on our return in 1842.
We crossed very near the table mountain, at the southern extremity of the
South Pass, which is near twenty miles in width, and already traversed by
several different, roads. Selecting as well as I could, in the scarcely distin-
guishable ascent, what might be considered the dividing ridge in this re- !
markable depression in the mountain, I took a barometrical observation,
which gave 7,490 feet for the elevation above the Gulf of Mexico. You
will remember that, in my report of 1842, 1 estimated the elevation of this
pass at about 7,000 feet ; a correct observation with a good barometer ena-
bles me now to give it with more precision. Its importance, as the great
gate through which commerce and travelling may hereafter pass between

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the valley of the Mississippi and the north Pacific, justifies a precise notice
of its locality and distance from leading points, in addition to this statement
of its elevation. As stated in the report of 1842, its latitude at the point
where we crossed is 42° 24' 32" ; its longitude 109° 26' 00"; its distance
from the mouth of the Kansas, by the common travelling route, 962 miles;
from the mouth of the Great Platte, along the valley of that river, according
to our survey of 1842, 882 miles ; and its distance from St. Louis about 400
miles more by the Kansas, and about 700 by the Great Platte route ; these
additions being steamboat conveyance in both instances. From this pass
to the mouth of the Oregon is about 1,400 miles by the common travelling
route ; so that, under a general point of view, it may be assumed to be about
half way between the Mississippi and the Pacific ocean, on the common
travelling route. Following a hollow of slight and easy descent, in which
was very soon formed a little tributary to the Gulf of California, (for the
waters which flow west from the South Pass go to this gulf,) we made our
usual halt four miles from the pass, in latitude by observation 42° 19' 53".
Entering here the valley of Green river — the great Colorado of the West —
and inclining very much to the southward along the streams which form
the Sandy river, the road led for several days over dry and level uninter-
esting plains; to which a low, scrubby growth of artemisia gave a uniform
dull grayish color; and on the evening of the 15th we encamped in the
Mexican territory, on the left bank of Green river, 69 miles from the South
Pass, in longitude 110° 05' 05", and latitude 41° 53' 54", distant 1.031 miles
from the mouth of the Kansas. This is the emigrant road to Oregon, which
bears much to the southward, to avoid the mountains about the western
heads of Green river— the Rio Verde of the Spaniards.

August 16. — Crossing the river, here about 400 feet wide, by a very good
ford, we continued to descend for seven or eight miles on a pleasant road
along the right bank of the stream, of which the islands and shores are hand-
somely timbered with cottonwood. The refreshing appearance of the broad
river, with its timbered shores and green wooded islands, in contrast to its
dry sandy plains, probably obtained for it the name of Green river, which
was bestowed on it by the Spaniards who first came into this country to
trade some 25 years ago. It was then familiarly known as the Seeds-ke-
dee-agie, or Prairie Hen (tetrao urophasiauus) river ; a name which it re-
ceived from the Crows, to whom its upper waters belong, and on which this
bird is still very abundant. By the Shoshonee and Utah Indians, to whom
belongs, for a considerable distance below, the country where we were now
travelling, it was called the Bitter Root river, from the great abundance in
its valley of a plant which affords them one of their favorite roots. Lower
clown, from Brown’s hole to the southward, the river runs through lofty
chasms, walled in by precipices of red rock; and even among the wilder
tribes who inhabit that portion of its course, I have heard it called by Indian
refugees from the Californian settlements the Rio Colorado. We halted to
noon at the upper end of a large bottom, near some old houses, which had
been a trading post, in latitude 41° 46' 54". At this place the elevation of
the river above the sea is 6,230 feet. That of Lewis’s fork of the Columbia
at Fort Hall is, according to our subsequent observations, 4,500 feet. The
descent of each stream is rapid, but that of the Colorado is but little known,
and that little derived from vague report. Three hundred miles of its
lower part, as it approaches the gulf of California, is reported to be smooth,
and tranquil ; but its upper part is manifestly broken into many falls
9

130

l ^4 ]

and rapids. From many descriptions of trappers, it is probable that in its
foaming course among its lofty precipices it presents many scenes of wild
grandeur; and though offering many temptations, and often discussed, no
trappers have been found bold enough to undertake a voyage which has so
certain a prospect of a fatal termination. The Indians have strange stories
of beautiful valleys abounding with beaver, shut up among inaccessible
walls of rock in the lower course of the river ; and to which the neighbor-
ing Indians, in their occasional wars with the Spaniards, and among them-
selves, drive their herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, leaving them to pas-
ture in perfect security.

The road here leaves the river, which bends considerably to the east ; and
in the afternoon we resumed our westerly course, passing over a somewhat
high and broken country ; and about sunset, after a day’s travel of 26 miles,
reached Black’s fork of the Green river — a shallow stream, with a some-
what sluggish current, about 120 feet wide, timbered principally with wil-
low, and here and there an occasional large tree. At 3 in the morning I
obtained an observation of an emersion of the first satellite of Jupiter, with
other observations. The heavy wagons have so completely pulverized the
soil, that clouds of fine light dust are raised by the slightest wind, making
the road sometimes very disagreeable.

August 17. — Leaving our encampment at 6 in the morning, we travelled
along the bottom, which is about two -miles wide, bordered by low hills, in
which the strata contained handsome and very distinct vegetable fossils. In
a gully a short distance farther up the river, and underlying these, was ex-
posed a stratum of an impure or argillaceous limestone. Crossing on the
way Black’s fork, where it is one foot deep and forty wide, with clear water
and a pebbly bed, in nine miles we reached Ham’s fork, a tributary to the
former stream, having now about sixty feet breadth, and a few inches depth
of water. It is wooded with thickets of red willow, and in the bottom is a
tolerably strong growth of grass. The road here makes a traverse of twelve
miles across a bend of the river. Passing in the way some remarkable hills,
two or three hundred feet high, with frequent and nearly vertical escarp-
ments of a green stone, consisting of an argillaceous carbonate of lime, al-
ternating with strata of an iron brown limestone, and worked into pictur-
esque forms by wind and rain, at 2 in the afternoon we reached the river
again, having made to-day 21 miles. Since crossing the great dividing
ridge of the Rocky mountains, plants have been very few in variety, the
country being covered principally with artemisia.

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

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

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

One of our mules died here, and in this portion of our journey we lost
six or seven of our animals. The grass which the country had lately af-
forded was very poor and insufficient ; and animals which have been ac-
customed to grain become soon weak and unable to labor, when reduced to
■no other nourishment than grass. The American horses (as those are

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[ 174 3

usually called which are brought to this country from the States) are not of
any serviceable value until after they have remained a winter in the coun-
try, and become accustomed to live entirely on grass.

t August 19. — Desirous to avoid every delay not absolutely necessary, I
sent on Carson in advance to Fort Hall this morning, to make arrangements
for a small supply of provisions. A few miles from our encampment, the
road entered a high ridge, which the trappers called the “little mountain, 5f
connecting the Utah with the Wind river chain ; and in one of the hills near
which we passed I remarked strata of a conglomerate formation, frag-
ments uf which were scattered over the surface. We crossed a ridge of
this conglomerate, the road passing near a grove of low cedar, and de-
scended upon one of the heads of Ham’s fork, called Muddy, where we
made our midday halt. In the river hills at this place, I discovered strata
of fossilliferous rock, having an oolitic, structure, whicn, in connexion with
the neighboring strata, authorize us to believe that here, on the west side
of the Rocky mountains, we find repeated the modern formations of Great
Britain and Europe, which have hitherto been wanting to complete the
system of North American geology.

The specimens from this locality are designated in the appendix by the
numbers 64, 68, and 74.

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

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

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

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C 174 ]

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

August 21. — An hour’s travel this morning brought us into the fertile
and picturesque valley of Bear river, the principal tributary to the Great
Salt lake. The stream is here 200 feet wide, fringed with willows and
occasional groups of hawthorns. We were now entering a region which
for us possessed a strange and extraordinary interest. We were upon the
waters of the famous lake which forms a salient point among the remarka-
ble geographical features of the country, and around which the vague and
superstitious accounts of the trappers had thrown a delightful obscurity,
which we anticipated pleasure in dispelling, bur which, in the mean time,
left a crowded field for the exercise of our imagination.

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

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

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[ 174 ]

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

Annexed is a map of that portion of the river along which passes the
emigrant road. In its character of level bottoms, enclosed between abrupt
mountains, it presents a type of the streams of this region.

We continued our road down the river, and at night encamped with a
family of emigrants — two men, women, and several children — who ap-
peared to be bringing up the rear of the great caravan. 1 was struck with
the fine appearance of their cattle, some six or eight yoke of oxen, which
really looked as well as if they had been all the summer at work on some
good farm. It was strange to see one small family travelling along through
such a country, so remote from civilization. Some nine years since, such
a security might have been a fatal one ; but since their disastrous defeats
in the country a little north, the Blackfeet have ceased to visit these waters.
Indians, however, are very uncertain in their localities; and the friendly
feelings, also, of those now inhabiting it may be changed.

According to barometrical observation at noon, the elevation of the valley
was 6,400 feet above the sea ; and our encampment at night in latitude
42° 03‘ 47", and longitude 1110 10' 53", by observation — the day’s journey
having been 26 miles. This encampment was therefore within the territo-
rial limit of the United States; our travelling, from the time we entered the
valley of the Green river, on the 15th of August, having been to the south
of the 42d degree of north latitude, and consequently on Mexican territory;
and this is the route all the emigrants now travel to Oregon.

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

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

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

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

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

134

£ 174 ]

and civilized comfort, that made a rare sight for the traveller in such a
remote wilderness.

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

It was absolutely necessary to descend into the valley for water and grass;
and we were obliged to grope our way in the darkness down a very steep,
bad mountain, reaching the river at about 10 o’clock. It was late before
our animals were gathered into camp, several of those which were very
weak being necessarily left to pass the night on the ridge; and we sat down
again to a midnight supper. The road, in the morning, presented an ani-
mated appearance. YVe found that we had encamped near a large party of
emigrants; and a few miles below another party was already in motion.
Here the valley had resumed its usual breadth, and the river swept off
^along the mountains on the western side, the road continuing directly on.

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

We had approached within something more than a mile of the village,
when suddenly a single horseman emerged from it at full speed, followed
by another, and another, in rapid succession ; and then party after party
poured into the plain, until, when the foremost rider reached us, all the
whole intervening plain was occupied by a mass of horsemen, which came
charging down upon us with guns and naked swords, lances, and bows
and arrows — Indians entirely naked, and warriors fully dressed for war,
with the long red streamers of their war bonnets reaching nearly to the
ground — all mingled together in the bravery of savage warfare. They had
been thrown into a sudden tumult by the appearance of our flag, which,
among these people, is regarded as an emblem of hostility ; it being usually
borne by the Sioux, and the neighboring mountain Indians, when they
come here to war ; and we had accordingly been mistaken for a body of
their enemies. A few words from the chief quieted the excitement; and
the whole band, increasing every moment in number, escorted us to their
encampment, where the chief pointed out a place for us to encamp, near his
awn lodge, and made known our purpose in visiting the village. In a very
short time we purchased eight horses, for which we gave in exchange
blankets, red and blue cloth, beads, knives, and tobacco, and the usual other
articles of Indian traffic. We obtained from them also a considerable quan-

tity of berries of different kinds, among which service berries were the most
abundant; and several kinds of roots and seeds, which we could eat with
pleasure, as any kind of vegetable food was gratifying to us. I ate here, for
the first time, the kooyah , or tobacco root, ( valeriana edulis ,) the principal
edible root among the Indians who inhabit the upper waters of the streams
on the western side of the mountains. It has a very strong and remarkably
peculiar taste and odor, which I can compare to no other vegetable that I
am acquainted with, and which to some persons is extremely offensive. It
was characterized by Mr. Preuss as the most horrid food he had ever put in
his mouth ; and when, in the evening, one of the chiefs sent his wife to me
with a portion which she had prepared as a delicacy to regale us, the odor
immediately drove him out of the lodge; and frequently afterwards he used
to beg that when those who liked it had taken what they desired, it might
be sent away. To others, however, the taste is rather an agreeable one,
and I was afterwards always glad when it formed an addition to our scanty
meals. It is full of nutriment ; and in its unprepared state is said by the
Indians to have very strong poisonous qualities, of which it is deprived by
a peculiar process, being baked in the ground for about two days.

The morning of the 24th was disagreeably cool, with an easterly wind
and very smoky weather. We made a late start from the village, and, re-
gaining the road, (on which, during ail the day, were scattered the emigrant
wagons,) we continued on down the valley of the river, bordered by high
and mountainous hills, on which fires are seen at the summit. The soil
appears generally good, although, with the grasses, many of the plants are
dried up, probably on account of the great heat and want of rain. The
common blue flax of cultivation, now almost entirely in seed — only a scat-
tered flower here and there remaining — is the most characteristic plant of
the Bear river valley. When we encamped at night on the right bank of
the river, it was growingas in a sown field. We had travelled during ths
day 22 miles, encamping in latitude (by observation) 42° 36' 56", chrono-
metric longitude 1110 42' 05".

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

August 25. — This was a cloudless but smoky autumn morning, with a
cold wind from the SE., and a temperature of 45° at sunrise. In a few
miles I noticed, where a little stream crossed the road, fragments of scoriat *
ed basalt scattered about — the first volcanic rock we had seen, and which
now became a characteristic rock along our future road. In about six
miles travel from our encampment, we reached one of the points in our
journey to which we had always looked forward with great interest — the
famous Beer springs. The sketch annexed will aid in fixing your ideas
of the place, which is a basin of mineral waters enclosed by the mountains,
which sweep around a circular bend of Bear river, here at its most north-
ern point, and which from a northern, in the course of a few miles acquires
a southern direction towards the Great Salt lake. A pretty little stream
of clear water enters the upper part of the basin from an open valley in the
mountains, and, passing through the bottom, discharges into Bear river.
Crossing this stream, we descended a mile below, and made our encamp-
ment in a grove of cedar immediately at the Beer springs, which, on ac-
count of the effervescing gas and acid taste, have received their name from
he voyage urs and trappers of the country, who, in the midst of their rude

136

[ 174 ]

and hard lives, are fond of finding some fancied resemblance to the luxu-
ries they rarely have the fortune to enjoy.

Although somewhat disappointed in the expectations which various de-
scriptions had led me to form of unusual beauty of situation and scenery,
I found it altogether a place of very great interest; and a traveller for the
first time in a volcanic region remains in a constant excitement, and at
every step is arrested by something remarkable and new. There is a con-
fusion of interesting objects gathered together in a small space. Around
the place of encampment the Beer springs were numerous ; but, as far as
we could ascertain, were entirely confined to that locality in the bottom. In
the bed of the river, in front, for a space of several hundred yards, they
were very abundant ; the effervescing gas rising up and agitating the water
in countless bubbling columns. In the vicinity round about were numerous
springs of an entirely different and equally marked mineral character. In a
rather picturesque spot, about 1,300 yards below our encampment, and im-
mediately on the river bank, is the most remarkable spring of the place.
In an opening on the rock, a white column of scattered water is thrown tip,
in form like a jet-d’eau. to a variable height of about three feet, and, though
it is maintained in a constant supply, its greatest height is attained only at
regular intervals, according to the action of the force below. It is accom-
panied by a su’oterraneau noise, which, together with the motion of the
water, makes very much the impression of a steamboat in motion ; and,
without knowing that it had been already previously so called, we gave to
it the name of the Steamboat spring. The rock through which it is forced
is slightly raised in a convex manner, and gathered at the opening into an
urn-mouthed form, and is evidently formed by continued deposition from
the water, and colored bright red by oxide of iron. An analysis of this
deposited rock, which I subjoin, will give you some idea of the properties
of the water, which, with the exception of the Beer springs, is the mineral
water of the place.* It is a hot spring, and the water has a pungent and
disagreeable metallic taste, leaving a burning effect on the tongue. Within
perhaps two yards of th q jet-d’eau is a small hole of about an inch in diam-
eter, through which, at regular intervals, escapes a blast of hot air with a
light wreath of smoke, accompanied by a regular noise. This hole had
been noticed by Doctor Wislizenus, a gentleman who several years since
passed by this place, and who remarked, with very nice observation, that
smelling the gas which issued from the orifice produced a sensation of gid-
diness and nausea. Mr. Preuss and myself repeated the observation, and
were so well satisfied with its correctness, that we did not find it pleasant to
continue the experiment, as the sensation of giddiness which it produced
was certainly strong and decided. A huge emigrant wagon, with a large
and diversified family, had overtaken us and halted to noon^it our encamp-
ment; and, while we were sitting at the spring, a band of boys and girls,

* ANALYSIS.

Carbonate of lime
Carbonate of magnesia -
Oxide of iron
Silica ^

Alumina C

Water and loss j

- 92 55

- 0.42

- 1.05

- 5.98

100.00

II

n

% 1 1 1 M 0 S

■o an Inch .

I ith t »• E Weber i. Co

mm

S'teamboaL Spin It a

Scale . One 3 file ti

'• • -r • ' . . .j . -

-

.

•

•

'

*

137 [ 174 ]

with two or three young men, came up, one of whom I asked to stoop
down and smell the gas, desirous to satisfy myself further of its effects. But
his natural caution had been awakened by the singular and suspicious
features of the place, and he declined my proposal decidedly, and with a
few indistinct remarks about the devil, whom he seemed to consider the
genius loci. The ceaseless motion and the play of the fountain, the red
rock, and the green trees near, make this a picturesque spot.

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

quart of the water contains as follows :
Sulphate of magnesia ...

Grains-

- 12.10

Sulphate of lime -

-

- 2.12

Carbonate of lime -

.

-

- 3.86

Carbonate of magnesia ...

-

-

- 3.22

Chloride of calcium

-

-

- 1.33

Chloride of magnesium -

-

-

- 1.12

Chloride of sodium ...

-

-

- 2.24

Vegetable extractive matter, &c.

-

-

- 0.85

26.34

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

In the afternoon I wandered about among the cedars, which occupy the
greater part of the bottom towards the mountains. The soil here has a dry
and calcined appearance; in some places, the open grounds are covered
with saline efflorescences, and there are a number of regularly shaped and
very remarkable hills, which are formed of a. succession of convex strata
that have been deposited by the waters of extinct springs, the orifices of
which are found on their summits, some of them having the form of fun-
nel-shaped cones. Others of these remarkably shaped hills are of a red-
colored earth, entirely bare, and composed principally of carbonate of lime,
with oxide of iron, formed in the same manner. Walking near one of
them, on the summit of which the springs were dry, my attention was at-
tracted by an underground noise, around which I circled repeatedly, until
I found the spot from beneath which it came ; and, removing the red earth,
discovered a hidden spring, which was boiling up from below, with the
same disagreeable metallic taste as the Steamboat spring. Continuing up

138

[ 174 ]

the bottom, and crossing the little stream which has been already mentioned,

I visited several remarkable red and white hills, which had attracted my
attention from the road in the morning. These are immediately upon the
stream, and, like those already mentioned, are formed by the deposition of
successive strata from the springs. On their summits, the orifices through
which the waters had been discharged were so large that they resembled
miniature craters, being some of them several feet in diameter, circular, and
regularly formed as if by art. At a former time, when these dried-up foun-
tains were all in motion, they must have made a beautiful display on a
grand scale ; and nearly all this basin appears to me to have been formed
under their action, and should be called the place of fountains. At the
foot of one of these hills, or rather on its side near the base, are several of
these small limestone columns, about one foot in diameter at the base, and
tapering upwards to a height of three or four feet ; and on the summit the
water is boiling up and bubbling over, constantly adding to the height of
the little obelisks. In some, the water only boils up, no longer overflowing,
and has here the same taste as at the Steamboat spring. The observer will
remark a gradual subsidence in the water, which formerly supplied the
fountains, as on all the summits of the hills the springs are now dry, and
are found only low down upon their sides, or on the surrounding plain.

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

Late in the afternoon I sat out on my return to the camp, and, crossing
in the way a large field of a salt that was several inches deep, found on my
arrival that our emigrant friends, who had been encamped in company with
us, had resumed their journey, and the road had again assumed its solitary
character. The temperature of the largest of the Beer springs at our en-
campment was 65° at sunset, that of the air being 62.5°. Our barometric
observation gave 5,840 feet for the elevation above the gulf, being about 500
feet lower than the Boiling springs, which are of a similar nature, at the foot
of Pike’s peak. The astronomical observations gave for our latitude 42°
39' 57", and 1110 46' 00" for the longitude. The night was very still and

139

[ 1?4 ]

cloudless, and I sat up for an observation of the first satellite of Jupiter,
the emersion of which took place about midnight ; but fell asleep at the
telescope, awaking just a few minutes after the appearance of the star.

The morning of the 26th was calm, and the sky without clouds, but
smoky; and the temperature at sunrise 2S.50. At the same time, the tem-
perature of the large Beer spring, where we were encamped, was 56°; that
of the Steamboat spring 87°; and that of the steam hole, near it, 81.5°. In
the course of the morning, the last wagons of the emigration passed by,
and we were again left in our place, in the rear.

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

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

As we were about resuming our march in the afternoon, I was attracted
by the singular appearance of an isolated hill with a concave summit, in
the plain, about two miies from the river, and turned off towards it, while
tho camp proceeded on its way to the southward in search of the lake. I
found the thin and stony soil of the plain entirely underlaid by the basalt
which forms the river walls; and when I reached the neighborhood of the
hill, the surface of the plain was rent into frequent fissures and chasms of
the same scoriated volcanic rock, from forty to sixty feet deep, but which
there was not sufficient light to penetrate entirely, and which I had not
time to descend. Arrived at the summit of the hill, I found that it termi-
nated in a very perfect crater, of an oval, or nearly circular form, 360
paces in circumference, and 60 feet at the greatest depth. The walls,
which were perfectly vertical, and disposed like masonry in a very regular
manner, were composed of a brown-colored scoriaceous lava, evidently

140

[ 174 ]

the production of a modern volcano, and having all the appearance of the
lighter scoriaceous lavas of Mount Aitna, Vesuvius, and other volcanoes.
The faces of the walls were reddened and glazed by the fire, in which they
had been melted, and which had left them contorted and twisted by its
violent action.

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

August 26. — Crossing a point of ridge which makes in to the river, we
fell upon it again before sunset, and encamped on the right bank, opposite
to the encampment of three lodges of Snake Indians. They visited us
during the evening, and we obtained from them a small quantity of roots
of different kinds, in exchange for goods. Among them was a sweet root
of very pleasant flavor, having somewhat the taste of preserved quince.
My endeavors to become acquainted with the plants which furnish to the
Indians a portion of their support were only gradually successful, and af-
ter long and persevering attention; and even after obtaining, I did not suc-
ceed in preserving them until they could be satisfactorily determined. In
this portion of the journey, I found this particular root cut up into such
small pieces, that it was only to be identified by its taste, when the bulb
was met with in perfect form among the Indians lower down on the Co-
lumbia, among whom it is the highly celebrated kamas. It was long af-
terwards, on our return through Upper California, that I found the plant
itself in bloom, which I supposed to furnish the kamas root, ( camassia es~
culenta.) The root diet had a rather mournful effect at the commence-
ment, and one of the calves was killed this evening for food. The animals
fared well on rushes.

August 27. — The morning was cloudy, with appearance of rain, and
the thermometer at sunrise at 29°. Making an unusually early start, we
crossed the river at a good ford ; and, following for about three hours a trail
which led along the bottom, we entered a labyrinth of hills below the main
ridge, and halted to noon in the ravine of a pretty little stream, timbered
with cottonwood of a large size, ash- leaved maple, with cherry and other
shrubby trees. The hazy weather, which had prevented any very extended
views since entering the Green river valley, began now to disappear. There
was a slight rain in the earlier part of the day, and at noon, when the ther-
mometer had risen to 79.5°, we had a bright sun, with blue sky and scat-
tered cumuli. According to the barometer, our halt here among the hills
was at an elevation of 5,320 feet. Crossing a dividing ridge in the after-
noon, we followed down another little Bear river tributary, to the point
where it emerged on an open green flat among the hills, timbered with
groves, and bordered with cane thickets, but without water. A pretty little
rivulet, coming out of the hill side, and overhung by tall flowering plants
of a species 1 had not hitherto seen, furnished us with a good camping
place. The evening was cloudy, the temperature at sunset 69°, and the ele-
vation 5,140 feet. Among the plants occurring along the line of road dur-
ing the day, epinettes des prairies (grindelia squarrosa) was in considera-
ble abundance, and is among the very few plants remaining in bloom —
the whole country having now an autumnal appearance, in the crisped and

141 [ 174 ]

yellow plants, and dried-up grasses. Many cranes were seen during the
day, with a few antelope, very shy and wild.

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

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

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

142

[ 174 ]

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

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

In the annexed view will be found a sketch of the Standing rock — the
most remarkable feature of the pass, where a huge rock, fallen from the
cliffs above, and standing perpendicularly near the middle of the valley,
presents itself like a watch tower in the pass. It will give you a tolerably
correct idea of the character of the scenery in this country, where generally
the mountains rise abruptly up from comparatively unbroken plains and
level valleys ; but it will entirely fail in representing the picturesque beauty
of this delightful place, where a green valley, full of foliage, and a hundred
yards wide, contrasts with naked crags that spire up into a blue line of pin-
nacles 3,000 feet above, sometimes crested with cedar and pine, and some-
times ragged and bare.

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

As it was still early in the afternoon, Basil and myself in one direction,
and Mr. Preuss in another, set out to explore the country, and ascended
different neighboring peaks, in the hope of seeing some indications of the
lake ; but though our elevation afforded magnificent views, the eye ranging

Kouaqpgir, p jscpji j /? • 'HPT

143

C H4 ]

over a long extent of Bear river, with the broad and fertile Cache valley
in the direction of our search, was only to be seen a bed of apparently
impracticable mountains. Among these, the trail we had been following
turned sharply to the northward, and it began to be doubtful if it would
not lead us away from the object of our destination ; but I nevertheless de-
termined to keep it, in the belief that it would eventually bring us right.
A squall of rain drove us out of the mountain, and it was late when we
reached the camp. The evening closed in with frequent showers of rain,
with some lightning and thunder.

August 30. — We had constant thunder storms during the night, but in the
morning the clouds were sinking to the horizon, and the air was clear and
cold, with the thermometer at sunrise at 39°. Elevation by barometer 5,5S0
feet. We were in motion early, continuing up the little stream without en-
countering any ascent where a horse would not easily gallop, and, crossing
a slight dividing ground at the summit, descended upon a small stream,
along which we continued on the same excellent road. In riding through
the pass, numerous cranes were seen ; and prairie hens, or grouse, (bonasia
umbellus ,) which lately had been rare, were very abundant.

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

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

144

[ 174 ]

interesting to throw a glance backward through the last twenty years, and
give some account of their former distribution through the country, and the
limit of their western range.

The information is derived principally from Mr. Fitzpatrick, supported
by my own personal knowledge and acquaintance with the country. Our
knowledge does not go farther back than the spring of 1S24, at which time
the buffalo were spread in immense numbers over the Green river and Bear
river valleys, and through all the country lying between the Colorado, or
Green river of the gulf of California, and Lewis’s fork of the Columbia
river; the meridian of Fort Hall then forming the western limit of their
range. The buffalo then remained for many years in that country, and
frequently moved down the valley of the Columbia, on both sides of the
river as far as the Fishing Jails. Below this point they never descended
in any numbers. About the year 1S34 or 1835 they began to diminish
very rapidly, and continued to decrease until 1838 or 1840, when, with the
country we have just described, they entirely abandoned all the waters of
the Pacific north of Lewis’s fork of the Columbia. At that time, the Flat*
head Indians were in the habit of finding their buffalo on the heads of Sal*
mon river, and other streams of the Columbia ; but now they never meet
with them farther west than the three forks of the Missouri or the plains
of the Yellowstone river.

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

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

The extraordinary abundance of the buffalo on the east side of the Rocky

145

C 574 ]

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

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

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

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

Robes.

American Fur Company ----- 70,000

Hudson’s Bay Company ----- 10,000

All other companies^ probablj - 10,000

Making a total of - . - - - - 90,000

as an average annual return for the last eight or ten years.

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

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

In 1842, I found the Sioux Indians of the Upper Platte demontes , as their
French traders expressed it, writh the failure of the buffalo ; and in the fol-
lowing year, large villages from the Upper Missouri came over to the moun-
tains at the heads of the Platte, in search of them. The rapidly progressive
lailure of their principal and almost their only means of subsistence has
created great alarm among them ; and at this time there are only two modes
presented to them, by which they see a good prospect for escaping starva-

146

[ 174 ]

tion : one of these is to rob the settlements along the frontier of the States ;
and the other is to form a league between the various tribes of the Sioux
nation, the Cheyennes, and ^Arapahoes, and make war against the Crow
nation, in order to take from them their country, which is now the best
buffalo country in the west. This plan they now have in consideration ;
and it would probably be a war of extermination, as the Crows have long
been advised of this state of affairs, and say that they are perfectly prepared.
These are the best warriors in the Rocky mountains, and are now allied
with the Snake Indians; and it is probable that their combination would
extend itself to the Utahs, who have long been engaged in war against the
Sioux. It is in this section of country that my observation formerly led
me to recommend the establishment of a military post.

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

Among the roots we obtained here, I could distinguish only five or six
different kinds ; and the supply of the Indians whom we met consisted
principally of yampah, ( anethum , graveolens ,) tobacco root, ( valeriana , )
and a large root of a species of thistle, ( circium Virginianum , ) which now
is occasionally abundant, and is a very agreeably flavored vegetable.

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

The weather the next morning was clear, the thermometer at sunrise at
44°. 5, and, continuing down the valley, in about five miles we followed
the little creek of our encampment to its junction with a larger stream,
called Roseaux, or Reed river. Immediately opposite, on the right, the
range was gathered into its highest peak, sloping gradually low, and run-
ning off to a point apparently some forty or fifty miles below. Between
this (now become the valley stream) and the foot of the mountains, we
journeyed along a handsome sloping level, which frequent springs from the
hills made occasionally miry, and halted to noon at a swampy spring, where
there were good grass and abundant rushes. Here the river was forty feet
wide, with a considerable current; and the valley a mile and a half in
breadth ; the soil being generally good, of a dark color, and apparently well
adapted to cultivation. The day had become bright and pleasant, with the
thermometer at 71°. By observation, our latitude was41° 59' 31", and the
elevation above the sea 4,670 feet. On our left, thi3 afternoon, the range
at long intervals formed itself into peaks, appearing to terminate, about

147

[ 174 1

forty miles below, in a rocky cape ; beyond which, several others were faint-
ly visible ; and we were disappointed when at every little rise we did not
see the lake. Towrards evening, our way was somewhat obstructed by
fields of artemisia , which began to make their appearance here, and we
encamped on the Roseaux, the water of which had acquired a decidedly
salt taste, nearly opposite to a canon gap in the mountains, through which
the Bear river enters this valley. As we encamped, the night set in dark
and cold, with heavy rain ; and the artemisia, which was here our only
wood, was so wet that it would not burn. A poor, nearly starved dog,
with a wound in his side from a ball, came to the camp, and remained
with us until the winter, when he met a very unexpected fate.

September 1. — The morning was squally and cold ; the sky scattered over
with clouds ; and the night had been so uncomfortable, that we were not on
the road until 8 o’clock. Travelling between Roseaux and Bear rivers, we
continued to descend the valley, which gradually expanded, as we advanced,
into a level plain of good soil, about 25 miles in breadth, between moun-
tains 3,000 and 4,000 feet high, rising suddenly to the clouds, which ait day
rested upon the peaks. These gleamed out in the occasional sunlight, man-
tled with the snow which had fallen upon them, while it rained on us in the
valley below, of which the elevation here was about 4,500 feet above the
sea. The country before us plainly indicated that we were approaching
the lake, though, as the ground where we were travelling afforded no ele-
vated point, nothing of it as yet could be seen ; and at a great distance ahead
were several isolated mountains, resembling islands, which they were after-
wards found to be. On this upper plain the grass was every where dead ;
and among the shrubs with which it was almost exclusively occupied, ( arte-
misia being the most abundant,) frequently occurred handsome clusters of
several species of dieteria in bloosn. Purshia tridentata was among the
frequent shrubs. Descending to the bottoms of Bear river, we foundgood
grass for the animals, and encamped about 300 yards above the mouth of
Roseaux, which here makes its junction, without communicating any
of its sidfy taste to the main stream, of which the water remains perfectly
pure. On the river are only willow thickets, ( salix longifolia ,) and in the
bottoms the abundant plants are canes, solidago, and helianthi, and along
the banks of Roseaux are fields of malva rotundifolia. At sunset the ther-
mometer was at 54°. 5, and the evening clear and calm ; but I deferred
making any use of it until I o’clock in the morning, when l endeavored
to obtain an emersion of the first satellite ; but it was lost in a bank of
clouds, which also rendered our usual observations indifferent.

Among the useful things which formed a portion of our equipage, was an
India-rubber boat, 18 feet long, made somewhat in the form of a bark canoe
of the northern lakes. The sides were formed by two air-tight cylinders,
eighteen inches in diameter, connected with others forming the bow and
stern. To lessen the danger from accidents to the boat, these were divided
into four different compartments, and the interior space was sufficiently
large to contain five or six persons and a considerable weight of baggage.
The Roseaux being too deep to be forded, our boat was filled with air, and
in about one hour all the equipage of the camp, carriage and gun included,
ferried across. Thinking that perhaps in the course of the day we might
reach the outlet at the lake, I got into the boat with Basil Lajeuoesse, and
paddled down Bear river, intending at night to rejoin, the party', which in
the mean time proceeded on its way. The river was from sixty to one

148

£ 174 ]

hundred yards broad, and the water so deep, that even on the comparatively
shallow points we could not reach the bottom with 15 feet. On either side
were alternately low bottoms and willow points, with an occasional high
prairie ; and for five or six hours we followed slowly the winding course of
the river, which crept along with a sluggish current among frequent detours
several miles around, sometimes running fora considerable distance directly
up the valley. As we were stealing quietly down the stream, trying in vain
to get a shot at a strange large bird that was numerous among the willows,
but very shy, we came unexpectedly upon several families ot Root Diggers,
who were encamped among the rushes on the shore, and appeared very-
busy about several weirs or nets which had been rudely made oi canes and
rushes for the purpose of catching fish. They were very much startled at
our appearance, hut we soon established an acquaintance ; and finding that
they had some roots, 1 promised to send some men with goods to trade
with them. They had the usual very large heads, remarkable among the
Digger tribe, with matted hair, and were almost entirely naked ; looking
very poor and miserable, as if their lives had been spent in the rushes where
they were, beyond which they seemed to have very little knowledge jof any
thing. From the few words we could comprehend, their language was
that of the Snake Indians.

Our boat moved so heavily, that we had made very little progress; and,
finding that it would be impossible to overtake the camp, as soon as we were
sufficiently far below the Indians, we put to the shore near a high prairie
bank, hauled up the boat, and cached our effects in the willows. Ascending
the bank, we found that our desultory labor had brought us only a few miles
in a direct line ; and, going out into the prairie, after a search we found the
trail of the camp, which was now nowhere in sight, but had followed the
general course of the river in a large circular sweep which it makes at this
place. The sun was about tbiee hours high when we found the trail ; and
as our people had passed early in the day, we had the prospect of a vigorous
walk before us. Immediately where we landed, the high arable plain on
w hich w e had been travelling for several days past terminated in extensive
low flats, very generally occupied by salt marshes, or beds of shallow lakes,
w hence the water had in most places evaporated, leaving their hard surface
encrusted with a shining white residuum, and absolutely covered with very
small univalve shells. As we advanced, the whole country around us as-
sumed this appearance ; and there was no other vegetation than the shrubby
ehenopodiaceous and other'apparently saline plants, which were confined
to the rising grounds. Here and there on the river bank, which was raised
like a levee above the flats through which it ran, was a narrow border of
grass and short black-burnt willows ; the stream being very deep and
sluggish, and sometimes 600 to 800 feet wide. After a rapid walk of about
15 miles, we caught sight of t;he camp fires among clumps of willows just
as the. sun had sunk behind the mountains on the west side of the val-
ley, filling the clear sky with a golden yellow7. These last rays, to us so
piecious, could not have revealed a more welcome sight. To the traveller
and the hunter, a camp fire in the lonely wilderness is always cheering ;
and to ourselves, in our present situation, after a hard march pi a region of
novelty, approaching the debouches of a river, in a lake of almost fabulous
reputation, it was doubly so. A plentiful supper of aquatic birds, and the
interest of the scene, soon dissipated fatigue ; and 1 obtained during the

149 [ 17 1 J

night emersions of the second, third, and fourth satellites of Jupiter, with
observations for time and latitude.

September 3. — The morning was clear, with a light air from the north,
and the thermometer at sunrise at 45°. 5. At 3 in the morning, Basil
was sent back with several men and horses for the boat, which, in a direct
course aeross the flats, was not 10 miles distant ; and in the mean time there
was a pretty spot of grass here for the animals. The ground was so low’
that we could not get high enough to see across the river, on account of the
willowrs ; but we were evidently in the vicinity of the lake, and the water
fowl made this morning a noise like thunder. A pelican ( pelecanus ono-
crotalm) wras killed as he passed by, and many geese and ducks flew over
the camp. On the dry salt marsh here, is scarce any other plant than
salicomia berbacea.

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

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

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

Returning about five miles up the river, wre were occupied until nearly
sunset in crossing to the left bank — the stream, which in the last five or six
miles of its course, is very much narrower than above, being very deep im-
mediately at the banks; and we had great difficulty in getting our animals

150

£ 174 ]

over. The people with the baggage were easily crossed in the boat, and
we encamped on the left bank where we crossed the river. At sunset the
thermometer was at 75°, and there was some rain during the night, with a
thunder storm at a distance.

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

About 12 miles to the southward was one of those isolated mountains,
now appearing to be a kind of peninsula ; and towards this we accordingly
directed our course, as it probably afforded a good view of the lake ; but
the deepening mud as we advanced forced us to return toward the river, and
gain the higher ground at the foot of the eastern mountains. Here we halt-
ed for a few minutes at noon, on a beautiful little stream of pure and re-
markably clear water, with a bed of rock in situ , on which was an abun-
dant water plant with a white blossom. There was good grass in the bot-
toms ; and, amidst a rather luxuriant growth, its banks were bordered with
a large showy plant ( eupatorium purpureum ,) which I here saw for the
first time. We named the stream Clear creek.

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

On the plain here I noticed blackbirds and grouse. In about seven
miles from Clear creek, the trail brought us to a place at the foot of the
mountain where there issued with considerable force ten or twelve hot
springs, highly impregnated with salt. In one of these, the thermometer
stood at 136°, and in another, at 132°.5 ; and the water, which spread in
pools over the low ground, was colored red.*

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

Peroxide of iron ---------

Carbonate of magnesia - -- -- -- -

Carbonate of lime, - - -

Sulphate of lime ---------

Chloride of sodium -------

Silica and alumina

Water and loss ---------

the springs,

33.50

2.40

50.43

2.00

3.45

3.00

5.22

100.00

151

[ 174 ]

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

September 6. — Leaving the encampment early, we again directed our
course for the peninsular butte across a low shrubby plain, crossing in the
way a slough-like creek with miry banks, and wooded with thickets of thorn
( cratcegus ) which were loaded with berries. This time we reached the
butte without any difficulty, and, ascending to the summit, immediately at
our feet beheld the object of our anxious search — the waters of the Inland
Sea, stretching in still and solitary grandeur far beyond the limit of our
vision. It was one of the great points of the exploration ; and as we looked
eagerly over the lake in the first emotions of excited pleasure, I am doubtful
if the followers of Balboa felt more enthusiasm when, from the heights of
the Andes, they saw7 for the first time the great Western ocean. It was
certainly a magnificent object, and a noble terminus to this part of our ex-
pedition ; and to travellers so long shut up among mountain ranges, a sud-
den view over the expanse of silent waters had in it something sublime.
Several large islands raised their high rocky heads out of the waves ; but
whether or not they w'ere timbered, was still left to our imagination, as the
distance was too great to determine if the dark hues upon them were wood-
land or naked rock. During the day the clouds had been gathering black
over the mountains to the westward, and, while we were looking, a storm
burst dow’n with sudden fury upon the lake, and entirely hid the islands
from our view. So far as we could see, along the shores there, was not a
solitary tree, and but little appearance of grass ; and on Weber’s fork, a
few miles below our last encampment, the timber was gathered into groves,
and then disappeared entirely. As this appeared to be the nearest point to
the lake where a suitable camp could be found, we directed our course to
one of the groves, where we found a handsome encampment, with good
grass and an abundance of rushes, ( equisetumhyemale .) At sunset, the ther-
mometer was at 55°; the evening clear and calm, with some cumuli.

September 7. — The morning was calm and clear, with a temperature
at sunrise of 39°.5. The day was spent in active preparation for our in-
tended voyage on the lake. On the edge of the stream a favorable spot
was selected in a grove, and, felling the timber, we made a strong coral , or
horse pen, for the animals, and a little fort for the people who were to re-
main. We were now probably in the country of the Utah Indians, though
none reside upon the lake. The India-rubber boat was repaired with pre-
pared cloth and gum, and filled with air, in readiness for the next day.

The provisions which Carson had brought with him being nowexhausted,
and our stock reduced to a small quantity of roots, I determined to retain
with me only a sufficient number of men for the execution of our design ;
and accordingly seven were^sent back to Fort Hall, under the guidance
of Francois Lajeunesse, who, having been for many years a trapper in the
country, was considered an experienced mountaineer. Though they were
provided with good horses, and the road was a remarkably plain one of
only four days’ journey for a horseman, they became bewildered, (as we
afterwards learned,) and, losing their way, w'andered about the country in
parties of one or twTo, reaching the fort about a week afterwards. Some

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straggled in of themselves, and the others were brought in by Indians wha
had picked them up on Snake river, about sixty miles below the fort, trav-
elling along the emigrant road in full march for the Lower Columbia. The
leader of this adventurous party was Francois.

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

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

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

153

[ *74 j

We left the camp at sunrise, and had a very pleasant voyage down the
river, in which there was generally eight or ten feet of water, deepening as
we neared the mouth in the latter part of the day. In the course of the
morning we discovered that two of the cylinders leaked so much as to re-
quire one man constantly at the bellows, to keep them sufficiently full of
air to support the boat. Although we had made a very early start, we
loitered so much on the way — stopping every now and then, and floating
silently along, to get a shot at a goose or a duck — that it was late in the day
when we reached the outlet. The river here divided into several branches,
filled with fluvials, and so very shallow7 that it was with difficulty we
could get the boat along, being obliged to get out and wade. We encamped
on a low7 point among rushes and young willows, where there was a quan-
tity of drift wood, which served for our fires. The evening was mild and
clear ; we made a pleasant bed of the young willows ; and geese and ducks
enough had been killed for an abundant supper at night, and for breakfast
the next morning. The stillness of the night was enlivened by millions of
water fowl. Latitude (by observation) 41° IT 26"; and longitude 112°
11' 30".

September 9. — The day w as clear and calm ; the thermometer at sunrise
at 49°. As is usual with the trappers on the eve of any enterprise, our peo-
ple had made dreams, and theirs happened to be a bad one — one which al-
ways preceded evil — and consequently they looked very gloomy this morn-
ing ; but we hurried through our breakfast, in order to make an early start,
and have all the day before us for our adventure. The channel in a short
distance became so shallow that our navigation was at an end, being merely
a sheet of soft mud, w ith a few inches of w ater, and sometimes none at all,
forming the low-water shore of the lake. All this place was absolutely
covered w7ith flocks of screaming plover. We took off our clothes, and,
getting overboard, commenced dragging the boat — making, by this opera-
tion, a very curious trail, and a very disagreeable smell in stirring up the
mud, as we sank above the knee at every step. The water here was still
fresh, w ith only ail insipid and disagreeable taste, probably derived from the
bed of fetid mud. After proceeding in this way about a mile, we came to
a small black ridge on the bottom, beyond which the w'ater became sud-
denly salt, beginning gradually to deepen, and the bottom was sandy and
firm. It was a remarkable division, separating the fresh water of the rivers
from the briny water of the lake, which was entirely saturated with com-
mon salt. Pushing our little vessel across the narrow boundary, we sprang
on board, and at length were afloat on the waters of the unknown sea.

We did not steer for the mountainous islands, but directed our course to-
wards a lower one, which it had been decided we should first visit, the
summit of w hich was formed like the crater at the upper end of Bear river
valley. So long as we could touch the bottom with our paddles, we were
very gay ; but gradually, as the water deepened, we became more still in
our frail batteau of gum cloth distended with air, and with pasted seams.
Although the day was very calm, there was a considerable swell on the
lake ; and there were white patches of foam on the surface, which were
slowly moving to the southward, indicating the set of a current in that di-
rection, and recalling the recollection of the whirlpool stories. The wrater
continued to deepen as we advanced ; the lake becoming almost transpa-
rently clear, of an extremely beautiful bright green color; and the spray >
which was thrown into the boat and over our clothes, was directly coil-

154

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verted into a crust of common salt, which covered also our hands and arms.
u Captain,” said Carson, who for some time had been looking suspiciously
at some whitening appearances outside the nearest islands, “ what are those
yonder ? — won’t you just take a look with the glass ?’7 We ceased paddling
for a moment, and found them to be the caps of the waves that were begin-
ning to break under the force of a strong breeze that was coming up the
lake. The form of the boat seemed to be an admirable one, and it rode on
the waves like a water bird ; but, at the same time, it was extremely slow in
its progress. When we were a little more than half way across the reach,
two of the divisions between the cylinders gave way, and it required the
constant use of the bellows to keep in a sufficient quantity of air. For a
long time we scarcely seemed to approach our island, but gradually we
worked across the rougher sea of the open channel, into the smoother water
under the lee of the island ; and began to discover that what we took for
a lgng row of pelicans, ranged on the beach, were only low cliffs whitened
with salt by the spray of the waves ; and about noon we reached the shore,
the transparency of the water enabling us to see the bottom at a consider-
able depth.

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

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

Alludingto this subject some monthsafterwards, when travelling through
a more southern portion of this region, in company with Mr. Joseph Walker,
an old hunter, 1 was informed by him, that, wandering with a party of men
in a mountain country east of the great Californian range, he surprised a
party of several Indian families encamped near a small salt lake, who aban-
doned their lodges at his approach, leaving every thing behind them. Be-
ing in a starving condition, they were delighted to find in the abandoned
lodges a number of skin bags, containing a quantity of what appeared to be
fish, dried and pounded. On this they made a hearty supper; and were
gathering around an abundantbreakfastthe next morning, when Mr. Walker
discovered that it was with these, ora similar worm, that the bags had been
filled. The stomachs of the stout trappers were not proof against their pre-
judices, and the repulsive food was suddenly rejected. Mr. Walker had
further opportunities of seeing these worms used as an article of food ; and
I am inclined to think they are the same as those we saw, and appear to be
a product of the salt lakes. It may be well to recall to your mind that Mr.
Walker was associated with Captain Bonneville in his expedition to the
Rocky mountains; and has since that time remained in the country, gen-
erally residing in some one of the Snake villages, when not engaged in one

The GREAT SALT LAKE

SCALE

1: 1000000.

155

[ 1^4 ]

of his numerous trapping expeditions, in which he is celebrated as one of
the best and bravest leaders who have ever been in the country.

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

Carrying with us the barometer and other instruments, in the afternoon
we ascended to the highest point of the island — a bare rocky peak, 800 feet
above the lake. Standing on the summit, we enjoyed an extended view of
the lake, enclosed in a basin of rugged mountains, which sometimes left
marshy flats and extensive bottoms between them and the shore, and in other
places came directly down into the water with bold and precipitous bluffs.
Following with our glasses the irregular shores, we searched for some in-
dications of a communication with other bodies of water, or the entrance of
other rivers ; but the distance was so great that we could make out nothing
with certainty. To the southward, several peninsular mountains, 3,000 or
4,000 feet high, entered the lake, appearing, so far as the distance and our
position enabled us to determine, to be connected by flats and low ridges
with the mountains in the rear. Although these are probably the islands
usually indicated on maps of this region as entirely detached from the shore,
we have preferred to represent them, in the small map on the precedingpage,
precisely as we were enabled to sketch them on the ground, leaving their
more complete delineation for a future survey. The sketch, of which the
scale is nearly sixteen miles to an inch, is introduced only to show clearly
the extent of our operations, which, it will be remembered, were made when
the waters were at their lowest stage. At the season of high waters in the
spring, it is probable that all the marshes and low grounds are overflowed,
and the surface of the lake considerably greater. In several places ( which
will be indicated to you in the sketch, by the absence of the bordering moun-
tains) the view was of unlimited extent — here and there a rocky islet ap-
pearing above the water at a great distance ; and beyond, every thing was
vague and undefined. As we looked over the vast expanse of water spread
out beneath us, and strained our eyes along the silent shores over which
hung so much doubt and uncertainty, and which were so full of interest to
us, I could hardly repress the almost irresistible desire to continue our ex-
ploration ; but the lengthening snow on the mountains was a plain indica-
tion of the advancing season, and our frail linen boat appeared so insecure
that I was unwilling to trust our lives to the uncertainties of the lake. I
therefore unwillingly resolved to terminate our survey here, and remain sat-
isfied for the preseht with what we had been able to add to the unknown
geography of the region. We felt pleasure also in remembering that we
were the first who, in the traditionary annals of the country, had visited the
islands, and broken, with the cheerful sound of human voices, the long sol-
itude of the place. From the point where we were standing, the ground
fell off on every side to the water, giving us a perfect view of the island,
which is twelve or thirteen miles in circumference, being simply a rocky

156

[ 174 ]

hill, on which there is neither water nor trees of any kind; although the
Fremontia vermicular is , which was in great abundance, might easily be
mistaken for timber at a distance. The plant seemed here to delight in a
congenial air, growing in extraordinary luxuriance seven to eight feet high,
and was very abundant on the upper parts of the island, where it was al-
most the only plant. This is eminently a saline shrub; its leaves have a
very salt taste ; and it luxuriates in saline soils, where it is usually a char-
acteristic. It is widely diffused over all this country. A chenopodiaceous
shrub, which is a new species of obioive, (0. rigida, Torr. fy Frem .,) was
equally characteristic of the lower parts of the island. These two are the
striking plants on the island, and belong to a class of plants which form a
prominent feature in the vegetation of this country. On the lower parts of
the island, also, a prickly pear of very large size was frequent. On the shore,
near the water, was a woolly species o H phaca ; and a new species of um-
belliferous plant ( leptotcemia ) was scattered about in very considerable
abundance. These constituted all the vegetation that now appeared upon
the island.

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

At sunset, the temperature was 70°. We had arrived just in time to ob-
tain a meridian altitude of the sun, and other observations were obtained
this evening, which place our camp in latitude 41° 10' 42", and longitude
112° 21' 05" from Greenwich. From a discussion of the barometrical ob-
servations made during our stay on the shores of the lake, we have adopted
4,200 feet for its elevation above the gulf of Mexico. In the first disap-
pointment we felt from the dissipation of our dream of the fertile islands, I
called this Disappointment, island.

Out of the diiftwood,we made ourselves pleasant little lodges, open to
the water, and, after having kindled large fires to excite the wonder of any
straggling savage on the lake shores, lay down, for the first time in a long
journey, in perfect security; no one thinking about his arms. The even-
ing was extremely bright and pleasant ; but the wind rose during the night,
and the waves began to break heavily on the shore, making our island
tremble. 1 had not expected in our inland journey to hear the roar of an
ocean surf; and the strangeness of our situation, and the excitement we
felt in the associated interests of the place, made this one of the most in-
teresting nights I remember during our long expedition.

In the morning, the surf was breaking heavily on the shore, and we
were up early. The lake was dark and agitated, and we hurried through
our scanty breakfast, and embarked — having first filled one of the buckets
with water from the lake, of which it was intended to make salt. The
sun had risen by the time we were ready to start; and it was blowing a
strong gale of wind, almost directly off the shore, and raising a consider-
able sea, in wdiich our boat strained very much. It roughened as we got
away from the island, and it required all the efforts of the men to make
any head against the wind and sea; the gale rising with the sun, and there

157

[ 174 ]

was danger of being blown into one of the open reaches beyond the island.
At the distance of half a mile from the beach, the depth of water was 16
feet, with a clay bottom ; but, as the working of the boat was very severe
labor, and during the operation of rounding it was necessary to cease pad-
dling,-during which the boat lost considerable way, I was unwilling to dis-
courage the men, and reluctantly gave up my intention of ascertaining the
depth, and the character of the bed. There was a general shout in the
boat when we found ourselves in one fathom, and we soon after landed on
a low point of mud, immediately under the butte of the peninsula, w7here
we unloaded the boat, and carried the baggage about a quarter of a mile to
firmer ground. We arrived just in time for meridian observation, and
carried the barometer to the summit of the butte, which is 500 feet above
the lake. Mr. Preuss set off on foot for the camp, which was about nine
miles distant; Basil accompanying him, to bring back horses for the boat
and baggage.

The rude-looking shelter we raised on the shore, our scattered baggage
and boat lying on the beach, made quite a picture ; and we called this the
Fisherman’s camp. Lynosiris graveolens , and another new7 species of
obione, (O. confertifolia — Torr. <§/• Frem .,) were growing on the low
grounds, with interspersed spots of an unwholesome salt grass, on a saline
clay soil, with a few other plants.

The horses arrived late in the afternoon, by which time the gale had
increased to such a height that a man could scarcely stand before it; and
we were obliged to pack our baggage hastily, as the rising w7ater of the
lake had already reached the point where we were halted. Looking back
as we rode off, we found the place of recent encampment entirely covered.
The low plain through which we rode to the camp w7as covered with a
compact growth of shrubs of extraordinary size and luxuriance. The soil
was sandy and saline ; flat places, resembling the beds of ponds, that w ere
bare of vegetation, and covered with a powdery white salts, being inter-
spersed among the shrubs. Artemisia tridentata w’as very abundant, but
the plants were principally saline ; a large and vigorous chenopodiaceous
shrub, five to eight feet high, being characteristic, with Fremontia vermicu-
, laris, and a shrubby plant which seems to be a new salicornia. YVe reached
the camp in time to escape a thunder storm which blackened the sky, and
were received with a discharge of the howitzer by the people, who, having
been unable to see any thing of us on the lake, had begun to feel some
uneasiness.

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

Analysis of the salt.

Chloride of sodium, (common salt) - 97.80

Chloride of calcium - - - - - 0.61

Cloride of magnesium - - - - - 0.24

158

[ 174 ]

Sulphate of soda - 0.23

Sulphate of lime - - - - - - - 1.12

100.00

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

By observatidn, the latitude of this camp is 41° 15' 50", and longitude
112^ 06' 43".

The obseivations made during our stay give for the rate of the chro-
nometer 31 ".72, corresponding almost exactly with the rate obtained
at St. Vrain’s fort. Barometrical obseivations were made hourly during^
the day. This morning we breakfasted on yampah, and had only kamas
for supper; but a cup of good coffee still distinguished us from our Digger
acquaintances.

September 12. — The morning was clear and calm, with a temperature
at sunrise of 32°. We resumed our journey late in the day, returning by
nearly the same route which we had travelled in coming to the lake ; and,
avoiding the passage of Hawthorn creek, struck the hills a little below the
hot salt springs. The flat plain we had here passed over consisted alter-
nately of tolerably good sandy soil and of saline plats. We encamped
early on Clear creek, at the foot of the high ridge ; one of the peaks of
which we ascertained by measurement to be 4,210 feet above the lake, or
about 8,400 feet above the sea. Behind these front peaks the ridge rises
towards the Bear river mountains, which are probably as high as the Wind
river chain. This creek is here unusually well timbered with a variety of
trees. Among them were birch (betula,) the narrow-leaved poplar ( populus
angustifolia ,) several kinds of willow ( snlix , ) hawthorn ( cratcegus , ) al-
der ( alnus viridis ,) and cerasus , with an oak allied to quercus albay but
very distinct from that or any other species in the United States.

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

September 1 3. — Continuing up the river valley, we crossed several small
streams; the mountains on the right appearing to consist of the blue lime-
stone, which we had observed in the same ridge to the northward, alternat-
ing here with a.granular quartz already mentioned One of these streams,
which forms a smaller lake near the river, was broken up into several chan-
nels ; and the irrigated bottom of fertile soil was covered with innumerable
flowers, among which were purple fields of eupatorium purpureum, with

159

[ 174 J

helianthi, a handsome solidago (S. canadensis ,) and a variety of other
plants in bloom. Continuing along the foot of the hills, in the afternoon
we found five or six hot springs gushing out together, beneath a conglome-
rate, consisting principally of fragments of a grayish-blue limestone, efflor-
escing a salt upon the surface. The temperature of these springs was 134%,
and the rocks in the bed were colored with a red deposite, and there was
common salt crystallized on the margin. There was also a white incrust-
ation upon leaves and roots, consisting principally of carbonate of lime.
There were rushes seen along the road this afternoon, and the soil under
the hills was very black, and apparently very good ; but at this time the
grass is entirely dried up. We encamped on Bear river, immediately below
a cut-off, the canon by which the river enters this valley bearing north by
compass. The night was mild, with a very clear sky ; and I obtained a
very excellent observation of an occultation of Tau.1 Arietis, withotherob-
servations. Both immersion and emersion of the star were observed ; but*
as our observations have shown, the phase at the bright limb generally gives
incorrect longitudes, and we have adopted the result obtained from the
emersion at the dark limb, without allowing any weight to the immersion.
According to these observations, the longitude is 1 1 2° 05' 12", and the lati-
tude 41° 42' 43". All the longitudes on the line of our outward journey,
between St. Vrain’s fort and the Dalles of the Columbia, which were not
directly determined by satellites, have been chronometrically referred to
this place.

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

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

The people this evening looked so forlorn, that 1 gave them permission to
kill a fat young horse which I had purchased with goods from the Snake
Indians, and they were very soon restored to gayety and good humor. Mr.
Preussand myself could not yet overcome some remains of civilized preju-
dices, and preferred to starve a little longer; feeling as much saddened as
if a crime had been committed.

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

160

c m ]

Shortly afterwards we met an Indian on horseback who had killed an
antelope, which we purchased from him fora little powder and some balls.
We crossed the Roseaux, and encamped on the left bank ; halting early for
the pleasure of enjoying a wholesome and abundant supper, and were pleas-
antly engaged in protracting our unusual comfort, when Tabeau galloped
into the camp with news that Mr. Fitzpatrick was encamped close by us,
with a good supply of provisions — flour, rice, and dried meat, and even a
little butter. Excitement to-night made us all wakeful ; and after a break-
fast before sunrise the next morning, we were again on the road, and, con-
tinuing up the valley, crossed some high points of hills, and halted to noon
on the same stream, near several lodges of Snake Indians, from whom wre
purchased about a bushel of service berries, partially dried. By the gift of
a knife, 1 prevailed upon a little boy to showr me the kooyah plant, which
proved to be valeriana edulis. The root, w hich constitutes the kooyah, is
large, of a very bright yellow color, w ith the characteristic odor, but not so
fully developed as in the prepared substance. It loves the rich moist soil
of river bottoms, which was the locality in which I always afterwards found
it. It was now entirely out of bloom ; according to my observation, flower-
ing in the months of May and June. In the afternoon we entered a long
ravine leading to a pass in the dividing ridge between the waters of Bear-
river and the Snake river, or Lewis’s fork of the Columbia ; our way being
very much impeded, and almost entirely blocked up, by compact fields of
luxuriant artemisia. Taking leave at this point of the w aters of Bear river,
and of the geographical basin which encloses the system of rivers and creeks
which belong to the Great Salt Lake, and which so richly deserves a future
detailed and ample exploration, 1 can say of it, in general terms, that the
bottoms of this river, ( Bear,) and of some of the creeks which i saw-, form
a natural resting and recruiting station for travellers, now, and in all time
to come. The bottoms are extensive ; w?ater excellent ; timber sufficient ;
the soil good,, and w^ell adapted to the grains and grasses suited to such an
elevated region. A military post, and a civilized settlement, wrould be of
great value here ; and cattle and horses would do well where grass and salt
so much abound. The lake will furnish exhaustless supplies of salt. All
the mountain sides here are covet ed with a valuable nutritious grass, called
bunch grass, from the form in which it grows, which has a second grow th
in the fail. The beasts of the Indians were fat upon it ; our own found it
a good subsistence ; and its quantity w ill sustain any amount of cattle, and
make this truly a bucolic region.

We met here an Indian family on horseback, w hich had been out to gather
service berries, and were returning loaded. This tree was scattered about
on the hills ; and the upper part of the pass was timbered with aspen ; {pop-
ulus trem.,) ihe common blue flowering flax occurring among the plants.
The approach to the pass was very steep ; and the summit about 6,300 feet
above the sea — probably only an uncertain approximation, as at the time of
observation it was blowing a violent gale of wind from the northwest, with
cumuli scattered in masses over the sky, the day otherwise bright and clear.
We descended, by a steep slope, into a broad open valley — good soil ; from
four to five miles wide; coming dowrn immediately upon one of the head-
waters of the Pannack river, w'hich here loses itself in swampy ground.
The appearance of the country here is not very interesting. On either side'
is a regular range of mountains of the usual character, with a little timber,
tolerably rocky on the right, and higher and more smooth on the left, with

161

C *74 ]

still higher peaks looking out above the range. The valley afforded a good
level road ; but it was late when it brought us to water, and we encamped
at dark. The northwest wind had blown up very cold weather, and the
artemisia, which was our fire wood to-night, did not happen to be very
abundant. This plant loves a dry, sandy soil, and cannot grow in the good
bottoms where it is rich and moist, but on every little eminence, where
water does not rest long, it maintains absolute possession. Elevation above
the sea about 5,100 feet.

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

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

September 17. — The morning sky was calm and clear, the temperature
at daylight being 25°, and at sunrise 20°. There is throughout this moun-
tain country a remarkable difference between the morning and midday
temperatures, which at this season was very generally 40° or 50°, and oc-
casionally greater; and frequently, after a very frosty morning, the heat in
a few hours would render the thinnest clothing agreeable. About noon we
reached the main fork. The Pannack river was before us ; the valley be-
ing here \h mile wide, fertile, and bordered by smooth hills, not over 500
feet high, partly covered with cedar; a high ridge, in which there is a
prominent peak, rising behind those on the left. We continued to descend
this stream, and found on it at night a wrarm and comfortable camp. Flax
occurred so frequently during the day as to be almost a characteristic, and
the soil appeared excellent. The opposite hills on the right are broken here
into a great variety of shapes. The evening was gusty, with a temperature
at sunset of 59°. I obtained, about midnight, an observation of an emer-
sion of the first satellite ; the night being calm and very clear, the stars re-
markably bright, and the thermometer at 30°. Longitude, from mean of
satellite and chronometer, 1 12° 29' 52" ; and latitude, by observation, 42°
44' 40".

September 18. — The day clear and calm, with a temperature of 25° at
sunrise. After travelling seven or eight miles, we emerged on the plains of
the Columbia, in sight of the famous u Three Buttes a well-known land-
mark in the country, distant about 45 miles. The French word buttey
which so often occurs in this narrative, is retained from the familiar lan-
guage of the country, and identifies the objects to which it refers. It is
naturalized in the region of the Rocky mountains ; and, even if desirable to
render it in English, I know of no word which would be its precise equiv-
alent. It is applied to the detached hills and ridges which rise abruptly,
and reach too high to be called hills or ridges, and not high enough
to be called mountains. Knob , as applied in the western States, is their
most descriptive term in English. Cerro is the Spanish term ; but no
translation, or paraphrasis, would preserve the identity of these picturesque
landmarks, familiar to the traveller, and often seen at a great distance.
Covered as far as could be seen with artemisia, the dark and ugly appearance
of this plain obtained for it the name of the Sage Desert ; and we were
agreeably surprised, on reaching the Portneuf river, to see a beautiful green,
valley w ith scattered timber spread out beneath us, on which, about four
miles distant, were glistening the white walls of the fort. The Portneuf

162

[ 174 ]

runs along the upland plain nearly to its mouth, and an abrupt descent of
perhaps 200 feet brought us down immediately upon the stream, which at
the ford is 100 yards wide and 3 feet deep, with clear water, a swift cur-
rent, and gravelly bed ; but a little higher up the breadth was only about
35 yards, wrilh apparently deep water.

In the bottom I remarked a very great number of springs and sloughs,
with remarkably clear water and gravel beds. At sunset we encamped with
Mr. Talbot and our friends, who came on to Fort Hall when we went to
the lake, and whom we had the satisfaction to find all well, neither party
having met w7ith any mischance in the interval of our separation. They,
too, had had their share of fatigue and scanty provisions, as there had
been very little game left on the trail of the populous emigration ; and Mr.
Fitzpatrick had rigidly husbanded our stock of flour and light provisions,
in view’ of the approaching winter and the long journey before us.

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

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

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

September 22. — The morning was cloudy and unpleasant, and at sunrise
a cold rain commenced, with a temperature of 41°.

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

163

[ 174 ]

Except that there is a greater quantity of wood used in its construction, Fort
Hall very much resembles the other trading posts which have been already
described to you, and would be another excellent post of relief for the emi-
gration. It is in the low, rich bottom of a valley, apparently 20 miles long,
formed by the confluence of Portneuf river with Lewis’s fork of the Colum-
bia, which it enters about nine miles below the fort, and narrowing gradu-
ally to the mouth of the Pannack river, where it has a breadth of only two
or three utiles. Allowing 50 miles for the road from the Beer springs of
Bear river to Fort Hall, its distance along the travelled road from the town
of Westport, on the frontier of Missouri, byway of Fort Laramie and the
great South Pass, is 1,323 miles. Beyond this place, on the line of road
along the barren valley of the Upper Columbia, there does not occur, for
a distance of nearly three hundred miles to the westward, a fertile spot of
ground sufficiently large to produce the necessary quantity of grain, or
pasturage enough to allow even a temporary repose to the emigrants. On
their recent passage, they had been able to obtain, at very high prices and
in insufficient quantity, only such assistance as could be afforded by a
small and remote trading post — and that a foreign one — which, in the supply
of its own wants, had necessarily drawn around it some of the resources
of civilization, bul which obtained nearly all its supplies from the distant
depot of Vancouver, by a difficult water carriage of 250 miles up the Co-
lumbia river, and a land carriage by pack horses of 600 miles. An Ameri-
can military post sufficiently strong to give to their road a perfect security
against the Indian tribes, who are unsettled in locality and very uncertain
in their disposition, and which, with the necessary facilities for the repair
of their equipage, would be able to afford them relief in stock and grain
from the produce of the post, w7ould be of extraordinary value to the emi-
gration. Such a post ( and all others which may be established on the line
to Oregon) would naturally form the nucleus of a settlement, at which
supplies and repose would be obtained by the emigrant, or trading cara-
vans, which may hereafter traverse these elevated, and, in many places,
desolate and inhospitable regions.

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

Analysis of soil.

Silica

.

-

-

_

- 68.55

Alumina

-

-

-

_

7.45

Carbonate of lime

-

-

.

.

8.51

Carbonate of magnesia -

-

-

-

-

5.09

Oxide of iron

-

-

-

-

1.40

Organic vegetable matter

-

-

-

-

4.74

Water and loss -

-

-

-

-

4.26

100.00

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

Taking leave of the homeward party, we resumed our journey down

164

[ 174 ]

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

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

September 24. — The thermometer at sunrise was at 35°, and a blue sky
in the west promised a fine day. The river bottoms here are narrow and
swampy, with frequent sloughs ; and after crossing the Pannack, the road
continued along the uplands, rendered very slippery by the soil of wet clay,
and entirely covered with artemisia bushes, among which occur frequent
fragments of obsidian. At noon we encamped in a grove of willows, at the
upper end of a group of islands, about half a mile above the American falls
of Snake river. Among the willows here, were some bushes of Lewis and
Clarke’s currant, ( ribes aureum.) The river here enters between low mu-
ral banks, which consist of a fine vesicular trap rock, the intermediate por-
tions being compact and crystalline. Gradually becoming higher in its
downward course, these banks of scoriated volcanic rock form, with occa-
sional interruptions, its characteristic feature along the whole line to the
Dalles of the Lower Columbia, resembling a chasm which had been rent
through the country, and which the river had afterwards taken for its bed.
The immediate valley of the river is a high plain, covered with black rocks
and artemisias. In the south is a bordering range of mountains, which,
although not very high, are broken and covered with snow ; and at a great
distance to the north is seen the high, snowy line of the Salmon river
mountains, in front of which stand out prominently in the plain the three
isolated rugged-looking little mountains commonly known as the Three
Buttes. Between the river and the distant Salmon river range, the plain
is represented by Mr. Fitzpatrick as so entirely broken up and rent into
chasms as to be impracticable fora man even on foot. In the sketch annexed,
the point of view is low, but it conveys very well some idea of the open
character of the country, with the buttes rising out above the general line.
By measurement, the river above is 870 feet wide, immediately contracted at
the fall in the form of a lock, by jutting piles of scoriaceous basalt, over which
the foaming river must present a grand appearance at the time of high water.
The evening was clear and pleasant, with dew ; and at sunset the tempera-
ture was 54°. By observation, the latitude is 42° 47' 05", and the longi-
tude 112° 40' 13". A few hundred yards below the falls, and on the left
bank of the river, is the escarpment from which were taken the specimens
that in the appendix are numbered 94, 96, 97, 101, 102, 106, and 107.
September 25. — Thermometer at sunrise 47?. The day came in clear.

165

E 174 ]

with a strong gale from the south, which commenced at 11 of the last
night. The road to-day led along the river, which is full of rapids and
small falls. Grass is very scanty ; and along the rugged banks are scat-
tered cedars, with an abundance of rocks and sage. We travelled 14 miles,
and encamped in the afternoon near the river, on a rocky creek, the bed
of which was entirely occupied with boulders of a very large size. For
the last three or four miles the right bank of the river has a palisaded ap-
pearance. One of the oxen was killed here for food. The thermometer
at evening was at 55°, the sky almost overcast, and the barometer indi-
cated an elevation of 4,400 feet.

September 26. — Rain during the night, and the temperature at sunrise
42°. Travelling along the river, in about 4 miles we reached a picturesque
stream, to which we gave the name of Fall creek. It is remarkable for the
many falls which occur in a short distance ; and its bed is composed of a
calcareous tufa, or vegetable rock, composed principally of the remains of
reeds and mosses, resembling that at the Basin spring on Bear river.

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

166

[ 174 ]

have reached the point of the mountain, at a place which had been pre-
viously agreed upon. In the course of our narrative, we shall be able to
give you some information of the fortune which attended the movements
of these adventurous travellers.

Having discovered our error, we immediately regained the line along
the river, which the road quitted about noon, and encamped at 5 o’clock
on a stream called Raft river, ( Riviere aux Cajeux , ) having travelled only
13 miles. In the north, the Salmon river mountains are visible at a very
far distance ; and on the left, the ridge in which Raft river heads is about
20 miles distant, rocky, and tolerably high. Thermometer at sunset 44°,
with a partially clouded sky, and a sharp wind from the SW.

September 27. — It w7as now no longer possible, as in our previous journey,
to travel regularly every day, and find at any moment a convenient place
for repose at noon or a camp at night; but the halting places were now
generally fixed along the road, by the nature of the country, at places where,
with w'ater, there was a little scanty grass. Since leaving the American
falls, the road had frequently been very bad ; the many short, steep ascents,
exhausting the strength of our wrorn-out animals, requiring always at such
places the assistance of the men to get up each cart, one by one ; and our
progress with twelve or fourteen wheeled carriages, though light and made
for the purpose, in such a rocky country, was extremely slow ; and I again
determined to gain time by a division of the camp. Accordingly, to day
the parties again separated, constituted very much as before — Mr. Fitzpat-
rick remaining in charge of the heavier baggage.

The morning was calm and clear, with a white frost, and the tempera-
ture at sunrise 24°.

To-day the country had a very forbidding appearance ; and, after travel-
ling 20 miles over a slightly undulating plain, we encamped at a consider-
able spring, called Swamp creek, rising in low grounds near the point of a
spur from the mountain. Returning with a small party in a starving con-
dition from the w estward 12 or 14 years since, Carson had met here three
or four buffalo bulls, two of which were killed. They wrere among the
pioneers which had made the experiment of colonizing in the valley of the
Columbia, and which had failed, as heretofore stated. At sunset the ther-
mometer wras at 46°, and the evening was overcast, with a cold wind from
the SE., and to-night we had only sage for fire wTood. Mingled with the
artemisia was a shrubby and thorny chenopodiaceous plant.

September 28. — Thermometer at sunrise 40°. The wind rose early to
a gale from the w7est, with a very cold driving rain ; and, after an uncom-
fortable day’s ride of 25 miles, we were glad when at evening we found a
sheltered camp, where there wras an abundance of wood, at some elevated
rocky islands covered with cedar, near the commencement of another long
canon of the river. With the exception of a short detention at a deep little
stream called Goose creek, and some occasional rocky places, we had to-
day a very good road ; but the country has a barren appearance, sandy, and
densely covered with the artemisias from the banks of the river to the foot
of the mountains. Here I remarked, among the sage bushes, green bunches
of what is called the second growth of grass. The river to-day has had a
smooth appearance, free from rapids, with a low, sandy hill slope bordering
the bottoms, in which there is a little good soil. Thermometer at sunset
45°, blowing a gale, and disagreeably cold.

September 29. — The thermometer at sunrise 36°, with a bright sun, and

it*- tJ*v

,v > y.

< %■

m

K%t

OUTLET OF

SUBTERRAN !~A N RIVER

167

[ 174 ]

appearance of finer weather. The road for several miles was extremely
rocky, and consequently bad : but, entering after this a sandy country, it
became very good, with no other interruption than the sage bushes, which
covered the river plain so far as the eye could reach, and, with their uni-
form tint of dark gray, gave to the country a gloomy and sombre appear-
ance. All the day the course of the river has been between walls of the
black volcanic rock, a dark line of the escarpment on the opposite side
pointing out its course, and sweeping along in foam at places where the
mountains which border the valley present always on the left two ranges,
the lower one a spur of the higher; and, on the opposite side, the Salmon
river mountains are visible at a great distance. Having made 24 miles,
we encamped about 5 o’clock on Rock creek — a stream having considera-
ble water, a swift current, and wooded with willow.

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

Immediately opposite to us, a subterranean river bursts out directly from
the face of the escarpment, and falls in white foam to the river below. In
the views annexed, you will find, with a sketch of this remarkable fall, a
representation of the mural precipices which enclose the main river, and
which form its characteristic feature along a great portion of its course. A
melancholy and strange-looking country — one of fracture, and violence, and
fire.

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

October 1. — The morning clear, wTith wind from the west, and the ther-
mometer at 55°. We descended to the bottom, taking with us the boat, for
the purpose of visiting the fall in the opposite cliffs ; and while it was being

168

r 174 ]

filled with air, we occupied ourselves in measuring the river, which is
1,786 feet in breadth, with banks 200 feet high. We were surprised, on our
arrival at the opposite side, to find a beautiful basin of clear water, formed
by the falling river, around which the rocks were whitened by some saline
incrustation. Here the Indians had constructed wicker dams, although I
was informed that the salmon do not ascend the river so far ; and its char-
acter below would apparently render it impracticable.

The ascent of the steep hill side was rendered a little difficult by a dense
growth of shrubs and fields of cane ; and there were frequent hidden crev-
ices among the rocks, where the water was heard rushing below ; but we
succeeded in reaching the main stream, which, issuing from between strata
of the trap rock in two principal branches, produced almost immediately a
torrent, 22 feet wide, and white with foam. It is a picturesque spot of sin-
gular beauty ; overshaded by bushes, from under which the torrent glances,
tumbling into the white basin below where the clear water contrasted beau-
tifully with the muddy stream of the river. Its outlet was covered with a
rank growth of canes, and a variety of unusual plants, and nettles, {urtica
canabina ,) which, before they were noticed, had set our hands and arms
on fire. The temperature of the spring was 58°, while that of the river
was 51 The perpendicular height of the place at which this stream issues
is 45 feet above the river, and 152 feet below the summit of the precipice,
making nearly 200 feet for the height of the wall. On the hill side here,
was obtained the specimen designated by the number 12 in the collection,
consisting principally of fragments of the shells of small Crustacea, and
which was probably formed by deposition from these springs proceeding
from some lake or river in the highlands above.

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

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

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

The river at this place is more open than for some distance above ; and.

169

[ 174 ]

for the time, the black precipices have disappeared, and no calcareous mat-
ter is visible in the soil. The thermometer at sunset 74° ; clear and calm.

October 2. — The sunrise temperature was 48° ; the weather clear and
calm. Shortly after leaving the encampment, we crossed a stream of clear
water, with a variable breadth of 1 0 to 25 yards, broken by rapids, and lightly
wooded with willow, and having a little grass on its small bottom land.
The barrenness of the country is in fine contrast to-day with the mingled
beauty and grandeur of the river, which is more open than hitherto, with a
constant succession of falls and rapids. Over the edge of the black cliffs,
and out from their faces, are falling numberless streams and springs; and
all the line of the river is in motion with the play of the water. In about
seven miles we reached the most beautiful and picturesque fall I had seen
on the river.

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

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

October 3. — The morning was pleasant, with a temperature at sunrise
of 42°. The road was broken by ravines among the hills, and in one of
these, which made the bed of a dry creek, I found a fragmentary stratum,
or brecciated conglomerate, consisting of flinty slate pebbles, with frag-
ments of limestone containing fossil shells, which will be found described
in the appendix under the numbers 16, 21, and 39.

On the left, the mountains are visible at the distance of twTenty or thirty

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[ 174 ]

miles, appearing smooth and rather low ; but at intervals higher peaks look
out from beyond, and indicate that the main ridge, which we are leaving
with the course of the river, and which forms the northern boundary of
the Great Basin, still maintains its elevation. About 2 o’clock we ar-
rived at the ford where the road crosses to the right bank of Snake river.
An Indian was hired to conduct us through the ford, which proved imprac-
ticable for us, the water sweeping away the howitzer and nearly drowning
the mules, which we were obliged to extricate by cutting them out of the
harness. The river here is expanded into a little bay, in which there are
two islands, across which is the road of the ford ; and the emigrants had
passed by placing two of their heavy wagons abreast of each other, so as
to oppose a considerable mass against the body of water. The Indians
informed us that one of the men, in attempting to turn some cattle which
had taken a wrong direction, was carried off by the current and drowned.
Since their passage, the water had risen considerably ; but, fortunately, we
had a resource in a boat, which was filled with air and launched ; and
at seven o’clock we were safely encamped on the opposite bank, the animals
swimming across, and the carriage, howitzer, and baggage of the camp,
being carried over in the boat. At the place where we crossed, above the
islands, the i iver had narrowed to a breadth of 1 ,049 feet by measurement,
the greater portion of which was from six to eight feet deep. We were
obliged to make our camp where we landed, among the Indian lodges,
which are semicircular huts made of willow, thatched over with straw,
and open to the sunny south. By observation, the latitude of our encamp-
ment on the right bank of the river was 42° 55' 58" ; chronometric longi-
tude 115° 04' 46", and the travelled distance from Fort Hall 208 miles.

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

Artemisia still covers the plain, but Purshia tridentata makes its appear-
ance here on the hill sides and on bottoms of the creeks — quite a tree in
size, and larger than the artemisia. We crossed several hollows with a
little water in them, and improved grass; and, turning off from the road in
the afternoon in search of w ater, travelled about three miles up the bed of
a w illow creek, tow ards the mountain, and found a good encampment, with
wood and grass, and little ponds of water in the bed of the creek; which
must be of more importance at other seasons, as we found there several
old fixtures for fishing. There wrere many holes on the creek prairie,
w'hich had been made by the diggers in search of roots.

Wind increased to a violent gale from the NW., with a temperature at
sunset of 57°.

October 5. — The morning was calm and clear, and at sunrise the ther-
mometer was at 32°. The road to-day was occasionally extremely rocky,
with hard volcanic fragments, and our travelling very slow. In about nine
miles the road brought us to a group of smoking hot springs, with a tem-

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[ 174 ]

perature of 164°. There were a fewhelianthi in bloom, with some other
low plants, and the place was green round about ; the ground warm, and
the air pleasant, with a summer atmosphere that was very grateful in a day
of high and cold searching wind. The rocks were covered with a white
and red incrustation ; and the water has on the tongue the same unpleas-
ant effect as that of the Basin spring on Bear river. They form several
branches, and bubble up with force enough to raise the small pebbles seve-
ral inches.

The following is an analysis of the deposite with which the rocks are
incrusted :

Analysis,

Silica -

-

-

- 72.55

Carbonate of lime

-

-

- 14.60

Carbonate of magnesia

-

-

- 1.20

Oxide of iron

-

-

- 4.65

Alumina - -

-

-

- 0.70

Chloride of sodium, &e. )

Sulphate of soda

.

.

- 1.10

Sulphate of lime, &c. )

Organic vegetable matter )
Water and loss )

-

-

- 5.20

100.00

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

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

October 6. — The morning warm, the thermometer 46° at sunrise, and sky
entirely clouded. After travellingaboutthree milesover an extremely rocky
road, the volcanic fragments began to disappear ; and, entering among the
hills at the point of the mountain, we found ourselves suddenly in a granite
country. Here, the character of the vegetation was very much changed ;
the artemisia disappeared almost entirely, showing only at intervals towards
the close of the day, and was replaced by Purshia tridentata, with flowering
shrubs, and small fields of dieteria divaricata, which gave bloom and gayety
to the hills. These were every wrhere covered with a fresh and green short
grass, like that of the early spring. This is the fall or^second growth, the
dried grass having been burnt off by the Indians; and wherever the fire
has passed, the bright-green color is universal. The soil among the hills

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[ 174 ]

is altogether different from that of the river plain, being in many places
black, in others sandy and gravelly, but of a firm and good character, ap-
pearing to result from the decomposition of the granite rocks, which is pro-
ceeding rapidly.

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

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

October 7. — The day was bright, clear, and pleasant, with a temperature
of 45° ; and we breakfasted at sunrise, the birds singing in the trees as
merrily as if we were in the midst of summer. On the upper edge of the
hills on the opposite side of the creek, the black volcanic rock reappears ;
and ascending these, the road passed through a basin, around which the
hills swept in such a manner as to give it the appearance of an old crater.
Here were strata and broken beds of black scoriated rock, and hills com-
posed of the same, on the summit of one of which there was an opening re-
sembling a rent. We travelled to-day through a country resembling that
of yesterday, where, although the surface was hilly, the road was good, be-
ing firm, and entirely free from rocks and artemisia. To our left, below,
was the great sage plain ; and on the right were the near mountains, which
presented a smoothly broken character, or rather a surface waved into
numberless hills. The road was occasionally enlivened by meeting In-
dians, and the day was extremely beautiful and pleasant ; and we -were
pleased to be free from the sage, even for a day. When we had trav-
elled about 8 miles, we were nearly opposite to the highest portion of the
mountains on the left side of the Smoke river valley; and, continuing on a
few miles beyond, we came suddenly in sight of the broad green line of
the valley of the Riviere Bois&e , (wooded river,) black near the gorge
where it debouches into the plains, with high precipices of basalt, between
walls of which it passes, on emerging from the mountains. Following
with the eye its upward course, it appears to be shut in among lofty moun-
tains, confining its valley in a very rugged country.

Descending the hills, after travelling a few miles along the high plain,
the road brought us down upon the bottoms of the river, which is a beau-
tiful rapid stream, with clear mountain water, and, as the name indicates,
well wooded with some varieties of timber — among which are handsome cot-
tonwoods. Such a stream had become quite a novelty in this country, and

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C 1^4 1

we were delighted this afternoon to make a pleasant camp under fine old
trees again. There were several Indian encampments scattered along the
river; and a number of their inhabitants, in the course of the evening,
came to the camp on horseback with dried and fresh fish to trade. The
evening was clear, and the temperature at sunset 57°.

At the time of the first occupation of this region by parties engaged in

the fur trade, a small party of men under the command of Reid,

constituting all the garrison of a little fort on this river, were surprised and
massacred by the Indians; and to this event the stream owes its occasional
name of Reid’s river.

On the 8th we travelled about 26 miles, the ridge on the right having
scattered pines on the upper parts; and, continuing the next day our road
along the river bottom, after a day’s travel of 24 miles we encamped in
the evening on the right bank of the river, a mile above the mouth, and
early the next morning arrived at Fort Boise. This is a simple dwelling-
house on the right bank of Snake river, about a mile below the mouth of
Riviere Boissee ; and on our arrival we were received with an agreeable
hospitality by Mr. Payette, an officer of the Hudson Bay Company, in
charge of the fort; all of whose garrison consisted in a Canadian engage .

Here the road recrosses the river, wfflich is broad and deep; but, with
our good boat, aided by two canoes, which were found at the place, the
camp wTas very soon transferred to the left bank. Here we found ourselves
again surrounded by the sage ; artemisia tridentata, and the different shrubs
which during our voyage had always made their appearance abundantly
on saline soils, being here the prevailing and almost the only plants.
Among them the surface was covered with the usual saline efflorescences,
which here consist almost entirely of carbonate of soda, w7ith a small por-
tion of chloride of sodium. Mr. Payette had made but slight attempts at
cultivation, his efforts being limited to raising a few vegetables, in which
he succeeded tolerably well ; the post being principally supported by sal-
mon. He was very hospitable and kind to us, and we made a sensible im-
pression upon all his comestibles ; but our principal inroad was into the
dairy, which was abundantly supplied, stock appearing to thrive extremely
well ; and we had an unusual luxury in a present of fresh butter, which
was, however, by no means equal to that of Fort Hall — probably from
some accidental cause. During the day we remained here, there were
considerable numbers of miserable half naked Indians around the fort, who
had arrived from the neighboring mountains. During the summer, the
only subsistence of these people is derived from the salmon, of which they
are not provident enough to lay up a sufficient store for the winter, during
which many of them die from absolute starvation.

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

Pointing to a group of Indians wfflo had just arrived from the mountains
on the left side of the valley, and who were regarding our usual appliances
of civilization with an air of bewildered curiosity, Mr. Payette informed me

174

[ 174 ]

that, every year since his arrival at this post, he had unsuccessfully en-
deavored to induce these people to lay up a store of salmon for their winter
provision. While the summer weather and the salmon lasted, they lived
contentedly and happily, scattered along the different streams where the
fish were to be found ; and as soon as the winter snows began to fall, little
smokes would be seen rising among the mountains, where they would be
found in miserable groups, starving out the winter ; and sometimes, accord-
ing to the general belief, reduced to the horror of cannibalism — the strong,
of course, preying on the weak. Certain it is, they are driven to any ex-
tremity for food, and eat every insect, and every creeping thing, howrever
loathsome and repulsive. Snails, lizards, ants — all are devoured with the
readiness and greediness of mere animals.

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

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

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

October 11. — The morning was clear, with a light breeze from the east,
and a temperature at sunrise of 33°. A part of a bullock purchased at the
fort, together with the boat to assist him in crossing, was left here for Mr.
Fitzpatrick, and at 11 o’clock we resumed our journey ; and directly leav-
ing the river, and crossing the artemisia plain, in several ascents we reached
the foot of a ridge, where the road entered a dry sandy hollow, up which
it continued to the head ; and, crossing a dividing ridge, entered a similar
one. We met here tw7o poor emigrants, ( Irishmen,) who had lost their horses
two days since — probably stolen by the Indians; and were returning to the
fort, in hopes to hear something of them there. They had recently had noth-
ing to eat ; and I halted to unpack an animal, and gave them meat for their
dinner. In this hollow, the artemisia is partially displaced on the hill sides
by grass; and descending it — miles, about sunset we reached the Riviere
aux Malheurs , (the unfortunate or unlucky river,) a considerable stream,
with an average breadth of 50 feet, and, at thistime, 18 inches depth of water.

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

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

175

C 174 ]

Leading for 5 miles up a broad dry branch of the Malheurs river, the
road entered a sandy hollow, where the surface was rendered firm by the
admixture of other rock ; being good and level until arriving near the head
of the ravine, where it became a little rocky, and we met with a number of
sharp ascents over an undulating surface. Crossing here a dividing ridge,
it became an excellent road of gradual descent down a very marked hollow ;
in which, after 10 miles, willows began to appear in the dry bed of a head
of the Riviere aux Rouleaux , (Birch river;) and descending 7 miles, we
found, at its junction with another branch, a little water, not very good or
abundant, but sufficient in case of necessity for a camp. Crossing Birch
river, we continued for about 4 miles across a point of hill ; the country on
the left being entirely mountainous, with no level spot to be seen ; whence
we descended to Snake river — here a fine-looking stream, with a large body
of water and a smooth current ; although we hear the roar, and see below
us the commencement of rapids where it enters among the hills. It forms
here a deep bay, with a low sand island in the midst ; and its course among
the mountains is agreeably exchanged for the black volcanic rock. The
weather during the day had been very bright and extremely hot ; but, as
usual, so soon as the sun went down, it was necessary to put on overcoats.

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

October 13. — The morning was bright, with the temperature at sunset
28°. The horses had strayed off during the night, probably in search of
grass ; and, after a considerable delay, we had succeeded in finding all but
two, when, about 9 o’clpck, we heard the sound of an Indian song and
drum approaching; and shortly after, three Cayuse Indians appeared in
sight, bringing with them the two animals. They belonged to a party
which had been on a buffalo hunt in the neighboihood of the Rocky moun-
tains, and were hurrying home in advance. We presented them writh
some tobacco, and other things, with which they appeared well satisfied,
and, moderating their pace, travelled in company with us.

We were now about to leave the valley of the great southern branch of
the Columbia river, to which the absence of timber, and the scarcity of
water, give the appearance of a desert, to enter a mountainous region where
the soil is good, and in which the face of the country is covered with nutri-
tious grasses and dense forest — land embracing many varieties of trees pe-
culiar to the country, and on which the timber exhibits a luxuriance of
growth unknown to the eastern part of the continent and to Europe. This
mountainous region connects itself in the southward and westward with
the elevated country belonging to the Cascade or California range ; and,
as will be remarked in the course of the narrative, forms the eastern limit of
the fertile and timbered lands along the desert and mountainous region in-
cluded within the Great Basin — a term which I apply to the intermediate
region between the Rocky mountains and the next range, containing many
lakes, with their own system of rivers and creeks, (of which the Great Salt
is the principal, ) and which have no connexion with the ocean, or the great
rivers which flow into it. This Great Basin is yet to be adequately explored.
And here, on quitting the banks of a sterile river, to enter on arable moun-
tains, the remark may be made, that, on this western slope of our continent,

176

[ 174 ]

the usual order or distribution of good and bad soil is often reversed ; the
river and creek bottoms being often sterile, and darkened with the gloomy
and barren artemisia ; while the mountain is often fertile, and covered
with rich grass, pleasant to the eye, and good for flocks and herds.

Leaving entirely the Snake river, which is said henceforth to pursue its
course through canons, amidst rocky and impracticable mountains, where
there is no possibility of travelling with animals, we ascended a long and
somewhat steep hill ; and crossing the dividing ridge, came down into the
valley of Burnt river, which here looks like a hole among the hills. The
average breadth of the stream here is 30 feet; it is well fringed with the
usual small timber; and the soil in the bottoms is good, with better grass
than we had lately been accustomed to see.

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

We found in the evening some good grass and rushes; and encamped
among large timber, principally birch, which had been recently burnt and
blackened, and almost destroyed by fire. The night was calm and tolera-
bly clear, with the thermometer at sunset at 59°. Our journey to-day was
about 20 miles.

October 14. — The day wTas clear and calm, with a temperature at sunrise
of 46°. After travelling about three miles up the valley, we found the
river shut up by precipices in a kind of canon, and the road makes a cir-
cuit over the mountains. In the afternoon we reached the river again, by
another little ravine ; and, after travelling along it for a few miles, left it
enclosed among rude mountains; and, ascending a smaller branch, en-
camped on it about 5 o’clock, very much elevated above the valley. The
viewr was every where limited by mountains, on which were no longer seen
the black and barren rocks, but a fertile soil, w7ith excellent grass, and
partly well covered with pine. I have never seen a wagon road equally
bad in the same space, as this of yesterday and to-day. I noticed where
one wagon had been overturned twice, in a very short distance ; and it
w7as surprising to me that those wagons which were in the rear, and could
not have had much assistance, got through at all. Still, there is no mud;
and the road has one advantage, in being perfectly firm. The day had
been warm and very pleasant, and the night was perfectly clear.

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[ 174 ]'

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

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

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

October 16. — For several weeks the weather in the daytime has been
very beautiful, clear, and warm ; but the nights, in comparison, are very
cold. During the night there was ice a quarter of an inch thick in the
lodge ; and at daylight the thermometer was at 1 6°, and the same at sun-
rise; the weather being calm and clear. The annual vegetation now is
nearly gone, almost all the plants being out of bloom.

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

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

October 17. — Thermometer at sunrise 25°. The weather at daylight
was fine, and the sky without a cloud ; but these came up, or were formed
with the sun, and at 7 were thick over all the sky. Just now, this appears
to be the regular course — clear and brilliant during the night, and cloudy

12

178

[ 174 ]

during the day. There is snow yet visible in the neighboring mountains*
which yesterday extended along our route to the left, in a lofty and dark-
blue range, having much the appearance of the Wind river mountains.
It is probable that they have received their name of the Blue mountains
from the dark-blue appearance given to them by the pines. We travelled
this morning across the affluents to Powder river, the road being good, firm*
and level ; and the country became constantly more pleasant and interest-
ing. The soil appeared to be very deep, and is black and extremely good*
as well among the hollows of the hills on the elevated plats, as on the river
bottoms ; the vegetation being such as is usually found in good ground.
The following analytical result shows the precise qualities of this soil, and
will justify to science the character of fertility which the eye attributes .
to it :

Analysis of Powder river soil.

Silica -

-

-

-

.

72.30

Alumina -

-

-

-

-

6.25

Carbonate of lime

.

-

-

-

6.80

Carbonate of magnesia -

-

-

-

-

4.62

Oxide of iron

-

-

• -

-

1.20

Organic matter

-

-

-

4.50

Water and loss

4.27

100.00

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

179

[ 174 3

the bed of a dry salt lake, or marsh, very firm and bare, which was covered
thickly with a fine white powder, containing a large quantity of carbonate
of soda, (thirty-three in one hundred parts.)

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

Analysis of the Grand Bond soil. ■

Silica -
Alumina -

Lime and magnesia -

Oxide of iron -

Vegetable matter, partly decomposed
Water and loss -
Phosphate of lime -

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

October 18. — It began to rain an hour before sunrise, and continued until
10 o’clock ; the sky entirely overcast, and the temperature at sunrise 48°.

We resumed our journey somewhat later than usual, travelling in a
nearly north direction across this beautiful valley ; and about noon reached
a place on one of the principal streams, where I had determined to leave
the emigrant trail, in the expectation of finding a more direct and better
road across the Blue mountains. At this place the emigrants appeared to
have held some consultation as to their further route, and finally turned
directly off to the left ; reaching the foot of the mountain in about three
miles, which they ascended by a hill as steep and difficult as that by which
we had yesterday descended to the Rond. Quitting, therefore, this road,
which, after a very rough crossing, issues from the mountains by the heads
of the ZJmatilah river, we continued our northern course across the valley,
following an Indian trail which had been indicated to me by Mr. Payette,
and encamped at the northern extremity of the Grand Rond, on a slough-
like stream of very deep water, without any apparent current. There are
some pines here on the low hills at the creek ; and in the northwest corner
of the Rond is a very heavy body of timber, which descends into the plain..
The clouds, which had rested very low along the mountain sides during
the day, rose gradually up in the afternoon ; and in the evening the sky
was almost entirely clear, with a temperature at sunset of 47°- Some in-
different observations placed the camp in longitude 117° 28' 26", latitude
4 5° 26' 47" ; and the elevation was 2,600 feet above the sea.

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

We passed out of the Grand Rond by a fine road along the creek, which,
for a short distance, runs in a kind of rocky chasm. Crossing a low point,
which was a little rocky, the trail conducted into the open valley of the
stream — a handsome place for farms ; the soil, even of the hills, being rich

70.81

10.97

1.38

2.21

8.16

5.46

1.01

100.00

180

C 174 ]

and black. Passing through a point of pines, which bore evidences of
being much frequented by the Indians, and in which the trees were some-
times apparently 200 feet high and 3 to 7 feet in diameter, we halted
for a few minutes in the afternoon at the foot of the Blue mountains, on
a branch of the Grand Rond river, at an elevation of 2,700 feet. Resuming
our journey, we commenced the ascent of the mountain through an open
pine forest of large and stately trees, among which the balsam pine made
its appearance ; the road being good, with the exception of one steep ascent,
with a corresponding descent, which might both have been easily avoided
by opening a way for a short distance through the timber. It would have
been well had we encamped on the stream where we had halted below, as
the night overtook us on the mountain, and we were obliged to encamp
without water, and tie up the animals to the trees for the night. We had
halted on a smooth open place of a narrow ridge, which descended very
rapidly to a ravine or piney hollow, at a considerable distance below ; and
it was quite a pretty spot, had there been water near. But the fires at
night look very cheerless after a day’s march, when there is no preparation
for supper going on ; and, after sitting some time around the blazing logs,
Mr. Preuss and Carson, with several others, volunteered to take the India
rubber buckets and go down into the ravine in search of water. It was a
very difficult way in the darkness down the slippery side of the steep moun-
tain, and harder still to climb about half a mile up again ; but they found,
the water, and the cup of coffee (which it enabled us to make) and bread
were only enjoyed with greater pleasure.

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

October 20. — There was a heavy white frost during the night, and at
sunrise the temperature was 37°.

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

At the end of three miles, we halted at an open place near the summit,
from which we enjoyed a fine view over the mountainous country where
we had lately travelled, to take a barometrical observation at the height of
1,760 feet.

After travelling occasionally through open places in the forest, we were
obliged to cut a way through a dense body of timber, from which we

181

[ 174 ]

emerged on an open mountain side, where we found a number of small
springs, and encamped after a day’s journey of 10 miles. Our elevation
here was 5,000 feet.

October 21. — There was a very heavy white frost during the night, and
the thermometer at sunrise was 30°.

We continued to travel through the forest, in which the road was ren-
dered difficult by fallen trunks, and obstructed by many small trees, which
it was necessary to cut down. But these are only accidental difficulties,,
which could easily be removed, and a very excellent road may be had
through this pass, with no other than very moderate ascents or declivities.
A laborious day, which had advanced us only six miles on our road, brought
us in the afternoon to an opening in the forest, in which there was a fine
mountain meadow, with good grass, and a large clear-water stream — one
of the head branches of the Umatilah river. During this day’s ourney>
the barometer was broken; and the elevations above the sea, hereafter given,
depend upon the temperature of boiling water. Some of the white spruces
which I measured to-day were twelve feet in circumference, and one of the
larches ten ; but eight feet was the average circumference of those measured
along the road. 1 held in my hand a tape line as I walked along, in order
to form some correct idea of the size of the timber. Their height appeared
to be from 100 to ISO, and perhaps 200 feet, and the trunks of the larches
were sometimes 100 feet without a limb; but the white spruces were gen-
erally covered with branches nearly to the root. All these trees have their
branches, particularly the lower ones, declining.

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

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

182

[ H4 ]

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

At sunset the thermometer was at 40°, and the night was very clear and
bright. Water was only to be had here by descending a bad ravine, into
which we drove our animals, and had much trouble with them, in a very
dose growth of small pines. Mr. Preuss had walked ahead, and did not get
mto camp this evening. The trees here maintained their size, and one of the
black spruces measured 1 5 feet in circumference. In the neighborhood of
the camp, pines have reappeared here among the timber.

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

After cutting through two thick bodies of timber, in which I noticed some
small trees of hemlock spruce, ( perusse ,) the forest became more open, and
we had no longer any trouble to clear a way. The pines here were 11 or 12
feet in circumference, and about 1 10 feet high, and appeared to love the open
grounds. The trail now led along one of the long spurs of the mountain,
descending gradually towards the plain; and after a few miles travelling, we
emerged finally from the forest, in full view of the plain below, and saw
the snowy mass of Mount Hood, standing high out above the surrounding
country, at the distance of 180 miles. The road along the ridge was ex-
cellent, and the grass very green and good; the old grass having been burnt
off early in the autumn. About 4 o’clock in the afternoon we reached a
little bottom on the Walahwalah river, where we found Mr. Preuss, who
yesterday had reached this place, and found himself too far in advance of
the camp to return. The stream here has just issued from the narrow ra-
vines, which are walled with precipices, in which the rock has a brown
and more burnt appearance than above.

At sunset the thermometer was at 48°; and our position was in longitude
1 18° 00' 39' , and in latitude 45° 53' 35".

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

In six miles we crossed a principal fork, below which the scattered water
of the river was gathered into one channel ; and, passing on the way sev-
eral unfinished houses, and some cleared patches, where corn and potatoes
were cultivated, we reached, in about eight miles farther, the missionary
establishment of Dr. Whitman, which consisted, at this time, of one adobe
house — i. e. built of unburnt bricks, as in Mexico.

I found Dr. Whitman absent on a visit to the Dalles of the Columbia ;
but had the pleasure to see a fine-looking large family of emigrants, men,

183

[ 174 ]

women, and children, in robust health, all indemnifying themselves for
previous scanty fare, in a hearty consumption of potatoes, which are pro-
duced here of a remarkably good quality. We were disappointed in our
expectation of obtaining corn meal or flour at this station, the mill belong-
ing to the mission having been lately burnt down ; but an abundant supply
of excellent potatoes banished regrets, and furnished a grateful substitute
for bread. A small town of Nez Perce Indians gave an inhabited and
even a populous appearance to the station ; and, after remaining about an
hour, we continued our route, and encamped on the river about four miles
below, passing on the way an emigrant encampment.

Temperature at sunset, 49°.

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

We did not go up to the junction, being pressed for time ; but the union
of two large sireams, coming one from the southeast, and the other from the
northeast, and meeting in what may be treated as the geographical centre of
the Oregon valley, thence doubling the volume of water to the ocean, while
opening two great lines of communication with the interior continent, con-
stitutes a feature in the map of the country which cannot be overlooked ;
and it was probably in reference to this junction of waters, and these lines
of communication, that this post was established. They are important lines,
and, from the structure of the country, must forever remain so — one of them
leading to the South Pass, and to the valley of the Mississippi ; the other
to the pass at the head of the Athabasca river, and to the countries drained
by the waters of the Hudson Bay. The British fur companies now use
both lines ; the Americans, in their emigration to Oregon, have begun to
follow the one which leads towards the United States. Batteaus from tide
water ascend to the junction, and thence high up the North fork, or Co-
lumbia. Land conveyance only is used upon the line of Lewis’s fork.

184

E 174 ]

To the emigrants to Oregon, the Nez Perce is a point of interest, as being,,
to those who choose it, the termination of their overland journey. The
broad expanse of the river here invites them to embark on its bosom ; and
the lofty trees of the forest furnish the means of doing so.

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

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

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

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

The sketch of a rock which we passed in the course of the morning is
annexed, to show the manner in which the basaltic rock, which constitutes
the geological formation of the Columbia valley, now presents itself. From
an elevated point over which the road led, we obtained another far view of
Mount Hood, 150 miles distant. We obtained on the river bank an obser-
vation of the sun at noon, which gave for the latitude 45° 58' 08". The
country to-day was very unprepossessing, and our road bad ; and as we
toiled slowly along through deep loose sands, and over fragments of black
volcanic rock, our laborious travelling was strongly contrasted with the
rapid progress of Mr. Applegate’s fleet of boats, which suddenly came glid-
ing swiftly down the broad river, which here chanced to be tranquil and
smooth. At evening we encamped on the river bank, where there was
very little grass, and less timber. We frequently met Indians on the road,
and they were collected at every favorable spot along the river.

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

October 31. — By observation, our camp is in latitude 45° 50' 05", and

EWfr <f li Salt

185

[ 174 ]

longitude 11 9° 22' 18". The night has been cold, and we have white
frost this morning, with a temperature at daylight of 25°, and at sunrise of
24°. The early morning was very clear, and the stars bright ; but, as
usual since we are on the Columbia, clouds formed immediately with the
rising sun. The day continued fine, the east being covered with scattered
clouds, but the west remaining clear ; showing the remarkable cone-like
peak of Mount Hood brightly drawn against the sky. This was in view
all day in the southwest, but no other peaks of the range were visible.
Our road was a bad one, of very loose deep sand. We met on the way a
party of Indians unusually well dressed, wearing clothes of civilized texture
and form. They appeared intelligent, and, in our slight intercourse, im-
pressed me with the belief that they possessed some aptitude for acquiring-
languages.

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

We made a late encampment on the river, and used to-night purshia
tridentata for fire wood. Among the rocks which formed the bank, was
very good green grass. Latitude 45° 44' 23", longitude 119° 45' 09".

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

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

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

November 3. — After two hours’ ride through a fertile, hilly country?
covered as all the upland here appears to be with good green grass, we de-
scended again into the river bottom, along which we resumed our sterile
road, and in about four miles reached the ford of the Fall river, ( Riviere

186

[ 174 ]

aux Chutes,) a considerable tributary to the Columbia. We bad heard, on
reaching the Nez Perce fort, a repetition of the account in regard to the
unsettled character of the Columbia Indians at the present time ; and to
our little party they had at various points manifested a not very friendly
disposition, in several attempts to steal our horses. At this place I expected
to find a badly disposed band, who had plundered a party of 14 emigrant
men a few days before, and taken away their horses ; and accordingly we
made the necessary preparations for our security, but happily met with no
difficulty.

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

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

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

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

In comparison with the Indians of the Rocky mountains and the great
eastern plain, these are disagreeably dirty in their habits. Their huts were
crowded with half-naked women and children, and the atmosphere within
any thing but pleasant to persons who had just been riding in the fresh
morning air. We were somewhat amused with the scanty dress of one

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woman, who, in common with the others, rushed out of the huts on our
arrival, and who, in default of other covering, used a child for a fig leaf.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our land journey found here its western termination. The delay in-
volved in getting our camp to the right bank of the Columbia, and in open-
ing a road through the continuous forest to Vancouver, rendered a journey
along the river impracticable ; and on this side the usual road across the
mountain required strong and fresh animals, there being an interval of
three days in which they could obtain no food. I therefore wrote imme-
diately to Mr. Fitzpatrick, directing him to abandon the carts at the Walah-
walah missionary station, and, as soon as the necessary pack saddles could

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be made, which his party required, meet me at the Dalles, from which point
I proposed to commence our homeward journey. The day after our ar-
rival being Sunday, no business could be done at the mission; but on
Monday Mr. Perkins assisted me in procuring from the Indians a large ca-
noe, in which I designed to complete our journey to Vancouver, where I
expected to obtain the necessary supply of provisions and stores for our
winter journey. Three Indians, from the family to whom the canoe be-
longed, were engaged to assist in working her during the voyage, and, with
them, our water party consisted of Mr. Preuss and myself, with Bernier and
Jacob Dodson. In charge of the party which was to remain at the Dalles
I left Carson, with instructions to occupy the people in making pack saddles
and refitting their equipage. The village from which we were to take the
canoe was on the right bank of the river, about ten miles below, at the
mouth of the Tinanens creek; and while Mr. Preuss proceeded down the
river with the instruments, in a little canoe paddled by two Indians, Mr.
Perkins accompanied me with the remainder of the party by land. The
last of the emigrants had just left the Dalles at the time of our arrival, trav-
elling some by water and others by land, making ark-like rafts, on which
they had embarked their families and household, with their large wagons
and other furniture, while their stock were driven along the shore.

For about five miles below the Dalles, the river is narrow, and probably
very deep ; but during this distance it is somewhat open, with grassy bot-
toms on the left. Entering, then, among the lower mountains of the Cas-
cade range, it assumes a general character, and high and steep rocky hills
shut it in on either side, rising abruptly in places to the height of 1,50Q
feet above the water, and gradually acquiring a more mountainous char-
acter as the river approaches the Cascades.

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

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

Accordingly, after an hour’s halt, we again embarked, and resumed our
pleasant voyage down the river. The wind rose to a gale after several
hours ; but the moon was very bright, and the wind was fair, and the canoe
glanced rapidly down the stream, the waves breaking into foam alongside;
and our night voyage, as the wind bore us rapidly along between the dark
mountains, was wild and interesting. About midnight we put to the shore
on a rocky beach, behind which was a dark-looking pine forest. We built

\

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up large fires among the rocks, which were in large masses round about ;
and, arranging our blankets on the most sheltered places we could find,
passed a delightful night.

After an early breakfast, at daylight we resumed our journey, the weather
being clear and beautiful, and the river smooth and still. On either side
the mountains are all pine-timbered, rocky, and high. We were now ap-
proaching one of the marked features of the lower Columbia, where the
river forms a great cascade , with a series of rapids, in breaking through the
range of mountains to which the lofty peaks of Mount Hood and St. Helens
belong, and which rise as great pillars of snow on either side of the passage.
The main branch of the Sacramento river, and the Tlamath , issue in cas-
cades from this range ; and the Columbia, breaking through it in a succes-
sion of cascades, gives the idea of cascades to the whole range ; and hence
the name of the Cascade Range, which it bears, and distinguishes it from
the Coast Range lower down. In making a short turn to the south, the river
forms the cascades in breaking over a point of agglomerated masses of rock,
leaving a handsome bay to the right, with several rocky pine-covered
islands, and the mountains sweep at a distance around a cove where several
small streams enter the bay. In less than an hour we halted on the left
bank, about five minutes’ walk above the cascades, where there were several
Indian huts, and where our guides signified it \?as customary to hire Indians
to assist in making the portage . When travelling with a boat as light as
a canoe, which may easily be carried on the shoulders of the Indians, this
is much the better side of the river for the portage, as the ground here is
very good and level, being a handsome bottom, which I remarked was
covered (as was now always the case along the river) with a growth of
green and fresh-looking grass. It was long before we could come to an un-
derstanding with the Indians ; but at length, when they had first received
the price of their assistance in goods, they went vigorously to work; and,
in a shorter time than had been occupied in making our arrangements,
the canoe, instruments, and baggage, were carried through (a distance of
about half a mile) to the bank below the main cascade, where we again em-
barked, the water being white with foam among ugly rocks, and boiling
into a thousand whirlpools. The boat passed with great rapidity, crossing
and recrossing in the eddies of the current. After passing through about 2
miles of broken water, we ran some wild-looking rapids, which are called
the Lower Rapids, being the last on the river, which below is tranquil and
smooth — a broad, magnificent stream. On a low broad point on the right
bank of the river, at the lower end of these rapids, were pitched many
tents of the emigrants, who were waiting here for their friends from above,
or for boats and provisions which were expected from Vancouver. In our
passage down the rapids, I had noticed their camps along the shore, or
transporting their goods across the portage. This portage makes a head
of navigation, ascending the river. It is about two miles in length; anl
above, to the Dalles, is 45 miles of smooth and good navigation.

We glided on without further interruption between very rocky and high
steep mountains, which sweep along the river valley at a little distance,
covered with forests of pine, and showing occasionally lofty escarpments of
red rock. Nearer, the shore is bordered by steep escarped hills and huge
vertical rocks, from which the waters of the mountain reach the river in a
variety of beautiful falls, sometimes several hundred feet in height. Occa-
sionally along the river occurred pretty bottoms, covered with the greenest

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verdure of the spring. To a professional farmer, however, it does not offer
many places of sufficient extent to be valuable for agriculture; and after
passing a few miles below the Dalles, I had scarcely seen a place on the
south shore where wagons could get to the river. The beauty of the
scenery was heightened by the continuance of very delightful weather, re-
sembling the Indian summer of the Atlantic. A few miles below the cas-
cades we passed a singular isolated hill ; and in the course of the next six
miles occurred five very pretty falls from the heights on the left bank, one
of them being of a very picturesque character ; and towards sunset we
reached a remarkable point of rocks, distinguished, on account of prevailing
high winds, and the delay it frequently occasions to the canoe navigation,
by the name of Cape Horn. It borders the river in a high wall of rock,
which comes boldly down into deep water ; and in violent gales down the
river, and from the opposite shore, which is the prevailing direction of
strong winds, the water is dashed against it with considerable violence. It
appears to form a serious obstacle to canoe travelling ; and I was informed
by Mr. Perkins, that in a voyage up the river he had been detained two
weeks at this place, and was finally obliged to return to Vancouver.

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

The hills here had lost something of their rocky appearance, and had
already begun to decline. As the sun went down, we searched along the
river for an inviting spot; and, finding a clean rocky beach, where some
large dry trees were lying on the ground, we ran our boat to the shore ;
and, after another comfortable supper, ploughed our way along the river in
darkness. Heavy clouds covered the sky this evening, and the wind began
to sweep in gusts among the trees, as if bad weather were coming. As we
advanced, the hills on both sides grew constantly lower ; on the right, re-
treating from the shore, and forming a somewhat extensive bottom of inter-
mingled prairie and wooded land. In the course of a few hours, and op-
posite to a small stream coming in from the north, called the Tea Prairie
river, the highlands on the left declined to the plains, and three or four miles
below disappeared entirely on both sides, and the river entered the low
country. The river had gradually expanded ; and when we emerged from
the higlands, the opposite shores were so distant as to appear indistinct in
the uncertainty of the light. About 10 o’clock our pilots halted, apparently to
confer about the course ; and, after a little hesitation, pulled directly across
an open expansion of the river, where the waves were somewhat rough for
a canoe, the wind blowing very fresh. Much to our surprise, a few min-
utes afterwards we ran aground. Backing off our boat, we made repeated
trials at various places to cross what appeared to be a point of shifting sand
bars, where we had attempted to shorten the way by a cut-off. Finally, one
of our Indians got into the water, and waded about until he found a channel
sufficiently deep, through which we wound along after him, and in a few
minutes again entered the deep water below. As we paddled rapidly down
the river, we heard the noise of a saw mill at work on the right bank ; and,
letting our boat float quietly down, we listened with pleasure to the unusual
sounds ; and before midnight encamped on the bank of the river, about a
mile above Fort Vancouver. Our fine dry weather had given place to a
dark cloudy night. At midnight it began to rain ; and we found ourselves

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suddenly in the gloomy and humid season, which, in the narrow region
lying between the Pacific and the Cascade mountains, and for a considerable
distance along the coast, supplies the place of winter.

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

Of course, the future supplies for my party were paid for, bills on the
Government of the United States being readily taken; but every hospitable
attention was extended to me, and I accepted an invitation to take a room
in the fort, “ and to make myself at home while 1 staid.”

I found many American emigrants at the fort; others had already crossed
the river into their land of promise — the Walahmette valley. Others were
daily arriving; and all of them had been furnished with shelter, so far as
it could be afforded by the buildings connected with the establishment.
Necessary clothing and provisions (the latter to be afterwards returned in
kind from the produce of their labor) were also furnished. This friendly
assistance was of very great value to the emigrants, whose families were
otherwise exposed to much suffering in the winter rains, which had now
commenced, at the same time that they were in want of all the common
necessaries of life. Those who had taken a water conveyance at the Nez
Perce fort continued to arrive safely, with no other accident than has been
already mentioned. The party which had passed over the Cascade moun-
tains were reported to have lost a number of their animals; and those who
had driven their stock down the Columbia had brought them safely in, and
found for them a ready and very profitable market, and were already pro-
posing to return to the States in the spring for another supply.

In the space of two days our preparations had been completed, and we
were ready to set out on our return. It would have been very gratifying
to have gone down to the Pacific, and, solely in the interest and in the love
of geography, to have seen the ocean on the western as well as on the east-
ern side of the continent, so as to give a satisfactory completeness to the
geographical picture which had been formed in our minds ; but the rainy
season had now regularly set in, and the air was filled with fogs and rain,
which left no beauty in any scenery, and obstructed observations. The

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object of my instructions had been entirely fulfilled in having connected
our reconnoissance with the surveys of Captain Wilkes; and although it
would have been agreeable and satisfactory to terminate here also our
ruder astronomical observations, I was not, for such a reason, justified to
make a delay in waiting for favorable weather.

Near sunset of the 10th, the boats left the fort, and encamped after
making only a few miles. Our flotilla consisted of a Mackinaw barge and
three canoes — one of them that in which we had descended the river; and
a party in all of 20 men. One of the emigrants, Mr. Burnet, of Missouri,
who had left his family and property at the Dalles, availed himself of the
opportunity afforded by the return of our boats to bring them down to
Vancouver. This gentleman, as well as the Messrs. Applegate, and others
of the emigrants whom I saw, possessed intelligence and character, with
the moral and intellectual stamina, as well as the enterprise, which give
solidity and respectability to the foundation of colonies.

November 11. — The morning was rainy and misty. We did not move
with the practised celerity of my own camp; and it was near 9 o’clock
when our motley crew had finished their breakfast and were ready to start.
Once afloat, however, they worked steadily and well, and we advanced at
a good rate up the river ; and in the afternoon a breeze sprung up, which
enabled us to add a sail to the oars. At evening we encamped on a warm-
looking beach, on the right bank, at the foot of the high river hill, immedi-
ately at the lower end of Cape Horn. On the opposite shore is said to be
a singular hole in the mountain, from which the Indians believe comes the
wind producing these gales. It is called the Devil’s hole; and the Indians,
I was told, have been resolving to send down one of their slaves to explore
the region below. At dark, the wind shifted into its stormy quarter, gradu-
ally increasing to a gale from the southwest; and the sky becoming clear,
I obtained a good observation of an emersion of the first satellite; the result
of which, being an absolute observation, I have adopted for the longitude
of the place.

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

November 13. — We had a day of disagreeable and cold rain; and, late,
in the afternoon, began to appr )ach the rapids of the cascades. There is
here a high timbered island on the left shore, below which, in descending,
I had remarked in a bluff on the river the extremities of trunks of trees
appearing to be imbedded in the rock. Landing here this afternoon, I
found in the lower part of the escarpment a stratum of coal and forest
trees, imbedded between strata of altered clay containing the remains of
vegetables, the leaves of which indicate that the plants were dicotyledonous.
Among these, the stems of some of the ferns are not mineralized, but merely
charred, retaining still their vegetable structure and substance; and in this
condition a portion also of the trees remain. The indurated appearance
and compactness of the strata, as well, perhaps, as the mineralized condi-
tion of the coal, are probably due to igneous action. Some portions of the

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coal precisely resemble in aspect the cannel coal of England, and, with the
accompanying fossils, have been referred to the tertiary formation.

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

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

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

The masses of rock displayed along the shores of the ravine in the
neighborhood of the cascades are clearly volcanic products. Between. this
cove, which- 1 called Grave-yard bay, and another spot of smooth water
above, on the right, called Luders bay, sheltered by a jutting point of huge
rocky masses at the foot of the cascades, the shore along the intervening
rapids is lined with precipices of distinct strata of red and variously colored
lavas, in inclined positions.

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

Wherever we came in contact with the rocks of these mountains, we
found them volcanic, which is probably the character of the range ; and
at this time, two of the great snowy cones, Mount Regnier and St. Helens,
were in action. On the 23d of the preceding November, St. Helens had
• 13

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scattered its ashes, like a light fall of snow, over the Dalles of the Colum-
bia, 50 miles distant. A specimen of these ashes was given to me by Mr.
Brewer, one of the clergymen at the Dalles.

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

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

A gentleman named Luders, a botanist from the city of Hamburg, ar-
rived at the bay 1 have called by his name while we were occupied in bring-
ing up the boats. I was delighted to meet at such a place a man of kindred
pursuits; but we had only the pleasure of a brief conversation, as his canoe,
under the guidance of two Indians, was about to run the rapids; and I
could not enjoy the satisfaction of regaling him with a breakfast, which,
after his recent journey, would have been an extraordinary luxury. All
of his few instruments and baggage were in the canoe, and he hurried
around by land to meet it at the Grave-yard bay; but he was scarcely out
of sight, when, by the carelessness of the Indians, the boat was drawn into
the midst of the rapids, and glanced down the river, bottom up, with the
loss of every thing it contained In the natural concern I felt for his mis-
fortune, I gave to the little cove the name of Luders bay.

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

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

The Canadian emigrant was much chagrined at the change of climate,
and informed me that, only a few miles above, they had left a country of
bright blue sky and a shining sun. The next morning the upper parts of

195 [ 174 ]

the mountains which directly overlook the cascades were white with the
freshly fallen snow, while it continued to rain steadily below.

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

November 17. — We had to-day an opportunity to complete the sketch
of that portion of the river down which we had come by night, and of which
I will not give a particular description, which the small scale of our map
would not illustrate. Many places occur along the river, where the s;umps,
or rather portions of the trunks of pine trees, are standing along the shore,
and in the water, where they may be seen at a considerable depth below
the surface, in the beautifully clear water. These collections of dead trees
are called oi>4he Columbia the submerged forest, and are supposed to have
been created by the effects of some con vulsion which formed the cascades,
and which, by damming up the river, placed these trees under water and
destroyed them. But I venture to presume that the cascades are older
than the trees; and as these submerged forests occur at five or six placesalong
the river, I had an opportunity to satisfy myself that they have been formed
by immense land slides from the mountains, which here closely shut in the
river, and which brought down with them into the river the pities of the
mountain. At one place, on the right bank, I remarked a place where a
portion of one of these slides seemed to have planted itself, with all the
evergreen foliage, and the vegetation of the neighboring hill, directly
amidst the falling and yellow leaves of the river trees. It occurred to me
that this would have been a beautiful illustration to the eye of a botanist.

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

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

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

Nove?iiber 18. — The day again was- pleasant and bright. At 10 o'clock
we passed a rock island, on the right shore of the river, which the Indians
use as a burial ground ; and, halting for a short time, about an hour after-
wards, at the village of our Indian Iriends, early in the afternoon we ar-
rived again at the Dalles.

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

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[ 174 ]

The camp was now occupied in making the necessary preparations for
our homeward journey, which, though homeward, contemplated a new
route, and a great circuit to the south and southeast, and the exploration
of the Great Basin between the Rocky mountains and the Sierra Nevada.
Three principal objects were indicated, by report or by maps, as being on
this route; the character or existence of which I wished to ascertain, and
which I assumed as landmarks, or leading points, on the projected line of
return. The first of these points was the Tlamath lake, on the table
land between the head of Fall river, which comes to the Columbia, and
the Sacramento, which goes to the bay of San Francisco ; and from which
lake a river of the same name makes its way westwardly direct to the
ocean. This lake and river are often called Klamet , but I have chosen to
write its name according to the Indian pronunciation. The position of
this lake, on the line of inland communication between Oregon and Cali-
fornia ; its proximity to the demarcation boundary of latitude 42°; its im-
puted double character of lake, or meadow, according to the season of
the year ; and the hostile and warlike character attributed to the Indians
about it — all made it a desirable object to visit and examine. From this
lake our course was intended to be about southeast, to a reported lake
called Mary’s, at some days’ journey in the Great Basin; and thence, still
on southeast, to the reputed Buenaventura river, which has had a place
in so many maps, and countenanced the belief of the existence of a great
river flowing from the Rocky mountains to the bay of San Francisco.
From the Buenaventura the next point was intended to be in that section
of the Rocky mountains which includes the heads of Arkansas river, and
of the opposite waters of the Californian gulf; and thence down the Ar-
kansas to Bent’s fort, and home. This was our projected line of return —
a great part of it absolutely new to geographical, botanical, and geological
science — and the subject of reports in relation to lakes, rivers, deserts, and
savages hardly above the condition of mere wild animals, which inflamed
desire to know what this terra incognita really contained. It was a se-
rious enterprise, at the commencement of winter, to undertake the traverse
of such a region, and with a party consisting only of twenty -five persons,
and they of many nations — American, French, German, Canadian, Indian,
and colored —and most of them young, several being under twenty-one
years of age. All knew that a strange country was to be explored, and
dangers and hardships to be encountered ; but no one blenched at the pros-
pect. On the contrary, courage and confidence animated the whole party.
Cheerfulness, readiness, subordination, prompt obedience, characterized all ;
nor did any extremity of peril and privation, to which we were afterwards
exposed, ever belie, or derogate from, the fine spirit of this brave and gen-
erous commencement. The course of the narrative will show at what
point, and for what reasons, we were prevented from the complete execu-
tion of this plan, after having made considerable progress upon it, and how
we were forced by desert plains and mountain ranges, and deep snows, far
to the south and near to the Pacific ocean, and along the western base of
the Sierra Nevada; where, indeed, a new and ample field of exploration
opened itself before us. For the present, we must follow the narrative,
which will first lead us south along thewalley of Fall river, and the east-
ern base of the Cascade range, to the Tlamath lake, from which, or its
margin, three rivers go in three directions — one west, to the ocean ; another
north, to the Columbia; the third south, to California.

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

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

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

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

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

November 25. — We were all up early, in the excitement of turning to-
wards home. The stars were brilliant, and the morning cold — the ther-
mometer at daylight 26°.

Our preparations had been finally completed, and to-day we commenced
our journey. The little wagon which had hitherto carried the instruments
I judged it necessary to abandon; and it was accordingly presented to the
mission. In all our long travelling, it had never been overturned or injured
by any accident of the road ; and the only things broken were the glass

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]

lamps, and one of the front panels, which had been kicked out by ai/un-
ruly Indian horse. The howitzer was the only wheeled carriage now re-
maining. We started about noon, when the weather had become dis-
agreeably cold, with flurries of snow. Our friend Mr. Perkins, whose
kindkess had been active and efficient during our stay, accompanied us sev-
eral miles on our road; when he bade us farewell, and consigned us to the
care of our guides. Ascending to the uplands beyond the southern fork of
the Tinaneiis .creek, we found the snow lying on the ground in frequent
patches, although the pasture appeared good, and the new short grass was
fresh and green. We travelled over high, hilly land, and encamped on a
little branch of Tinanens creek, where there were good grass and timber.
The southern bank was covered with snow, which was scattered over the
bottom; and the little creek, its borders lined with ice, had a chilly and
wintry look. A number of Indians had accompanied us ,so far on our
road, and remained with us during the night. Two bad-looking fellows,
who were detected in stealing, were tied and laid before the fire, and guard
mounted over them during the night. The night was cold, and partially
clear.

November 26. — The morning was cloudy and misty, and but a few stars
visible. During the night water froze in the tents, and at sunrise the ther-
mometer was at 20°. Left camp at 10 o’clock, the road leading along tribu-
taries of the Tinanens, and being, so far, very good. We turned to the
right at the fork of the trail, ascending by a steep ascent along a spur to the
dividing grounds between this stream and the waters of Fall river. The
creeks we had passed were timbered principally with oak and other de-
ciduous trees. Snow lies every where here on the ground, and we had a
slight fall during the morning : but towards noon the gray sky yielded to a
bright sun. This morning we had a grand view of St. Helens and Reg-
nier : the latter appeared of a conical form, and very lofty, leading the eye
far up into the sky. The line of the timbered country is very distinctly
marked here, the bare hills making with it a remarkable contrast. The
summit of the ridge commanded a fine view of the Taih prairie, and the
stream running through it, which is a tributary to the Fall river, the chasm
of which is visible to the right. A steep descent of a mountain hill brought
us down into the valley, and we encamped on the stream after dark, guided
by the light of fires, which some naked Indians belonging to a village on
the opposite side were kindling for us on the bank. This is a large branch
of the Fall river. There was a broad band of thick ice some fifteen feet
wide on either bank, and the river current is swift and bold. The night
was cold and clear, and we made our astronomical observation this even-
ing with the thermometer at 20°.

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

November 27. — A fine view of Mount Hood this morning ; a rose-colored
mass of snow, bearing S. 85° W. by compass. The sky is clear, and the
air cold; the thermometer 2°.5 below zero ; the trees and bushes glittering
white, and the rapid stream filled with floating ice.

St He t si and the IVhite Crane , two Indian chiefs who had accompanied
us thus far, took their leave, and we resumed our journey at 10 o’clock.
We ascended by a steep hill from the river bottom, which is sandy, to a

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

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

November 28. — The sky was clear in the morning, but suddenly clouded
over, and at sunrise began to snow, with the thermometer at 18°.

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

At evening we encamped in a basin narrowly surrounded by rocky hills,
after a day’s journey of 21 miles. The surrounding rocks are either vol-
canic products, or highly altered by volcanic action, consisting of quartz
and reddish-colored siliceous masses.

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

We crossed the stream here, and ascended again to a high plain, from
an elevated point of which we obtained a view of six of the great peaks —
Mount Jefferson, followed to the southward by two others of the same class;
and succeeding, at a still greater distance to the southward, were three other

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[ 174 ]

lower peaks, clustering together in a branch ridge. These, like the great
peaks, were snowy masses, secondary only to them ; and, from the best ex-
amination our time permitted, we are inclined to believe that the range to
which they belong is a branch from the great chain which here bears to
the westward. The trail during the remainder of the day followed near
to the large stream on the left, which was continuously walled in between
high rocky banks. We halted for the night on a little by-stream.

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

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

At such places, the gun carriage was unlimbered, and separately descend-
ed by hand. Continuing a few miles up the left bank of the river, we en-
camped early in an open bottom among the pines, a short distance below a
lodge of Indians. Here, along the river the bluffs present escarpments
seven or eight hundred feet in height, containing strata of a very fine porce-
lain clay, overlaid, at the height of about five hundred feet, by a massive
stratum of compact basalt one hundred feet in thickness, which again is suc-
ceeded above by other strata of volcanic rocks. The clay strata are variously
colored, some of them very nearly as white as chalk, and very fine grained.
Specimens brought from these have been subjected to microscopical exami-
nation by Professor Bailey, of West Point, and are considered by hirp to
constitute one of the most remarkable deposites of fluviatile .infusoria on
record. While they abound in genera and species which are common in
fresh water, but which rarely thrive where the water is even brackish, not
one decidedly marine form is to be found among them ; and their fresh-
water origin is therefore beyond a doubt. It is equally certain that they
lived and died at the situation where they were found, as they could scarce-
ly have been transported by running waters without an admixture of sandy
particles; from which, however, they are remarkably free. Fossil infusoria
of a fresh-water origin had been previously detected by Mr. Bailey in speci-
mens brought by Mr. James D. Dana from the tertiary formation of Ore-
gon. Most of the species in those specimens differed so much from those
now living and known, that he was led to infer that they might belong to
extinct species, and considered them also as affording proof of an alterna-
tion, in the formation from which they were obtained, of fresh and salt
water deposites, which, common enough in Europe, had not hitherto been
noticed in the United States'. Coming evidently from a locality entirely

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[ 174 ]

different, our specimens* show very few species in common with those
brought by Mr. Dana, but bear a much closer resemblance to those inhab-
iting the northeastern States. It is possible that they are from a more, re-
cent deposite ; but the presence of a few remarkable forms which are com-
mon to the two localities renders it more probable that there is no great
difference in their age.

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

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

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

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

December 4. — Our animals had taken the back track, although a great
number were hobbled ; and we were consequently delayed until noon.
Shortly after we had left this encampment, the mountain trail from the

* The specimens obtained at this locality are designated in the appendix by the Nos. 53, 54, 55,
56, 57, 58, 59, 60. The results obtained by Mr. Bailey in his examination of specimens from
the infusorial strata, with a plate exhibiting some of the most interesting forms, will be found im-
bodied in the appendix.

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C 174 ]

Dalles joined that on which we were travelling. After passing for several
miles over an artemisia plain, the trail entered a beautiful pine forest,
through which we travelled for several hours ; and about 4 o’clock
descended into the valley of another large branch, on the bottom of which
were spaces of open pines, with occasional meadows of good grass, in one
of which we encamped. The stream is very swift and deep, and about 40
feet wide, and nearly half frozen over. Among the timber here, are larches
140 feet high, and over 3 feet in diameter. We had to-night the rare sight
of a lunar rainbow.

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

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

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

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

December 7. — To-day we had good travelling ground; the i rail leading
sometimes over rather sandy soils in the pine forest, and sometimes over

203

[ 1^4 ]

meadow land along the stream. The great beauty of the country in summer
constantly suggested itself to our imaginations; and even now we found it
beautiful, as we rode along these meadows, from half a mile to two miles-
wide. The rich soil and excellent water, surrounded by noble forests,
make a picture that would delight the eye of a farmer ; and I regret that
the very small scale of the map would not allow us to give some repre-
sentation of these features of the country.

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

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

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

December 10. — The country began to improve ; and about 11 o’clock we
reached a spring of cold water on the edge of a savannah, or grassy mea-
dow, which our guides informed us was an arm of the Tlamath lake ; and
a few miles further we entered upon an extensive meadow, or lake of grass,
surrounded by timbered mountains. This was the Tlamath lake. It was
a picturesque and beautiful spot, and rendered more attractive to us by the
abundant and excellent grass, which our animals, after travelling through
pine forests, so much needed; but the broad sheet of water which consti-
tutes a lake was not to be seen. Overlooking it, immediately west, were
several snowy knobs, belonging to what we have considered a branch of
the Cascade range. A low point covered with pines made out into the
lake, which afforded us a good place for an encampment, and for the secu-
rity of our horses, which were guarded in view on the open meadow. The
character of courage and hostility attributed to the Indians of this quarter
induced more than usual precaution ; and, seeing smokes rising from the
middle of the lake (or savannah) and along the opposite shores, I directed
the howitzer to be fired. It was the first time our guides had seen it dis-
charged ; and the bursting of the shell at a distance, which was something

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like the second fire of the gun, amazed and bewildered them with delight.
It inspired them with triumphant feelings ; but on the camps at a distance
the effect was different, for the smokes in the lake and on the shores im-
mediately disappeared.

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

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

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

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

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

Numbers of singular-looking dogs, resembling wolves, were sitting on

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[ 174 ]

the tops of the huts ; and of these we purchased a young one, which, after
its birthplace, was named Tlamath. The language spoken by these In-
dians is different from that of the Shoshonee and Columbia river tribes ;
and otherwise than by sighs they cannot understand each other. They
made us comprehend that they were at war with the people who lived to
the southward and to the eastward ; but I could obtain from them no cer-
tain information. The river on which they live enters the Cascade moun-
tains On the western side of the lake, and breaks through them by a pas-
sage impracticable for travellers ; but over the mountains, to the northward,
are passes which present no other obstacle than in the almo'st impenetrable
forests. Unlike any Indians we had previously seen, these wore shells in
their noses. We returned to our camp, after remaining here an hour or
two, accompanied by a number of Indians.

In order to recruit a little the strength of our animals, and obtain some
acquaintance with the locality, we remained here for the remainder of the
day. By observation, the latitude of the camp was 42° 56' 51"; and the
diameter of the lake, or meadow, as has been intimated, about 20 miles.

It is a picturesque and beautiful spot; and, under the hand of cultivation,
might become a little paradise. Game is found in the forest; timbered and
snowy mountains skirt it, and fertility characterizes it. Situated near the
heads of three rivers, and on the line of inland communication with Cali-
fornia, and near to Indians noted for treachery, it will naturally, in the pro-
gress of the settlement of Oregon, become a point for military occupation
and settlement.

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

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

According to the best information I had been able to obtain from the In-
dians, in a few days’ travelling we should reach another large water, prob-
ably a lake, which they indicated exactly in the course we were about to

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

December 13. — The night has been cold; the peaks around the lake
gleam out brightly in the morning stin, and the thermometer is at zero.
We continued up the hollow formed by a small affluent to the lake, and
immediately entered an open pine forest on the mountain. The way here
was sometimes obstructed by fallen trees, and the snow was four to twelve
inches deep. The mules at the gun pulled heavily, and walking was a
little laborious. In the midst of the wood, we heard the sound of galloping
horses, and were agreeably surprised by the unexpected arrival of our
Tlamath chief, with several Indians. He seemed to have found his con-
duct inhospitable in letting the strangers depart without a guide through the
snow, and had come, with a few others, to pilot us a day or two on the way.

# After travelling in an easterly direction through the forest for about four
hours, we reached a considerable stream, with a border of good grass.; and
here, by the advice of our guides, we encamped. It is about thirty feet
wide, and two to four feet deep; the water clear, with some current; and,
according to the information of our Indians, is the principal affluent to the
lake, and the head water of the Tlamath river.

A very clear sky enabled me to obtain here to-night good observations,
including an emersion of the first satellite of Jupiter, which give for the lon-
gitude 121° 20' 42", and for the latitude 42° 5T 26". This emersion coin-
cides remarkably well with the result obtained from an occultation at the
encampment of December 7th to 8th, 1S43 ; from which place, the line of our
survey gives an easting of thirteen miles. The day’s journey was 12 miles.

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

t

207 [ 174 ]

Columbia, and near the head of the Tlamath river, which goes to the ocean
north of 42°, and within the United States.

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

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

We were now immediately on the verge of the forest land, in which we
had been travelling so many days; and, looking forward to the east, scarce
a tree was to be seen. Viewed from our elevation, the face of the country
exhibited only rocks and grass, and presented a region in which the arte-
misia became the principal wood, furnishing to its scattered inhabitants fuel
for their fires, building material for their huts, and shelter for the small
game which ministers to their hunger and nakedness. Broadly marked by
the boundary of the mountain wall, and immediately below us, were the

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[ 174 ]

first waters of that Great Interior Basin which has the Wahsatch and Bear
river mountains for its eastern, and the Sierra Nevada for -its western rim;
and the edge of which we had entered upwards of three months before, at
the Great Salt lake.

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

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

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

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

The rapid stream of pure water, roaring along between banks overhung
with aspens and willows, was a refreshing and unexpected sight ; and we
followed down the course of the stream, which brought us soon into a
marsh, or dry lake, formed by the expanding waters of the stream. It was
covered with high reeds and rushes, and large patches of ground had been
turned up by the squaws in digging for roots, as if a farmer had been pre-
paring the land for grain. I could not succeed in finding the plant for which

209

[ 174 J

they had been digging. There were frequent trails, and fresh tracks of
Indians ; and, from the abundant signs visible, the black-tailed hare appears
to be numerous here. It was evident that, in other seasons, this place was
a sheet of water. Crossing this marsh towards the eastern hills, and pass-
ing over a bordering plain of heavy sands, covered with art$misia, we en-
camped before sundown on the creek, which here was very small, having
lost its water in the marshy grounds. We found here tolerably good grass*
The wind to-night was high, and we had no longer our huge pine fires*
but were driven to our old resource of small dried willows and artemisia.
About twelve miles ahead* the valley appears to be closed in by a high*
dark-looking ridge.

December 20 — Travelling for a few hours down the stream this morn-
ing, we turned a point of the hill on our left, and came suddenly in sight of
another and much larger lake, which, along its eastern shore, was closely
bordered by the high black ridge which walled it in by a precipitous face on
this side. Throughout this region the face of the country is characterized
by these precipices of black volcanic rock, generally enclosing the valleys of
streams, and frequently terminating the hills. Often in the course of our
journey we w ould be tempted to continue our road up the gentle ascent of a
sloping hill, which, at the summit, w7ould terminate abruptly in a black preci-
pice. Spread out over a length of 20 miles, the lake, when we first came
in view, presented a handsome sheet of water; and I gave to it the name
of Lake Abert, in honor of the chief of the corps to which I belonged. The
fresh- water stream we had followed emptied into the lake by a little fall ; and
I was doubtful for a moment whether to go on, or encamp at this place. The
miry ground in the neighborhood of the lake did not allow us to examine
the water conveniently, and, being now on the borders of a desert country,
we w7ere moving cautiously. It was, however, still early in the day, and I
continued on, trusting either that the water would be drinkable, or that we
should find some little spring from the hill side. We were following an
Indian trail which led along the steep rocky precipice ; a black ridge along
the western shore holding out no prospect whatever. The white efflores-
cences which lined the shore like a bank of snow, and the disagreeable
ordor which filled the air as soon as we came near, informed us too plainly
that the water belonged to one of those fetid salt lakes which are common
in this region. We continued until late in the evening to w ork along the
rocky shore, but, as often afterwards, the dry inhospitable rock deceived
us ; and, halting on the lake, we kindled up fires to guide those w7ho were
straggling along behind. We tried the water, but it was impossible to
drink it, and most of the people to-night lay down without eating ; but.
some of us, who had always a great reluctance to close the day without
supper, dug holes along the shore, and obtained water, w7hich, being filtered,
was sufficiently palatable to be used, but still retained much of its nauseat-
ing taste. There was very little grass for the animals, the shore being
lined with a luxuriant growth of chenopodiaceous shrubs, which burned
with a quick bright flame, and made our firewood.

The next morning we had scarcely travelled two hours along the shore
when we reached a place where the mountains made a bay, leaving at their
feet a low bottom around the lake. Here we found numerous hillocks
covered with rushes, in the midst of which were deep holes, or springs, d
pure water; and the bottom was covered with grass, which, although of a
salt and unwholesome quality, and mixed with saline efflorescences, wa

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[ 1^4 ]

still abundant, and made a good halting place to recruit our animals; and
we accordingly encamped here for the remainder of the day. I rode ahead
several miles to ascertain if there was any appearance of a watercourse en-
tering the lake; but found none, the hills preserving their dry character,
and the shore o^the lake sprinkled with the same white powdery substance,
and covered wdth the same shrubs. There were flocks of ducks on the '
lake, and frequent tracks of Indians along the shore, where the grass had
been recently burnt by their fires.

We ascended the bordering mountain, in order to obtain a more perfect
view7 of the lake in sketching its figure ; hills swreep entirely around its
basin, from which the waters have no outlet.

December 22. — To-day we left this forbidding lake. Impassable rocky
ridges barred our progress to the eastward, and I accordingly bore off* to-
wards the south, over an extensive sage plain. At a considerable distance
ahead, and a little on our left, was a range of snowy mountains, and the
country declined gradually tow ards the foot of a high and nearer ridge im-
mediately before us, which presented the feature of black precipices, now
becoming common to the country. On the summit of the ridge, snow7 was
visible ; and there being every indication of a stream at its base, we rode
on until after dark, but were unable to reach it, and halted among the sage
bushes on the open plain, without either grass or water. The twro India-
rubber bags had been filled with water in the morning, which afforded suf-
ficient for the camp ; and rain in the night formed pools, which relieved the
thrist of the animals. Where we encamped on the bleak sandy plain, the
Indians had made huts or circular enclosures, about four feet high and twelve
feet broad, of artemisia bushes. Whether these had been forts or houses,
or what they had been doing in such a desert place, we could not ascertain*

December 23. — The weather is mild ; the thermometer at daylight 38° ;
the w7ind having been from the southward for several days. The country
has a very forbidding appearance, presenting to the eye nothing but sage
and barren ridges. We rode up towards the mountain, along the foot of
which we found a lake, which we could not approach on account of the
mud ; and, passing around its southern end, ascended the slope at the foot
of the ridge, where in some hollows we had discovered bushes and small
trees — in such situations, a sure sign of water. We found here several
springs, and the hill side was well sprinkled with a species of festuca —
a better grass than we had found for many days. Our elevated position
gave us a good view over the country, but we discovered nothing very en-
couraging. Southward, about ten miles distant, was another small lake,
towards which a broad trail led along the ridge ; and this appearing to
afford the most practicable route, I determined to continue our journey in
that direction.

December 24. — We found the water of the lake tolerably pure, and en-
camped at the farther end. There were some good grass and canes along
the shore, and the vegetation at this place consisted principally of chenopo-
diaceous shrubs.

December 25. — We were roused, on Christmas morning, by a discharge
from the small arms and howitzer, with which our people saluted the day ;
and the name of which we bestowed on the lake. It was the first time, per-
haps, in this remote and desolate region, in which it had been so commem-
orated. Always, on days of religious or national commemoration, our voy-
ageurs expect some unusual allowance ; and, having nothing else, I gave

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[ 174 ]

them each a little brandy, (which was carefully guarded, as one ofthe<most
useful articles a traveller can carry,) with some coffee and sugar, which
here, where every eatable was a luxury, was sufficient to make them a feast.
The day was sunny and warm ; and, resuming our journey, we crossed
some slight dividing grounds into a similar basin, walled in on the right by
a lofty mountain ridge. The plainly beaten trail still continued, and occa-
sionally we passed camping grounds of the Indians, which indicated to me
that we were on one of the great thoroughfares of the country. In the
afternoon I attempted to travel in a more eastern direction ; but, after a few
laborious miles, was beaten back into the basin by an impassable country.
There were fr^sh Indian tracks about the valley, and last night ahorse was
stolen. We encamped on the valley bottom, where there was some cream-
like water in ponds, colored by a clay soil and frozen over. Chenopodiaceous
shrubs constituted the growth, and made again our fire wood. The animals
were driven to the hill, where there was tolerably good grass.

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

December 21. — We continued up the valley of the stream, the principal
branch of which here issues from a bed of high mountains. We turned
up a branch to the left* and fell into an Indian trail, which conducted us by
a good road over open bottoms along the creek, where the snow was five or
six inches deep. Gradually ascending, the trail led through a good broad
pass in the mountain, where we found the snow about one foot deep. There
were some remarkably large cedars in the pass, which were covered with an
unusual quantity of frost, which we supposed might possibly indicate the
neighborhood of water ; and as, in the arbitrary position of Mary’s lake,
we were already beginning to look for it, this circumstance contributed to
our hope of finding it near. Descending from the mountain, we reached
another basin, on the flat lake bed of which we found no water, and
encamped among the sage on the bordering plain, where the snow vras
still about one foot deep. Among this the grass was remarkably green, and
to-night the animals fared tolerably well.

December 28. — The snow being deep, 1 had determined, if any more
horses were stolen, to follow the tracks of the Indians into the mountains,

212

[ 174 ]

and put a temporary check to their sly operations ; but it did not occur
again.

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

The day had been pleasant, but about two o’clock it began to blow7 ; and
crossing a slight dividing ground we encamped on th£ sheltered side of a
hill, where there was good bunch grass, having made a day’s journey of 24
miles. The night closed in, threatening snow ; but the large sage bushes
made bright fires.

December 29. — The morning mild, and at 4 o’clock it commenced snow-
ing. We took our way across a plain, thickly covered with snow7, towards
a range of hills in the southeast. The sky soon became so dark with snow,
that little could be seen of the surrounding country ;tand we reached the
summit of the hills in a heavy snow storm. On the side w7e had ap-
proached, this had appeared to be only a ridge of low hills ; and we were N
surprised to find ourselves on the summit of a bed of broken mountains,
which, as far as the weather would permit us to see, declined rapidly to
some low country ahead, presenting a dreary and savage character; and
for a moment I looked around in doubt on the wTild and inhospitable pros-
pect, scarcely knowing what road to take which might conduct us to some
place of shelter for the night. .Noticing among the hills the bead of a

213

[ 174 ]

grassy hollow, I determined to follow it, in the hope that it would conduct
us to a stream. We followed a winding descent for several miles, the hol-
low gradually broadening into little meadows, and becoming the bed of a
stream as we advanced ; and towards night we were agreeably surprised
by the appearance of a willow grove, where we found a sheltered camp,
with water and excellent and abundant grass. The grass, which was cov-
ered by the snow on the bottom, was long and green, and the face of the
mountain had a more favorable character in its vegetation, being smoother,
and covered with good bunch grass. The snow was deep, and the night
very cold. A broad trail had entered the valley from the right, and a short
distance below the camp were the tracks where a considerable party of
Indians had passed on horseback, who had turned out to the left, appa-
rently with the view of crossing the mountains to the eastward.

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

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

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

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

January 2. — We were on the road early, the face of the country hidden
by falling snow. We travelled along the bed of the stream, in some places

214

[ 174 ]

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

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

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

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

January 6. — The fog continued the same, and, with Mr. Preuss and Car-
son, I ascended the mountain, to sketch the leading features of the country,
as some indication of our future route, while Mr. Fitzpatrick explored the
country below. In a very short distance we had ascended above the mist,

215

[ 174 ]

but the view obtained was not very gratifying. The fog had partially
cleared off from below when we reached the summit; and in the south-
west corner of a basin communicating with that in which we had encamp-
ed, we saw a lofty column of smoke, 1 6 milesdistant, indicating the presence
of hot springs. There, also, appeared to be the outlet of those draining
channels of the country ;and, as such places afforded always more or less
grass, I determined to steer in that direction. The ridge we had ascended
appeared to be composed of fragments of white granite. We saw here
traces of sheep and antelope.

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

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

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

I obtained this evening some astronomical observations.

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

Taking with me Godey and Carson, I made to-day a thorough explora-
tion of the neighboring valleys, and found in a ravine in the bordering
mountains a good camping place, where was water in springs, and a suffi-
cient quantity of grass for a night. Overshading the springs were some
trees of the sweet cottonwood, which, after a long interval of absence, we
saw again with pleasure, regarding them as harbingers of a better country.
To us, they were eloquent of green prairies and buffalo. We found here a
broad and plainly marked trail, on which there were tracks of horses, and
we appeared to have regained one of the thoroughfares which pass by the

216

t 174 ]

watering places of the country. On the western mountains of the valley,
with which this of the boiling spring communicates, we remarked scat-
tered cedars — probably an indication that we were on the borders of the
timbered region extending to the Pacific. We reached the camp at sunset,
after a day’s ride of about forty miles. The horses we rode were in good
order, being of some that were kept for emergencies, and rarely used.

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

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

On the 9th we crossed over to the cottonwood camp. Among the shrubs
on the hills were a few bushes of ephedra occidentalism which afterwards
occurred frequently along our road, and, as usual, the lowlands were occu-
pied with artemisia. ’While the party proceeded to this place, Carson and
myself reconnoitred the road in advance, and found another good encamp-
ment for the following day.

January 10. — We continued our reconnoisance ahead, pursuing a south
direction in the basin along the ridge ; the camp following slowly after. On
a large trail there is never any doubt of finding suitable places for encamp-
ments. We reached the end of the basin, where we found, in a hollow of
the mountain which enclosed it, an abundance of good bunch grass.
Leaving a signal for the party to encamp, wre continued our way up 'the
hollow, intending to see w*hat lay beyond the mountain. The hollow wras
several miles long, forming a good pass, the snow deepening to about a
foot as we neared the summit. Beyond, a defile between the mountains
descended rapidly about two thousand feet; and, filling up all the lower
space, wras a sheet of green w7ater, some twenty miles broad. It broke upon
our eyes like the ocean. The neighboring peaks rose high above us,
and we ascended one of them to obtain a better view. The wTaves were
curling in the breeze, and their dark-green color showred it to be a body of
deep water. For a long time we sat enjoying the view, for we had become
fatigued with mountains, and the free expanse of moving waves was very
grateful. It was set like a gem in the mountains, which, from our position,
seemed to enclose it almost entirely. At the western end it communicated
with the line of basins we had left a few days since; and on the opposite
side it swept a ridge of snowy mountains, the foot of the great Sierra. Its
position at first inclined us to believe it Mary’s lake, but the rugged moun-
tains were so entirely discordant with descriptions of its low rushy shores
and open country, that we concluded it some unknown body of water ;
wrhich it afterwards proved to be.

On our road down, the next day, we saw herds of mountain sheep, and
encamped on a little stream at the mouth of the defile, about a mile from
the margin of the water, to which w7e hurried down immediately. The
water is so slightly salt, that, at first, we thought it fresh, and would be
pleasant to drink when no other could be had. The shore was rocky — a
handsome beach, which reminded us of the sea. On some large granite
boulders that were scattered about the shore, I remarked a coating of a
calcareous substance, in some places a few inches and in others a foot in
thickness. Near our camp, the hills, which were of primitive rock, were

217

[ 174 ]

also covered with this substance, which was in too great quantity on the
mountains along the shore of the lake to have been deposited by water,
and has the appearance of having been spread over the rocks in mass.*

Where we had halted, appeared to be a favorite camping place for In-
dians.

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

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

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

The elevation of this lake above the sea is 4,890 feet, being nearly 700
feet higher than the Great Salt lake, from which it lies nearly west, and
distant about eight degrees of longitude. The position and elevation of this

* The label attached to a specimen of this rock was lost ; but I append an analysis of that which.

from memory, I judge to be the specimen.
Carbonate of lime -

77.31

Carbonate of magnesia -

-

-

.

5.25

Oxide of iron -

-

-

-

-

-

1.60

Alumina -

-

-

_

-

1.05

Silica

-

-

-

_

-

8.55

Organic matter, water, and loss

' -

-

-

-

6.24

100.00

218

[ 174 ]

lake make it an object of geographical interest. It is the nearest lake to
the western rim, as the Great Salt lake is to the eastern rim, of the Great
Basin which lies between the base of the Rocky mountains and the Sierra
Nevada ; and the extent and character of which, its whole circumference
and contents, it is so desirable to know.

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

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

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

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

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

I remarked that one of them gave a fish to the Indian we had first seen,
which he carried off to his family. To them it was probably a feast ; being
of the Digger tribe, and having no share in the fishery, living generally on

219

[ 174 ]

seeds and roots. Although this was a time of the year when the fish have
not yet become fat, they were excellent, and we could only imagine what
they are at the proper season. These Indians were very fat, and appeared
to live an easy and happy life. They crowded into the camp more than
was consistent with our safety, retaining always their arms ; and, as they
made some unsatisfactory demonstrations, they were given to understand
that they would not be permitted to come armed into the camp ; and strong
guards were kept with the horses. Strict vigilance was maintained among
the people, and one-third at a time were kept on guard during the night.
There is no reason to doubt that these dispositions, uniformly preserved,
conducted our party securely through Indians famed for treachery.

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

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

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

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

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

On the way we surprised a family of Indians in the hills; but the man
ran up the mountain with rapidity; and the woman was so terrified, and

220

[ 1'4 1

kept up such a continued screaming, that we could do nothing with her,
and were obliged to let her go.

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

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

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

Latitude, by observation, 39° 24' 16

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

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

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

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

Latitude 39° 0T 53".

January 22. — We travelled up the stream for about 14 miles to the foot
of the mountains, from which one branch issued in the southwest, the
other flowing from SSE. along their base. Leaving the camp below,

221

C 174 ]

we ascended the range through which the first stream passed, in a canon •
on the western side was a circular valley, about 15 miles long, through
which the stream wound its way, issuing from a gorge in the main moun-
tain, which rose abruptly beyond. The valley looked yellow with faded
grass ; and the trail we had followed was visible, making towards the gorge,
and this was evidently a pass ; but again, while all was bright sunshine on
the ridge and on the valley where we were, the snow' was falling heavily
in the mountains. I determined to go still to the southward, and encamp-
ed on the stream near the forks ; the animals being fatigued and the
grass tolerably good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The snow deepened gradually as wTe advanced. Our guides wore out
their moccasins; and, putting one ofthemonahorse?weenjoyed the unusual

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sight of an Indian who could not ride. He could not even guide the ani-
mal, and appeared to have no knowledge of horses. The snow was three
or four feet deep in the summit of the pass ; and from this point the guide
pointed out ouy future road, declining to go any further. Below us was a
little valley ; and beyond this, the mountains rose higher stifcl, one ridge
above another, presenting a rude and rocky outline. We descended rap-
idly to the valley ; the snow impeded us but little ; yet it was dark when
wre reached the foot of the mountain.

The day had been so warm, that our moccasins were wet with melting
snow7 ; but here, as soon as the sun begins to decline, the air gets suddenly
cold, and we had great difficulty to keep our feet from freezing — our moc->
casins being frozen perfectly stiff. After a hard day’s march of 27 miles,
we reached the river some time after dark, and found the snow about a foot
deep on the bottom — the river being entirely frozen over. We found
a comfortable camp, where there were dry willows abundant, and we soon
had blazing fires. A little brandy, which I husbanded with great care,
remained, and I do not know any medicine more salutary, or any drink
(except coffee) more agreeable, than this in a cold night after a hard day’s
march. Mr. Preuss questioned whether the famed nectar even possessed,
so exquisite a flavor. Ail felt it to be a reviving cordial.

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

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

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

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

To the left, the open valley continued in a southwesterly direction, with

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a scarcely perceptible ascent, forming a beautiful pass ; the exploration of
which we deferred until the next day, and returned to the camp.

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

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

January 27. — Leaving the camp to follow slowly, with directions to
Carson to encamp at the place agreed on, Mr. Fitzpatrick and myself con-
tinued the reconnoissance. x\rriving at the head of the stream, we began
to enter the pass — passing occasionally through open groves of large pine
trees, on the warm side of the defile, where the snow had melted away,
occasionally exposing a large Indian trail. Continuing along a narrow
meadow, we reached in a few miles the gate of the pass, where there was
a narrow strip of prairie, about fifty yards wide, between walls of granite
rock. On either side rose the mountains, forming on the left a rugged
mass, or nucleus, wholly covered with deep snow, presenting a glittering
and icy surface. At the time, we supposed this to be the point into which
they were gathered between the two great rivers, and from which the
waters flowed off to the bay. This was the icy and cold side of the pass,
and the rays of the sun hardly touched the snow. On the left, the moun-
tains rose into peaks; but they were lower ancf secondary, and the country
had a somewhat more open and lighter character. On the right were sev-
eral hot springs, w7hich appeared remarkable in such a place. In going
through, we felt impressed by the majesty of the mountain, along the huge
wall of which we were riding. Here there was no snow ; but immedi-
ately beyond was a deep bank, through w hich we dragged our horses with
considerable effort. We then immediately struck upon a stream, which
gathered itself rapidly, and descended quick; and the valley did not pre-
serve the open character of the other side, appearing below to form a
canon. We therefore climbed one of the peaks on the right, leaving our
horses below ; but w7e were so much shut up, that we did not obtain an
extensive view, and w7hat we saw7 was not very satisfactory, and awakened
considerable doubt. The valley of the stream pursued a northwesterly
direction, appearing below to turn sharply to the right, beyond which fur-
ther view was cut off. It was, nevertheless, resolved to continue our road
the next day down this valley, which we trusted still w7ould prove that of
the middle stream between the two great rivers. Towards the summit of
this peak, the fields of snow7 w7ere four or five feet deep on the northern
side; and w7e saw several large hares, w7hich had on their winter color,,
being white as the snow around them.

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

January 28. — To-day we went through the pass w ith all the camp, and,
after a hard day’s journey of twelve miles, encamped on a high point where
the snow had been blown off, and the exposed grass afforded a scanty pas-
ture for the animals. Snow7 and broken country together made our travel-

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ling difficult : we were often compelled to make large circuits, and ascend
the highest and most exposed ridges, in order to avoid snow, which in
other places was banked up to a great depth.

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

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

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

We explained to the Indians that we were endeavoring to find a passage
across the mountains into the country of the whites, whom we were going
to see j and told them that we wished them to bring us a guide, to whom we

would give presents of scarlet cloth, and other articles, which were shown
to them. They looked at the reward we offered, and conferred with each
other, but pointed to the snow on the mountain, and drew their hands
across their necks, and raised them above their heads, to show the depth ;
and signified that it was impossible for us to get through. They made
signs that we must go to the southward, over a pass through a lower range,
which they pointed out ; there, they said, at the end of one day’s travel, we
would find people who lived near a pass in the great mountain ; and to that
point they engaged to furnish us a guide. They appeared to have a con-
fused idea, from report, of whites who lived on the other side of the moun-
tain ; and once, they told us, about two years ago, a party of twelve men
like ourselves had ascended their river, and crossed to the other waters.
They pointed out to us where they had crossed ; but then, they said, it
was summer time ; but now it would be impossible. I believe that this
was a part) led by Mr. Chiles, one of the only two men 'whom 1 know to
have passed through the California mountains from the interior of the Ba-
sin— Walker being the other ; and both were engaged upwards of twenty
days, in the summer time, in getting over. Chiles’s destination was the bay
of San Francisco, to which he descended by the Stanislaus river ; and Walk-
er subsequently informed me that, like myself, descending to the southward
on a more eastern line, day after day he vras searching for the Buenaven-
tura, thinking that he had found it with every new7 stream, until, like me,
he abandoned ail idea of its existence, and, turning abruptly to the right,
crossed the great chain. These were both western men, animated with
the spirit of exploratory enterprise which characterizes that people.

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

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

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

January 30. — Our guide, who was a young man, joined us this mom-

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ing ; and, leavingour encampment late in the day, we descended the river,
which immediately opened out into a broad valley, furnishing good travel-
ling ground. In a short distance we passed the village, a collection of
straw huts; and a few miles below, the guide pointed out the place where
the whites had been encamped before they entered the mountain. With
our late start we made but ten miles, and encamped on the low river bot-
tom, where there was no snow, but a great deal of ice ; and we cut piles of
long grass to lay under our blankets, and fires were made of large dry wil-
lows, groves of which wooded the stream. The river took here a north-
easterly direction, and through a spur from the mountains on the left was
the gap where we were to pass the next day.

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

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

We gathered together a few of the most intelligent of the Indians, and
held this evening an interesting council. I explained to them my inten-

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[ 174 ]

tions. 1 told them that we had come from a very far country, having been
travelling now nearly a year, and that we were desirous simply to go across
the mountain into the country of the other whites. There were two who
appeared particularly intelligent — one, a somewhat old man. He told me
that, before the snows fell, it was six sleeps to the place where the whites
lived, but that now it was impossible to cross the mountain on account of
the deep snow ; and showing us, as the others had done, that it was over
our heads, he urged us strongly to follow the course of the river, which he
said would conduct us to a lake in which there were many large fish.
There, he said, were many people ; there was no snow on the ground ;
and we might remain there until the spring. From their descriptions, we
were enabled to judge that we had encamped on the upper water of the
Salmon Trout river. It is hardly necessary to say that our communication
was only by signs, as we understood nothing of their language ; but they
spoke, notwithstanding, rapidly and vehemently, explaining what they con-
sidered the folly of our intentions, and urging us to go down to the lake.
Tah-ve , a word signifying snow, we very soon learned to know, from its
frequent repetition. I told him that the men and the horses were strong,
and that wTe would break a road through the snow ; and spreading be-
fore him our bales of scarlet cloth, and trinkets, showed him what we
would give for a guide. It was necessary to obtain one, if possible ; for I
had determined here to attempt the passage of the mountain. Pulling a
bunch of grass from the ground, after a short discussion among themselves,
the old man made us comprehend, that if we could breakthrough the snow,
at the end of three days we would come down upon grass, which he
showed us would be about six inches high, and where the ground was en-
tirely free. So far, he said, he had been in hunting for elk ; but beyond that,
(and he closed his eyes) he had seen nothing; but there was one among
them who had been to the whites, and, going out of the lodge, he returned
with a young man of very intelligent appearance. Here, said he, is a
young man who has seen the whites with his own eyes ; and he swore,
first by the sky, and then by the ground, that what he said was true. With
a large present of goods, we prevailed upon this young man to be our
guide, and he acquired among us the name Melo — a word signifying friend,
which they used very frequently. He was thinly clad, and nearly barefoot ;
his moccasins being about worn out. We gave him skins to make a new
pair, and to enable him to perform his undertaking to us. The Indians re-
mained in the camp. during the night, and we kept the guide and two others
to sleep in the lodge with us — Carson lying across the door, and having
made them comprehend the use of our fire arms. The snow, which had
intermitted in the evening, commenced falling again in the course of the
night, and it snowed steadily all day. In the morning I acquainted the
men with my decision, and explained to them that necessity required us to
make a great effort to clear the mountains. I reminded them of the beau-
tiful valley of the Sacramento, with which they were familiar from the de-
scriptions of Carson, who had been there some fifteen years ago, and who,
in our late privations, had delighted us in speaking of its rich pastures and
abounding game, and drew a vivid contrast between its summer climate,
less than a hundred miles distant, and the falling snow around us. I in-
formed them (and long experience had given them confidence in my ob-
servations and good instruments) that almost directly west, and only about
70 miles distant, was the great farming establishment of Captain Sutter — a

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[ 174 ]

gentleman who had formerly lived in Missouri, and, emigrating to this
country, had become the possessor of a principality. I assured them that,
from the heights of the mountain before us, we should doubtless see the
valley of the Sacramento river, and with one effort place ourselves again
in the midst of plenty. The people received this decision with the cheer-
ful obedience which had always characterized them ; and the day was im-
mediately devoted to the preparations necessary to enable us to carry it into
effect. Leggings, moccasins, clothing — all were put into the best state to
resist the cold. Our guide was not neglected. Extremity of suffering
might make him desert ; we therefore did the best we could for him. Leg-
gings, moccasins, some articles of clothing, and a large green blanket, in
addition to the blue and scarlet cloth, were lavished upon him, and to his
great and evident contentment. He arrayed himself in all his colors ; and,
clad in green, blue, and scarlet, he made a gay-looking Indian ; and, with
his various presents, was probably richer and better clothed than any of
his tribe had ever been before.

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

The river was 40 to 70 feet wide, and now entirely frozen over. It was
wooded with large cottonwood, willow, and grain de boeuf. By observa-
tion, the latitude of this encampment was 38° 37' 18".

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

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

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t 174 ]

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

February 3. — Turning our faces directly towards the main chain, we as-
cended an open hollow along a small tributary to the river, which, accord-
ing to the Indians, issues from a mountain to the south. The snow was
so deep in the hollow, that we were obliged to travel along the steep hill
sides, and over spurs, where wind and sun had in places lessened the
snow, and where the grass, which appeared to be in good quality along the
sides of the mountains, was exposed. We opened our road in the same
way as yesterday, but made only seven miles; and encamped by some
springs at the foot of a high and steep hill, by which the hollow7 ascended
to another basin in the mountain. The little stream below7 was entirely
buried in snow’. The springs were shaded by the boughs of a lofty cedar,
which here made its first appearance; the usual height was 120 to 130
feet, and one that was measured near by was 6 feet in diameter.

There being no grass exposed here, the horses were sent back to that
which we had seen a fewr miles below. We occupied the remainder of the
day in beating down a road to the foot of the hill, a mile or two distant ;
the snow being beaten down when moist, in the warm part of the day, and
then hard frozen at night, made a foundation that would bear the weight
of the animals the next morning. During the day several Indians joined
us on snow shoes. These were made of a circular hoop, about a foot in
diameter, the interior space being filled w7ith an open network of bark.

February 4. — I went ahead early with two or three men, each w7ith a
led horse, to break the road. We were obliged to abandon the hollow en-
tirely, and work along the mountain side, which was very steep, and the
snow covered with an icy crust. We cut a footing as we advanced, and
trampled a road through for the animals ; but occasionally one plunged out-
side the trail, and slided along the field to the bottom, a hundred yards be-
low. Late in the day we reached another bench in the hollow, where, in
summer, the stream passed over a small precipice. Here was a short dis-
tance of dividing ground between the two ridges, and beyond an open ba-
sin, some ten miles across, whose bottom presented a field of snow. At
the further or western side rose the middle crest of the mountain, a dark-
looking ridge of volcanic rock.

The summit line presented a range of naked peaks, apparently destitute
of snow and vegetation; but below, the face of the whole country was
covered with timbeV of extraordinary size. Annexed you are presented
with a view of this ridge from a camp on the western side of the basin.

Towards a pass which the guide indicated here, we attempted in the af-
ternoon to force a road ; but after a laborious plunging through two or
three hundred yards, our best horses gave out, entirely refusing to make
any further effort ; and, for the time, we were brought to a stand. The
guide informed us that we were entering the deep snow, and here began
the difficulties of the mountain ; and to him, and almost to all, our enter-
prise seemed hopeless. I returned a short distance back, to the break in
the hollow, where 1 met Mr. Fitzpatrick.

The camp had been all the day occupied in endeavoring to ascend the
hill, but only the best horses had succeeded. The animals, generally, not

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[ 174 3

having sufficient strength to bring themselves up without the packs ; and
all the line of road between this and the springs was strewed with camp
stores and equipage, and horses floundering in snow. I therefore imme-
diately encamped on the ground with my own mess, which was in ad-
vance, and directed Mr. Fitzpatrick to encamp at the springs, and send all
the animals, in charge of Tabeau, with a strong guard, back to the place
where they had been pastured the night before. Here was a small spot
of level ground, protected on one side by the mountain, and on the other
sheltered by a little ridge of rock. ' It was an open grove of pines, which
assimilated in size to the grandeur of the mountain, being frequently six
feet in diameter.

To-night we had no shelter, but we made a large fire around the trunk
of one of the huge pines ; and covering the snow with small boughs, on
which we spread our blankets, soon made ourselves comfortable. The
night was very bright and clear, though the thermometer was only at 10°*
A strong wind, which sprang up at sundown, made it intensely cold*; and
this was one of the bitterest nights during the journey.

Two Indians joined our party here; and one of them, an old man, im-
mediately began to harangue us, saying that ourselves and animals would
perish in the snow7; and that if we would go back, he would show us an~
other and a better way across the mountain. He spoke in a very loud
voice, and there was a singular repetition of phrases and arrangement of
words, which rendered Lis speech striking, and not unmusical.

We had now begun to understand some words, and, with the aid of signs,,
easily comprehended the old man’s simple ideas. “ Rock upon rock — rock
upon rock — snow upon snow — snow upon snow,” said he ; u even if you
get over the snow, you w7ill not be able to get down from the mountains.55
He made us the sign of precipices, and showed us how the feet of the
horses would slip, and throw them off from the narrow trails which led
along their sides. Our Chinook, w7ho comprehended even more readily
than ourselves, and believed our situation hopeless, covered his head with
his blanket, and began to w7eep and lament. “ I wanted to see the whites,53
said he ; “I came away from my own people to see the whites, and I
wouldn’t care to die among them ; but here” — and he looked around into
the cold night and gloomy forest, and, drawing his blanket over his head,,
began again to lament, f

Seated around the tree, the fire illuminating the rocks and the tall bolls
of the pines round about, and the old Indian haranguing, we presented a
group of very serious faces.

February 5. — The night had been too cold to sleep, and we were up
very early. Our guide was standing by the fire with all his finery on*
and seeing him shiver in the cold, I threw on his shoulders one of my
blankets. We missed him a few minutes afterwards, and never saw him
again. He had deserted. His bad faith and treachery were in perfect
keeping with the estimate of Indian character, which a long intercourse
with this people had gradually forced upon my mind.

While a portion of the camp were occupied in bringing up the baggage
to this point, the remainder were busied in making sledges and snow shoes*

1 had determined to explore the mountain ahead, and the sledges were to-
be used in transporting the baggage.

The mountains here consisted wholly of a white micaceous granite.

232

L ]

The day was perfectly clear, and, while the sun was in the sky, warm
and pleasant.

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

February 6. — Accompanied by Mr. Fitzpatrick, I sat out to-day with a
reconnoitring party, on snowr shoes. We marched all in single file, tramp-
ling the snow as heavily as we could. Crossing the open basin, in a march
of about ten miles we reached the top of one of the peaks, to the left of
the pass indicated by our guide. Far below us, dimmed by the distance,
was a large snowless valley, bounded on the western side, at the distance
of about a hundred miles, by a low range of mountains, which Carson
recognised with delight as the mountains bordering the coast. u There,”
said he, “is the little mountain — it is 15 years ago since I saw it; but I
am just as sure as if I had seen it yesterday.” Between us, then, and this
low coast range, was the valley of the Sacramento ; and no one who had
not accompanied us through the incidents of our life for the last few months
could realize the delight with which at last we looked down upon it. At
the distance of apparently 30 miles beyond us were distinguished spots of
prairie; and a dark line, which could be ‘traced with the glass, was im-
agined to be the course of the river; but we were evidently at a great
height above the valley, and between us and the plains extended miles
of snowy fields and broken ridges of pine-covered mountains.

It was late in the day when we turned towards the camp ; and it grew
rapidly cold as it drew7 towards night. One of the men became fatigued,
and his feet began to freeze, and, building a fire in the trunk of a dry old
cedar, Mr. Fitzpatrick remained with him until his clothes could be dried,
and he was in a condition to come on. After a day’s march of 20 miles,
we straggled into camp, one after another, at night fall; the greater num-
ber excessively fatigued, only two of the party having ever travelled on
snow shoes before.

All our energies were now directed to getting our animals across the
snow ; and it was supposed that, after all the baggage had been drawn with
the sleighs over the trail we had made, it would be sufficiently hard to
bear our animals. At several places, between this point and the ridge, we
had discovered some grassy spots, where the wind and sun had dispersed
the snow from the sides of the hills, and these were to form resting places
to support the animals for a night in their passage across. On our way
across, we had set on fire several broken stumps, and dried trees, to melt
holes in the snow for the camps. Its general depth was 5 feet; but we
passed over places where it was 20 feet deep, as shown by the trees.

With one party drawing sleighs loaded with baggage, I advanced to-day
about four miles along the trail, and encamped at the first grassy spot, where
we expected to bring our horses. Mr. Fitzpatrick, with another party, re-
mained behind, to form an intermediate station between us and the animals.

February 8. — The night has been extremely cold ; but perfectly still,
and beautifully clear. Before the sun appeared this morning, the ther-
mometer was 3° below7 zero; 1° higher, when his rays struck the lofty
peaks ; and 0° when they reached our camp.

Scenery and weather, combined, must render these mountains beautiful
in summer; the purity and deep-blue color of the sky are singularly beau-
tiful ; the days are sunny and bright, and even warm in the noon hours ;
and if we could be free from the many anxieties that oppress us, even now

233

[ 174 ]

we would be delighted here ; but our provisions are gettingfearfully scant.
Sleighs arrived with baggage about 10 o’clock ; and leaving a portion of it
here, we continued on for a mile and a half, and encamped at the foot of
a long hill on this side of the open bottom.

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

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

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

February 10. — Taplin was sent back with a few men to assist Mr. Fitz-
patrick ; and continuing on with three sleighs carrying a part of the bag-
gage, we had the satisfaction to encamp within two and a half mile3 of the
head of the hollow, and at the foot of the last mountain ridge. Here two
large trees had been set on fire, and in the holes, where the snow had been
melted away, we found a comfortable camp.

The wind kept the air filled with snow during the day ; the sky was very
dark in the southwest, though elsewhere very clear. The forest here has
a noble appearance : the tall cedar is abundant ; its greatest height being
130 feet, and circumference 20, three or four feet above the ground ; and
here I see for the first time the white pine, of which there are some mag-
nificent trees. Hemlock spruce is among the timber, occasionally as large
as 8 feet in diameter four feet above the ground ; but, in ascending, it
tapers rapidly to less than one foot at the height of 80 feet. I have not
seen any higher than 130 feet, and the slight upper part is frequently
broken oft” by the wind. The white spruce is frequent ; and the red pine,
( pinus Colorado of the Mexicans,) which constitutes the beautiful forest
along the flanks of the Sierra Nevada to the northward, is here the prin-
cipal tree, not attaining a greater height than 140 feet, though with some-
times a diameter of 10. Most of these trees appeared to differ slightly
from those of the same kind on the other side of the continent.

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

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

234

[ 174 ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

J

235 [ 174 ]

I obtained to-night some observations ; and the result from these, and oth-
ers made during our stay, gives for the latitude 38° 41' 57", longitude 1£0°
25' 57", and rate of the chronometer 25". 82.

February 16. — We had succeeded in getting our animals safely to the
first grassy hill ; and this morning I started with Jacob on a reconnoitring
expedition beyond the mountain. We travelled along the crests of narrow
ridges, extending down from the mountain in the direction of the valley,
from which the snow was fast melting away. On the open spots was tol-
erably good grass ; and I judged we should succeed in getting the camp
down by way of these. Towards sundown we discovered some icy spots
in' a deep hollow ; and, descendingthe mountain, we encamped on the head
water of a little creek, where at last the water found its way to the Pacific»

The night was clear and very long. We heard the cries of some wild
| animals, which had been attracted by our fire, and a flock of geese passed
I over during the night. Even these strange spunds had something pleasant
to our senses in this region of silence and desolation.

| We started again early in the morning. The creek acquired a regular
breadth of about 20 feet, and we soon began to hear the rushing of the water
below the ice surface, over which we travelled to avoid the snow ; a few
miles below we broke through, where the water was several f^t deep, and
| halted to make a fire and dry our clothes. We continued a few miles
| farther, walking being very laborious without snow shoes.

I was now perfectly satisfied that we had struck the stream on which
| Mr. Sutter lived ; and, turning about, made a hard push, and reached the
i camp at dark. Here we had the pleasure to find all the remaining animals,
57 in number, safely arrived at the grassy hill near the camp ; and here,
also, we were agreeably surprised with the sight of an abundance of salt.
Some of the horse guard had gone to a neighboring hut for pine nuts, and
discovered unexpectedly a large cake of very white fine-grained salt, which
| the Indians told them they had brought from the other side of the moun-
tain ; they used it to eat with their pine nuts, and readily sold it for goods.

On the 19th, the people were occupied in making a road and bringing up
the baggage ; and, on the afternoon of the next day, February 20, 1844, we
encamped with the animals and all the materiel of the camp, on the summit
of the Pass in the dividing ridge, 1,000 miles by our travelled road from
the Dalles of the Columbia.

The people, who had not yet been to this point, climbed the neighboring
peak to enjoy a look at the valley.

The temperature of boiling water gave for the elevation of the encamp-
ment 9,338 feet above the sea.

This was 2,000 feet higher than the South Pass in the Rocky mountains,
and several peaks in view rose several thousand feet still higher. Thus, at
the extremity of the continent, and near the coast, the phenomenon was
seen of a range of mountains still higher than the great Rocky mountains
themselves. This extraordinary fact accounts for the Great Basin, and
shows that there must be a system of small lakes and rivers here scattered
over a flat country, and which the extended and lofty range of the Sierra
Nevada prevents from escaping to the Pacific ocean. Latitude 38° 44' ;
longitude 120° 28'.

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

of flap Smith Pakq.

February 21. — We now considered ourselves victorious over the moun-
tain ; having only the descent before us, and the valley under our eyes, we
felt strong hope that we should force our way dow7n. But this was a case
in which the descent was not facile. Still deep fields of snow lay between,
and there was a large intervening space of rough-looking mountains, through
which we had yet to wind our way. Carson roused me this morning with
an early fire, and we were all up long before day, in order to pass the snow
fields before the sun should render the crust soft. We enjoyed this morn-
ing a scene, at sunrise, which even here was unusually glorious and beauti-
ful. Immediately above the eastern mountains was repeated a cloud-lormed
mass of purple ranges, bordered with bright yellow gold ; the peaks shot
up into a narrow line of crimson cloud, above which the air was filled with
a greenish orange ; and over all was the singular beauty of the blue sky.
Passing along a ridge which commanded the lake on our right, of which
we began to discover an outlet through a chasm on the west, we passed
over alternating open ground and hard-crusted snow fields which support-
ed the animals, and encamped on the ridge after a journey of 6 miles. The
grass was better than we had yet seen, and we were encamped in a clump
of trees twenty or thirty feet high, resembling white pine. With the excep-
tion of these %mall clumps, the ridges were bare ; and, where the snow7 found
the support ofithe trees, the wind had blown it up into banks ten or fifteen
feet high. It required much care to hunt out a practicable way, as the
most open places frequently led to impassable banks.

We had hard and doubtful labor yet before us, as the snow appeared to
be heavier where the timber began further down, with few open spots.
Ascending a height, we traced out the best line we could discover for the
next day’s march, and had at least the consolation to see that the mountain
descended rapidly. The day had been one of April ; gusty, with a few oc-
casional flakes of snow ; which, in the afternoon, enveloped the upper
mountain in clouds. We watched them anxiously, as now we dreaded a
snow storm. Shortly afterwards we heard the roll of thunder, and, looking
towards the valley, found it all enveloped in a thunder storm. For us, as
connected with the idea of summer, it had a singular charm; and wre watch-
ed its progress w ith excited feelings until nearly sunset, when the sky clear-
ed off brightly, and we saw a shining line of water directing its course to-
wards another, a broader and larger sheet. We knew7 that these could be
no other than the Sacramento and the bay of San Francisco ; but, after our
long wandering in rugged mountains, wThere so frequently w7e had met with
disappointments, and where the crossing of every ridge displayed some un-
known lake or river, we were yet almost afraid to believe that w7e were at
last to escape into the genial country of which we had heard so many
glowdng descriptions, and dreaded again to find some vast interior lake,
whose bitter waters would bring us disappointment. On the southern shore
of what appeared to be the bay could be traced the gleaming line where
entered another large stream ; and again the Buenaventura rose up in our
minds.

Carson had entered the valley along the southern side of the bay, and re-
membered perfectly to have crossed the mouth of a very large stream,
which they had been obliged to raft ; but the country then was so entirely
covered with water from snow and rain, that he had been able to form no
correct impression of watercourses.

We had the satisfaction to know that at least there were people below.

237

[ 174 ]

Fires were lit up in the valley just at night, appearing to be in answer to
ours ; and these signs of life renewed , in some measure, the gayety of jhe
camp. They appeared so near, that we judged them to be among the tim-
ber of some of the neighboring ridges ; but, having them constantly in view
day after day, and night after night, we afterwards found them to be fires
that had been kindled by the Indians among the tulares , on the shore of
the bay, 80 miles distant.

x\mong the very few plants that appeared here, was the common blue
flax. To-night, a mule was killed for food.

February 22. — Our breakfast was over long before day. We took ad-
vantage of the coolness of the early morning to get over the snow, which
to-day occurred in very deep banks among the timber ; but we searched
out the coldest places, and the animals passed successfully with their loads
the hard crust. Now and then, the delay of making a road occasioned
much labor and loss of time. In the aftej part of the day, we saw before
us a handsome grassy ridge point; and, making a desperate push over a
snow field 10 to 15 feet deep, we happily succeeded in getting the camp
across ; and encamped on the ridge, after a march of three miles. We had
again the prospect of a thunder storm below ; and to-night we killed another
mule — now our only resource from starvation. «

We satisfied ourselves during the day that the lake had an outlet be-
tween two ranges on the right ; and with this, the creek on which I had
encamped probably effected a junction below. Between these, we were
descending.

We continued to enjoy the same delightful weather ; the sky of the same
beautiful blue, and such a sunset and sunrise as on our Atlantic coast we
could scarcely imagine. And here among the mountains, 9,000 feet above
the sea, we have the deep-blue sky and sunny climate of Smyrna and
Palermo, which a little map before me shows are in the same latitude.

The elevation above the sea, by the boiling point, is 8,565 feet.

February 23. — This was our most difficult day : we were forced off the
ridges by the quantity of snow among the timber, and obliged to take to
the mountain sides, where, occasionally, rocks and a southern exposure af-
forded us a chance to scramble along. But these were steep, and slippery
with snow and ice ; and the tough evergreens of the mountain impeded
our way, tore our skins, and exhausted our patience. Some of us had the
misfortune to wear moccasins with parfleche soles, so slippery that we could
not keep our feet, and generally crawled across the snow beds. Axes and
mauls were necessary to-day, to make a road through the snow. Going
ahead with Carson to reconnoitre the road, we reached in the afternoon the
river which made the outlet of the lake. Carson sprang over, clear across
a place where the stream was compressed among rocks, but the parfleche
sole of my moccasin glanced from the icy rock, and precipitated me into the
river. It was some few seconds before I could recover myself in the cur-
rent, and Carson, thinking me hurt, jumped in after me, and we both had
an icy bath. We tried to search a while for my gun, which had been lost
in the fall, but the cold drove us out ; and making a large fire on the bank,
after we had partially dried ourselves we went back to meet the camp.
We afterwards found that the gun had been slung under the ice which
lined the banks of the creek.

Using our old plan of breaking the road with alternate horses, we reached
the creek in the evening, and encamped on a dry open place in the ravine*

238

C 174 ]

Another branch, which we had followed, here comes in on the left ; and
from this point the mountain wall, on which we had travelled to-day, faces
to the south along the light bank of the river, where the sun appears to
have melted the snow; but the opposite ridge is entirely covered. Here,
among the pines, (She hill side produces but little grass — barely sufficient
to keep life in the animals. We had the pleasure to be rained upon this
afternoon ; and grass was now our greatest solicitude. Many of the men
looked badly ; and some this evening were giving out.

February 24. — We rose at three in the morning, for an astronomical ob-
servation, and obtained for the place a latitude of 38° 46' 58" ; longitude
120° 34' 20". The sky was clear and pure, with a sharp wind from the
northeast, and the thermometer 2° below the freezing point.

We continued down the south face of the mountain ; our road leading
over dry ground, we were able to avoid the snow almost entirely. In the
course of the morning, we strucka footpath, which we were generally able
to keep ; and the ground was soft to our animals’ feet, being sandy or cover-
ed with mould. Green grass began to make its appearance, and occasion-
ally we passed a hill scatteringly covered with it. The character of the
forest continued the same; and, among the trees, the pine with sharp
leaves and *rery large cones was abundant, some of them being noble trees.
We measured one that had 10 feet diameter, though the height was not
more than 130 feet. All along, the river was a roaring torrent, its fall
very great; and, descending with a rapidity to which we had long been
strangers, to our great pleasure oak trees appeared on the ridge, and soon
, became very frequent ; on these I remarked unusually great quantities of
mistletoe. Rushes began to make their appearance ; and at a small creek
where they were abundant, one of the messes was left with the weakest
horses, while we continued on.

The opposite mountain side was very steep and continuous — unbroken
by ravines, and covered writh pines and snow ; while on the side we wTere
travelling, innumerable rivulets poured down from the ridge. Continuing
on, we halted a moment at one of these rivulets, to admire some beautiful
evergreen tiees, resembling live oak, which shaded the little stream. They
were forty to fifty feet high, and two in diameter, with a uniform tufted top ;
and the summer green of their beautiful foliage, with the singing birds, and
the sweet summer wind which was whirling about the dry oak leaves,
nearly intoxicated us with delight ; and we hurried on, filled with excite-
ment, to escape entirely from the horrid region of inhospitable snow, to the
perpetual spring of the Sacramento.

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

Along our road to-day the rock was a white granite, wffiich appears to
constitute the upper part of the mountains on both the eastern and western
slopes ; while between, the central is a volcanic rock.

Another horse was killed to-night, for food.

February 2 o. — Believing that the difficulties of the road w7ere passed,
and leaving Mr. Fitzpatrick to follow slowly, as the condition of the ani-
mals required, I started ahead this morning writh a party of eight, consist-
ing (with myself) of Mr. Pre uss and Mr. Talbot, Carson, Derosier, Towns,

239

[ 1?4 ]

Froue, and Jacob. We took with us some of the best animals, and my in-
tention was to proceed as rapidly as possible to the house of Mr. Sutter,
and return to meet the party with a supply of provisions and fresh animals.

Continuing down the river, which pursued a very direct westerly course
through a narrow valley, with only a very slight and narrow bottom land,
we made tw elve miles, and encamped at some old Indian huts, apparently
a fishing place on the river. The bottom was covered with trees of de-
ciduous foliaga, and overgrown with vines and rushes. On a bench of the
hill near by, w7as a field of fresh green grass, six inches long in some of the
tufts which I had the curiosity to measure. The animals were driven
here ; and I spent part of the afternoon sitting on a large rock among
them, enjoying the pauseless rapidity with which they luxuriated in the
unaccustomed food.

The forest was imposing to-day in the magnificence of the trees : some
of the pines, bearing large cones, wer# 10 feet in diameter ; cedars also
abounded, and we measured one 2S§ feet in circumference four feet from
the ground. This noble tree seemed here to be in its proper soil and cli-
mate. We found it on both sides of the Sierra, but most abundant on the
west.

February 26. — We continued to follow the stream, the mountains on
either hand increasing in height as we descended, and shutting up the
river narrowly in precipices, along which we had great difficulty to get
our horses.

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

The current in both streams (rather torrents than rivers) was broken by
large boulders. It was late, and the animals fatigued ; and not succeeding
to find a ford immediately, we encamped, although the hill side afforded
but a few stray bunches of grass, and the horses, standing about in the
rain, looked very miserable.

February 27. — We succeeded in fording the stream, and made a trail by
which we crossed the point of the opposite hill, which, on the southern
exposure, was prettily covered with green grass, and we halted a mile from
our last encampment. The river was only about sixty feet wfide, but rapid,
and occasionally deep, foaming among boulders, and the water beautifully
clear. We encamped on the hill slope, as there was no bottom level, and
the opposite ridge is continuous, affording no streams.

We had with us a large kettle ; and a mule being killed here, his head
%vas boiled in it for several hours, and made a passable soup for famished
people.

Below, precipices on the river forced us to the heights, which we as-
cended by a steep spur 2,000 feet high. My favorite horse, Proveau, had
become very weak, and wasscarcely able to bring himself to the top. Trav-
elling here was good, except in crossing the ravines, which were narrow,
steep, and frequent. We caught a glimpse of a deer, the first animal we
had seen ; but did not succeed in approaching him. Proveau could not
keep up, and I left Jacob to bring him on, being obliged to press forward
w ith the party, as there was no grass in the forest. We grew very anxious
as the day advanced and no grass appeared, for the lives of our animals

240

[ 174 ]

depended on finding it to-night. They were in just such a condition that
grass and repose for the night enabled them to get on the next day. Every
hour we had been expecting to see open out before us the valley, which, from
the mountain above, seemed almost at our feet. A new and singular shrub,
which had made its appearance since crossing the mountain, was very fre-
quent to-day. It branched out near the ground, forming a clump eight to
ten feet high, with pale-green leaves of an oval form , and the body and
branches had a naked appearance, as if stripped of the bark, ‘which is very
smooth and thin, of a chocolate color, contrasting well with the pale green
of the leaves. The day was nearly gone ; we had made a hard day’s march,
and found no grass. Towns became light-headed, wandering off into the
woods without knowing where he was going, and Jacob brought him back.

Near night-fall we descended into the steep ravine of a handsome creek
thirty feet wide, and I was engaged in getting the horses up the opposite
hill, when I heard a shout from Ctrson, who had gone ahead a few hun-
dred yards — “Life yet,” said he, as he came up, u life yet ; I have found a
hill side sprinkled with grass enough fcfr the night.” We drove along our
horses, and encamped at the place about dark, and there was just room
enough to make a place for shelter on the edge of the stream. Three
horses were lost to-day — Proveau ; a fine young horse from the Columbia,
belonging to Charles Towns; and another Indian horse which carried our
cooking utensils ; the two former gave out, and the latter strayed off into
the woods as we reached the camp.

February 29. — We lay shut up in the narrow ravine, and gave the ani-
mals a necessary day ; and men were sent back after the others. Derosier
volunteered to bring up Proveau, to whom he knew I was greatly attach-
ed, as he had been my favorite horse on both expeditions. Carson and I
climbed one of the nearest mountains ; the forest land still extended ahead,
and the valley appeared as far as ever. The pack horse was found near
the camp, but Derosier did not get in.

March 1. — Derosier did not get in during the night, and leaving him to
follow, as no grass remained here, we continued on over the uplands, cross-
ing many small streams, and camped again on the river, having made 6
miles. Here we found the hill side covered (although lightly) with fresh
green grass ; and from this time forward we found it always improving
and abundant.

We made a pleasant camp on the river hill, where were some beautiful
specimens of the chocolate-colored shrub, which were a foot in diameter
near the ground, and fifteen to twenty feet high. The opposite ridge runs
continuously along, unbroken by streams. We are rapidly descending into
the spring, and we are leaving our^ snowy region far behind ; every thing is
getting green ; butterflies are swarming ; numerous bugs are creeping out,
wakened from their winter’s sleep ; and the forest flowers. are coming into
bloom. Among those which appeared most numerously to-day was dode -
catheon dentatum.

We began to be uneasy at Derosier’s absence, fearing he might have
been bewildered in the woods. Charles Towns, who had not yet recovered
his mind, wjent to swim in the river, as if it were summer, and the stream
placid, when it was a cold mountain torrent foaming among rocks. We
were happy to see Derosier appear in the evening. He came in, and, sitting
down by the fire, began to tell us where he had been. He imagined he
had been gone several days, and thought we were still at the camp where

241

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he had left us ; and we were pained to see that his mind was deranged. It
appeared that he had been lost in the mountain, and hunger and fatigue,
joined to weakness of body, and fear of perishing in the mountains, had
crazed him. The times were severe when stout men lost their minds from
extremity of suffering — when horses died — and when mules and horses,
ready to die of starvation, were killed for food. Yet there wars no mur-
muring or hesitation.

A short distance below our encampment, the river mountains terminated
in precipices, and, after a fatiguing march of only a few miles, we encamped
on a bench where there were springs and an abundance of the freshest
grass. In the mean time, Mr. Preuss continued on down the river, and,
unaware that we had encamped so early in the day, was lost. When night
arrived, and he did not come in, we began to understand what had hap-
pened to him ; but it was too late to make any search.

March 3. — We followed Mr. Preuss’s trail for a considerable distance
along the river, until we reached a place where he had descended to the
stream below and encamped. Here we shouted and fired guns, but received
no answer ; and we concluded that he had pushed on down the stream. I
determined to keep out from the river, along which it was nearly impracti-
cable to travel with animals, until it should form a valley. At every step
the country improved in beauty ; the pines were rapidly disappearing, and
oaks became the principal trees of the forest. Among these, the prevailing
tree was the evergreen oak, (which, by way of distinction, we shall call the
live oak ;) and with these, occurred frequently anew species of oak bearing
a long slender acorn, from an inch to an inch and a half in length, which
we now began to see formed the principal vegetable food of the inhabitants
of this region. In a short distance we crossed a little rivulet, where were
two old huts, and near by were heaps of acorn hulls. The ground round
about was very rich, covered with an exuberant sward of grass ; and we
sat down for a while in the shade of the oaks, to let the animals feed. We
repeated our shouts for Mr. Preuss ; and this time we were gratified with
an answer. The voice grew rapidly nearer, ascending from the river ; but
when we expected to see him emerge, it ceased entirety . W e had called up
some straggling Indian — the first we had met, although for two days back
V ^e ijad seen tracks — who, mistaking us for his fellows, had been only un-

\ deceived on getting close up. It would have been pleasant to witness his

astonishment ; he would not have been more frightened had some of the
mountain spirits they are so much afraid of suddenly appeared in his
path. Ignorant of the character of these people, we had now an additional
cause of uneasiness in regard to Mr. Preuss ; he had no arms with him, and
we began to think his chance doubtful. We followed on a trail, still keep-
ing out from the river, and descended to a very large creek, dashing with

great velocity over a pre-eminently rocky bed and among large boulders.
The bed had sudden breaks, formed by deep holes and ledges of rock run-
ning across. Even here, it deserves the name of Rock creek, which we gave
to it. We succeeded in fording it, and toiled about three thousand feet up
the opposite hill. The mountains now were getting sensibly lower; but
still there is no valley on the river, which presents steep and rocky banks ;
but here, several miles from the river, the country is smooth and grassy;
the forest has no undergrowth ; and in the open valleys of rivulets, or around
spring heads, the low groves of live oak give the appearance of orchards
in an old cultivated country. Occasionally we met deer, but had not the
16

242

[ 1^4 ]

necessary time for hunting. At one of these orchard grounds, we encamped
about noon to make an effort for Mr. Preuss. One man took his way along
a spur leading into the river, in hope to cross his trail ; and another took
our own back. Both were volunteers ; and to the successful man was prom-
ised a pair of pistols — not as a reward, but as a token of gratitude for a
service which would free us all from much anxiety.

We had among our few animals a horse which was so much reduced,
that, with travelling, even the good grass could not save him; and, having
nothing to eat, he was killed (his afternoon. He was a good animal, and
had made the journey round from Fort Hall.

Dodecatheon dentatum continued the characteristic plant in flower; and
the naked-looking shrub already mentioned continued characteristic, begin-
ning to put forth a small white blossom. At evening the men returned, hav-
ing seen or heard nothing of Mr. Preuss; and I determined to make a
hard push down the river the next morning, and get ahead of him.

March 4. — We continued rapidly along on a broad plainly-beaten trail,
the mere travelling and breathing the delightful air being a positive enjoy-
ment. Our road led along a ridge inclining to the river, and the air and
the open grounds were fragrant w ith flowrering shrubs ; and in the course
of the morning w7e issued on an open spur, by which we descended directly
to the stream. Here the river issues suddenly from the mountains, which
hitherto had hemmed it closely in ; these now become softer, and change
sensibly their character; and at this point commences the most beautiful
valley in which w7e had ever travelled. We hurried to the river, on which
we noticed a small sand beach, to which Mr. Preuss would naturally have
gone. We found no trace of him, but, instead, were recent tracks of bare-
footed Indians, and little piles of muscle shells, and old fires where they
had roasted the fish. We travelled on over the river grounds, which were
undulating, and covered with grass to the river brink. We halted to noon
a few7 miles beyond, always under the shade of the evergreen oaks, which
formed open groves on the bottoms.

Continuing our road in the afternoon, we ascended to the uplands, where
the river passes round a point of great beauty, and goes through very re-
markable dalles, in character resembling those of the Columbia river, and
which you will find mentioned on the map annexed. Beyond, we ^gar*
descended to the bottoms, where we found an Indian village, consisting 0(
two or three huts; we had come upon them suddenly, and the peopU |3a(j
evidently just run off. The huts were low and slight, made like beehiv^,
in a picture, five or six feet high, and near each was a crate, formed of in-
terlaced branches and grass, in size and shape like a very large hogshead.
Each of these contained from six to nine bushels. These were filled with
the long acorns already mentioned, and in the huts were several neatly
made baskets, containing quantities of the acorns roasted. They were sw eet
and agreeably flavored, and w e supplied ourselves with about half a bushel,
leaving one of our shirts, a handkerchief, and some smaller articles, in ex-
change. The river again entered for a space among hills, and we followed
a trail-leading across a bend through a handsome hollow behind. Here,
while engaged in trying to circumvent a deer, we discovered some Indians
on a hill several hundred yards ahead, and gave them a shout, to which
they responded by loud and rapid talking and vehement gesticulation, but
made no slop, hurrying up the mountain as fast as their legs could carry
them. We passed on, and again encamped in a grassy grove.

243

[ 174 ]

The absence of Mr. Preuss gave me great concern ; and, for a large re-
ward, Derosier volunteered to go back on the trail. 1 directed him to
search along the river, travelling upward for the space of a day and a half,
at which time 1 expected he would meet Mr. Fitzpatrick, whom I requested
to aid in the search ; at all events, he was to go no farther, but return to
this camp, where a cache of provisions was made for him.

Continuing the next day down the river, we discovered three squaws in
a little bottom, and surrounded them before they could make their escape.
They had large conical baskets, which they were engaged in filling with a
small leafy plant (erodium cicularium) just now beginning to bloom, and
covering the ground like a swerrd of grass. These did not make any
lamentations, but appeared very much impressed with our appearance,
Bpeaking to us only in a whisper, and offering us smaller baskets of the
plant, which they signified to us was good to eat, making signs also that it
was to be cooked by the fire. We drew out a little cold horse meat, and
the squaws made signs to us that the men had gone out after deer, and that
we could have some by waiting till they came in. We observed that the
horses ate with great avidity the herb which ihey had been gathering; and
here also, for the first time, we saw Indians eat the common grass — one of
the squaws pulling several tufts, and eating it with apparent relish. See-
ing our surpr ise, she pointed to the horse3 ; but we could not well under-
stand what she meant, except, perhaps, that what was good for the one was
good for the other.

We encamped in the evening on the shore of the river, at a place where
the associated beauties of scenery nude so strong an impression on us that
we have given it the name of the Beautiful Camp. The undulating river
shore was shaded with the live oaks, which formed a continuous grove
over the country, and the same grassy swrard extended to the edge of the
water; and we made our fires near some large granite masses which were
lying among the trees. We had seen several of the acorn caches during the
day ; and here there were two which were very large, containing each,
probably, ten bushels. Towards evening we heard a weak shout among
the hills behind, and had the pleasure to see Mr. Preuss descending towards
the camp. Like ourselves, he had travelled to-day 25 miles, but had seen
nothing of Derosier. Knowing, on the day he was lost, that f was deter-
mined to keep the river as much as possible, he had not thought it neces-
sary to follow the trail very closely, but walked on, right and left, cer-
tain to find it somewhere along the river, searching places to obtain good
views of the country. Towards sunset he climbed down towards the river
to look for the camp; but, finding no trail, concluded that we were behind,
and walked back until night came on, when, being very much fatigued,he
collected cjrifi wood and made a large fire among the rocks. The next day
it became more serious, and he encamped again alone, thinking that we
must have taken some other course. To go back would have been mad-
ness in his weak and starved condition, and onward towards the valley
Was his only hope, always in expectation of reaching it soon His prin-
cipal means of subsistence were a few routs, which the hunt *rs call sweet
onions, having very little taste, hut a good deal of nutriment, growing gen-
erally in r ocky ground, and requit ing a good deal of labor to g t as he had
only a pocket knife. Searching for these, he found a nes* I big ants,
which he let run on his hand, ami stripped them off in his in< uth ; these
had an agreeable acid taste. One oi his greatest privations was the want

244

[ 174 ]

of tobacco ; and a pleasant smoke at evening would have been a relief
which only a voyageur could appreciate. He tried the dried leaves of the
live oak, knowing that those of other oaks were sometimes used as a sub-
stitute ; but these were too thick, and would not do. On the 4th he made
seven or eight miles, walking slowly along the river, avoiding as much as
possible to climb the hills. In little pools he caught some of the smallest
kind of frogs, which he swallowed, not so much in the gratification of hun-
ger, as in the hope of obtaining some strength. Scattered along the river
were old fire-places, where the Indians had roasted muscles and acorns;
but though he searched diligently, he did not there succeed in finding
either. He had collected fire wood for the night, when he heard at some
distance from the river the barking of what he thought were two dogs, and
walked in that direction as quickly as he was able, hoping to find there
some Indian hut, but met only two waives ; and, in his disappointment, the
gloom of the forest was doubled.

Travelling the next day feebly dowrn the river, he found five or six In-
dians at the huts of which we have spoken; some were painting them-
selves black, and others roasting acorns. Being only one man, they did
not run off, but received him kindly, and gave him a welcome supply of
roasted acorns. He gave them his pocket knife in return, and stretched
out his hand to one of the Indians, who did not appear to comprehend the
motion, but jumped back, as if he thought he was about to lay hold of him*
They seemed afraid of him, not certain as to what he wras.

Travelling on, he came to the place where we had found the squaws*
Here he found our fire still burning, and the tracks of the horses. The
sight gave him sudden hope and courage ; and, following as fast as he
could, joined us at evening.

March 6. — We continued on our road, through the same surpassingly
beautiful country, entirely unequalled for the pasturage of stock by any
thing we had ever seen. Our horses had now become so strong that they
were able to carry us, and we travelled rapidly — over four miles an hour;
four of us riding every alternate hour. Every few' hundred yards we came
upon a little band of deer ; but we were too eager to reach the settlement,
which we momentarily expected to discover, to halt for any other than a pass-
ing shot. In a few hours we reached a large fork, the northern branch of
the river, and equal in size to that which we had descended. Together
they formed a beautiful stream, 60 to 100 yards wide ; which at first, igno-
rant of the nature of the country through which that river ran, we took
to be the Sacramento.

We continued down the right bank of the river, travelling for a while over
a wooded upland, where we had the delight to discover tracks of cattle. To
the southwest was visible a black column of smoke, which we had fre-
quently noticed in descending, arising from the fires we had seen from the
top of the Sierra. From the upland we descended into broad groves on
the river, consisting of the evergreen, and a new7 species of white oak with
a large tufted top, and three to six feet in diameter. Among these wTas no
brushwood ; and the grassy surface gave to it the appearance of parks in
an old settled country. Following the tracks of the horses and cattle in
search of people, we discovered a small village of Indians. Some of these
had on shirts of civilized manufacture, but were otherwise naked, and we
could understand nothing from them ; they appeared entirely astonished at
seeing us.

245

*

[ 174 j

We made an acorn meal at noon, and harried on; the valley being gay
with flowers, and some of the banks being absolutely golden with the Cali-
fornian poppy, ( eschscholtzia crocea.) Here the grass was smooth and
green, and the groves very open ; the large oaks throwing a broad shade
among sunny spots. Shortly afterwards we gave a shout at the appearance
on a little bluff of a neatly built adobe house with glass windows. We
rode up, but, to our disappointment, found only Indians. There was no ap-
pearance of cultivation, and we could see no cattle, and we supposed the
place had been abandoned. We now pressed on more eagerly than ever;
the river swept round in a large bend to the right; the hills lowered down
entirely; and, gradually entering a broad valley, we came unexpectedly
into a large Indian village, where the people looked clean, and wore cotton
shirts and various other articles of dress. They immediately crowded
around us, and we had the inexpressible delight to find one who spoke a
little indifferent Spanish, but who at first confounded us by saying there were
no whites in the country ; but just then a well-dressed Indian came up, and
made his salutations in very well spoken Spanish. In answer to our in-
quiries, he informed us that we were upon the Rio de los Americanos , (the
river of the Americans,) and that it joined the Sacramento river about 10
miles below. Never did a name sound more sweetly ! We felt ourselves
among our countrymen ; for the name of American , in these distant parts,
is applied to the citizens of the United States. To our eager inquiries he
answered, “ I am a vaquero (cow herd) in the service of Capt. Sutter, and
the people of this rancheria work for him.” Our evident satisfaction made
him communicative ; and he went on to say that Capt. Sutter was a very
rich man, and always glad to see his country people. We asked for his
house. He answered, that it was just over the hill before us ; and offered,
if we would wait a moment, to take his horse and conduct us to it. We
readily accepted his civil offer. In a short distance we came in sight of the
fort; and, passing on the way the house of a settler on the opposite side,
(a Mr. Sinclair,) we forded the river; and in a few miles were met a short
distance from the fort by Capt. Sutter himself. He gave us a most frank
and cordial reception — conducted us immediately to his residence — and
Under his hospitable roof we had a night of rest, enjoyment, and refresh-
ment, which none but ourselves could appreciate. But the party left in
the mountains with Mr. Fitzpatrick were to be attended to ; and the next
morning, supplied with fresh horses and provisions, I hurried off to meet
them. On the second day we met, a few miles below the forks of the Rio
de los Americanos; and a more forlorn and pitiable sight than they present-
ed cannot well be imagined. They were all on foot — each man, weak and
emaciated, leading a horse or mule as weak and emaciated as themselves.
They had experienced great difficulty in descending the mountains, made
slippery by rains and melting snows, and many horses fell over precipices,
and were killed ; and with some were lost the packs they carried. Among
these, was a mule with the plants which we had collected since leaving
Fort Hall, along a line of 2,000 miles travel. Out of 67 horses and mules
with which we commenced crossing the Sierra, only 33 reached the valley
of the Sacramento, and they only in a condition to be led along. Mr. Fitz-
patrick and his party, travelling more slowly, had been able to make some
little exertion at hunting, and had killed a few deer. The scanty supply
was a great relief to them ; for several had been made sick by the strange
and unwholesome food which the preservation of life compelled them to

246

[ 174 ]

use. We stopped and encamped as soon as we met; and a repast of good
beef, excellent bread, and delicious salmon, which I had brought along,
were their first relief from the sufferings of the Sierra, and their first intro-
duction to the luxuries of the Sacramento. It required all our philosophy
and forbearance to prevent plenty from becoming as hurtful to us now, as
scarcity had been before.

The next day, March Sth, we encamped at the junction of the two riv-
ers, the Sacramento and Americanos; and thus found the whole party in
the beautiful valley of the Sacramento. It was a convenient place for the
camp; and, among other things, was within reach of the wood necessary
to make the pack saddles, which we should need on our long journey
home, from which we were farther distant now than we were four months
before, when from the Dalles of the Columbia we so cheerfully took up
the homeward line of march.

Captain Sutter emigrated to this country from the western part of Mis-
souri in 1838-’39, and formed the first settlement in the valley, on a large
grant of land which he obtained from the Mexican Government. He had,
at first, some trouble with the Indians ; but, by the occasional exercise of
well-timed authority, he has succeeded in converting them into a peaceable
and industrious people. The ditches around his extensive wheat fields ;
the making of the sun-dried bricks, of which his fort is constructed ; the
ploughing, harrowing, and other agricultural operations, are entirely the
work of these Indians, for which they receive a very moderate compensa-
tion— principally in shirts, blankets, and other articles of clothing. In the
same manner, on application to the chief of a village, he readily obtains as
many boys and girls as he has any use for. There were at this time a
number of girls at the fort, in training for a future woollen factory ; but
they were now all busily engaged in constantly watering the gardens,
which the unfavorable dryness of the season rendered necessary. The oc-
casional dryness of some seasons, I understood to be the only complaint of
the settlers in this fertile valley, as it sometimes renders the crops uncer-
tain. Mr. Sutter was about making arrangements to irrigate his lands by
means of the Rio de los Americanos. He had this year sown, and alto-
gether by Indian labor, three hundred fanegas of wheat.

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

The fort is a quadrangular adobe structure, mounting 12 pieces of artil-
lery, (two of them brass,) and capable of admitting a garrison of a thou-
sand men ; this, at present, consists of 40 Indians, in uniform — one of
whom was always found on duty at the gate. As might naturally be ex-
pected, the pieces are not in very good order. The whites in the em-
ployment of Capt. Sutter, American, French and German, amount, per-
haps, to 30 men. The inner wall is formed into buildings comprising the
common quarters, with blacksmith and other workshops; the dwelling
house, with a large distillery house, and other buildings, occupying more
the centre of the area.

It is built upon a pond-like stream, at times a running creek communicat-
ing with the Rio de los Americanos, which enters the Sacramento about two
miles below. The latter is here a noble river, about three hundred yards
broad, deep and tranquil, with several fathoms of water in the channel, and

*

247

[ »74 ]

its banks continuously timbered. There were two vessels belonging to
Capt. Sutter at anchor near the landing — one a large two-masted lighter,
and the other a schooner, which was shortly to proceed on a voyage to
Fort Vancouver for a cargo of goods.

Since his arrival, several other persons, principally Americans, have es-
tablished themselves in the valley. Mr. Sinclair, from whom I experienced
much kindness during my stay, is settled a few miles distant, on the Rio
de los Americanos. Mr. Coudrois, a gentleman from Germany, has estab-
lished himself on Feather river, and is associated with Captain Sutter in
agricultural pursuits. Among other improvements, they are about to in-
troduce the cultivation of rape seed, (brassica rapus,) which there is every
reason to believe is admirably adapted to the climate and soil. The lowest
average produce of wheat, as far as we can at present know, is 35 fanegas
for one sown ; but, as an instance of its fertility, it may be mentioned that
Senor Valejo obtained, on a piece of ground where sheep had been pas-
tured, 800 fanegas for eight sown. The produce being different in various
places, a very correct idea cannot be formed.

An impetus was given to the active little population by our arrival, as
we were in want of every thing. Mules, horses, and cattle, were to be col-
lected ; the horse mill was at work day and night, to make sufficient flour ;
the blacksmith’s shop was put in requisition for horse shoes and bridle
bitts ; and pack saddles, ropes, and bridles, and all the other little equip-
ments'of the camp, were again to be provided.

The delay thus occasioned was one of repose and enjoyment, which our
situation required, and, anxious as we were to resume our homeward jour-
ney, was regretted by no one. In the mean time, I had the pleasure to meet
with Mr. Chiles, who was residing at a farm on the other side of the river
Sacramento, while engaged in the selection of a place for a settlement, for
w hich he had received the necessary grant of land from the Mexican Gov-
ernment.

It will be remembered that we had parted near the frontier of the States,
and that he had subsequently descended the valley of Lewis’s fork, with a
party of 10 or 12 men, w ith the intention of crossing the intermediate moun-
tains to the waters of the bay of San Francisco. In the execution of this
design, and aided by subsequent information, he left the Columbia at the
mouth of Malheur river; and, making his way to the head waters of the
Sacramento with a part of his company, travelled dowm that river to the
settlements of Nueva Helvetia. The other party, to whom he had com-
mitted his wagons, and mill irons and saws, took a course further to the
south, and the wagons and their contents were lost.

On the 22d we made a preparatory move, and encamped near the settle-
ment of Mr. Sinclair, on the left bank of the Rio de los Americanos. I had
discharged five of the party : Neal, the blacksmith, (an excellent workman,
and an unmarried man, who had done his duty faithfully, and had been of
very great service to me,) desired to remain, as strong inducements were
offered here to mechanics. Although at considerable inconvenience to my-
self, his good conduct induced me to comply with his request ; and I ob-
tained for him, from Captain Sutter, a present compensation of twTo dollars
and a half per diem, with a promise that it should beincreased to five, if he
proved as good a workman as had been represented. He wras more par-
ticularly an agricultural blacksmith. The other men were discharged with
their own consent.

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While we remained at this place, Derosier, one of our best men, whose
steady good conduct had won my regard, wandered off from the camp, and
never returned to it again ; nor has he since been heard of.

March 24. — We resumed our journey with an ample stock of provisions
and a large cavalcade of animals, consisting of 130 horses and mules, and
about thirty head of cattle, five of which were milch cows. Mr. Sutter
furnished us also w ith an Indian boy, who had been trained as a vaquero ,
and who would be serviceable in managing our cavalcade, great part ol
which were nearly as wild as buffalo ; and who was, besides, very anxious
to go along with us. Our direct course home was east; but the Sierra
would force us south, above five hundred miles of travelling, to a pass at
the head of the San Joaquin river. This pass, reported to be good, w7as
discovered by Mr. Joseph Walker, of whom I have already spoken, and
whose name it might therefore appropriately bear. To reach it, our course
lay along the valley of the San Joaquin — the river on our right, and the lofty
wrall of the impassable Sierra on the left. From that pass we were to move
southeastwardly, having the Sierra then on the right, and reach the “ Spanish
trail” deviously traced fromone watering place to another, which constitut-
ed the route of the caravans from Puebla delos Angeles, near the coast of
the Pacific, to Santa Fe of New Mexico. From the pass to this trail was 150
miles. Following that trail through a desert, relieved by some fertile plains
indicated by the recurrence of the term vegas , until it turned to the right
to cross the Colorado, our course would be northeast until we regained the
latitude we had lost in arriving at the Eutah lake, and thence to the Rocky
mountains at the head of the Arkansas. This conrse of travelling, forced
upon us by the structure of the country, would occupy a computed distance
of twro thousand miles before we reached the head of the Arkansas ; not a
settlement to be seen upon it; and the names of places along it, all being
Spanish or Indian, indicated that it had been but little trod by American
feet. Though long, and not free from hardships, this route presented some
points of attraction, in tracing the Sierra Nevada — turning the Great Basin,
perhaps crossing its rim on the south — completely solving the problem of
any river, except the Colorado, from the Rocky mountains on that part of
our continent — and seeing the southern extremity of the Great Salt lake,
of which the northern part had been examined the year before.

Taking leave of Mr. Sutter, who, with several gentlemen, accompanied us
a fewmiles onourway, we travelled about eighteen miles, and encamped on
the Rio de los Cosumnes , a stream receiving its name from the Indians who
live in its valley. Our road was through a level country, admirably suited
to cultivation, and covered with groves of oak trees, principally the ever-
green oak, and a large oak already mentioned, in form like those of the
white oak. The weather, which here, at this season, can easily be changed
from the summer heat of the valley to the frosty mornings and bright days
nearer the mountains, continued delightful for travellers, but unfavorable
to the agriculturists, whose crops of wheat began to wear a yellow tinge
from want of rain.

March 25. — We travelled for 2S miles over the same delightful country
as yesterday, and halted in a beautiful bottom at the ford of the Rio delos
Mukelemnes , receiving its name from another Indian tribe living on the
river. The bottoms on the stream are broad, rich, and extremely ferti e;
and the uplands are shaded with oak groves. A showy lupinus of extra-
ordinary beauty, growing four to five feet in height, and covered with

249 [ 174 ]

apikes in bloom, adorned the banks of the river, and filled the air with a
light and grateful perfume.

On the 26th we halted at the Arroyo de las Calaveras , (Skull creek,) a
tributary to the San Joaquin — the previous two streams entering the bay
between the San Joaquin and Sacramento rivers. This place is beautiful,
with open groves of oak, and a grassy sward beneath, with many plants in
bloom ; some varieties of which seem to love the shade of the trees, and
grow there in close small fields. Near the river, and replacing the grass,
are great quantities of ammo/e, (soap plant,) the leaves of which are used
in California for making, among other things, mats for saddle cloths. A
vine with a small white flower, ( melothria ,?) called here la yerba buena ,
and which, from its abundance, gives name to an island and town in the
bay, was to-day very frequent on our road — sometimes running on the
ground or climbing the trees.

March 27. — To-day we travelled steadily and rapidly up the valley ; for,
with our wild animals, any other gait was impossible, and making about
five miles an hour. During the earlier part of the day, our ride had been
over a very level prairie, or rather a succession of long stretches of prairie,
separated by lines and groves of oak timber, growing along dry gullies,
which are filled with water in seasons of rain ; and, perhaps, also, by the
melting snows. Over much of this extent, the vegetation was sparse ; the
surface showing plainly the action of water, which, in the season of flood,
the Joaquin spreads over the valley. About 1 o’clock we came again
among innumerable flowers ; and a few miles further, fields of the beautiful
blue -flowering lupine , which seems to love the neighborhood of water, indi-
cated that we were approaching a stream. We here found this beautiful
shrub in thickets, some of them being 12 feet in height. Occasionally three
or four plants were clustered together, forming a grand bouquet, about 90
feet in circumference, and 10 feet high ; the whole summit covered with
spikes of flowers, the perfume of which is very sweet and grateful. A lover
of natural beauty can imagine with what pleasure we rode among these
flowering groves, which filled the air with a light and delicate fragrance.
We continued our road for about half a mile, interspersed through an open
grove of live oaks, which, in form, were the most symmetrical and beautiful
we had yet seen in this country. The ends of their branches rested on the
ground, forming somewhat more than a half sphere of very full and regular
figure, with leaves apparently smaller than usual.

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

Our road was now one continued enjoyment ; and it was pleasant, riding
among this assemblage of green pastures with varied flowTers and scattered
groves, and out of the warm green spring, to look at the rocky and snowy
peaks where lately we had suffered so much. Emerging from the timber,
we came suddenly upon the Stanislaus river, where we hoped to find a
ford, but the stream was flowing by, dark and deep, swTollen by the moun-
tain snows; its general breadth was about 50 yards.

We travelled about five miles up the river, and encamped without being
able to find a ford. Here we made a large coral , in order to be able to
catch a sufficient number of our wild animals to relieve those previously
packed.

Under the shade of the oaks, along the river, I noticed erodium cicuta -
rium in bloom, eight or ten inches high. This is the plant which we had

250

[ 174 ]

seen the squaws gathering on the Rio de los Americanos. By the inhabit-
ants of the valley, it is highly esteemed for fattening cattle, which appear
to be very fond of it. Here, where the soil begins to be sandy, it supplies
to a considerable extent the want of grass.

Desirous, as far as possible, without delay, to include in our examination
the San Joaquin river, I returned this morning down the Stanislaus for 17
miles, and again encamped without having found a fording place. After
following it for 8 miles further the next morning, and finding ourselves in
the vicinity of the San Joaquin, encamped in a handsome oak grove, and,
several cattle beingkilled, we ferried over our baggage in their skins. Here
our Indian boy, who probably had not much idea of where he was going,
and began to be alarmed at the many streams which we were rapidly put-
ting between him and the village, deserted.

Thirteen head of cattle took a sudden fright, while we were driving them
across the river, and galloped off. I remained a day in the endeavor to
recover them ; but, finding they had taken the trail back to the fort, let them
go without further effort. Here we had several days of warm and pleasant
rain, which doubtless saved the crops below.

On the 1st of April, we made 10 miles across a prairie without timber,
when we were stopped again by another large river, which is called the
Rio de la Merced , (river of our Lady of Mercy.) Here the country had
lost its character of extreme fertility, the soil having become more sandy
and light ; but, for several days past, its beauty had been increased by the
additional animation of animal life ; and now, it is crowded with bands of
elk and wild horses ; and along the rivers are frequent fresh tracks of griz-
zly bear, which are unusually numerous in this country.

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

In one of the bands of elk seen to-day, there were about 200 ; but the
larger bands, both of these and wild horses, are generally found on the other
side of the river, which, for that reason, I avoided crossing. I had been
informed below, that the droves of wild horses were almost invariably found
on the western bank of the river ; and the danger of losing our animals
among them, together with the wish of adding to our reconnoissance the
numerous streams which run down from the Sierra, decided me to travel
up the eastern bank.

April 2. — The day was occupied in building a boat, and ferrying our
baggage across the river ; and we encamped on the bank. A large fishing
eagle, with white head and tail, was slowly sailing along, looking after sal-
mon ; and there were some pretty birds in the timber, with partridges,
ducks, and geese innumerable in the neighborhood. We were struck with
the tameness of the latter bird at Helvetia, scattered about in flocks near
the wheat fields, and eating grass on the prairie ; a horseman would ride by
within SO yards, without disturbing them.

April 3. — To-day we touched several times the San Joaquin river — here
a fine-looking tranquil stream, with a slight current, and apparently deep.
It resembled the Missouri in color, with occasional points of white sand ;
and its banks, where steep, were a kind of sandy clay ; its average width
appeared to be about eighty yards. In the bottoms are frequent ponds,
where our approach disturbed multitudes of wild fowl, principally geese.
Skirting along the timber, we frequently started elk ; and large bands were
seen during the day, with antelope and wild horses. The low country and

251

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the timber rendered it difficult to keep the main line of the river ; and this
evening we encamped on a tributary stream, about five miles from it3
mouth. On the prairie bordering the San Joaquin bottoms, there occurred
during the day but little grass, and in its place was a sparse and dwarf
growth of plants ; the soil being sandy, with small bare places and hillocks,
reminded me much of the Platte bottoms ; but, on approaching the timber,
we found a more luxuriant vegetation ; and at our camp was an abundance
of grass and pea vines.

The foliage of the oak is getting darker ; and every thing, except that the
weather is a little cool, shows that spring is rapidly advancing ; and to-day
we had quite a summer rain.

April 4. — Commenced to rain at daylight, but cleared off brightly at sun-
rise. We ferried the river without any difficulty, and continued up the San
Joaquin. Elk were running in bands over the prairie and in the skirt of
the timber. We reached the river again at the mouth of a large slough,
which we were unable to ford, and made a circuit of several miles around.
Here the country appears very flat; oak trees have entirely disappeared,
and are replaced by a large willow, nearly equal to it in size. The river is
about a hundred yards in breadth, branching into sloughs, and interspersed
with islands. At this time it appears sufficiently deep for a small steamer,
but its navigation w’ould be broken by shallows at low water. Bearing in
towards the river, we were again forced off by another slough ; and, pass-
ing around, steered towards a clump of trees on the river, and, finding
there good grass, encamped. The prairies along the left bank are alive
with immense droves of wild horses ; and they had been seen during the
day at every opening through the woods which afforded us a view across
the river. Latitude, by observation, 37° 08' 00" ; longitude 120° 45' 22."

April 5. — During the earlier part of the day’s ride, the country presented
a lacustrine appearance ; the river was deep, and nearly on a level with the
surrounding country ; its banks raised like a levee, and fringed with wil-
lows. Over the bordering plain were interspersed spots of prairie among
fields of tule (bulrushes,) which in this country are called tulares , and lit-
tle ponds. On the opposite side, a line of timber was visible, which, ac-
cording to information, points out the course of the slough, which, at times
of high water, connects with the San Joaquin river — a large body of water in
the upper part of the valley, called the Tule lakes. The river and all its
sloughs are very full, and it is probable that the lake is now discharging.
Here elk wrere frequently started, and one was shot out of a band which ran
around us. On our left, the Sierra maintains its snowy height, and masses
of snow appear to descend very low towards the plains ; probably the late
rains in the valley were snow on the mountains. We travelled 37 miles,
and encamped on the river. Longitude of the camp, 120° 28' 34", and
latitude 36° 49' 12".

April 6. — After having travelled 15 miles along the river, we made an
early halt, under the shade of sycamore trees. Here we found the San
Joaquin coming down from the Sierra with a westerly course, and check-
ing our way, as all its tributaries had previously done. We had expected
to raft the river ; but found a good ford, and encamped on the opposite bank,
where droves of wild horses were raising clouds of dust on the prairie.
Columns of smoke were visible in the direction of the Tule lakes to the
southward — probably kindled in the tulares by the Indians, as signals that
there were strangers in the valley.

252

[ 174 ]

We made, on the 7th, a hard march in a cold chilly rain from morning
until night — the weather so thick that we travelled by compass. This wTas
a traverse from the San Joaquin to the waters of the Tule lakes, and our
road was over a very level prairie country. We saw wolves frequency
during the day, prowling about after the young antelope, which cannot run
very fast. These were numerous during the day, and two were caught by
the people.

Late in the afternoon we discovered timber, which was found to be
groves of oak trees on a dry arroyo. The rain, which had fallen in fre-
quent showers, poured down in a storm at sunset, with a strong wind,
which swept off the clouds, and left a clear sky. Riding on through the
timber, about dark we found abundant water in small ponds, 20 to 30 yards
in diameter, with clear deep water and sandy beds, bordered with bog
rushes ( juncus effusus,) and a tall rush ( scirpus lacustris) 12 feet high,
and surrounded near the margin with willow trees in bloom ; among them
one which resembled salix myricoides. The oak of the groves was the
same already mentioned, with small leaves, in form like those of the white
oak, and forming, with the evergreen oak, the characteristic trees of the
valley.

April S. — After a ride of two miles through brush and open groves, we
reached a large stream, called the River of the Lake, resembling in size the
San Joaquin, and being about 100 yards broad. This is the principal trib-
utary to the Tule lakes, which collect all the waters in the upper part of
the valley. While we were searching for a ford, some Indians appeared on
the opposite bank, and, having discovered that we were not Spanish sol-
diers, showed us the way to a good ford several miles above.

The Indians of the Sierra make frequent descents upon the settlements
west of the Coast Range, which they keep constantly swept of horses ;
among them are many who are called Christian Indians, being refugees
from Spanish missions. Several of these incursions occurred while we
were at Helvetia. Occasionally parties of soldiers follow them across the
Coast Range, but never enter the Sierra.

On the opposite side we found some forty or fifty Indians, who had come
to meet us from the village below. We made them some small presents,
and invited them to accompany us to our encampment, which, after about
three miles through fine oak groves, we made on the river. We made a
fort, principally on account of our animals. The Indians brought otter
skins, and several kinds of fish, and bread made of acorns, to trade. A mong
them were several who had come to live among these Indians when the
missions were broken up, and who spoke Spanish fluently. They informed
us that they were called by the Spaniards mansitos , (tame,) in distinction
from the wilder tribes of the mountains. They, however, think themselves
very insecure, not knowing at what unforeseen moment the sins of the
latter may be visited on them. They are dark-skinned, but handsome and
intelligent Indians, and live principally on acorns and the roots of the tule,
of which also their huts are made.

By observation, the latitude of the encampment is 36° 24' 50", and lon-
gitude 119° 41 ' 40".

April 9. — For several miles we had very bad travelling over what is
called rotten ground, in which the horses were frequently up to their knees.
Making towards a line of timber, we found a small fordable stream, beyond
which the country improved, and the grass became excellent ; and, crossing

2 53

[ 174 ]

a number of dry and timbered arroyos , we travelled until late through open
oak groves, and encamped among a collection of streams. These were
running among rushes and willows; and, as usual, flocks of blackbirds
announced our approach to water. We have here approached considerably
nearer to the eastern Sierra, which shows very plainly, still covered with
masses of snow, which yesterday and to-day has also appeared abundant
on the Coast Range.

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

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

April 11. — A broad trail along the river here takes out among the hills.
“ Buen camino,” (good road,) said one of the Indians, of whom we had
inquired about the pass ; and, following it accordingly, it conducted us beau-
tifully through a very broken country, by an excellent way, which, other-
wise, we should have found extremely bad. Taken separately, the hills
present smooth and graceful outlines, but, together, make bad travelling
ground. Instead of grass, the whole face of the country is closely covered
with erodium cicutarium , here only two or three inches high. Its height
and beauty varied in a remarkable manner with the locality, being, in many
low places which we passed during the day, around streams and springs^
two and three feet in height. The country had now assumed a character
of aridity; and the luxuriant green of these little streams, wooded with
willow1, oak, or sycamore, looked very refreshing among the sandy hills.

In the evening we encamped on a large creek, with abundant water. I
noticed here in bloom, for the first time since leaving the Arkansas waters
the mirabilis Jalapa.

Jdpril 12. — Along our road to-day the country was altogether sandy, and
vegetation meager. Ephedra occidentalism which we had first seen in the
neighborhood of the Pyramid lake, made its appearance here, and in the
course of the day became verj' abundant, and in large bushes. Towards
the close of the afternoon, we reached a tolerably large river, which emp-
ties into a small lake at the head of the valley ; it is about thirty-five yards
wide, with a stony and gravelly bed, and the swiftest stream we have
crossed since leaving the bay. The bottoms produced no grass, though
well timbered with willow and cottonwood ; and, after ascending it for
several miles, we made a late encampment on a little bottom, with scanty
grass. In greater part, the vegetation along our road consisted now of
rare and unusual plants, among which many were entirely new.

Along the bottoms were thickets consisting of several varieties of shrubs
which made here their first appearance ; and among these wras Garrya
elliptica , (Lindley,) a small tree belonging to a very peculiar natural or-
der, and, in its general appearance, (growing in thickets,) resembling
willow. It now became common along the streams, frequently supplying
the place of salix longifolia.

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C 174 ]

April 13. — The water was low, and a few miles above we forded the
river at a rapid, and marched in a southeasterly direction over a less broken
country. The mountains were now very near, occasionally looming out
through fog. In a few hours we reached the bottom of a creek without
water, over which the sandy beds were dispersed in many branches. Im-
mediately where we struck it, the timber terminated ; and below, to the
right, it was a broad bed of dry and bare sands. There were many tracks
of Indians and horses imprinted in the sand, which, with other indications,
informed us was the creek issuing from the pass, and which on the map
we have called Pass creek. We ascended a trail for a few miles along the
creek, and suddenly found a stream of water five feet wide, tunning with
a lively current, but losing itself almost immediately. This little stream
showed plainly the manner in which the mountain waters lose themselves
in sand at the eastern foot of the Sierra, leaving only a parched desert and
arid plains beyond. The stream enlarged rapidly, and the timber became
abundant as wfe ascended. A new species of pine made its appearance,
with several kinds of oaks, and a variety of trees; and the country chang-
ing its appearance suddenly and entirely, we found ourselves again travel-
ling among the old orchard-like places. Here we selected a delightful en-
campment in a handsome green oak hollow, where, among the open bolls
of the trees, was an abundant sward of grass and pea vines. In the even-
ing a Christian Indian rode into the camp, well dressed, wTith long spurs,
and a sombrero , and speaking Spanish fluently. It was an unexpected ap-
parition, and a strange and pleasant sight in this desolate gorge of a moun-
tain— an Indian face, Spanish costume, jingling spurs, and horse equipped
after the Spanish manner. He informed me that he belonged to one of the
Spanish missions to the south, distant tvvo or three days’ ride, and that he
had obtained from the priests leave to spend a fewr days with his relations
in the Sierra. Having seen us enter th e pass, he had come down to visit
us. lie appeared familiarly acquainted with the country, and gave me
definite and clear information in regard to the desert region east of the
mountains. I had entered the pass with a strong disposition to vary my
route, and to travel directly across towards the Great Salt lake, in the view
of obtaining some acquaintance w ith the interior of the Great Basin, while
pursuing a direct course for the frontier ; but his representation, which de-
scribed it as an arid and barren desert, that had repulsed by its stei ility all
the attempts of the Indians to penetrate it, determined me for the present
to relinquish the plan; and, agieeably to his advice, after crossing the
Sierra, continue our intended route along its eastern base to the Spanish
trail. By this route, a party of six Indians, who had come from a great
river in the eastern part of the desert to trade with his people, had just
started on their return. He would himself return the next day to San
Fernando ; and as our roads would be the same for two days, he offered
his ser vices to conduct us so far on our way.. His offer was gladly accepted.
The fog, which had somewhat interfered with views in the valley, had en-
tirely passed off, and left a clear sky. That which had enveloped us in
the neighborhood of ihe pass proceeded evidently from fires kindled among
the tulares by Indians living near the lakes, and which were intended to
warn those in the mountains that there were strangers in the valley. Our
position wjs in latitude 35° 17' 12", and longitude 1 18° 35' 03".

•April 14. — Our guide joined us this morning on the trail; and, arriving
in a short distance at an open bottom where the creek forked, we continued

255

[ 174 ]

up the right-hand branch, which was enriched by a profusion of flowers,
and handsomely wooded with sycamore, oaks, cottonwood, and willow, with
other trees, and some shrubby plants. In its long strings of balls, this
sycamore differs from that of the United States, and is the platanus occi-
dentalis of Hooker — a new species, recently described among the plants
collected in the voyage of the Sulphur. The cottonwood varied its foliage
with white tufts, and the feathery seeds were flying plentifully through the
air. Gooseberries, nearly ripe, were very abundant on the mountain ; and
as we passed the dividing grounds, which were not very easy to ascertain,
the air was filled with peifume,asif we were entering a highly cultivated
garden ; and, instead of green, our pathway and the mountain sides were
coves ed with fields of yellow flowers, w hich here was the prevailing color.
Our journey to-day w7as in the midst of an advanced spring, whose green
and floral beauty offered a delightful contrast to the sandy valley we had
just left. All the day, snow’ was in sight on the butt of the mountain, which
frowned dow7n upon us on the right ; but we beheld it now w ith feelings
of pleasant secur ity, as we rode along between green trees and on flowers,
with humming birds and other feathered friends of the traveller enlivening
the serene spring air. As we reached the summit of this beautiful pass,
and obtained a view7 into the eastern country, we saw at once that here
was the place to take leave of all such pleasant scenes as those around us.
The distant mountains were now bald rocks again ; and below, the land
had any color but green. Taking into consideration the nature of the
Sierra Nevada, we found this pass an excellent one for horses ; and with
a little labor, or perhaps with a more perfect examination of the localities,
it might be made sufficiently practicable for wagons. Its latitude and lon-
gitude may be considered that of our last encampment, only a few miles
distant. The elevation was not taken — our half-wild cavalcade making it
too troublesome to halt before night, when once started.

We here left the waters of the bay of San Francisco, and, though forced
upon them contrary to my intentions, I cannot regret the necessity which
occasioned the deviation. It made me well acquainted with the great
range off the Sierra Nevada of the Alta California, and showed that this
broad and elevated snowy ridge was a continuation of the Cascade Range
of Oregon, between which and the ocean there is still another and a lower
range, parallel to the former and to the coast, and which may be called the
Coast Range. It also made me well acquainted with the basin of the San
Francisco bay, and with the two pretty rivers and their valleys, ( the Sacra-
mento and San Joaquin,) which are tributary to that bay ; and cleared up
gome points in geography on which error had long prevailed. It had been
constantly represented, as I have alr eady stated, that the bay of San Fran-
cisco opened far into the interior, by some river coming down from the
base of the Rocky mountains, and upon which supposed stream the name
of Rio Buenaventur a had been bestowed. Our observations of the Sierra
Nevada, in the longdistance from the head of the Sacramento to the head
of the S-an Joaquin, and of the valley below it, which collects all the waters
of (he San Francisco bay, show that this neither is nor can be the case.
No river from the interior does, or can, cross the Sierra Nevada — itself more
lofty than the Rocky mountains ; and as to the Buenaventura, the mouth
of which seen on the coast gave die idea and the name of the reputed groat
river, it is, in fact, a small stream of no consequence, not only below the
Sierra Nevada, but actually below the Coast Range — -taking its rise within

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half a degree of the ocean, running parallel to it for about two degrees,
and then falling into the Pacific near Monterey. There is no opening from
the bay of San Francisco into the interior of the continent. The two
rivers which flow into it are comparatively shoit, and not perpendicular
to the coast, but lateral to it, and having their heads towards Oregon and
southern California. They open lines of communication north and south,
and not eastwardly ; and thus this want of interior communication from
the San Francisco bay, now fully ascertained, gives great additional value
to the Columbia, which stands alone as the only great river on the Pacific
slope of our continent which leads from the ocean to the Rocky mountains,
and opens a line of communication from the sea to the valley of the Mis-
sissippi.

Four comparieros joined our guide at the pass ; and two going back at
noon, the others continued on in company. Descending from the hills, we
reached a country of fine grass, w here the erodium cicutarium finally dis-
appeared, giving place to an excellent quality of bunch grass. Passing by
some springs where there was a rich sward of grass among groves of large
black oak, wre rode over a plain on which the guide pointed out a spot
where a refugee Christian Indian had been killed by a party of soldiers
which had unexpectedly penetrated into the mountains. Crossing a low
sierra, and descending a hollow w here a spring gushed out, we were struck
by the sudden appearance of yucca trees, which gave a strange and south-
ern character to the country, and suited well with the dry and desert re-
gion wre were approaching. Associated with the idea of barren sands, their
stiff and ungraceful form makes them to the traveller the most repulsive
tree in the vegetable kingdom. Following the hollow, we shortly came
upon a creek timbered with large black oak, which yet had not put forth a
leaf. There was a small rivulet of running water, with good grass.

April 15. — The Indians wrho had accompanied the guide returned this
morning, and I purchased from them a Spanish saddle and long spurs, as
reminiscences of the time ; and for a few yards of scarlet cloth they gave
me a horse, which afterwards became food for other Indians.

We continued a short distance down the creek, in which our guide in-
formed us that the water very soon disappeared, and turned directly to the
southward along the foot of the mountain ; the trail on which we rode ap-
pearing to describe the eastern limit of travel, where water and grass ter-
minated. Crossing a low spur, which bordered the creek, we descended to
a kind of plain among the lower spurs ; the desert being in full view on
our left, apparently illimitable. A hot mist lay over it to-day, through
which it had a white and glistening appearance ; here and there a few dry-
looking buttes and isolated black ridges rose suddenly upon it. “ There, n
said our guide, stretching out his hand towards it, “there are the great
llanos , ( plains ; ) no hay agua ; no hay zacaU — nada: there is neither water
nor grass — nothing ; every animal that goes out upon them, dies.” It was
indeed dismal to look upon, and hard to conceive so great a change in so
short a distance. One might travel the wTorld over, without finding a valley
more fresh and verdant — more floral and sjlvan — more alive with birds
and animals — more bounteously watered — than we had left in the San Joa-
quin : here, within a few miles ride, a vast desert plain spread before us,
from which the boldest traveller tur ed away in despair.

Directly in front of us, at some distance to the southward, and running
out in an easterly direction from the mountains, stretched a sierra, having

257 [ 174 {

at the eastern end (perhaps 50 miles distant) some snowy peaks, on which,
by the information of our guide, snow rested all the year.

Our cavalcade made a strange and grotesque appearance; and it was im-
possible to avoid reflecting upon our position and composition in this remote
solitude. Within two degrees of the Pacific ocean; already far south of the
latitude of Monterey; and still forced on south by a desert on one hand, and
a mountain range on the other; guided by a civilized Indian, attended by
two wild ones from the Sierra; a Chinook from the Columbia; and our own.
mixture of American, French, German — all armed; four or five languages
heard at once; above a hundred horses and mules, half wild; American,
Spanish, and Indian dresses and equipments intermingled — such was our
composition. Our march was a sort of procession. Scouts ahead, and on
the flanks ; a front and rear division ; the pack animals, baggage, and
horned cattle, in the centre ; and the whole stretching a quarter of a mile
along our dreary path. In this form we journeyed; looking more like we
belonged to Asia than to thb United States of America.

We continued in a southerly direction across the plain, to which, as well
as to all the country so far as we could see, the yucca trees gave a strange
and singular character. Several new plants appeared, among which was
a zygophyllaceous shrub (, zygophyllum Cali for nicum, Torr. & Frem.)
sometimes 10 feet in height; in form, and in the pliancy of its branches, it
is rather a graceful plant. Its leaves are small, covered with a resinous
substance; and, particularly when bruised and crushed, exhale a singular
but very agreeable and refreshing odor. This shrub and the yucca , with
many varieties of cactus, make the characteristic features in the vegetation
for a long distance to the eastward. Along the foot of the mountain, 20
miies to the southward, red stripes of flowers were visible during the morn-
ing, which we supposed to be variegated sandstones. We rode rapidly dur-
ing the day, and in the afternoon emerged from the yucca forest at the foot
of an outlier of the Sierra before us, and came among the fields of flowers
we had seen in the morning, which consisted principally of the rich orange-
colored Californian poppy, mingled with other flowers of brighter tints.
Reaching the top of the spur, which was covered with fine bunch grass,
and where the hills were very green, our guide pointed to a small hollow
in the mountain before us, saying, “ a es/e piedr a hay agua” He appeared
to know every nook in the country. W%<»ontinued our beautiful road, and
reached a spring in the slope, at the footof the ridge, running in a green
ravine, among granite boulders ; here nightshade, and borders of buck-
wheat, with their white blossoms around the granite rocks, attracted our
notice as familiar plants. Several antelopes were seen among the hills, and
some large hares. Men were sent back this evening in search of a wild
mule with a valuable pack, which had managed (as they frequently do) to
hide itself along the road.

By observation, the latitude of the camp is 34° 41' 42"; and longitude
118° 20' 00". The next day the men returned with the mule.

April 17. — Crossing the ridge by a beautiful pass of hollows, where sev-
eral deer broke out of the thickets, we emerged at a small salt lake in a
ration lying nearly east and west, where a trail from the mission of San
Buenaventura comes in. The lake is about 1,200 yards in diameter; sur-
rounded on the margin by a white salty border, which, by the smell, re-
minded us slightly of Lake Abert. There are some cotton woods, with willow
and elder, around the lake; and the water is a little salt, although not en-
17

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[ 174 ]

tirely unfit for drinking. Here we turned directly to the eastward, along
the trail, which, from being seldom used, is almost imperceptible ; and,
after travelling a few miles, our guide halted, and, pointing to the hardly
visible trail, Uaqui es camino said he, “no se pierde — va siempre He
pointed out a black butte on the plain at the foot of the mountain, where
we would find water to encamp at night ; and, giving him a present of knives
and scarlet cloth, we shook hands and parted. He bore off south, and in a
day’s ride would arrive at San Fernando, one of several missions in this
part of California, where the country is so beautiful that it is considered a
paradise, and the name of its principal town ( Puebla de los Angeles) would
make it angelic. We continued on through a succession of valleys, and
came into a most beautiful spot of flower fields: instead of green, tile hills
were purple and orange, with unbroken beds, into which each color was
separately gathered. A pale straw color, with a bright yellow, the rich red
orange of the poppy mingled with fields of purple, covered the spot with a
floral beauty; and, on the border of the sandy deserts, seemed to invite the
traveller to go no farther. Riding along through the perfumed air, we soon
after entered a defile overgrown with the ominous artemisia trident at a ,
which conducted us into a sandy plain covered more or less densely with
forests of yucca .

Having now the snowy ridge on our right, we continued our way towards
a dark butte belonging to a low sierra in the plain, and which our guide
had pointed out for a landmark. Late in the day the familiar growth of
cottonwood, a line of which was visible ahead, indicated our approach to
a creek, which we reached where the water spread out. into sands, and a
little below sank entirely. Here our guide had intended we should pass
the night; but there was not a blade of grass, and, hoping to find nearer
the mountain a little for the night, we turned up the stream. A hundred
yards above, we found the creek a fine stream, 16 feet wide, with a swift
current. A. dark night overtook us when we reached the hills at the foot
of the ridge, and we were obliged to encamp without grass; tying up what
animals we could secure in the darkness, the greater part of the wild ones
having free range for the night. Here the stream was two feet deep, swift
and clear, issuing from a neighboring snow peak. A few miles before
reaching this creek, we had crossed a broad dry river bed, which, nearer
the hills, the hunters had foumjfca bold and handsome stream.

April 18. — Some parties were engaged in hunting up the scattered horses,
and others in searching for grass above; both were successful, and late in
the day we encamped among some spring heads of the river, in a hollow
which was covered with only tolerably good grasses, the lower ground
being entirely overgrown with large bunches of the coarse stiff grass,
(car ex silchensis.)

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

Travelling close along the mountain, we followed up, in the afternoon
of the 19th, another stream, in hopes to find a grass patch like that of the
previous day, but were deceived ; except some scattered bunch grass, there
was nothing but rock and sand ; and even the fertility of the mountain
seemed withered by the air of the desert. Among the few trees was the
siut pine, ( pinus monophyllns.)

Our road the next day was still in an easterly direction along the ridge,
over very bad travelling ground, broken and confounded with crippled
trees and shrubs; and, after a difficult march of 18 miles, a general shout

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announced that we had struck the great object of our search — the Spanish
trail — which here was running directly north. The road itself, and its
course, were equally happy discoveries to us. Since the middle of Decem-
ber we had continually been forced south by mountains and by deserts, and
now would have to make six degrees of northing, to regain the latitude on
which we wished to cross the Rocky mountains. The course of the road,
therefore, was what we wanted; and, once more, we felt like going home-
wards. A road to travel on, and the right course to go, were joyful con-
solations to us ; and our animals enjoyed the beaten track like ourselves.
Relieved from the rocks and brush, our wild mules started off at a rapid rate,
and in 15 miles we reached a considerable river, timbered with cottonwood
and willow, where we found a bottom of tolerable grass. As the animals
had suffered a great deal in the last few days, rremainedhere all next day,
to allow them the necessary repose ; and it was now necessary, at every
favorable place, to make a little halt. Between us and the Colorado river we
were aware that the country was extremely poor in grass, and scarce for
water, there being many jornadas^ (days’ journey,) or long stretches of 40 to
60 miles, without water, where the road was marked by bones of animals.

Although in California we had met with people who had passed over this
trail, we had been able to obtain no correct information about it; and the
greater part of what we had heard was found to be only a tissue of false-
hoods. The rivers that we found on it were never mentioned, and others,
particularly described in name and locality, were subsequently seen in an-
other part of the country. It was described as a tolerably good sandy road,
with so little rock as scarcely to require th£ animals to be shod; and we
found it the roughest and rockiest road we had ever seen in the country;
and which nearly destroyed our band of fine mules and horses. Many an-
imals are destroyed on it every year by a disease called the foot evil; and
a traveller should never venture on it without having his animals well shod,
and also carrying extra shoes.

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

The morning of the 22d was clear and bright, and a snowy peak to the
southward shone out high and sharply defined. As has been usual since
we crossed the mountains and descended into the hot plains, we had a gale
of wind. We travelled down the right bank of the stream, over sands
which are somewhat loose, and have no verdure, but are occupied by va-
rious shurbs. A clear bold stream, 60 feet wide, ana several feet deep, had
a strange appearance, running between perfectly naked banks of sand. The
eye, however, is somewhat relieved by willows, and the beautiful green of
the sweet cottonwoods with which it is well wooded. As we followed along
its course, the river, instead of growing constantly larger, gradually dwin-
dled away, as it was absorbed by the sand. We were now careful to take
the old camping places of the annual Santa Fe caravans, which, luckily for
us, had not yet made their yearly passage. A drove of several thousand
horses and mules would entirely have swept away the scanty grass at the
watering places, and we should have been obliged to leave the road to ob-
tain subsistence for our animals. After riding 20 miles in a northeasterly
direction, we found an old encampment, where we halted.

By observation, the elevation of this encampment is 2,250 feet.

April 23. — The trail followed still along the river, which, in the course
of the morning, entirely ‘disappeared.. We continued along the dry bed,
in which, after an interval of about 16 miles, the water reappeared in

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some low places, well timbered with cottonwood and willow, where was
another of the customary camping grounds. Here a party of six Indians
came into camp, poor and hungry, and quite in keeping with the character
of the country. Their arms were bows of unusual length, and each had
a large gourd, strengthened with meshes of cord, in which he carried water.
They proved to be the Mohahve Indians mentioned by our recent guide ;
and from one of them, who spoke Spanish fluently, I obtained some inter-
esting information, which I would be glad to introduce here. An account
of the people inhabiting this region would undoubtedly possess interest for
the civilized world. Our journey homeward was fruitful in incident; and
the country through which we travelled, although a desert, afforded much
to excite the curiosity of the botanist; but limited time, and the rapidly ad-
vancing season for active operations, oblige me to omit all extended de-
scriptions, and hurry briefly to the conclusion of this report.

The Indian who spoke Spanish had been educated fora number of years
at one of the Spanish missions, and, at the breaking up of those establish-
ments, had returned to the mountains, where he had been found by a party
of Mohahve (sometimes called Amuchaba) Indians, among whom he bad
ever since resided.

He spoke of the leader of the present party as “ mi amo ” (my master.)
He said they lived upon a large river in the southeast, which the “ soldiers
called the Rio Colorado;” but that, formerly, a portion of them lived upon
this river, and among the mountains which had bounded the river valley
to the northward during the day, and that here along the river they had
raised various kinds of melons. They sometimes came over to trade with
the Indians of the Sierra, bringing with them blankets and goods manufac-
tured by the Monquis and other Colorado Indians. They rarely carried
home horses, on account of the difficulty of getting them across the desert,
and of guarding them afterwards from the Pa-utah Indians, who inhabit
the Sierra, at the head of the Rio Virgen, (river of the Virgin.)

He informed us that, a short distance below, this river finally disappear-
ed. The two different portions in which water is found had received from
the priests two different names ; and subsequently I heard it called by the
Spaniards the Rio de las Animas , but on the map we have called it the
Mohahve river.

April 24. — We continued down the stream (or rather its bed) for about
eight miles, where there was water still in several holes, and encamped.
The caravans sometimes continue below, to the end of the river, from which
there is a very Ion g jornada of perhaps sixty miles, without water. Here
a singular and new species of acacia, with spiral pods or seed vessels, made
its first appearance : becoming henceforward, for a considerable distance,
a characteristic tree. It was here comparatively large, being about 20 feet
in height, with a full and spreading top, the lower branches declining to-
wards the ground. It afterwards occurred of smaller size, frequently in
groves, and is very fragrant. It has been called by Dr. Torrey spirolohium
odoratum. The zygophyllaceous shrub had been constantly characteristic
of the plains along the river; and here, among many new plants, a new
and very remarkable species of eriogonum ( eriogonum inflatum , Torr. &
Frem.) made its first appearance.

Our cattle had become so tired and poor by this fatiguing travelling, that
three of them were killed here, and the meat dried. The Indians had now
an occasion for a great feast, and were occupied the remainder of the day

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and all the night in cooking and eating. There was no part of the animal
for which they did not find some use, except the bones. In the afternoon
we were surprised by the sudden appearance in the camp of two Mexi-
cans— a man and a boy. The name of the man was Andreas Fuentes ;
and that of the boy, (a handsome lad, 1 1 years old,) Pablo Hernandez .
They belonged to a party consisting of six persons, the remaining four
being the wife of Fuentes, the father and mother of Pablo, and Santiago
Giacome, a resident of New Mexico. With a cavalcade of about thirty
horses, they had come out from Puebla de los Angeles, near the coast,
under the guidance of Giacome, in advance of the great caravan, in order
to travel more at leisure, and obtain better grass. Having advanced as
far into the desert as was considered consistent with their safety, they halted
at the Archilette , one of the customary camping grounds, about 80 miles
from our encampment, where there is a spring of good water, with suffi-
cient grass ; and concluded to await there the arrival of the great caravan.
Several Indians were soon discovered lurking about the camp, who, in a
day or two after, came in, and, after behaving in a very friendly manner,
took their leave, without awakening any suspicions. Their deportment
begat a security which proved fatal. In a few days afterwards, suddenly
a party of about one hundred Indians appeared in sight, advancing to-
wards the camp. It was too late, or they seamed not to have presence of
mind to take proper measures of safety ; and the Indians charged down into
their camp, shouting as they advanced, and discharging flights of arrows.
Pablo and Fuentes were on horse guard at the time, and mounted, accord-
ing to the custom of the country. One of the principal objects of the In-
dians was to get possession of the horses, and part of them immediately
surrounded the band; but, in obedience to the shouts of Giacome, Fuentes
drove the animals over and through the assailants, in spite of their arrows ;
and, abandoning the rest to their fate, carried them off at speed across the
plain. Knowing that they would be pursued by the Indians, without
making any halt except to shift their saddles to other horses, they drove them
on for about sixty miles, and this morning left them at a watering place on
the trail, called Aguade Tomaso. Without giving themselves any time for
rest, they hurried on, hoping to meet the Spanish caravan, when they discov-
ered my camp. I received them kindly, taking them into my own mess, and
promised them such aid as circumstances might put it in my power to give.

April 25. — We left the river abruptly, and, turning to the north, regained
in a few miles the main trail, (which had left the river sooner than our-
selves,) and continued our way across a lower ridge of the mountain,
through a miserable tract of sand and gravel. We crossed at intervals the
broad beds of dry gullies, where in the season of rains and melting snows
there would be brooks or rivulets ; and at one of these, where there was
no indication of water, were several freshly-dug holes, in which there was
water at the depth of two feet. These holes had been' dug by the wolves,,
whose keen sense of smell had scented the water under the dry sand.
They were nice little wells, narrow, and dug straight down, and we got
pleasant water out of them.

The country had now assumed the character of an elevated and moun-
tainous desert ; its general features being black, rocky ridges, bald, and
destitute of timber, with sandy basins between. Where the sides of these
ridges are washed by gullies, the plains below are strewed with beds of
large pebbles or rolled stones, destructive to our soft-footed animals, accus-

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tomed to the grassy plains of the Sacramento valley. Through these
sandy basins sometimes struggled a scanty stream, or occurred a hole of
water, which furnished camping grounds for travellers. Frequently in our
journey across, snow was visible on the surrounding mountains ; but their
waters rarely reached the sandy plain below, where we toiled along, op-
pressed with thirst and a burning sun. But, throughout this nakedness
of sand and gravel, were many beautiful plants and flowering shrubs,
which occurred in many new species, and with greater variety than we
had been accustomed to see in the most luxuriant prairie countries ; this
was a peculiarity of this desert. Even where no grass would take root,
the naked sand would bloom with some rich and rare flower, which found
its appropriate home in the arid and barren spot.

Scattered over the plain, and tolerably abundant, was a handsome legu-
minous shrub, three or four feet high, with fine bright-purple flowers. It
is a new psoralen, and occurred frequently henceforward along our road.

Beyond the first ridge, .our road bore a little to the east of north, to-
wards a gap in a higher line of mountains ; and, after travelling about
twenty-five miles, we arrived at the Agua de Tomaso — the spring where
the horses had been left ; but, as we expected, they were gone. A brief
examination of the ground convinced us that they had been driven off by
the Indians. Carson and Godey volunteered with the Mexican to pursue
them ; and, well mounted, the three set off on the trail. At this stopping
place there were a few bushes and very little grass. Its water was a pool;
but near by was a spring, which had been dug out by Indians or travel-
lers. Its water was cool — a great refreshment to us under a burning sun.

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

I observed to-night an occultation of a2 Carter i, at the dark limb of the
moon, which gives for the longitude of the place 116° 23' 28"; the lati-
tude, by observation, is 35° 13' 08". From Helvetia to this place, the po-
sitions along the intervening line are laid down with the longitudes ob-
tained from the chronometer, which appears to have retained its rate re-
markably well ; but henceforward, to the end of the journey, the few lon-
gitudes given are absolute, depending upon a subsequent occultation and
eclipses of the satellites.

In the afternoon of the next day, a war-whoop was heard, such as In-
dians make when returning from a victorious enterprise ; and soon Carson
and Godey appeared, driving before them a band of horses, recognised by
Fuentes to be part of those they had lost. Two bloody scalps, dangling
from the end of Godey’s gun, announced that they had overtaken the In-
dians as well as the horses. They informed us, that after Fuentes left them,
from the failure of his horse, they continued the pursuit alone, and towards
nightfall entered the mountains, into which the trail led. After sunset the
moon gave light, and- they followed the trail by moonshine until late in the
night, when it entered a narrow defile, and was difficult to follow. Afraid
of losing it in the darkness of the defile, they tied up^their horses, struck no
fire, s,nd lay down to sleep in silence and in darkness. Here they lay from
midnight till morning. At daylight they resumed the pursuit, and about
sunrise discovered the horses; and, immediately dismounting and tying up
their own, they crept cautiously to a rising ground which intervened, from
the crest of which they perceived the encampment of four lodges close by
They proceeded quietly, and had got within thirty or forty yards of their ob

263

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ject, when a movement among the horses discovered them to the Indians;
giving the war shout, they instantiy charged into the camp, regardless of the
number which the four lodges would imply. The Indians received them
with a flight of arrows shot from their long bows, one of which passed
through Godey’s shirt collar, barely missing the neck; our men fired their
rifles upon a steady aim, and rushed in. Two Indians were stretched on
the ground, fatally pierced with bullets ; the rest fled, except a lad that was
captured. The scalps of the fallen were instantly stripped off; but in the
process, one of them, who had two balls through his body, sprung to his
feet, the blood streaming from his skinned head, and uttering a hideous
howl. An old squaw, possibly his mother, stopped and looked back from
the mountain side she was climbing, threatening and lamenting. The
frightful spectacle appalled the stout hearts of our men ; but they did what
humanity required, and quickly terminated the agonies of the gory savage.
They were now masters of the camp, which was a pretty little recess in the
mountain, with a fine spring, and apparently safe from all invasion. Great
preparations had been made to feast a large party, for it was a very proper
place for a rendezvous, and for the celebration of such orgies as robbers of
the desert would delight in. Several of the best horses had been killed,
skinned, and cut up ; for the Indians living in mountains, and only coming
into the plains to rob and murder, make no other use of horses than to eat
them. Large earthen vessels were on the fire, boiling and stewing the
horse beef; and several baskets, containing fifty or sixty pairs of moccasins,
indicated the presence, or expectation, of a considerable party. They released
the boy, who had given strong evidence of the stoicism, or something else,
of the savage character, in commencing his breakfast upon a horse’s head
as soon as he found he was not to be killed, but only tied as a prisoner.
Their object accomplished, our men gathered up all the surviving horses,
fifteen in number, returned upon their trail, and rejoined us at our camp in
the afternoon of the same day. They had rode about one hundred miles in
the pursuit and return, and all in thirty hours. The time, place, object,
and numbers, considered, this expedition of Carson andGodey may be con-
sidered among the boldest and most disinterested which the annals of western
adventure, so full of daring deeds, can present. Two men, in a savage des-
ert, pursue day and night an unknown body of Indians into the defiles of
an unknown mountain — attack them on sight, without counting numbers- —
and defeat them in an instant — and for what ? To punish the robbers of the
desert, and to avenge the wrongs of Mexicans whom they did not know.
I repeat: it was Carson and Godey who did this — the former an American ,
born in the Boonslick county of Missouri ; the latter a Frenchman, born in
St. Louis — and both trained to western enterprise from early life.

By the information of Fuentes, we had now to make a long stretch of
forty or fifty miles across a plain which lay between us and the next possi-
ble camp; and we resumed our journey late in the afternoon, with the in-
tention of travelling through the night, and avoiding the excessive heat of
the day, which was oppressive to our animals. For several hours we trav-
elled across a high plain, passing, at the opposite side, through a canon by
the bed of a creek running northwardly into a small lake beyond, and both
of them being dry. We had a warm, moonshiny night ; and, travelling di-
rectly towards the north star, we journeyed now across an open plain be-
tween mountain ri ges ; that on the left being broken, rocky, and bald, ac-
cording to the information of Carson and Godey, who had entered here in

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pursuit of the horses. The plain appeared covered principally with the zygo -
phyllum Californicum already mentioned ; and the line of our road was
marked by the skeletons of horses, which were strewed to a considerable
breadth over the plain. We were afterwards always warned, on entering one
of these long stretches, by the bones of these animals, which had perished
before they could reach the water. About midnight we reached a consider-
able stream bed, now dry, the discharge of the waters of this basin, (when
it collected any,) down which we descended in a northwesterly direction.
The creek bed was overgrown with shrubbery, and several hours before
day it brought us to the entrance of a canon, where we found water, and
encamped. This word canon is used by the Spaniards to signify a defile
or gorge in a creek or river, where high rocks press in close, and make a
narrow way, usually difficult, and often impossible to be passed.

In the morning we found that we had a very poor camping ground: a
swampy, salty spot, with a little long, unwholesome grass ; and the water,
which rose in springs, being useful only to wet the mouth, but entirely too
salt to drink. All around was sand and rocks, and skeletons of horses
which had not been able to find support for their lives. As we were about
to start, we found, at the distance of a few hundred yards, among the hills
to the southward, a spring of tolerably good water, which was a relief to
ourselves; but the place was too poor to remain long, and therefore we
continued on this morning. On the creek were thickets of spirolobium
odoratum (acacia) in bloom, and very fragrant.

Passing through the canon, we entered another sandy basin, through
which the dry stream bed continued its northwesterly course, in which di-
rection appeared a high snowy mountain.

We travelled through a barren district, where a heavy gale was blowing
about the loose sand, and, after a ride of eight miles, reached a large creek
of salt and bitter water, running in a westerly direction, to receive the stream
bed we had left. It is called by the Spaniards Amargosa — the bitter water
of the desert. Where we struck it, the stream bends; and we continued in
a northerly course up the ravine of its valley, passing on the way a fork
from the right, near which occurred a bed of plants, consisting of a remark-
able new genus of cruciferse.

Gradually ascending, the ravine opened into a green valley, where, at
the foot of the mountain, were springs of excellent water. We encamped
among groves of the new acacia , and there was an abundance of good
grass for the animals.

This was the best camping ground we had seen since we struck the
Spanish trail. The day’s journey was about 12 miles.

April 29. — To-day we had to reach the Archilette , distant seven miles,
where the Mexican party had been attacked; and, leaving our encamp-
ment early, we traversed a part of the desert, the most sterile and repulsive
that we had yet seen. Its prominent features were dark sierras, naked and
dry ; on the plains a few straggling shrubs — among them, cactus of several
varieties. Fuentes pointed out one called by the Spaniards bisnada , which
has a juicy pulp, slightly acid, and is eaten by the traveller to allay thirst.
Our course was generally north; and, after crossing an intervening ridge,
we descended into a sandy plain, 'or basin, in the middle of which was the
grassy spot, with its springs and willow bushes, .which constitutes a camp-
ing place in the desert, and is called the Archilette. The dead silence of
the place was ominous; and, galloping rapidly up, we found only the

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corpses of the two men: every thing else was gone. They were naked,
mutilated, and pierced with arrows. Hernandez had evidently fought, and
with desperation. He lay in advance of the willow half-faced tent, which
sheltered his family, as if he had come out to meet danger, and to repulse
it, from that asylum. One of his hands, and both his legs, had been cut
off. Giacome, who was a large and strong-looking man, was lying in one
of the willow shelters, pierced with arrows. Of the women no trace could
be found, and it was evident they had been carried off captive. A little
lap-dog, which had belonged to Pablo’s mother, remained with the dead
bodies, and was frantic with joy at seeing Pablo : he, poor child, was frantic
with grief ; and filled the air with lamentations for his father and mother.
Mi padre ! Mi madre ! — was his incessant cry. When we beheld this
pitiable sight, and pictured to ourselves the fate of the two women, carried
off by savages so brutal and so loathsome, all compunction for the scalped-
alive Indian ceased ; and we rejoiced that Carson and Godey had been able
to give sd useful a lesson to these American Arabs, who lie in wait to
murder and plunder the innocent traveller.

We were all too much affected by the sad feelings which the place in-
spired, to remain an unnecesary moment. The night we were obliged to
pass there. Early in the morning we left it, having first written a brief
account of what had happened, and put it in the cleft of a pole planted at the
spring, that the approaching caravan might learn the fate of their friends.
In commemoration of the event, we called the place Agua de Hernandez —
Hernandez’s spring. By observation, its latitude was 35° 51' 21".

•April 30. — We continued our journey over a district similar to that of
the day before. From the sandy basin, in which was the spring, we entered
another basin of the same character, surrounded every where by moun-
tains. Before us stretched a high range, rising still higher to the left, and
terminating in a snowy mountain.

After a day’s march of 24 miles, we reached at evening the bed of a
stream from which the water had disappeared ; a little only remained in
holes, which we increased by digging; and about a mile above, the stream,
not yet entirely sunk, was spread out over the sands, affording a little water
for the animals. The stream came out of the mountains on the left, very
slightly wooded with cottonwood, willow, and acacia, and a few dwarf oaks;
and grass was nearly as scarce as water. A plant with showy yellow
flowers {Stanley a integrifolia) occurred abundantly at intervals for the
last two days, and eriogonum in flatum was among the characteristic plants.

May 1. — The air is rough, and overcoats pleasant. The sky is blue, and
the day bright. Our road was over a plain, towards the foot of the moun-
tain; zygophyllum Calif or nicum, now in bloom with a small yellow flower,
is characteristic of the country ; and cacti were very abundant, and in
rich fresh bloom, which wonderfully ornaments this poor country. We
encamped at a spring in the pass, which had been the site of an old village.
Here we found excellent grass, but very little water. We dug out the old
spring, and watered some of our animals. The mountain here was wooded
very slightly with the nut pine, cedars, and a dwarf species of oak ; and
among the shrubs were Purshia tridentala, artemisia , and ephedra occi-
dental!'s. The numerous shrubs which constitute the vegetation of the
plains are now in bloom, with flowers of white, yellow, red, and purple.
The continual rocks, and want of water and grass, begin to be very hard on
our mules and horses ; but the principal loss is occasioned by their crippled

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feet, the greater part of those left being in excellent order, and scarcely a
day passes without some loss ; and, one by one, Fuentes’s horses are con-
stantly dropping behind. Whenever they give out, he dismounts and cuts
of their tails and manes, to make saddle girths ; the last advantage one can
gain from them.

The next day, in a short but rough ride of 12 miles, we crossed the
mountain; and, descending to a small valley plain, encamped at the foot
of the ridge, on the bed of a creek, where we found good grass in sufficient
quantity, and abundance of water in holes. The ridge is extremely rugged
and broken, presenting on this side a continued precipice, and probably
affords very few passes. Many digger tracks are seen around us, but no
Indians were visible.

May 3. — After a day’s journey of 18 miles, in a northeasterly direction,
we encamped in the midst of another very large basin, at a camping ground
called las Vegas — a term which the Spaniards use to signify fertile or
marshy plains, in contradistinction to llanos , which they apply to Hry and
sterile plains. Two narrow streams of clear water, four or five feet deep,
gush suddenly, with a quick current, from two singularly large springs;
• these, and other waters of the basin, pass out in a gap to the eastward.
The taste of the water is good, but rather too warm to be agreeable ; the
temperature being 71° in the one, aiid 73° in the other. They, however,
afforded a delightful bathing place.

May 4. — We started this morning earlier than usual, travelling in a north-
easterly direction across the plain. The new acacia ( spirolobium odoratum)
has now become the characteristic tree of the country ; it is in bloom, and
its blossoms are very fragrant. The day was still, and the heat, which
soon became very oppressive, appeared to bring out strongly the refreshing
scent of the zygophyllaceous shrubs and the sweet perfume of the acacia.
The snowy ridge we had just crossed looked out conspicuously in the
northwest. In about five hours’ ride, we crossed a gap in the surrounding,
ridge, and the appearance of skeletons of horses very soon warned us that we
were engaged in another dr yjornada, which proved the longest we had
made in all our journey — between fifty and sixty miles without a drop of
water.

Travellers through countries affording water and timber can have no
conception of our intolerable thirst while journeying over the hot yellow
sands of this elevated country, where the heated air seems to be entirely
deprived of moisture. We ate occasionally the bisnada, and moistened
our mouths with the acid of the sour dock, ( rumex venosus.) Hourly ex-
pecting to find water, we continued to press on until towards midnight,
when, after a hard and uninterrupted march of 16 hours, our wild mules
began running ahead ; and in a mile or two we came to a bold running
stream — so keen is the sense 'of that animal, in these desert regions, in
scenting at a distance this necessary of life.

According to the information we had received, Sevier river was a tribu-
tary of the Colorado ; and this, accordingly, should have been one of its
affluents. It proved to be the Rio de los Angeles (river of the Angels) — a
branch of the Rio Virgen (river of the Virgin.)

May 5. — Ou account of our animals, it was necessary to remain to-day
at this place. Indians crowded numerously around us in the morning ;
and we were obliged to keep arms in hand all day, to keep them out
of the camp. They began to surround the horses, which, for the conve-

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nience of grass, we were guarding a little above, on the river. These were
immediately driven in, and kept close to the camp.

In the darkness of the night we had made a very bad encampment, our
fires being commanded by a rocky bluff within 50 yards ; but, notwithstand-
ing, we had the river and small thickets of willows on the other side. Several
times during the day the camp was insulted by the Indians ; but, peace
being our object, I kept simply on the defensive. Some of the Indians were
on the bottoms, and others haranguing us from the bluffs ; and they were
scattered in every direction over the hills. Their language being probably
a dialect of the Utah, with the aid of signs some of our people could com-
prehend them very well. They were the same people who had murdered
the Mexicans ; and towards us their disposition was evidently hostile, nor
were we well disposed towards them. They were barefooted, and nearly
naked ; their hair gathered up into a knot behind ; and with his bow, each
man carried a quiver with thirty or forty arrows partially drawn out.
Besides these, each held in his hand two or three arrows for instant service.
Their arrows are barbed with a very clear translucent stone, a species of
opal, nearly as hard as the diamond; and, shot from their long bow, are al-
most as effective as a gunshot. In these Indians, I was forcibly struck by an
expression of countenance resembling that in a beast of prey ; and all their
actions are those of wild animals. Joined to the restless motion of the eye,
there is a want of mind — an absence of thought — and an action wholly by
impulse, strongly expressed, and which constantly recalls the similarity.

*A man who appeared to be a chief, with two or three others, forced him-
self into camp, bringing with him his arms, in spite of my orders to the
contrary. When shown our weapons, he bored his ear with his fingers, and
said he could not hear. “ Why,” said he, “ there are none of you.” Count-
ing the people around the camp, and including in the number a mule
which was being shod, he made out 22. “ So many,” said he, showing the
number, “and we — we are a great many;” and he pointed to the hills and
mountains round about. “ If you have your arms,” said he, twanging his
bow, “ we have these.” I had some difficulty in restraining the ^people,
particularly Qarson, who felt an insult of this kind as much as if it had
been given by a more responsible being. “ Don’t say that, old man,” said
he ; “don’t you say that — your life’s in danger” — speaking in good Eng-
lish ; and probably the old man was nearer to his end than he will be be-
fore he meets it.

Several animals had been necessarily left behind near the camp last
night ; and early in the morning, before the Indians made their appearance,
several men were sent to bring them in. When I was beginning to be un-
easy at their absence, they returned with information that they had been
driven off from the trail by Indians ; and, having followed the tracks in a
short distance, they found the animals cut up and spread out upon bushes.

In the evening I gave a fatigued horse to some of the Indians for a feast;
and the village which carried him off refused to share with the others, who
made loud complaints from the rocks of the partial distribution. Many of #
these Indians had long sticks, hooked at the end, which they used in haul-
ing out lizards, and other small animals, from their holes. During the day
they occasionally roasted and ate lizards at our fires. These belong to the
people who are generally known under the name of Diggers ; and to these
I have more particularly had reference when occasionally speaking of a
people whose sole occupation is to procure food sufficient to support ex-

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[ 174 ]

istence. The formation here consists of fine yellow sandstone, alternat-
ing with a coarse conglomerate, in which the stones are from the size of
ordinary gravel to six or eight inches in diameter. This is the formation
which renders the surface of the country so rocky, and gives us now a road
alternately of loose heavy sands and rolled stones, which cripple the ani-
mals in a most extraordinary manner.

On the following morning we left the Rio de los Angeles, and continued
our way through the same desolate and revolting country, where lizards
were the only animal, and the tracks of the lizard eaters the principal sign
of human beings. After twenty miles5 march through a road of hills and
heavy sands, we reached the most dreary river I have ever seen — a deep
rapid stream, almost a torrent, passing swiftly by, and roaring against ob-
structions. The banks were wooded with willow, acacia, and a frequent
plant of the country already mentioned, {Garry a elliptica ,) growing in
thickets, resembling willow, and bearing a small pink flower. Crossing it,
we encamped on the left bank, where we found a very little grass. Our
three remaining steers, being entirely given out, were killed here. By the
boiling point, the elevation of the river here is 4,060 feet ; and latitude, by
* observation, 36° 41 ' 33". The stream was running towards the southwest,
and appeared to come from a snowy mountain in the north. It proved to
be the Rio Virgen — a tributary to the Colorado. Indians appeared in bands
on the hills, but did not come into camp. For several days we continued
our journey up the river, the bottoms of which were thickly overgrown
with various kinds of brush ; and the sandy soil was absolutely covered
with the tracks of Diggers , who followed us stealthily, like a band of
wolves ; and we had no opportunity to leave behind, even for a few hours,
the tired animals, in order that they might be brought into camp after a
little repose. A horse or mule, left behind, was taken off in a moment.
On the evening of the 8th, having travelled 28 miles up the river from our
first encampment on it, we encamped at a little grass plat, where a spring
of cool water issued from the bluff. On the opposite side was a grove of
cottonwoods at the mouth of a fork, which here enters the river. On
either side the valley is bounded by ranges of mountains, every where high,
rocky, and broken. The caravan road was lost and scattered in the sandy
country, and we had been following an Indian trail up the river. The
hunters the next day were sent out to reconnoitre, and in the mean time
we moved about a mile farther up, where we found a good little patch of
grass. There being only sufficient grass for the night, the horses were
sent with a strong guard in charge of Tabeau to a neighboring hollow,
where they might pasture during the day ; and, to be ready in case the In-
dians should make any attempt on the animals, several of the best horses
were picketed at the camp. In a few hours the hunters returned, having
found a convenient ford in the river, and discovered the Spanish trail on
the other side.

I had been engaged in arranging plants ; and, fatigued with the heat of
the day, I fell asleep in the afternoon, and did not awake until sundown.
‘Presently- Carson came to me, and reported that Tabeau, who early in the
day had left his post, and, without my knowledge, rode back to the camp
we had left, in search of a lame mule, had not returned. While we were
speaking, a smoke rose suddenly from the cottonwood grove below, which
plainly told us what had befallen him ; it was raised to inform the sur-
rounding Indians that a blow had been struck, and to tell them to be on

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their guard. Carson, with several men well mounted, was instantly sent
down the river, but returned in the night without tidings of the missing
man. They went to the camp we had left, but neither he nor the mule
was there. Searching down the river, they found the tracks of the mule,
evidently driven along by Indians, whose tracks were on each side of those
made by the animal. After going several miles, they came to the mule it-
self, standing in some bushes, mortally wounded in the side by an arrow,
and left to die, that it might be afterwards butchered for food. They also
found, in another place, as they were hunting about on the ground forTa-
beau’s tracks, something that looked like a little puddle of blood, but which
the darkness prevented them from verifying. With these details they re-
turned to our camp, and their report saddened all our hearts.

May 10. — This morning, as soon as there was light enough to follow
tracks, I set out myself, with Mr. Fitzpatrick and several men, in search of
Tabeau. We went to the spot where the appearance of puddled blood had
been seen ; and this, we saw at once, had been the place where he fell and
died. Blood upon the leaves, and beaten down bushes, showed that he had
got nis wound about twenty paces from where he fell, and that he had strug-
gled for his life. He had probably been shot through the lungs with an
arrow. From the place where he lay and bled, it could be seen that he had
been dragged to the river bank, and thrown into it. No vestige of what
had belonged to him could be found, except a fragment of his horse equip-
ment. Horse, gun, clothes — all became the prey of these Arabs of the New
World.

Tabeau had been one of our best men, and his unhappy death spread a
gloom over our party. Men, who have gone through such dangers and
sufferings as we had seen, become like brothers, and feel each other’s loss.
To defend and avenge each other* is the deep feeling of all. We wished
to avenge his death; but the condition of our horses, languishing for grass
and repose, forbade an expedition into unknown mountains. We knew the
tribe who had done the mischief — the same which had been insulting our
camp. They knew what they deserved, and had the discretion to show
themselves to us no more. The day before, they infested our camp: now,
not one appeared ; nor did we ever afterwards see but one who even be-
longed to the same tribe, and he at a distance.

Our camp was in a basin below a deep canon — a gap of two thousand
feet deep in the mountain — through which the Rio Virgen passes, and
where no man or beast could follow it. The Spanish trail, which we had
lost in the sands of the basin, was on the opposite side of the river. We
crossed over to it, and followed it northwardly towards a gap which was
visible in the mountain. We approached it by a defile, rendered difficult
for our barefooted animals by the rocks strewed along it ; and here the
country changed its character. From the time we entered the desert, the
mountains had been bald and rocky; here they began to be wooded with
cedar and pine, and clusters of trees gave shelter to birds — a new and wel-
come sight — which could not have lived in the desert v/e had passed.

Descending along hollow, towards the narrow valley a stream, we saw
before us a snowy mountain, far beyond which appearedanother more lofty
still. Good bunch grass began to appear on the hill sides, and here we found
a singular variety of interesting shrubs. The changed appearance of the
country infused amoqg our people a more lively spirit, which was heightened

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[ 174 ] *

by finding at evening a halting place of very good grass on the clear waters
of the Santa Clara fork of the Bio Virgen.

■ May 11. — The. morning was cloudy and quite cool, with a shower of
rain — the first we have had since entering the desert, a period of twenty-
seven days ; and we seem to have entered a different climate, with the usual
weather of the Rocky mountains. Our march to-day was very laborious,
over very broken ground, along the Santa Clara river ; but then the coun-
try is no longer so distressingly desolate. The stream is prettily wooded
with sweet cottonwood trees — some of them of large size ; and on the hills,
where the nut pine is often seen, a good and wholesome grass occurs fre-
quently. This cottonwood, which is now in fruit, is of a different species
from any in Michaux’s Syiva. Heavy dark clouds covered the sky in the
evening, and a cold wind sprang up, making fires and overcoats comforta-
ble.

May 12. — A little above our encampment, the river forked ; and we con-
tinued up the right hand branch, gradually ascending towards the summit
of the mountain. As we rose towards the head of the creek, the^iowy
mountain on our right showed out handsomely — high and ruggeu with
precipices, and covered with snow for about two thousand feet from their
summits down. Our animals were somewhat repaid for their hard marches
by an excellent camping ground on the summit of the ridge, which forms
here the dividing chain between the waters of the Rio Virgen , which goes
south to the Colorado, and those of Sevier river, flowing northwardly, and
belonging to the Great Basin. We considered ourselves as crossing the
rim of the basin; and, entering it at this point, we found here an exten-
sive mountain meadow, rich in bunch grass, and fresh with numerous
springs of clear water, all refreshing and delightful to look upon. It was,
in fact, that las Vegas de Santa Clara , which had been so long presented to
us as the terminating point of the desert, and where the annual caravan
from California to New Mexico halted and recruited for some weeks. It
was a very suitable place to recover from the fatigue and exhaustion of a
month’s suffering in the hot and sterile desert. The meadow was about a
mile wide, and some ten miles long, bordered by grassy hills and moun-
tains— some of the latter rising two thousand feet, and white with snow
down to the level of the vegas. Its elevation above the sea was 5,280 feet;
’latitude, by observation, 37° 28' 28" ; and its distance from where we first
struck the Spanish trail about four hundred miles. Counting from the time
we reached the desert, and began to skirt, at our descent from Walker’s
Pass in the Sierra Nevada, we had travelled 550 miles, occupying twen-
ty-seven days, in that inhospitable region. In passing before the great
caravan, we had the advantage of finding more grass, but the disadvantage
of finding also the marauding savages, who had gathered down upon the
trail, waiting the approach of that prey. This greatly increased our labors,
besides costing us the life of an excellent man. We had to move ail day in
a state of watch, and prepared for combat — scouts and flankers out, a front
and rear division of our men, and baggage animals in the centre. At night,
camp duty was^evere. Those who had toiled all day, had to guard, by
turns, the camp and the horses all night. Frequently one-third of the whole
party were on guard at once ; and nothing but this vigilance saved us from
attack. We were constantly dogged by bands, and even whole tribes of the
marauders ; and although Tabeau was killed, and our camp infested and in-
sulted by some, while swarms of them remained on the hills and mountain

271

#

[ 174 ]

sides, there was manifestly a consultation and calculation going on, to decide
the question of attacking us. Having reached the resting place of the Ve-
gas de Santa Clara , we had complete relief from the'heat and privations
of the desert, and some relaxation from the severity of camp duty. Some
relaxation, and relaxation only — for camp guards, horse guards, and scouts,
are indispensable from the time of leaving the frontiers of Missouri until
we return to them.

After we left the Vegas , we had the gratification to be joined by the fa-
mous hunter and trapper, Mr. Joseph Walker, whom I have before men-
tioned, and who now became our guide. He had left California with the
great caravan; and perceiving, from the signs along the trail, that there
was a party of whites ahead, which he judged to be mine, he detached him-
self from the caravan, with eight men, (Americans,) and ran the gauntlet of
the desert robbers, killing two, and getting some of the horses wounded,
and succeeded in overtaking us. Nothing but his great knowledge of the
country, great courage and presence of mind, and good rifles, could have
brought him safe from such a perilous enterprise.

May 13. — We remained one day at this noted place of rest and refresh-
ment; and, resuming our progress in a northeastwardly direction, we de-
scended into a broad valley, the water of which is tributary to Sevier lake.
The next day we came in sight of the Wah-satch range of mountains on
the right, white with snow, and here forming the southeast part of the Great
4 Basin. Sevier lake, upon the waters of* which we now were, belonged to
the system of lakes in the eastern part of the Basin — of which, the Great
Salt lake, and its southern limb, the Utah lake, were the principal — to-
wards the region of which we were now approaching. We travelled for
several days in this direction, within the rim of the Great Basin, crossing
little streams which bore to the left for Sevier lake ; and plainly seeing, by
the changed aspect of the country, that we were entirely clear of. the
desert, and approaching the regions which appertained to the system of the
Rocky mountains. We met, in this traverse, a few mounted Utah Indians,
in advance of their main body, watching the approach of the great caravan.

May 16. — We reached a small salt lake, about seven miles long and one
broad, at the northern extremity of which we encamped for the night. This
little lake, which well merits its characteristic name, lies immediately at
the base of the Wah-satch range, and nearly opposite a gap in that chain
of mountains through which the Spanish trail passes; and which, again
falling upon the waters of the Colorado, and crossing that river, proceeds
over a mountainous country to Santa Fe.

May 17. — After 440 miles of travelling on a trail, which served for a
road, we again found ourselves under the necessity of exploring a track
through the wilderness. The Spanish trail had borne off to the southeast,
crossing the Wah-satch range. Our course led to the northeast, along the
foot of that range, and leaving it on the right. The mountain present-
ed itself to us under the form of several ridges, rising one above the other,
rocky, and wooded with pine and cedar; the last ridge covered with snow.
Sevier river, flowing northwardly to the lake of the sape name, collects its
principal waters from this section of the Wah-satch cnain. We had now
entered a region of great pastoral promise, abounding with fine streams,
the rich bunch grass, soil that would produce wheat, and indigenous flax
growing as if it had been sown. Consistent wjgjvthe general character of
its bordering mountains, this fertility of soil and vegetation does not extend

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far into the Great Basin. Mr. Joseph Walker, our guide, and who has
more knowledge of these parts than any man I know, informed me that all
the country to the left was unknown to him, and that even the Digger
tribes, which frequented Lake Sevier, could tell him nothing about it.

May 20. — We met a band of Utah Indians, headed by a well-known
chief, who had obtained the American or English name of Walker, by
which he is quoted and well known. They were all mounted, armed with
rifles, and use their rifles well. The chief had a fusee, which he had car-
ried slung, in addition to his rifle. They were journeying slowly towards
the Spanish trail, to levy their usual tribute upon the great Californian cara-
van. They were robbers of a higher order than those of the desert. They
conducted their depredations with form, and under the color of trade and
toll for passing through their country. Instead of attacking and killing, they
affect to purchase — taking the horses they like, and giving something nomi-
nal in return. The chief was quite civil to me. He was personally ac-
quainted with his namesake, our guide, who made my name known to him.

He knew of my expedition of 1842; and, as tokons of friendship! Hand
proof that we had met, proposed an interchange of presents. We had no
great store to choose out of ; so he gave me a Mexican blanket, and I gave
him a very fine one which I had obtained at Vancouver.

May 23. — We reached Sevier river — the main tributary of the lake of
the same name — which, deflecting from its northern course, here breaks
from the mountains to enter the* lake. It was really a fine river, from eight
to twelve feet deep ; and, after searching in vain for a fordable place, we
made little boats (or, rather, rafts) out of bulrushes, and ferried across.
These rafts are readily made, and give a good conveyance across a river.
The rushes are bound in bundles, and tied hard ; the bundles are tied down
upon poles, as close as they can be pressed, and fashioned like a boat, in being
broader in the middle and pointed at the ends. The rushes, being tubular
and jointed, are light and strong. The raft swims well, and is shoved along
by poles, or paddled, or pushed and pulled by swimmers, or drawn by ropes.

On this occasion, we used ropes — one at each end — and rapidly drew our
little float backwards and forwards, from shore to shore. The horses swam. •
At our place of crossing, which was the most northern point of its bend, the
latitude was 39° 22' 19". The banks sustained the character for fertility
and vegetation which we had seen for some days. The name of this river
and lake was an indication of our approach to regions of which our people
had been the explorers. It was probably named after some American trap-
per or hunter, and was the first American name we had met with since
leaving the Columbia river. From the Dalles to the point where we turn-
ed across the Sierra Nevada, near 1,000 miles, we heard Indian names,
and the greater part of the distance none: from Nueva Helvetia (Sacra-
mento) {Ojas Vegas de Santa Clara , about 1,000 more, ail were Spanish;
from the Mississippi to the Pacific, French and American or English were 1
intermixed ; and this prevalence of names indicates the national character
of the first explorers.

We had here^ie misfortune to lose one of our people, Francois Badeau,
who had been with me in both expeditions; during which he had always
been one of my most faithful and efficient men. He was killed in drawing
towards him a gun by the muzzle ; the hammer being caught, discharged
the gun, driving the ba 41 through his head. We hurried him on the banks
of the river.

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Crossing the next day a slight ridge along the river, we entered a hand-
some mountain valley covered with fine grass, and directed our course to

wards a high snowy peak, at the foot of which lay the Utah lake. On
our right was a bed of high mountains, their summits covered with snow,
constituting the dividing ridge between the Basin waters and those of the
Colorado. At noon we fell in with a party of Utah Indians coming out
of the mountain, and in the afternoon encamped on a tributary to the lake,
which is separated from the waters of the Sevier by very slight dividing
grounds.

Early the next day we came in sight of the lake ; and, as we descended
to the broad bottoms of the Spanish fork, three horsemen were seen gallop-
ing towards us, who proved to be Utah Indians — scouts from a village,,
which was encamped near the mouth of the river. They were aimed
with rifles, and their horses were in good condition. We encamped near
them, on the Spanish fork, which is one of the principal tributaries to the
lake. Finding the Indians troublesome, and desirous to remain here a day,
we removed the next morning farther down the lake, and encamped on a
fertile bottom near the foot of the same mountainous ridge which borders
the Great Salt lake, and along which we had journeyed the previous Sep-
tember. Here the principal plants in bloom were two, which were re-
markable as affording to the Snake Indians — the one an abundant supply
of food, and the other the most useful among the applications which they
use for wounds. These were the kooyah plant, growing in fields of ex-
traordinary luxuriance, and convollaria stellata , which, from the expe-
rience of Mr. Walker, is the best remedial plant known among those In-
dians. A few miles below us was another village of Indians, from which
we obtained some fish — among them a few salmon trout, which were very
much inferior in size to those along the Californian mountains. The sea-
son for taking them had not yet arrived ; but the Indians were daily ex-
pecting them to come up out of the lake.

We had now accomplished an object we had in view when leaving the
Dalles of the Columbia in November last : we had reached the Utah lake;
but by a route very different from what we had intended, and without suf-
ficient time remaining to make the examinations which were desired. It?
is a lake of note in this country, under the dominion of the Utahs, who
resort to it for fish. Its greatest breadth is about 15 miles, stretching far
to the north, narrowing as it goes, and connecting with the Great Salt lake.
This is the report, and which I believe to be correct ; but it is fresh water,
while the other is not only salt, but a saturated solution of salt ; and here
is a problem which requires to be solved. It is almost entirely surrounded5
by mountains, walled on the north and east by a high and snowy range,
which supplies to it a fan of tributary streams. Among these, the principal
river is the Timpctn-ogo — signifying Rock river — a name which the rocky
grandeur of its scenery, remarkable even in this country of rugged moun-
tains, has obtained for it from the Indians. In the Utah language, og-w&k -
6et the term for river, when coupled with other words in common convert
sation, is usually abbreviated to ogo ; timpan signifying rock. It is probaft'
that this river furnished the name which on the older maps has been gene-
rally applied to the Great Salt lake ; but for this I have preferred a name
which will be regarded as highly characteristic, restricting to th 6 river the
descriptive term Timpan-ogo, and leaving for the lake into which it flowa
18

274

[ 174 ]

the name of the people who reside on ils shores, and by which it isknowu
throughout the country.

The volume of water afforded by the Timpan-ogo is probably equal to
that of the Sevier river; and, at the time of our visit, there was only one
place in the lake valley at which the Spanish fork was fordable. In the
cove of mountains along its eastern shore, the lake is bordered by a plain,
where the soil is generally good, and in greater part fertile ; watered by a
delta of prettily timbered streams. This would be an excellent locality
for stock farms ; it is generally covered with good bunch grass, and would
abundantly produce the ordinary grains.

In arriving at the Utah lake, we had completed an immense circuit of
twelve degrees diameter north and south, and ten degrees east and west;
and found ourselves, in May, 1844, on the same sheet of water which we
had left in September, 1843. The Utah is the southern limb of the Great
Salt lake ; and thus we had seen that remarkable sheet of water both at its
northern and southern extremity, and were able to fix its position at these
two points. The circuit which we had made, and which had cost us eight
months of time, and 3,500 miles of travelling, had given us a view of
Oregon and of North California from the Rocky mountains to the Pacific
ocean, and of the two principal streams which form bays or harbors on the
coast of that sea. Having completed this circuit, and being now about to
turn the back upon the Pacific slope of our continent, and to recross the
Rocky mountains, it is natural to look back upon our footsteps, and take
some brief view of the leading features and general structure of the coun-
try we had traversed. These are peculiar and striking, and differ essentially
from the Atlantic side of our country. The mountains all are higher, more
numerous, and more distinctly defined in their ranges and directions; and,
what is so contrary to the natural order of such formations, one of these
ranges, which is near the coast, (the Sierra Nevada and the Coast Range,)
presents higher elevations and peaks than any which are to be found in the
Rocky mountains themselves. I n our eight months’ circuit, we were never
out of sight of snow ; and the Sierra Nevada, where we crossed it, was
near 2,000 feet higher than the South Pass in the Rocky mountains. In
height, these mountains greatly exceed those of the Atlantic side, con-
stantly presenting peaks which enter the region of eternal snow ; and some
of them volcanic, and in a frequent state of activity. They are seen at
great distances, and guide the traveller in his courses.

The course and elevation of these ranges give direction to the rivers and
character to the coast. No great river does, or can, take its rise below the
Cascade and Sierra Nevada range ; the distance to the sea is too short to
admit of it. The rivers of the San Francisco bay, which are the largest
after the Columbia, are local to that bay, and lateral to the coast, having
their sources about on a line with the Dalles of the Columbia, and running
each in a valley of its own, between Coast range and the Cascade and Sierra
Nevada range. The Columbia is the only river which traverses the whole
breadth of the country, breaking through all the ranges, and entering the
sea. Drawing its waters from a section of ten degrees of latitude in the
Rocky mountains, which are collected into one stream by three main forks
(Lewis’s, Clark’s, and the North fork) near the centre of the Oregon valley,
this great river thence proceeds by a single channel to the sea, while its
three forks lead each to a pass in the mountains, which opens the way into

2?5

[ 174 ]

the interior of the continent. This fact in relation to the rivers of this
region gives an immense value to the Columbia. Its mouth is the only
inlet and outlet to and from the sea ; its three forks lead to the passes in
the mountains ; it is therefore the only line of communication between the
Pacific and the interior of North America ; and all operations of war or
commerce, of national or social intercourse, must be conducted upon it-.
This gives it a value beyond estimation, and would involve irreparable
injury if lost. In this unity and concentration of its waters, the Pacific
side of our continent differs entirely from the Atlantic side, where the
waters of the Allegany mountains are dispersed into many rivers, having
their different entrances into the sea, and opening many lines of communi-
cation with the interior.

The Pacific coast is equally different from that of the Atlantic. The
coast of the Atlantic is low and open, indented with numerous bays*,
sounds, and river estuaries, accessible every where, and opening by many
channels into the heart of the country. The Pacific coast, on the con-
trary, is high and compact, with few bays, and but one that opens into
the heart of the country. The immediate coast is what the seamen call
iron bound. A little within, it is skirted by two successive ranges of moun-
tains, standing as ramparts between the sea and the interior country ; and.
to get through which, there is but one gate, and that narrow and easily de-
fended. This structure of the coast, backed by these two ranges of moun-
tains, wiih its concentration and unity of waters, gives to the country an
immense military strength, and will probably render Oregon the most im-
pregnable country in the world.

Differing so much from the Atlantic side of our continent, in coast,,
mountains, and rivers, the Pacific side differs from it in another most rare
and singular feature — that of the Great interior Basin, of which I have s<r
often spoken, and the whole form and character of which I was so anxious
to ascertain. Its existence is vouched for by such of the American traders
and hunters as have some knowledge of that region ; the structure of the
Sierra Nevada range of mountains requires it to be there; and my own
observations confirm it. Mr. Joseph Walker, who is so well acquainted in
those parts, informed me that, from the Great Salt lake west, there was a
succession of lakes and rivers which have no outlet to the sea, nor any
connexion with the Columbia, or with the Colorado of the Gulf of Cali-
fornia. He described some of these lakes as being large, with numerous
streams, and even considerable rivers, falling into them. In fact, all concur
in the general report of these interior rivers and lakes; and, for want of
understanding the force and power of evaporation, which so soon estab-
lishes an equilibrium between the loss and supply of waters, the fable of
whirlpools and subterraneous outlets has gained belief, as the only imagi-
nable way of carrying off the waters which have no visible discharge..
The structure of the country would require this formation of interior lakes;
for the waters which would collect between the Rocky mountains and the
Sierra Nevada, not being able to cross this formidable barrier, nor to get to
the Columbia or the Colorado, must naturally collect into reservoirs, each
of which would have its little system of streams and rivers to supply it.
This would be the natural effect ; and what I saw went to confirm it. The
Great Salt lake is a formation of this kind, and quite a large one; and having
many streams, and one considerable river, four or five hundred miles long,
falling into it. This lake and river I saw and examined myself; and also saw

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[ 174 ]

the Wah-satch and Bear River mountains which enclose the waters of the
lake on the east, and constitute, in that quarter, the rim of the Great Basin.
Afterwards, along the eastern base of the Sierra Nevada, where we trav-
elled for forty-two days, I saw the line of lakes and rivers which lie at the
foot of that Sierra; and which Sierra is the western rim of the Basin. In
going down Lewis’s fork and the main Columbia, I crossed only inferior
streams coming in from the left, such as could draw their water from a
short distance only; and I often saw the mountains at their heads, white
with snow; which, all accounts said, divided the waters of the desert from
those of the Columbia, and which could be no other than the range of
mountains which form the rim ot the Basin on its northern side. And in
returning from California along the Spanish trail, as far as the head of the
Santa Clara fork of the Rio Virgen, I crossed only small streams making
their way south to the Colorado, or lost in sand — as the Mo-hah-ve ; while
to the left, lofty mountains, their summits white with snow, were often visi-
ble, and which must have turned water to the north as well as to the south,
and thus constituted, on this part, the southern rim of the Basin. At the
head of the Santa Clara fork, and in the Vegas de Santa Clara, we crossed
the ridge which parted the two systems of waters. We entered the Basin
at that point, and have travelled in it ever since, having its southeastern
rim (the Wah-satch mountain) on the right, and crossing the streams which
flow down into it. The existence of the Basin is therefore an established
fact in my mind ; its extent and contents are yet to be better ascertained.
It cannot be less than four or five hundred miles each way, and must lie
principally in the Alta California; the demarcation latitude of 42° proba-
bly cutting a segment from the north part of the rim. Of its interior, but
little is known. It is called a desert , and, from what I saw of it, sterility
may be its prominent characteristic ; but where there is so much water,
there must be some oasis. The great river, and the great lake, reported,,
may not be equal to the report; but where there is so much snow, there
must be streams ; and where there is no outlet, there must be lakes to hold
the accumulated waters, or sands to swallow them up. In this eastern
part of the Basin, containing Sevier, Utah, and the Great Salt lakes, and
the rivers and creeks falling into them, we know there is good soil and
good grass, adapted to civilized settlements. In the western part, on Sal-
mon Trout river, and some other streams, the same remark may be made>
The contents of this Great Basin are yet to be examined. That it is
peopled, we know ; but miserably and sparsely. From all that I heard and
saw, I should say that humanity here appeared in its lowest form, and in
its most elementary state. Dispersed in single families; without fire arms;
eating seeds and insects ; digging roots, (and hence their name) — such is
the condition of the greater part. Others are a degree higher, and live in
communities upon some lake or river that supplies fish, and from which
they repulse the miserable Digger. The rabbit is the largest animal known
in this desert ; its flesh affords a little meat ; and their bag-like covering is
made of its skins. The wild sage is their only wood, and here it is of ex-
traordinary size — sometimes a foot in diameter, and six or eight feet high.
It serves for fuel, for building material, for sheltef to the rabbits, and for
some sort of covering for the feet and legs in cold weather. Such are the
accounts of the inhabitants and productions of the Great Basin ; and which,
though imperfect, must have some foundation, and excite our desire to know*
the whole.

277

[ 174 ]

The whole idea of such a desert, and such a people, is a novelty in our
country, and excites Asiatic, not American ideas. Interior basins, with
their own systems of lakes and rivers, and often sterile, are common enough
in Asia ; people still in the elementary state of families, living in deserts,
with no other occupation than the mere animal search for food, may still
be seen in that ancient quarter of the globe ; but in America such things
are new and strange, unknown and unsuspected, and discredited when
related. But I flatter myself that what is discovered, though not enough
to satisfy curiosity, is sufficient to excite it, and that subsequent explorations
will complete what has been commenced.

This account of the Great Basin, it will be remembered, belongs to the
Alta California, and has no application to Oregon, whose capabilities may
justify a separate remark. Referring to my journal for particular descrip-
tions, and for sectional boundaries between good and bad districts, I can
only say, in general and comparative terms, that, in that branch of agri-
culture which implies the cultivation of grains and staple crops, it would
be inferior to the Atlantic States, though many parts are superior for wheat;
while in the rearing of flocks and herds it would claim a high place. Its
grazing capabilities are great; and even in the indigenous grass now there,
an element of individual and national wealth may be found. In fact, the
valuable grasses begin within one hundred and fifty miles of the Missouri
frontier, and extend to the Pacific ocean. East of the Rocky mountains,
it is the short curly grass, on which the buffalo delight to feed, (whence its
name of buffalo,) and which is still good when dry and apparently dead.
West of those mountains it is a larger growth, in clusters, and hence called
bunch grass, and which has a second or fall growth. Plains and mountains
both exhibit them ; and I have seen good pasturage at an elevation of ten
thousand feet. In this spontaneous product, the trading or travelling cara-
vans can find subsistence for their animals; and in military operations any
number of cavalry may be moved, and any number of cattle may be driven;
and thus men and horses be supported on long expeditions, and even in
winter in the sheltered situations.

Commercially, the value of the Oregon country must be great, washed
as it is by the north Pacific ocean — fronting Asia — producing many of the
elements of commerce — mild and healthy in its climate — and becoming, as
it naturally will, a thoroughfare for the East India and China trade.

Turning our faces once more eastward, on the morning of the 27th we
left the Utah lake, and continued for two days to ascend the Spanish fork,
which is dispersed in numerous branches among very rugged mountains,
which afford few passes, and render a familiar acquaintance with them
necessary to the traveller. The stream can scarcely be said to have a val-
ley, the mountains rising often abruptly from the water’s edge; but a good
trail facilitated our travelling, and there were frequent bottoms, covered
with excellent grass. The streams are prettily and variously wooded; and
every where the mountain shows grass and timber.

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

It will be remembered, that in crossing this ridge about 120 miles to the
northward in August last, strata of fossiliferous rock were discovered, which

278

[ 174 ]

have been referred to the oolitic period; it is probable that these rocks also
belong to the same formation.

A few miles from this encampment we reached the head of the stream;
and crossing, by an open and easy pass, the dividing ridge which separates
the waters of the Great Basin from those of the Colorado, we reached the
head branches of one of its larger tributaries, which, from the decided color
of its waters, has received the name of White river. The snows of the
mountains were now beginning to melt, and all the little rivulets were
running by in rivers, and rapidly becoming difficult to ford. Continuing a
few miles up a branch of White river, we crossed a dividing ridge between
its waters and those of the Uintah . The approach to the pass, which is
the best known to Mr. Walker, was somewhat difficult for packs, and im-
practicable for wagons — all the streams being shut in by narrow ravines,
and the narrow trail along the steep hill sides allowing the passage of only
one animal at a time. From the summit we had a fine view of the snowy
Bear River range; and there were still remaining beds of snow on the cold
sides of the hills near the pass. We descended by a narrow ravine, in
which was rapidly gathered a little branch of the Uintah, and halted to
ooon about 1,500 feet below the pass, at an elevation, by the boiling point,
of 6,900 feet above the sea.

The next day we descended along the river, and about noon reached a
point where three forks come together. Fording one of these with some
difficulty, we continued up the middle branch, which, from the color of its
waters, is named the Red river. The few passes, and extremely rugged
nature of the country, give to it great strength, and secure the Utahs from
the intrusion of their enemies. Crossing in the afternoon a somewhat
broken highland, covered in places with fine grasses, and with cedar on
the hill sides, we encamped at evening on another tributary to the Uintah,
called the Duchesne fork. The water was very clear, the stream not being
yet swollen by the melting snows; and we forded it without any difficulty.
It is a considerable branch, being spread out by islands, the largest arm
being about a hundred feet wide; and the name it bears is probably that
of some old French trapper.

The next day we continued down the river, which we were twice obliged
to cross; and, the water having risen during the night, it was almost every
where too deep to be forded. After travelling about sixteen miles, we en-
camped again on the left bank.

I obtained here an occultation of 8 Scorpii at the dark limb of the moon,
which gives for the longitude of the place 112° 18' 30", and the latitude
40° 18' 53".

June 1. — We left to day the Duchesne fork, and, after traversing a broken
country for about sixteen miles, arrived at noon at another considerable
branch, a river of great velocity, to which the trappers have improperly
given the name of Lake fork. The name applied to it by the Indians sig-
nifies great swiftness, and is the same which they use to express the speed
of a race horse. It is spread out in various channels over several hundred
yards, and is every where too deep and swift to be forded. At this season
of the year, there is an uninterrupted noise from the large rocks which are
rolled along the bed. After infinite difficulty, and the delay of a day, we
succeeded in getting the stream bridged, and got over with the loss of one
of our animals. Continuing our route across a broken country, of which
the higher parts were rocky and timbered with cedar, and the lower parts

279

[ 174 ]

covered with good grass, we reached, on the afternoon of the 3d, the
Uintah fort, a trading post belonging to Mr. A. Roubidean, on the principal
fork of the Uintah river. We found the stream nearly as rapid and diffi-
cult as the Lake fork, divided into several channels, which were too broad
to be bridged. With the aid of guides from the fort, we succeeded, with
very great difficulty, in fording it ; and encamped near the fort, which is
situated a short distance above the junction of two branches which make
the river.

By an immersion of the 1st satellite, (agreeing well with the result of the
occultation observed at the Duchesne fork,) the longitude of the post is 109°
56' 42", the latitude 40° 27' 45".

It has a motley garrison of Canadian and Spanish engages and hunters,
with the usual number of Indian women. We obtained a small supply of
sugar and coffee, with some dried meat and a cow, which was a very ac-
ceptable change from the pinnli on which we had subsisted for some weeks
past. I strengthened my party at this place by the addition of Auguste
Archambean, an excellent voyageur and hunter, belonging to the class of
Carson and Godey.

On the morning of the 5th we left the fort* and the Uintah river, and
continued our road over a broken country, which afforded, however, a rich
addition to our botanical collection ; and, after a march of 25 miles, were
again checked by another stream, called Ashley’s fork, where we were de-
tained until noon of the next day.

An immersion of the 2d satellite gave for this place a longitude of 109°
27' 07", the latitude by observation being 40° 28' 07".

In the afternoon of the next day we succeeded in finding a ford ; and,
after travelling fifteen miles, encamped high up on the mountain side, where
we found excellent and abundant grass, which we had not hitherto seen.
A new species of elymus , which had a purgative and weakening effect
upon the animals, had occurred abundantly since leaving the fort. From
this point, by observation 7,300 feet above the sea, we had a view of the
Colorado below, shut up amongst rugged mountains, and which is the re-
cipient of all the streams we had been crossing since we passed the rim of
the Great Basin at the head of the Spanish fork.

On the 7th we had a pleasant but long day’s journey, through beautiful
little valleys and a high mountain country, arriving about evening at the
verge of a steep and rocky ravine, by which we descended to “ Brown’s
hole’’ This is a place well known to trappers in the country, where the
canons through which the Colorado runs expand into a narrow but pretty
valley, about sixteen miles in length. The river was several hundred
yards in breadth, swollen to the top of its banks, near to which it was in
many places fifteen to twenty feet deep. We repaired a skin boat which
had been purchased at the fort, and, after a delay of a day, reached the op-
posite banks with much less delay than had been encountered on the Uin-
tah waters. According to information, the lower end of the valley is the
most eastern part of the Colorado ; and the latitude of our encampment,
which was opposite to the remains of an old fort on the left bank of the
river, was 40° 46' 27", and, by observation, the elevation above the sea

* This fort was attacked and taken by a band of the Utah Indians since we parsed it ; and the
men of the garrison killed, the women carried off. Mr. Roubideau, a trader of St. Louis, was ab-
sent, and so escaped the fate of the rest.

280

£ 174 ]

5,150 feet. The bearing to the entrance of the caiion below was south 20°
cast. Here the river enters between lofty precipices of red rock, and the
country below is said to assume a very rugged character; the river and
■its affluents passing through canons which forbid all access to (he water.
This sheltered little valley was formerly a favorite wintering ground for
£he trappers, as it afforded them sufficient pasturage for their animals, and
the surrounding mountains are well stocked with game.

We surprised a flock of mountain sheep as we descended to the river,
and our hunters killed several. The bottoms of a small stream called the
Vermillion creek, which enters the left bank of the river a short distance
below our encampment, were covered abundantly with F. vermiculciris ,
and other chenopodiaceous shrubs. From the lower end of Brown’s hole
-we issued by a remarkably dry canon, fifty or sixty yards. wide, and rising,
as we advanced, to the height of six or eight hundred feet. Issuing from
this, and crossing a small green valley, we entered another rent of the same
nature, still narrower than the other, the rocks on either side rising in nearly
vertical precipices perhaps 1,500 feet in height. These places are men-
tioned, to give some idea of the country lower down on the Colorado, to
which the trappers usually apply the name of a canon country. The canon
opened upon a pond of water, where we halted to noon. Several flocks of
mountain sheep were here among the rocks, which rung with volleys of
small arms. In the afternoon we entered upon an ugly, barren, and broken
•country, corresponding well with that we had traversed a few degrees
north, on the same side of the Colorado. The Vermillion creek afforded
us brackish water and indifferent grass for the night.

A few scattered cedar trees were the only improvement of the country
on the following day; and at a little spring of bad water, where we halted
to noon, we had not even the shelter of these from the hot rays of the sun.
At night we encamped in a fine grove of cottonwood trees, on the banks of
the Elk Head river, the principal fork of the Yampah river, commonly
called by the trappers the Bear river. We made here a very strong cortil
and fort, and formed the camp into vigilant guards. The country we were
now entering is constantly infested by war parties of the Sioux and other
Indians, and is considered among the most dangerous war grounds in the
Rocky mountains; parties of whites having been repeatedly defeated on
this river.

On the 11th we continued up the river, which is a considerable stream,
fifty to a hundred yards in width, handsomely and continuously wooded
with groves of the narrow-leaved cottonwood, (populns an gustifolia ;)
with these were thickets of willow and grain du bceuf. The characteristic
plant along the river is F. vermicularis , which generally covers the bot-
toms ; mingled with this, are saline shrubs and artemisia. The new variety
of grass which we had seen on leaving the Uintah fort had now disap-
peared. The country on either side was sandy and poor, scaniily wooded
with cedars, but the river bottoms afforded good pasture. Three ante-
lopes were killed in the afternoon, and we encamped a little below a branch
of the river, called St. Vrain’s fork. A few miles above was the fort at
which Frapp’s party had been defeated two years since ; and we passed
during the day a place where Carson had been fired upon so close that one
of the men had five bullets through his body. Leaving this river the next
morning, we took our way across the hills, where every hollow had a
spring of running water, with good grass.

281

[ 174 ]

Yesterday and to-day we have had before our eyes the high mountains
which divide the Pacific from the Mississippi waters; and entering here
among the lower spurs, or foot hills of the range, the face of the country
began to improve with a magical rapidity. Not only the river bottoms,
but the hills, were covered with grass ; and among the usual varied flora
of the mountain region, these were occasionally blue with the showy bloom
of a lupiniis. In the course of the morning we had the first glad view of
buffalo, and welcomed the appearance of two old bulls with as much joy
as if they had been messengers from home ; and when we descended to
noon on St. Vrain’s fork, an affluent of Green river, the hunters brought in
mountain sheep and the meat of two fat bulls. Fresh entrails in the river
showed us that there were Indians above ; and, at evening, judging it un-
safe to encamp in the bottoms, which were wooded only with willow thick-
ets, we ascended to the spurs above, and forted strongly in a small aspen
grove, near to which was a spring of cold water. The hunters killed two
fine cows near the camp. A band of elk broke out of a neighboring grove;
antelopes were running over the hills ; and on the opposite river plains,
herds of buffalo were raising clouds of dust. The country here appeared
more variously stocked with game than any part of the Rocky mountains
we had visited ; and its abundance is owing to the excellent pasturage,
and its dangerous character as a war ground.

June 13.-^-There was snow here near our mountain camp., and the morn-
ing was beautiful and cool. Leaving St. Vrain’sfork, we took our way di-
rectly towards the summit of the dividing ridge. The bottoms of the streams
and level places were wooded with aspens ; and as vve neared the summit,
we entered again the piney region. We had a delightful morning’s ride,
the ground affording us an excellent bridle path, and reached the summit
towards midday, at an elevation of 8,000 feet. With joy and exultation we
saw ourselves' once more on the top of the Rocky mountains, and beheld a
little stream taking its course towards the rising sun. It was an affluent of
the Platte, called PullanJs fork, and we descended to noon upon it. It is
a pretty stream, twenty yards broad, and bears the name of a trapper who,
some years since, was killed here by the Gros Ventre Indians.

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

We were now about two degrees south of the South Pass, and our course
home would have been eastwardly ; but that would have taken us over
ground already examined, and therefore without the interest which would
excite curiosity. Southwardly there were objects worthy to be explored, to
wit : the approximation of the head waters of three different rivers — the
Platte, the Arkansas, and the Grand River fork of the Rio Colorado of the
gulf of California ; the Passes at the heads of these rivers; and the three
remarkable mountain coves, called Parks, in which they took their rise.
One of these Parks was, of course, on the western side of the dividing ridge;
and a visit to it would require us once more to cross the summit of the
Rocky mountains to the west, and then to re-cross to the east ; making, in
all, with the transit we had just accomplished, three crossings of that moun-
tain in this section of its course. But, no matter. The coves, the heads of
the rivers, the approximation of their waters, the practicability of the moun-
tain passes, and the locality of the three Parks, were all objects of inter-
est, and, although well known to hunters and trappers, were unknown to

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science and to history. We therefore changed our course, and turned up
the valley of the Platte instead of going down it.

We crossed several small affluents, and again made a fortified camp in
a grove. The country had now become very beautiful — rich in water,
grass, and game ; and to these were added the charm of scenery and pleas-
ant weather.

June 14. — Our route this morning lay along the foot of the mountain,
over the long low spurs which sloped gradually down to the river, forming
the broad valley of the Platte. The country is beautifully watered. In al-
most every hollow ran a clear, cool mountain stream; and in the course of
the morning we crossed seventeen, several of them being large creeks, forty
to fifty feet wide, with a swift current, and tolerably deep. These were
variously wooded with groves of aspen and cottonwood, with willow,
cherry, and other shrubby trees. Buffalo, antelope, and elk, were frequent
during the day ; and, in their abundance, the latter sometimes reminded
us slightly of the Sacramento valley.

We halted at noon on Potter’s fork — a clear and swift stream, forty yards
wide, and in many places deep enough to swim our animals ; and in the
evening encamped on a pretty stream, where there were several beaver
dams, and many trees recently cut down by the beaver. We gave to this
the name of Beaver Dam creek, as now they are becoming sufficiently rare
to distinguish by their name the streams on which they are found. In this
mountain they occurred more abundantly than elsewhere in all our journey,
in which their vestiges had been scarcely seen.

The next day we continued our journey up the valley, the country pre-
senting much the same appearance, except that the grass was more scanty
on the ridges, over which was spread a scrubby growth of sage ; but still
the bottoms of the creeks were broad, and afforded good pasture grounds.
We had an animated chase after a grizzly bear this morning, which we
tried to lasso. Fuentes threw the lasso upon his neck, but it slipped off,
and he escaped into the dense thickets of the creek, into which we did not
like to venture. Our course in the afternoon brought us to the main Platte
river, here a handsome stream, with a uniform breadth of seventy yards,
except where widened by frequent islands. It was apparently deep, with
a moderate current, and wooded with groves of large willow.

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

It is from this elevated cove, and from the gorges of the surrounding
mountains, and some lakes within their bosoms, that the Great Platte river
collects its first waters, and assumes its first form ; and certainly no river
could ask a more beautiful origin.

June 16. — In the morning we pursued our way through the Park, follow-

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ing a principal branch of the Platte, and crossing, among many smaller
ones, a bold stream, scarcely fordable, called Lodge Pole fork, and which is-
sues from a lake in the mountains on the right, ten miles long. In the even-
ing we encamped on a small stream, near the upper end of the Park. Lati-
tude of the camp 40° 33' 22".

June 17. — We continued our way among the waters of the Park, over the
foot hills of the bordering mountains, where we found good pasturage, and
surprised and killed some buffalo. We fell into a broad and excellent trail,
made by buffalo, where a wagon would pass with ease ; and, in the course
of the morning, we crossed the summit of the Rocky mountains, through
a pass which was one of the most beautiful we had ever seen. The trail
led among the aspens, through open grounds, richly covered with grass, and
carried us over an elevation of about 9,000 feet above the level of the sea.

The country appeared to great advantage in the delightful summer
weather of the mountains, which we still continued to enjoy. Descending
from the pass, we found ourselves again on the western waters ; and halted
to noon on the edge of another mountain valley, called the Old Park, in
which is formed Grand river, one of the principal branches of the Colorado-
of California. We were now moving with some caution, as, from the trail*
we found the Arapahoe village had also passed this way. As we were
coming out of their enemy’s country, and this was a war ground, we were
desirous to avoid them. After a long afternoon’s march, we halted at night
on a small creek, tributary to a main fork of Grand river, which ran
through this portion of the valley. The appearance of the country in the
Old .Park is interesting, though of a different character from the New ; in-
stead of being a comparative plain, it is more or less broken into hills, and
surrounded by the high mountains, timbered on the lower parts with
quaking asp and pines.

June IS. — Our scouts, who were as usual ahead, made from a butte this
morning the signal of Indians, and we rode up in time to meet a party of
about 30 Arapahoes. They were men and women going into the hills — the
men for game, the women for roots — and informed us that the village was
encamped a few miles above, on the main fork of Grand river, which passes
through the midst of the valley. I made them the usual presents; but
they appeared disposed to be unfriendly, and galloped back at speed to the
village. Knowing that we had trouble to expect, I descended immediately
into the bottoms of Grand river, which were overflowed in places, the river
being up, and made the best encampment the ground afforded. We had no
time to build a fort, but found an open place among the willows, which was
defended by the river on one side and ihe overflowed bottoms on the other.
We had scarcely made our few preparations, when about 200 of them ap-
peared on the verge of the bottom, mounted, painted, and armed for war.
We planted the American flag between us; and a short parley ended in a
truce, with something more than, the usual amount of presents. About 20
Sioux were with them — one of them an old chief, who had always been
friendly to the whites. He informed me that, before coming down, a coun-
cil had been held at the village, in which the greater part had declared for
attacking us — we had come from their enemies, to whom we had doubtless
been carrying assistance in arms and ammunition ; but his own party, with
some few of the Arapahoes who had seen us the previous year in the
plains, opposed it. It will be remembered that it is customary for this peo-
ple to attack the trading parties which they meet in this region, considering

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all whom they meet on the western side of the mountains to be their ene-
mies. They deceived me into the belief that I should find a ford at then-
village, and I could not avoid accompanying them ; but put several sloughs
between us and their village, and forted strongly on the banks of the river,
which was every where rapid and deep, and over a hundred yards in breadth.
The camp was generally crowded with Indians ; and though the baggage
was carefully watched and covered, a number of things were stolen.

The next morning we descended the river for about eight miles, and
halted a short distance above a canon, through which Grand river issues
from the Park. Here it was smooth and deep, 150 yards in breadth, and
its elevation at this point 6,700 feet. A frame for the boat being very soon
made, our baggage was ferried across ; the horses, in the mean time, swim-
ming over. A southern fork of Grand river here makes its junction, nearly
opposite to the branch by which we had entered the valley, and up this we
continued for about eight miles in the afternoon, and encamped in a bottom
on the left bank, which afforded good grass. At our encampment it was
70 to 90 yards in breadth, sometimes widened by islands, and separated into
several channels, with a very swift current and bed of rolled rocks.

On the 20th we travelled up the left bank, with the prospect of a bad
road, the trail here taking the opposite side ; but the stream was up, and no-
where fordable. A piney ridge of mountains, with bare rocky peaks, was
on our right all the day, and a snowy mountain appeared ahead. We
crossed many foaming torrents with rocky beds, rushing down to the river;
and in the evening made a strong fort in an aspen grove. The valley had
already become very narrow, shut up more slosely in densely timbered
mountains, the pines sweeping down the verge of the bottoms. The coq
de prairie ( tetrao europhasianus) was occasionally seen among the sage.

We saw to-day the returning trail of an Arapahoe party which had been
sent from the village to look for Utahs in the Bayou Salade, (South Park;)
and it being probable that they would visit our camp with the desire to re-
turn on horseback, we were more than usually on the alert.

Here the river diminished to 35 yards, and, notwithstanding the number
of affluents we had crossed, was still a large stream, dashing swiftly by,
with a great continuous fall, and not yet fordable. We had a delightful ride
along a good trail among the fragrant pines; and the appearance of buffalo
in great numbers indicated that there were Indians in the Bayou Salade,
(South Park,) by whom they were driven out. We halted to noon under
the shade of the pines, and the weather was most delightful. The country
was literally alive with buffalo ; and the continued echo of the hunter’s
rifles on the other side of the river for a moment made me uneasy, thinking
perhaps they were engaged with Indians ; but in a short time they came
into camp with the meat of seven fat cows.

During the earlier part of the day’s ride, the river had been merely a
narrow ravine between high piney mountains, backed on both sides, but
particulariy on the west, by a line of snowy ridges ; but, after several hours’
ride, the stream opened out into a valley with pleasant bottoms. In the
afternoon the river forked into three apparently equal streams ; broad buffalo
trails leading up the left hand, and the middle branch indicating good passes
over the mountains ; but up the right-hand branch, (which, in the object of
descending from the mountain by the main head of the Arkansas, I was
most desirous to follow,) there was no sign of a buffolo trace. Apprehend-
ng from this reason, and the character of the mountains, which are known

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to be extremely rugged, that the right-hand branch led to no pass, I pro-
i ceeded up the middle branch, which formed a flat valley bottom between
timbered ridges on the left and snowy mountains on the right, terminating
in large buttes of naked rock. The trail was good, and the country inter-
esting ; and at nightfall we encamped in an open place among the pines,
where we built a strong fort. The mountains exhibit their usual varied
growth of flowers, and at this place I noticed, among others, thermopsis
montana , whose bright yellow color makes it a showy plant. This has
been a characteristic in many parts of the country since reaching the Uintah
waters. With fields of iris were aquilegia coerulea , violets, esparcette, and
strawberries.

At dark, we perceived a fire in the edge of the pines, on the opposite
side of the valley. We had evidently not been discovered, and, at the re-
port of a gun, and the blaze of fresh fuel which was heaped on our fires,
those of the strangers were instantly extinguished. In the morning, they
were found to be a party of six trappers, who had ventured out among the
mountains after beaver. They informed us that two of the number with
which they started had been already killed by the Indians — one of them
but a few days since — by the Arapahoes we had lately seen* who had found
him alone at a camp on this river, and carried off his traps and animals.
As they were desirous to join us, the hunters returned with them to their
encampment, and we continued up the valley, in which the stream rapidly
diminished, breaking into small tributaries — every hollow affording water.
At our noon halt, the hunters joined us with the trappers. While preparing
to start from their encampment, they found themselves suddenly surround-
ed by a party of Arapahoes, who informed them that their scouts had dis-
covered a large Utah village in the Bayou Salade, (South Park,) and that a
large war party, consisting of almost every man in the village, except those
who were too old to go to war, were going over to attack them. The main
body had ascended the left fork of the river, which afforded a better pass
than the branch we were on ; and this party had followed our trail, in order
that we might add our force to theirs. Carson informed them that we were
too far ahead to turn back, but would join them in the bayou ; and the In-
dians went off apparently satisfied. By the temperature of boiling water,
our elevation here was 10,430 feet; and still the pine forest continued, and
grass was good.

In the afternoon, we continued our road — occasionally through open
pines, with a very gradual ascent. We surprised a herd of buffalo, enjoying
the shade at a small lake among the pines ; and they made the dry branches
crack, as they broke through the woods. In a ride of about three-quarters
of an hour, and having ascended perhaps 800 feet, we reached the sum-
mit of the dividing KiDGE, which would thus have an estimated height
of 1 1,200 feet. Here the river spreads itself into smaLl branches and springs,
heading nearly in the summit of the ridge, which is very narrow. Imme-
diately below us was a green valley, through which ran a stream; and a short
| distance opposite rose snowy mountains, whose summits were formed into
; peaks of naked rock. We soon afterwards satisfied ourselves that imme-
diately beyond these mountains was the main branch of the Arkansas
: river — most probably heading directly with the little stream below us,
which gathered' its waters in the snowy mountains near by. Descriptions
| of the rugged character of the mountains around the head of the Arkan-
i sas, which their appearance amply justified, deterred me from making any

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attempt to reach it, which would have involved a greater length of time
than now remained at my disposal.

In about a quarter ot an hour, we descended from the summit of the Pass
into the creek below, our road having been very much controlled and inter-
rupted by the pines and springs on the mountain side. Turning up the
stream, we encamped on a bottom of good grass near its head, which gath-
ers its waters in the dividing crest of the Rocky mountains, and, according
to the best information we could obtain, separated only by the rocky wall
of the ridge from the head of the main Arkansas river. By the observa-
tions of the evening, the latitude of our encampment was 39° 2 O' 24", and
south of which, therefore, is the head of the Arkansas river. The stream
on which we had encamped is the head of either the Fontaine-qui-bouit ,
a branch of the Arkansas, or the remotest head of the south fork of the
Platte ; as which, you will find it laid down on the map. But descending
it only through a portion of its course, we have not been able to settle this
point satisfactorily.

In the evening, a band of buffalo furnished a little excitement, by charging
through the camp.

On the following day, we descended the stream by an excellent buffalo
trail, along the open grassy bottom of the river. On our right, the bayou
was bordered by a mountainous range, crested with rocky and naked peaks;
and below, it had a beautiful park-like character of pretty level prairies, in-
terspersed among low spurs, wooded openly with pine and quaking asp,
contrasting well with the denser pines which swept around on the moun-
tain sides. Descending always the valley of the stream, towards noon we
descried a mounted party descending the point of a spur, and, judging them
to be Arapahoes — who, defeated or victorious, were equally dangerous to
us, and with whom a fight would be inevitable — we hurried to post our-
selves as strongly as possible on some willow islands in the river. We had
scarcely halted when they arrived, proving to be a party of Utah women,
who told us that on the other side of the ridge their village was fighting
with the Arapahoes. As soon as they had given us this information, they
filled the air with cries and lamentations, which made us understand that
some of their chiefs had been killed.

Extending along the river, directly ahead of us, was a low piney ridge,
leaving between it and the stream a small open bottom, on which the
Utahs had very injudiciously placed their village, which, according to the
women, numbered about 300 warriors. Advancing in the cover of the
pines, the Arapahoes, about daylight, charged into the village, driving off
a great number of their horses, and killing four men ; among them, the
principal chief of the village. They drove the horses perhaps a mile be-
yond the village, to the end of a hollow, where they had previously forted
at the edge of the pines. Here the Utahs had instantly attacked them in
turn, and, according to the report of the women, were getting rather the
best of the day. The women pressed us eagerly to join with their people,
and would immediately have provided us with the best horses at the vil-
lage; but it was not for us to interfere in such a conflict. Neither party
were our friends, or under our protection ; and each was ready to prey
upon us that could. But we could not help feeling an unusual excitement
at being within a few hundred yards of a fight, in which 500 men were
•closely engaged, and hearing the sharp cracks of their rifles. We were in
a bad position, and subject to be attacked in it. Either party which we

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might meet, victorious or defeated, was certain to fall upon us; and, gear-
ing up immediately, we kept close along the pines of the ridge, having it
between us and the village, and keeping the scouts on the summit, to give
j us notice of the approach of Indians. As we passed by the village, which
! was immediately below us, horsemen were galloping to and fro, and groups
of people were gathered around those who were wounded and dead, and
who were being brought in from the field. We continued to press on, and,
crossing another fork, which came in from the right, after having made
fifteen miles from the village, fortified ourselves strongly in the pines, a
I short distance from the river.

During the afternoon, Pike’s Peak had been plainly in view before us,
and, from our encampment, bore N. 87° E. by compass. This was a
familiar object, and it had for us the face of an old friend. At its foot
“were the springs, where we had spent a pleasant day in coming out. Near
it were the habitations of civilized men: and it overlooked the broad
smooth plains, which promised us an easy journey to our home.

The next day we left the river, which continued its course towards
Pike’s Peak; and taking a southeasterly direction, in about ten miles we
crossed a gentle ridge, and, issuing from the South Park, found ourselves
involved among the broken spurs of the mountains which border the great
prairie plains. Although broken and extremely rugged, the country was
very interesting, being well watered by numerous affluents to the Arkansas
river, and covered with grass and a variety of trees. The streams, which,
in the upper part of their course, ran through grassy and open hollows,
after a few miles all descended into deep and impracticable canons, through
which they found their way to the Arkansas valley. Here the buffalo
trails we had followed were dispersed among the hills, or crossed over into
the more open valleys of other streams.

During the day our road was fatiguing and difficult, reminding us much,
by its steep and rocky character, of our travelling the year before among
the Wind river mountains; but always at night we found some grassy
bottom, which afforded us a pleasant camp. In the deep seclusion of these
little streams, we found always an abundant pasturage, and a wild luxu-
riance of plants and trees. Aspens and pines were the prevailing timber :
on the creeks, oak was frequent ; but the narrow-leaved cottonwood, {pop-
ulus angustifolia,) of unusually large size, and seven or eight feet in
I circumference, was the principal tree. With these were mingled a variety of
‘ shrubby trees, which aided to make the ravines almost impenetrable.

After several days’ laborious travelling, we succeeded in extricating
ourselves from the mountains, and on the morning of the 28th encamped
immediately at their foot, on a handsome tributary to the Arkansas river.
In the afternoon we descended the stream, winding our way along the
| bottoms, which were densely wooded with oak, and in the evening en-
camped near the main river. Continuing the next day our road along the
Arkansas, and meeting on the way a war party of Arapahoe Indians, (who
had recently been committing some outrages at Bent’s fort, killing stock
and driving off horses,) we arrived before sunset at the Pueblo, near the
mouth of the Fontaine-qui-bouit river, where we had the pleasure to find
a number of our old acquaintances. The little settlement appeared in a
thriving condition ; and in the interval of our absence another had been
1 established on the river, some thirty miles above.

June 30. — Our cavalcade moved rapidly down the Arkansas, along the

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[ ]

broad road which follows the river, and on the 1st of July we arrived at
Bent’s fort, about 70 miles below the mouth of the Fontaine-qui-bouit.
As we emerged into view from the groves on the river, we were saluted
with a display of the national flag and repeated discharges from the guns
of the fort, where we were received by Mr. George Bent with a cordial
welcome and a friendly hospitality, in the enjoyment of which we spent
several very agreeable days. We were now in the region where our
mountaineers were accustomed to live ; and ail the dangers and difficulties
of the road being considered past, four of them, including Carson and
Walker, remained at the fort.

On the 5th we resumed our journey down the Arkansas, travelling along
a broad wagon road, and encamped about twenty miles below the fort.
On the way we met a very large village of Sioux and Cheyenne Indians,
who, with the Arapahoes, were returning from the crossing of the Arkan-
sas, where they had been to meet the Kioway and Camanche Indians.
A few days previous they had massacred a party of fifteen Delawares,
whom they had discovered in a fort on the Smoky Hill river, losing in the
affair several of their own people. They were desirous that we should
bear a pacific message to the Delawares on the frontier, from whom they
expected retaliation ; and we passed through them without any difficulty
or delay. Dispersed over the plain in scattered bodies of horsemen, and
family groups of women and children, with dog trains carrying baggage, and
long lines of pack horses, their appearance was picturesque and imposing.

Agreeably to your instructions, which required me to complete, as far as
practicable, our examinations of the Kansas, I left at this encampment the
Arkansas river, taking a northeasterly direction across the elevated dividing
grounds which separate that river from the waters of the Platte. On the
7th we crossed a large stream, about forty yards wide, and one or two feet
deep, flowing with a lively current on a sandy bed. The discolored and
muddy appearance of the water indicated that it proceeded from recent
rains; and we are inclined to consider this a branch of the Smoky Hill
river, although, possibly, it may be the Pawnee fork of the Arkansas. Be-
yond this stream we travelled over high and level prairies, halting at small
ponds and holes of water, and using for our fires the bois de vache , the
country being without timber. On the evening of the 8th we encamped
in a cottonwood grove on the banks of a sandy stream bed, where there
was water in holes sufficient for the camp. Here several hollows, or dry
creeks with sandy beds, met together, forming the head of a stream which
afterwards proved to be the Smoky Hill fork of the Kansas river.

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

As we travelled down the valley, water gathered rapidly in the sandy
bed from many little tributaries ; and at evening it had become a hand-
some stream, fifty to eighty feet in width, with a lively current in small
channels, the water being principally dispersed among quicksands.

Gradually enlarging, in a few days’ march it became a river eighty
yards in breadth, wooded with occasional groves of cottonwood. Our road
was generally over level uplands bordering the river, which were closely
covered with a sward of buffalo grass.

On the 10th we entered again the buffalo range, where we had found these

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animals so abundant on our outward journey, and halted for a day among
numerous herds, in order to make a provision of meat sufficient to carry
us to the frontier.

A few days afterwards, we encamped, in a pleasant evening, on a high
river prairie, the stream being less than a hundred yards broad. During
the night we had a succession of thunder storms, with heavy and continu-
1 ous rain, and towards morning the water suddenly burst over the banks,
flooding the bottoms, and becoming a large river, five or six hundred yards
in breadth. The darkness of the night and incessant rain had concealed
from the guard the rise of the water; and the river broke into the camp
so suddenly, that the baggage was instantly covered, and all our perishable
collections almost entirely ruined, and the hard labor of many months
destroyed in a moment.

On the 17th we discovered a large village of Indians encamped at the
mouth of a handsomely wooded stream on the right bank of the river.
Readily inferring, from the nature of the encampment, that they were
Pawnee Indians, and confidently expecting good treatment from a people
who receive regularly an annuity from the Government, we proceeded di-
rectly to the village, where we found assembled nearly all the Pawnee tribe,
who were now returning from the crossing of the Arkansas, where they
had met the Kioway and Camanche Indians. We were received by them
with the unfriendly rudeness and characteristic insolence which they never
fail to display whenever they find an occasion for doing so with impunity.
The little that remained of our goods was distributed among them, but
proved entirely insufficient to satisfy their greedy rapacity; and, after some
delay, and considerable difficulty, we succeeded in extricating ourselves
from the village, and encamped on the river about fifteen miles below.*

The country through which we had been travelling since leaving the
Arkansas river, for a distance of 260 miles, presented to the eye only a
succession of far-stretching green prairies, covered with the unbroken ver-
dure of the buffalo grass, and sparingly wooded along the streams with,
straggling trees and occasional groves of cottonwood; but here the country
began perceptibly to change its character, becoming a more fertile, wooded,
and beautiful region, covered with a profusion of grasses, and watered with
innumerable little streams, which were wooded with oak. large elms, and
the usual varieties of timber common to the lower course of the Kansas
river.

As we advanced, the country steadily improved, gradually assimilating
itself in appearance to the northwestern part of the State of Missouri. The
beautiful sward of the buffalo grass, which is regarded as the best and
most nutritious found on the prairies, appeared now only in patches, being
replaced by a longer and coarser grass, which covered the face of the coun-
try luxuriantly. The difference in the character of the grasses became
suddenly evident in the weakened condition of our animals, which began
sensibly to fail as soon as we quitted the buffalo grass.

The river preserved a uniform breadth of eighty or a hundred yards,
with broad bottoms continuously timbered with large cottonwood treesr
among which were interspersed a few other varieties.

* In a recent report to the department, from Major Wharton, who visited the Pawnee villages
with a military force some months afterwards, it is stated that the Indians had intended to attack
our party during the night we remained at this encampment, but were prevented by the interposition
of the Pawnee Loups.

19

290

[ 174 ]

While engaged in crossing one of the numerous creeks which frequently
impeded and checked our way, sometimes obliging us to ascend them for
several miles, one of the people (Alexis Ayot) was shot through the leg by
the accidental discharge of a rifle — a mortifying and painful mischance,
to be crippled for life by an accident, after having nearly accomplished in
safety a long and eventful journey. He was a young man of remarkably
good and cheerful temper, and had been among the useful and efficient
men of the party.

After having travelled directly along its banks for two hundred and
ninety miles, we left the river, where it bore suddenly off in a northwesterly
direction, towards its junction with the Republican fork of the Kansas, dis-
tant about sixty miles; and, continuing our easterly course, in about twenty
miles we entered the wagon road from Santa Fe to Independence, and on
the last day of July encamped again at the little town of Kansas, on the
banks of the Missouri river.

During our protracted absence of fourteen months, in the course of which
we had necessarily been exposed to great varieties of weather and of climate,
no one case of sickness had ever occurred among us.

Here ended our land journey ; and the day following our arrival, we
found ourselves on board a steamboat rapidly gliding down the broad
Missouri. Our travel-worn animals had not been sold and dispersed over
the country to renewed labor, but were placed at good pasturage on the
frontier, and are now ready to do their part in the coming expedition.

On the 6th of August we arrived at St. Louis, where the party was
finally disbanded ; a great number of the men having their homes in the
neighborhood.

Andreas Fuentes also remained here, having readily found employment
for the winter, and is one of the men engaged to accompany me the present
year.

Pablo Hernandez remains in the family of Senator Benton, where he is
well taken care of, and conciliates good will by his docility, intelligence, and
amiability. General Almonte, the Mexican minister at Washington, to
whom he was of course made known, kindly offered to take charge of
him, and to carry him back to Mexico ; but the boy preferred to remain
where he was until he got an education, for which he shows equal ardor
and aptitude.

Our Chinook Indian had his wish to see the whites fully gratified. He
accompanied me to Washington, and, after remaining several months at
the Columbia college, was sent by the Indian department to Philadelphia,
where, among other things, he learned to read and write well, and speak
the English language with some fluency.

He will accompany me in a few days to the frontier of Missouri, whence
he will be sent with some one of the emigrant companies to the village at
the Dalles of the Columbia.

Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

J. C. FREMONT,

Bt. Capt. Topi Engineers.

291

C 1-4 1

TABLE OF DISTANCES

ALONG

THE RO\D TRAVELLED BY THE EXPEDITION IN 1843 AND 1844.

OUTWARD JOURNEY.

From Kansas landing to Fort Vancouver.

Date. |

1

Distance travel-
led each day.

Distance from
Kansas landing.

Localities. |

1

Date.

Distance travel-
led each day.

_ , .

Distance from j
Kansas landing, i

I..-.. *; H" ;

Localities.

1843.

Miles .

Miles.

1843.

Miles.

Miles.

t .

May 29

7 i

7

i July 29

6

807

30

22 i

29

30

24

831

31

26 |

55

31

30

861

June 1

23

78

Aug. 1 |

26

887

2

22

100

2

31

918

Medicine Bow rive

3

23 |

123

.

3

2l6

944

4

18 1

141

4

18

962

North fork.

5

19 !

160

6

19

981

6

14

174

7

30

1,011

7

8 i

182

8

29

1,040

-8

5

187

Junction of Smoky

9

26

1,066

J Sweet Water.

Hill and Repub-

10

23

1,089

•

lican forks.

11

29

1,118

10

l |

188

12

25

1,143

11

24 !

212

•

13

s 9

1,152

South Pass.

12

28

240

•

i 15

1,167

13

18

258

14

25

1,192

14

17 !

275

15

29

1,221

Green river, or R

16 !

21 |

296

Colorado.

17 j

i4 i

310

16

26

1,247 i

18 |

23 j

333

17

21 •

1,268

19

18 !

351

18

! 32

1,300 1

20

26 i

377

19

I 28

1,328 j

21

27 i

404

20

30

1,358 ;

22

26 i

430

21

26

1,384 i

23

26 j

456

22

37

1,421 |

24

34 !

490

1

23

12

1,433 |

25

26 s

516

Crossing of the Re-

24

22

1,455

*'

publican.

25

8

1,463

Beer Springs.

26

i 24

540

!

26

21

1,484

27

j 27

: 567

27

21

1,505

■

28

30

! 597

28

27

1,532

1

29

1 21

! 618

29

17

1,549

30

| 26

644

South fork.

30

19

1,568

July 1

; 32

676

31

26

1,594

2

29

705

Sept. 1

22

1,616

3

28

733

2

17

1,633

4

18

751

St. Vraiii’s fort.

3

3

1,636

Mouth of Bear rive

26

4

755

4

6

1,642

I

27

26

781

5

27

1,669

28

20

801

[

6

25

! L694

1

1

Table of distances — Continued.

If

a *

o .5

a

■

'33 *
>

CS

1?

Date.

<o

8JS

C as

Localities.

Date.

if

8-2
C as

Localities..

e5 ®

« g

3 ®

03 03

.2^3

s ^

.2 g

1843.

Miles.

Miles.

1843.

Miles.

Miles.

Sept. 8

20

1,714

Shore of the Salt

Oct. 9

24

2,254

lake.

10

2

2,256

Fort Boise.

9

8

1,722

Island in the Salt i

11

20

2,276

lake.

12

j 27

2,303

10

28

1,750

13

' 20

2,323

12

13

1,763

14

1 22

2,345

13

27

1,790

15

; 26

2,371

14

24

1,814

16

1 13

j 2.384

15

19

1,833

17

| 21

2,405

16

26

1,859

18

; 20

| 2,425

17

24

1,883

19

21

2,446

18

22

23

12

1,906

1,9 re;

Fort Hall.

20
21 |

12

5

2,458

2,463

24

10

1,928

American falls on

22

16

2,479

Lewis’s fork.

24 |

18

2,497

•

25

13

1,941

25 j

18

2,515

26

17

1,958

26

3

2,518

Fort Nez Perce, at

27

20

1,978 ;

the mouth ofWa-

28

25

2,003 i

'

lahwalah river.

29

24

2,027 i

28 |

19

2,537

30

26

2,053 !

■29 I

19

2,556

•

Oct. 1

16

2,069 ,

30

21

2,577

2

29

2,098 :

31 !

26

2,603

3

16

2,114

Nov. 1 |

23

2,626

.

4

19

2,133 j

2 1

19

2,645

5

26

2,159

' 3

17

2,662

6

22

2,181 !

4 1

14

2,676

Dalles.

7

23

2,204

6 & 7 :

90

2,766

Fort Vancouver.

8

26

2,230 !

HOMEWARD JOURNEY.

FromHhe Dalles to the Missouri river.

Date.

Distance travel-
led each day.

Distance from
the Dalles.

Localities.

i Date.

Distance travel-
led each day.

Distance from
the Dalles.

Localities.

1843.

Miles.

Miles.

1843.

Miles.

Miles.

Nov. 25

12

12

Dec. 4

9

147

26

22

34

5

11

158

27

13

47

6

19

177

28

21

68

7

25

202

29

21

89

8

19

221

30

10 ;

99

9

14

235

"Dec. 1

6

105

10

15

250

Tlamath lake.

2

11

116

12

5

255

3

22

138

13

12

267

293

[ 174 }

Table of distances — Continued.

Date.

Distance travel-
led each day.

Distance from
J the Dalles.

Localities.

Date.

Distance travel-
led each day.

Distance from
the Dalles.

Localities.

:

1843.

Miles.

Miles.

1844.

f files.

Milts.

Dec. 14

21

288

Feb. 20

3

1,001

Summit of the Sierra

15

21

309

Nevada.

16

9

318

Summer lake.

21

5

1,006

17

6

324

22

3

1,009

18

20

344

23

5

1,014

19

21

365

24

12

1,026

20

26

39 L

Lake Abevt.

25

14

1,040

21

6

397

26

14

1,054

22

29

426

27

1

1,055

23

7

433

28

10

1,065

24

13

446

Christmas lake.

Mar. 1

6

1,071

25

14

460

2 & 3

10

i,oa^

26

21

481

4

7

l,0oo

27

24

505

5

20

1,108

28

16

521

6

34

1,142

Nueva Helvetia.

29

15

536

24

16

1,158

30

17

553

25

18

1,176

31

18

571

26

21

1,197

27

42

1,239

1844.

28

17

1,256

Jan. 1

20

591

j

29

8

1,264

2

25

616

1

April 1

10

1,274

3

7

623

3

22

1,296

4

7

630

4

18

1,314

5

. 2

632

5

37

1,351

6

15

647

Great Boiling spring.

6

15

1,366

9

11

658

7

50

1,416

10

10

668

~ . 1

8

6

1,422

11

10

678

*•

9

31

1,453

12

6

684

Pyramid lake.

10

40

1,493

13

12

696

11

24

1,517

14

9

705

12

15

1,532

15

12

717

'v.*.

13

27

1,559 j

Pass in the Sierra

16

18

735

• I

‘

•

1 I

Nevada.

17

22

757

14

32

1,591

18

8

765

15

32

1,623

19

18

783

17

39

1,662

20

5

788

l’; ;

18

3

1,665

21

24

812

19

15

1,680

22

14

826

20

33

1,713

Spanish trail at Mo

23

25

851

hahve river.

24

20

871

22

20

1,733

25

25

896

23

33

1,766

27

12

908

♦

24

8

1,774

28

12

920

25

25

1,799

29

7

927

27

43

1,842

30

11

938

28

12

1,854

31

26

964

29

7

1,861

Feb. 2

16

980

30

24

1,885

3

7

987

May 1

15

1,900

4

3

990

2

12

1,912

7

4

994

•

3

18

1,930

8

1

995

,

4

57

1,987

10

3

998

6

18

2,005

Rio Virgeru

7-1

tc.

4.

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

15

16

17

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

1

2

3

5

6

7

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

294

Table of distances — Continued.

Distance from j
the Dalles.

|Localities.

Date.

Distance travel-
led each day.

Distance from
the Dalles.

Localities.

Miles.

1844.

Miles.

Miles.

2,015

June 21

19

2,898

2,033

22

15

2,913

Bayou Salade, (South

2,034

Park.)

2,058

23

36

2,949

2,070

24

21

2,970

2,084

V egas de Santa Clara.

25

21

2,991

2,099

26

11

3,002

2,120

27

10

3,012

2,137

28

21

3,033

2,154

29

30

3,063

Pueblo, on the Ar-

2,181

kansas.

2,203

30

37

i 3,100

2,^

July 1

33

1 3,133

Bent’s fort.

2,257

5

20

3,153

2,269

Sevier river.

6

31

! 3,184

2,292

*

31

3,215

2,324

8

28

j 3,243

Head water of Smoky

2,333

Utah lake.

Hill fork of the

2,355

Kansas.

2,380

9

27

3,270

2,405

10

28

3,298

2,436

12

24

3,322

2,452

13

30

3,352

2,468

15

10'

3,362

2,476

16

23

3,385

2,497

Uintah fort.

17

32

3,417

2,523

18

24 '

3,441

2,538

19

1 29

3,470

2,568

Green river, (Brown’s

20

L 29

3,499

hole. )

21

23

3,522

2,604

22

17

3,539

2,634

23

26

3,565

2,664

24

22

3,587

2,690

25

19

3,606

2,716

♦

26

24

3,630

2,739

27

18

3,648

2,764

New Park.

28

22

3,670

2,790

29

12

3,682

2,823

Old Park.

30

12

3,694

2,836

31

8

3,702

Kansas landing.

2,852 |

Aug. 1

7

3,709

Missouri river.

2,879 |

1

♦ —

295

[ 174 ]

APPENDIX.

A.

• GEOLOGICAL FORMATIONS.

Nature of the geological formations occupying the portion of Oregon
and North California included in a geographical survey under the
direction of Captain Fremont: hy James Hall, palaeontologist to the
State of New York.

The main geographical features of every country, as well as its soils and
vegetable productions, depend upon the nature of its geological formations.
So universally true is this, that a suite of the rocks prevailing in any coun-
try, with their mineral and fossil contents, will convey more absolute in-
formation regarding the agricultural and other capabilities of that country,
than could be given by a volume written without reference to these sub-
jects. Indeed, no survey of any unknown region should be made without
at the same time preserving collections of the prevailing rocks, minerals,
and fossils. The attention given to this subject in the foregoing report ren-
ders the information of the highest value, and perfectly reliable in reference
to opinions or calculations regarding the resources of the country.

The specimens examined present a great variety of aspect and composi-
tion; but calcareous rocks prevail over a large portion of the country trav-
ersed between longitude 98° and the mouth of the Columbia river, or 122°
west from Greenwich. That portion of the route embraced in this notice
varies in latitude through seven degrees, viz: 38° to 45° north; and speci-
mens are presented in nearly every half degree of latitude. Such a collec-
tion enables us to forma very satisfactory conclusion regarding this portion
of the country, 7° in width and 24° in length ; having an extent east and
west equal to the distance between the Atlantic «oast of New York and
the Mississippi river, and lying in the temperate latitudes, which extend
from Washington city to the northern limit of the State of New York.

Although we are far from being able to fix the minute or detailed geol-
ogy, this collection presents us with sufficient materials to form some prob-
able conclusions regarding the whole region from this side of the Rocky
mountains westward to the mouth of the Columbia river. But it is not
within my province to dwell upon the advantages opened to us in the vast
field which the researches of Captain Fremont have made known. I there-
fore proceed to a description of the specimens as they occur, taking them in
the order from east to west. This, in connexion with the section of alti-
tudes on which the rocks are marked, will show the comparative extent of
different formations.

Longitude 96i°, latitude 38^°; Otter creek. — The single specimen from
this locality is a yellowish, impure limestone, apparently containing organic
remains, whose structure is obliterated by crystallization. From its posi-

%

296

[ 174 ]

tion relatively to the formations farther east, I am inclined to refer it to the
cretaceous formation.

Longitude 98°, latitude 39°; Smoky Hill river. — The specimens from this
locality are numbered 26, 29, 31, 33, and S8. They all bear a similar char-
acter, and the fossils are alike in each. The rock is an impure limestone,
pretty compact, varying in color from dull yellowish to ashy brown, and
abounding in shells of a species of Inoceramus. (See description.)

This rock probably belongs to the cretaceous formation ; the lower part
of which has been indicated by Dr. Morton as extending into Louisiana,
Arkansas, and Missouri.

Although the specimens from this locality bear a more close resemblance
lo the upper part of the formation, I do not feel justified in referring them
to any other period. This formation evidently underlies large tracts of
country, and extends far towards the base of the Rocky mountains.

Longitude 105°, latitude 39°. — The specimens from this locality area
somewhat porous, light-colored limestone, tough and fine grained. One
or two fragments of fossils from this locality still indicate the cretaceous
period; but the absence of any perfect specimens must deter a positive
opinion upon the precise age of the formation. One specimen, however,
from its form, markings, and fibrous structure, I have referred to the genus
inoceramus.

It is evident, from the facts presented, that little of important geological
change is observed in travelling over this distance of 7 degrees of longi-
tude. Rut at what depths beneath the surface the country is underlaid by
this formation, I have no data for deciding. Its importance, however, must
not be overlooked. A calcareous formation of this extent is of the greatest
advantage to a country; and the economical facilities hence afforded in
agriculture, and the uses of civilized life, cannot be overstated.

The whole formation of this region is probably, with some variations,
an extension of that which prevails through Louisiana, Arkansas, and
Missouri.

The strata at the locality last mentioned are represented as being verti-
cal, standing against the eastern slope of the Rocky mountain*, immediately
below Pike’s Peak.

Longitude 106°, latitude 41°. — At this point, although only one degree
west of the last-named specimens, we find a total change in the geology
of the region. The specimens are of a red feldspathic granite, showing a
tendency to decomposition; and, from the information accompanying tile
same, this rock overlies a mass of similar granite, in more advanced stages
of decomposition. The specimens present nothing peculiar in their ap-
pearance; and the only apparent difference between these and the ordinary
red feldspathic granites of more eastern localities, is their finer grain and
dingy color.

Longitude 107°, latitude 41 %°. — The specimens from this locality are of
crystalline feldspathic granite, of a flesh-red color, apparently not acted on
by the weather, and presenting the common appearance of this kind of /
granite in other localities.

No. 95, “ above the third bed of coal, in the lower hill, North fork of the
Platte river,” is a siliceous clay slate, having a saline taste.

Longitude 110°, latitude 41p; Nos. 99 and 104. — No. 99 is a fine-
grained, soft, argillaceous limestone, of a light ash color, evidently a modern
formation ; but, from the absence of fossils, it would be unsatisfactory to

297

[ 174 ]

assign it any place in the scale of formations. The other specimen, No.
104, is a compact serpentine, having the aspect of a greenstone trap ; and,
from the account given, is probably interstratified with the limestone. The
limestone is more friable and chalky than any specimen previously noticed.

Longitude 1 10^°, latitude 41|°. — The specimens from this locality are
very peculiar and remarkable. The first is a friable or pulverulent green
calcareous sand, unctuous to the touch, but remaining unaltered on exposure
to the atmosphere. Its character is very similar to the green sands of New
Jersey ; but it is of a brighter color, and less charged with iron. The
second specimen is of similar composition, but quite solid — being, in fact, a
green limestone. The singularity of the specimen, and that which first
attracted my attention, was the efflorescence of a salt upon its surface,
which appears to be, in part, chloride of sodium. Supposing this to be ac-
cidental, I broke a specimen, and, after a day or two, a similar efflorescence
appeared from the fresh fracture ; leaving no doubt but the salts arise from
decomposition of substances within the stone itself.

Longitude 111°, latitude 41^°; Muddy river . — These specimens are of a
yellowish-gray oolitic limestone, containing turbo, cerithium, &c. The
rock is a perfect oolite ; and, both in color and texture, can scarcely be dis-
tinguished from specimens of the Bath oolite. One of the specimens is
quite crystalline, and the oolitic structure somewhat obscure. In this in-
stance, the few fossils observed seem hardly sufficient to draw a decisive
conclusion regarding the age of the formation ; but, when taken in connex-
ion with the oolitic structure of the mass, its correspondence with the Eng-
lish oolites, and the modern aspect of the whole, there remains less doubt
of the propriety of referring it to the oolitic period. A further collection
I from this interesting locality would doubtless develop a series of fossils,
which would forever settle the question of the relative age .of the formation.

A few miles up this stream, Captain Fremont has collected a beautiful
series of specimens of fossil ferns. The rock is an indurated clay, wholly
destitute of carbonate of lime, and would be termed a u fire clay.” These
are probably, geologically as well as geographically, higher than the oolite
| specimens, as the rocks at this place were observed to dip in the direction
of N. 65° W. at an angle of 20 degrees. This would show, conclusively,
that the vegetable remains occupy a higher position than the oolite. As-
I sociated with these vegetable remains, were found several beds of coal, dif-
fering in thickness. The section of strata at this place is as follows :

tit. in.

Sandstone - - - - - - - -10

Coal - - - - - - 1 $

Coal - - - - - - - 1 3

Indurated clay, with vegetable remains - - - - 20 0

Clay - - - - - - - - 50

Coal --------

Clay - - - - - - - 50

Coal --------

Clay * - - - - - - - 5 0

Coal -------

The stratum containing the fossil ferns is about 20 feet thick ; and above*
it are two beds of coal, each about 15 inches. These are succeeded by a

'298

[ 174 ]

bed of sandstone. Below the bed containing the ferns, there are three dis-
tinct beds of coal, each separated by about 5 feet of clay. Before examin-
ing the oolitic specimens just mentioned, I compared these fossil ferns with
a large collection from the coal measures of Pennsylvania and Ohio, and it
was quite evident that this formation could not be of the same age. There
are several specimens which I can only refer to the Glossopteris Phillipsii,
(see description,) an oolitic fossil ; and this alone, with the general charac-
ter of the other species, and the absence of the large stems so common in
the coal period, had led me to refer them to the ooTitic period. 1 conceive,
however, that we have scarcely sufficient evidence to justify this reference;
and though among the fossil shells there are none decidedly typical of the
oolite, yet neither are they so of any other formation; and the lithological
character of the mass is not reliable evidence. Still, viewed in whatever
light we please, these fossil ferns must, I conceive, be regarded as mostly
of new species, and in this respect form a very important addition to the
flora of the more modern geological periods.

In passing from this locality westward to the Bear river, Captain Fremont
crossed a high mountain chain, which is the dividing ridge between the
waters of Muddy river flowing eastward, and those of Muddy cfreek flow-
ing into Bear river on the west. The gap where the ridge was crossed is
stated to be Ss200 feet above the level of the sea. In this ridge, 115 miles
to the southward of the locality of the fossils last mentioned, were collected
the specimens next to be named. These were obtained near the summit
of the ridge, and probably higher than the point where Captain Fremont’s
party crossed.

The collection from this locality (longitude 1 11°, latitude 40°) consists
of several specimens of an argillaceous, highly bituminous, and somewhat
slaty limestone, .loaded with fossils. It is very brittle, and easily shivered
into small fragments by a blow of the hammer. Its natural color is a light
sepia, but it bleaches on exposure to the atmosphere. In structure, it is not
unlike some of the limestones of the lias or oolite formations. The fossils
are chiefly one species of Cerithium and one of Mya ; and besides these,
another species of Cerithium and a Nucula can be identified. So far as I
am able to ascertain, these fossils are undescribed, and will therefore be
regarded as new species.

It may be considered premature to decide upon the geological position of
this mass. It may belong to the same period, though far higher in the
series than those in the same longitude, which have just been described.
In the locality of the fossil plants, the strata dip W. by N. ; but, from the
structure of the country, it is evident that there is a change in the direction
of the dip before reaching the high ridge from which the specimens under
consideration were taken. Further examination, I have no doubt, will set
this question at rest.

I may here notice the interesting fact of the wide extent of these forma-
tions, showing the existence, in this longitude, of these calcareous beds, of
a nature precisely like those of the modern formations of western Europe.

A few miles south of the locality of these fossils, Captain Fremont de-
scribes the occurrence of an immense stratum of fossil salt ; and the same
ridge is represented as bounding the Great Salt lake. There would there-
fore seem no doubt that the salt in question is associated with the strata of
this period, and probably coeval with the same.

I may remark, in the same connexion, that the surfaces of the specimens

209

[ m ]

containing the fossil ferns also effloresce a salt, which is apparently chlo'
ride of sodium. This fact seems to indicate the presence of fossil salt at
this distance north of the known locality, and is a circumstance which we
naturally appropriate as part of the evidence of identity in the age of the
formations.

This region is unquestionably one of the highest interest, both as regards
its economical resources, and equally so in the contributions which it will
yield to geological science. In the specimens from the vegetable locality,

I have been able to indicate seven or eight species of fossil ferns, most of
which are new. Further researches will doubtless greatly multiply this
number. Besides these, as new species probably peculiar to our continent,
they have a higher interest, inasmuch as they show to us the wide extent
and the nature of the vegetation of this modern coal period. In the broad
fields of the west, we shall have an opportunity of tracing it over large and
unbroken areas, and many highly interesting results may follow its com-
parison with the vegetation of the true carboniferous period.

Again : since these deposites have evidently been made over large tracts
of country, it is not unreasonable to suppose that the quantity of materials
accumulated will be very great, and that we may expect to find profitable
coal beds in the rocks of this age. This subject, besides being of high
interest to science, is of some prospective economical importance, though
perhaps too remote to dwell upon, while the country remains so little ex-
plored as at present.

Longitude 112°, latitude 42°. — The specimen No. 72 is a grayish-blue
limestone, efflorescing a salt upon- the surface, “from the Hot Salt Springs
of September 13, 1843.” No. 108 is a siliceous limestone of a brownish-
gray color ; where exposed, the surface becomes porous, from the solution
and removal of the lime, while the siliceous particles remain. From the
general lithological characters of the specimen, it is probably a modern
rock, but its precise age cannot be decided.

Longitude 1 12°, latitude 41i°. — The single specimen from this locality
is, in its present state, “ granular quartz. ” It is, however, very evidently,
an altered sedimentary rock, with the lines of deposition quite distinctly
preserved. This rock probably comes out from under the siliceous lime-
stone last described, both having been altered by modern igneous action.
The character of the specimens from the next locality — three-quarters of
a degree farther west — may perhaps throw some light upon the present
condition of those last named.

Longitude 1121°, latitude 42|° ; at the American Falls of Snake river. —
The collection from this point presents the following, in a descending order.
These specimens are numbered 94, 96, 97, 101, 102, 106, and 107 :

1. A botryoidal or concretionary lava, No. 94.

2. Obsidian, No. 102.

3. Vitrified sandstone, No. 106.

4. A whitish ash-colored chalk or limestone, No. 107.

5. A light ashy volcanic sand, No. 97.

6. Brown sand, volcanic. (?)

These are all apparently volcanic products, with, probably, the excep-
tion of Nos. 106 and 107, which may be sedimentary products; the first
altered by heat. The two lower deposites are evidently volcanic sand or
“ashes;”* the upper of these, or No. 5, has all the characters of pulverized
pumice stone, and is doubtless of similar origin.

300

[ 174 ]

No. 107 is an impure limestone, but little harder than common chalk;
and, but for its associations, would be regarded as of similar origin.*

No. 106 is apparently a vitrified sandstone, the grains all rounded, and
the surfaces of the mass highly polished.

No. 102 is a beautiful black obsidian.

No. 94 is a mammillary or botryoidal lava ; the concretions having a ra- j
diated structure, the mass is easily frangible, and readily separates into small
angular fragments.

The whole of this series, with the exception of No. 107, may be regard-
ed as of volcanic origin ; for the apparently vitrified sandstone may be, in
its composition, not very distinct from trap or basalt, though it is more vit-
reous, and its fracture fresher and brighter.

Longitude 1 14^°, latitude 42^°. — The specimens marked No. 3 are of
light-colored tufaceous limestone and siliceous limestone. The speci-
mens appear as if from some regular formation, broken up and thinly coat-
ed by calcareous matter from springs. From the fact observed by Captain
Fremont, that these fragments enter largely into the composition of the soil,
we may presume that the same is highly calcareous.

The specimen No. 12, from the same locality, ^consists mainly of small
fragments of the crust, claws, &c., of some crustacean — probably of fresh-
water origin. There are also some vertebrae and ribs of fishes. The
whole is so unchanged, and of such recent appearance, as to induce a belief
that the deposite is of fresh-water origin, and due to the desiccation of some I
lake or stream. Should such a deposite be extensive, its prospective value j
to an agricultural community will be an important consideration. But, as
before remarked, there is evidently a preponderance of calcareous matter
throughout the whole extent of country traversed.

Longitude 115°, latitude 43°. — The specimens from this locality are num- j
bered 16, 21, and 39. Nos. 16 and 21 are angular fragments of impure
limestone of some recent geological period, and No. 39 consists of an ag-
gregation of pebbles and gravel. The pebbles are of black siliceous slate,
which are represented as forming a conglomerate with the limestone frag-
ments just mentioned. The limestone specimens are probably broken frag- I
ments from some stratum in situ in the same vicinity, and the conglom-
erate is one of very recent formation. The slate pebbles are from a rock
of much older date, and worn very round and smooth, while the limestone
bears little evidence of attrition.

The gray siliceous limestone specimens contain a species of Turritella,
and a small bivalve shell. (See descriptions and figures.)

Longitude 1 15£°, latitude 43^°. — The two specimens from this locality are
of volcanic origin. No. 46 is a reddish compact trap or lava, with small
nodules or cavities filled with analcime and stilbite. No. 52 is a coarse
and porous trap, or ancient lava.

Longitude 1 16°, latitude 43£°. — The single specimen from this place is

* Since this was written, a specimen of No. 107 has been submitted to the examination of Pro-
fessor Bailey, who finds it highly charged with “calcareous polythalamia” in excellent preserva-
tion. He remarks, that “ the forms are, many of them, such as are common in chalk and cretaceous
marls; but as these forms are still living in our present oceans, their presence does not afford con-
clusive evidence as to the age of the deposite in which they occur. I have, however, invariably
found that in our tertiary deposites, the chalk polythalamia are accompanied by large species of
genera peculiar to the tertiary. Now, as these are entirely wanting in the specimen from Captain
Fremont, the evidence, as far as it goes , is in favor of the view that the specimen came from a
cretaceous formation.”

301

[ 174 ]

a white feldspathic granite, with a small proportion of quartz, and black
mica in small scales. The specimen contains a single garnet. The struc-
ture is somewhat slaty, and from appearances it is rapidly destructible
from atmospheric agency.

Longitude 117°, latitude 44£°. — These specimens from Brule river are
numbered 4, 19, 41, and 48.

No. 4 is a slaty limestone, partially altered, probably from the proximity
of igneous rocks.

No. 41 is of similar character, very thinly laminated, and of a dark
color.

No. 19 is of similar character, but more altered, and partially crystalline.
The lines of deposition are, however, preserved.

No.. 48 has the appearance of a compact gray feldspathic lava ; but there
are some apparent lines of deposition still visible, which incline me to the
opinion that it is an altered sedimentary rock.

Longitude 117^°, latitude 45°. — The specimen is a compact, dark-colored
basalt, showing a tendency to desquamate upon the exposed surfaces.
This rock forms the mountains of Brule river.

Longitude 117^°, latitude 455°. — The specimen No. 110 is a fine-grained
basalt or trap, with a few small cells filled with analcime. This is of the
rock forming the Blue mountain.

Longitude 1 IS0, latitude 45°. — The single specimen (No. 43) from this
locality is apparently an altered siliceous slate. It is marked by what ap-
pear to be lines of deposition, the thin laminae being separated by layers of
mica.

Longitude 119°, latitude 3S£°. — The specimens Nos. 14,23, 45, and 51,
are all from this locality.

No. 14 appears to be a decomposed feldspar, having a slightly porous
structure ; it is very light, and adheres strongly to the tongue.

No. 23. A friable, argillaceous sandstone, somewhat porous upon the ex-
posed surfaces.

No. 45. A compact lava of a sienitic structure, containing obsidian.
This specimen appears much like some of the porous portions of trap dikes
which cut through the sienitic rocks of New England.

No. 51. Feldspar, with a little black mica. The specimen is probably
from a granite rock, though its structure is that of compact feldspar.

Longitude 120°, latitude 45^°. — The single specimen (No. 20) from this
locality is a compact, fine-grained trap, or basalt, with a few round cavities
of the size of peas.

Longitude 120£°, latitude 38£°. — The specimens are numbered 91, 109,
and 117.

No. 91 has the appearance of a porous trap, or basalt, though possibly
the production of a modern volcano. It is thickly spotted with crystals of
analcime, some apparently segregated from the mass, and others filling ve-
sicular cavities.

No. 1 17 is a compact basalt, the specimen exhibiting the character of the
basalt of the Hudson and Connecticut river valleys.

No. 109 is a fine-grained granite, consisting of white quartz and feldspar,
with black mica. Captain Fremont remarks that this rock forms the east-
ern part of the main California mountain. From its granular and rather
loose structure, it is to be inferred that it would undergo rapid decomposi-
tion in a climate like ours.

302

[ 174 ]

Longitude 121°, latitude 44£°. — The specimens from this locality are
numbered 53, 54, 55,56, 57, 58, 59, 60, and 61. These are characteristic
specimens of the strata composing a bluff 700 feet high, and are numbered
in the descending order.

The specimens 59, 60, and 61, are three specimens of what appear to be
very fine clay, perfectly free from carbonate of lime, and nearly as white as
ordinary chalk. These three specimens, which are understood to be from
three distinct strata, vary but slightly in their characters — No. 61 being of
the lightest color.

No. 58 is a specimen of grayish volcanic breccia, the larger portion con-
sisting of volcanic sand or ashes.

Nos. 55, 56, and 57, are of the same character, being, however, nearly
free from fragments or pebbles, and composed of light volcanic sand, or
scoria, with an apparently large admixture of clay from the strata below.
The whole is not acted on by acids, and, so far as can be judged, is of
volcanic origin.

No. 58 is of similar character to the preceding three specimens, but con-
tains more fragments, and has a generally coarser aspect.*

Longitude 121°, latitude 45°. — These specimens are numbered 7, 35,40,
47, and 49.

No. 7 is a siliceous sinter, coated externally with hydrate of iron.

* The specimens Nos. 59, 60, and 61, which are from three different but contiguous strata,
have since been examined by Professor J. W. Bailey, of West Point, who finds them charged
with fluviatile infusoria of remarkable forms.

Below are descriptions (accompanied by a plate) of some of the most interesting forms, which
were sketched by, him with a camera-lucida attached to his microscope. It has not been considered
necessary to distinguish*, particularly, to which of the strata the individuals figured belong, as no
species occur in one, which are not present in the others. They are evidently deposites of the
same epoch, and differ very slightly in their characters.

Figs. 1, 2, and 3. Side views of Eunotia librile of Ehrenberg. — The species is figured and
described by Ehrenberg, who received it from Real del Monte, Mexico. It resembles Eunotia
Westermanniy (Ehr.,) but differs in its granulations. The three figures are from individuals of
different age.

Figs. 4 and 5. Eunotia gibba, (Ehr.) — Identical with a common fresh-water species now living
at West Point.

Fig. 6. Pinnularia pachyptera ? (Ehr.) — Ehrenberg's figure of P. pachyptera from Labrador
is very similar to the Oregon species here represented.

Figs. 7, 8, and 9. Cocconema cymbi forme? (Ehr.) — These are probably merely varieties of
the same species. Fig. 8 is rather larger than C. cymbiforme usually grows at West Point.

Fig. 10. Gomphonema clavatum? (Ehr.) — Front view.

Fig. 11. Gomphonema clavatum? (Ehr.) — Side view-

Fig. 12. Gomphonema minutissimum, (Ehr.) — A cosmopolite species.

Fig. 13. Gallionella ( new species, a.) — This is evidently identical with a large species which
I have described and figured as occurring at Dana’s locality. (See Silliman’s Journal for April,
1845.)

Figs. 14 and 15, Gallionella, new species? 6 (a — edge view; b — side view.) — This species
presents remarkably compressed frustules, which are marked on their circular bases with radiant
lines. It is particularly abundant in Nos. 59 and 61.

Fig. 16. Gallionella distans ? — This very minute species constitutes the chief mass of No. 60,
but also abounds in Nos. 59 and 61.

Figs. 17 and 18. Cocconeis prxtexta, (Ehr.) — Appears to agree with a species from Mexico
figured by Ehrenberg.

Fig. 19. Fragillaria .

Fig. 20. Surirella . — A fragment only. I have seen several fragments of beautiful

Surirellae, but have not yet found a perfect specimen to figure.

Fig. 21. Fragillaria rhabdosoma? — Fragment.

Figs. 22 and 23. Spicu/ae of fresh-water sponges.— ^Spongilla.

Fig. 24. Four-sided crystal of ?

Fig. 25. Scale — 10-100ths of millimetre magnified equally with the drawings.

PL V

303 [ 174 ]

No. 35. A reddish, rather compact lava. The color is owing to the
presence of iron, which hastens its decomposition on exposure.

No. 40. A reddish brecciated feldspathic lava, embracing fragments of
light-colored siliceous sandstone or lava.

No. 47. Compact trap, or basalt, with a few rounded cavities. This
specimen is precisely like No. 20, longitude 120°; and, from the descrip-
tion given, appears to be a prevailing rock along the valley of the Colum-
bia river.

No. 49. An imperfect striped agate, with the centre of siliceous sinter.
This, with Nos. 7 and 40, is doubtless associated with the basalt, No. 47,
which is the prevailing rock.

Longitude 122°, latitude 45^°; Cascades of the Columbia river. — From
this place are the specimens numbered 9, 10, 13, 17, 18, 22, 24, 25, 27, 30,
36, 37, 3S, and 44.

Of these specimens, Nos. 13 and 24 are indurated clay, with impres-
sions of leaves of dicotyledonous plants.

No. 1 7 is a fine argillaceous sandstone, with stems and leaves, which still
retain their fibrous structure.

No. 30 is a specimen of dicotyledonous wood, partially replaced by stony
matter, and a portion still retaining the fibrous structure and consistency
of partially carbonized wood.

Nos. 10, 25, 27, and 38, are specimens of coal from the same locality.
(For further information of these, see analysis of specimens appended.)

No. 22. Carbonaceous earth, with pebbles, evidently a part of the forma-
tion to which the previous specimens are referred.

No. 18 is a compact trap, apparently having a stratified structure.

No. 36. A porous basaltic lava, with crystals of analcime, &c.

No. 37. Two specimens — one a porous or rather scoriaceous lava of a
reddish color; and the other a compact gray lava, with a few small cavities.

No. 44. A brown scoriaceous lava.

No. 44 a. A small specimen of compact lava.

Miscellaneous specimens.

No. 62. A coral in soft limestone ; the structure too much obliterated to
decide its character. (From the dividing ridge between Bear creek and
Bear river, at a point 8,200 feet above tide water.)

No. 71. Calcareous tufa, containing the remains of grasses, twigs, moss,
&c.

No. 81. Calcareous tufa stained with iron.

No. 98. Ferruginous calcareous tufa, containing remains of twigs, &c.

These three last-named specimens are evidently the calcareous deposites
from springs holding carbonate of lime in solution.

[ ‘74 ]

304

I

B.

ORGANIC REMAINS.

Descriptions of organic remains collected by Captain J. C. Fremont , in

the geographical survey of Oregon and North California : by James

Hall, palaeontologist to the State of New York.

Plates I and II.

Fossil ferns, etc.

The specimens here described are all from one locality, in longitude 1110,
latitude 4H0. They occur in a light-gray indurated clay, which isentirely
free from calcareous matter, very brittle, and having a very imperfect slaty
structure. Nearly all the species differ from any described in Brongniart’s
uHist. Feg. Foss.” in Goppert’s uSy sterna Filicum Fossiliitm,” or in Phil-
lips’s “ Geology of Yorkshire .”

1. Sphenopteris Fremonti. PI. 2, figs. 3, 3 a. (No. 118 of collection.)
Compare sphenopteris crenulata ; Brong. Hist. Veg. Foss. i,p. 187, t. 56, f. 3.

Description. — Frond bipinnate, (or tripinnate ?) rachis moderately strong,
striated ; pinnae oblique to the rachis, rigid, moderately approximate, alter-
nate ; pinnules subovate, somewhat decurrent at the base, about three or
four lobed ; fructification very distinct in round dots (capsules) of carbona-
ceous matter upon the margins of the pinnules. 3 a, a portion twice mag- j
nified.

I have named this beautiful and unique species in honor of Captain Fre-
mont, and as a testimony of the benefits that science has derived from his
valuable explorations on the west of the Rocky mountains.

2. Sphenopteris triloba. PI. 1, fig. 8. (Nos. 65, 79, and 80, of collec-
tion.)

Description. — Frond bipinnate, or tripinnate; rachis slender, flexuous;
pinnae long, flexuous, distant, opposite, perpendicular to the rachis; pin-
nules oblong, sub-trilobate, opposite or alternate, narrow at base, distant,
perpendicular.

The distant, long, and flexuous pinna3, with the small trilobate pinnules,
distinguish this species. In general features, it approaches somewhat the
sphenopteris rigida , (Brong.,) but differs essentially in the smaller pinnules,
which are usually nearly opposite, and in never being more than sub-trilo-
bate, while in S. rigida they are often deeply 5 -lobed.

3. Sphenopteris (?) paucifolia PI. 2, figs. 1, l a, 1 b, 1 c, I d. (No.
118 of collection.)

Description. — Frond tripinnate ; rachis rather slender, with long, lateral,
straight branches, which are slightly oblique ; pinnae slender, nearly at right
angles, alternate and opposite ; pinnules minute, oval-ovate, somewhat dis-
tant, opposite or alternate, expanded or attenuate at base, sometimes deeply
bilobed or digitate; midrib not apparent.

This species was evidently a beautiful fern of large size, with slender,
sparse foliage, giving it a peculiarly delicate appearance. In some of its
varieties, (as figure 1 by) it resembles Sphenopteris digitata; Phillips’s Geol. .

a

FO S SIL PERNS PL J

COLLECT! ON OF THE GEOGRAPHICAL SURVEY OF

OREGON AND NORTH CALIFORNIA

T i th 7m/ T Wphrr dc Cn Balt1

305

[ m 2

Yorkshire, p. 147, pi. 8, figs. 6 and 7 ; Sphen. Williamsoni , Brong. Hist.
Veg. Foss., i, p. 177, t. 49, figs. 6, 7, and 8. The fossil under consideration,
however, is quite a different species. In the figure 1 a , the branches and
pinnules are more lax ; figure 1 d is a magnified portion.

In its general aspect, this fossil resembles the genus PacJiypteris, to
which I had been inclined to refer it, but for the digitate character of the
pinnules manifested by some specimens.

4. Sphenopteris (?) trifoltata, PL 2, figs. 2, 2 a. (No. S6 of collection.)

Description. — Frond bipinnate ; pinnae trifoliate ; pinnules elliptic, nar-
rowing at the base; rachis slender, fiexuous; fructification terminal, raceme-
like, from the pinnules gradually becoming single and fructiferous.

Fig. 2 a — part of the fructiferous portion enlarged, showing the capsules.,,
apparently immersed in the thickened pinnule. This is a most beautiful
and graceful species, approaching in some respects to the S. paucifolia just
described.

5. Glossopteris Phillipsii ? PI. 2, figs. 5, 5 a, 5 b, 5 c. (Nos. 69, 82,
and 86, of the collection.) Compare Glossopteris Phillipsii , Brong. Hist.
Veg. Foss., p. 225, t. 61 bis, fig. 2 ; Pecopteris paucifolia , Phillips’s Geol.
Yorkshire, p. 119, pi. viii, fig. 8.

Description. — “ Leaves linear-lanceolate, narrow, narrowing towards
the base and apex ; nervules oblique, dichotomous, lax, scarcely distinct,
subimmersed in the thick parenchyma.” Brong. ut sup., p. 225.

The specimen fig. 5 corresponds precisely with the figure of Brongniart,
pi. 61 bis, fig. 5, both in form of the leaf and arrangement of the nervules,
so as to leave little doubt of their identity. Figure 5 is a nearly perfect leaf
of this species; fig. 5 a is the base of another specimen, having a long foot-
stalk; fig. 5 b is the base of another leaf with fructification (?); fig. 5 c the
same magnified. This structure is so partial, that it can only with doubt be
referred to the fructification of the plant; and it is not improbable that the
same may be some parasitic body, or the eggs of an insect which have been
deposited upon the leaf. Whatever this may have been, it does not appear
to have been calcareous; and the total absence of calcareous matter in the
rock is an objection to referring the same to flustra, or any of the para-
sitic corals. The ferns are abundant in the rock at this point, and many
*of them unbroken, and evidently not far or long transported, which, had
they been, would have given support to the supposition of this body being
coral.

I have referred this species to the Glossopteris Phillipsii, as being the
only description and figure accessible to me, to which this fossil bears any
near resemblance. The geological position of that fossil is so well ascer-
tained to be the schists of the upper part of the oolitic period, that, relying
upon the evidence offered by a single species, we might regard it as a strong
argument for referring all the other specimens to the same geological period.

The two following species, or varieties of the same species, have been
referred with doubt to the genus pecopteris ; but a close examination shows
the midrib only partially distinct, and in some cases scarcely visible, while
the nervules radiate from the base. In other cases, the midrib appears well
marked at the base, but disappears in numerous ramifications before reach-
ing the apex. The character, therefore, given by Brongniart of “ nervo
medio valde notato , nec apice evanescente ,” is inapplicable to these species*
20

306

[ 174 ]

but the same feature may be observed in some figured by Brongniart him-
self.

6. Pecopteris undulata. PI. 1, figs. 1,1 a. (Nos. 83 and 118 of col-
lection.)

Description. — Frond bipinnate; rachis slender; pinnae long, slightly ob-
lique to the rachis, opposite and alternate; pinnules oblique, oval-ovate,
broad at the base, and the lower ones sometimes lobed, gradually beetling
coadunate towards the extremity of the pinnae.

The pinnules have often an apparently continuous smooth outline ; but,
on closer examination, they appear undulated, or indented upon the margin ;
and many of them are obviously so.

7. Pecopteris undulata ; var. PL 1, figs. 2, 2 a , 2 b. (No. 78 of col-
lection.)

Description . — Frond bipinnate ; rachis slender ; pinnae numerous, long,
and gradually tapering, oblique to the rachis; pinnules oval-ovate, broad
at base; midrib evanescent; nervules strong, bifurcating towards the apex;
margins lobed or indented, particularly in those near the base of the pinnae.

This species may be regarded as a variety of the last, though the pin-
nules are longer and less broad proportionally ; but the general aspect is
similar, and the habit of the plant precisely the same.

The specimen fig. 2 b can only be regarded as an extreme variety of the
same species, which is approached in some of the enlarged pinnules, as
fig. 2 a .

8. Pecopteris (?) odontopteroides. PI. 1, figs. 3 and 4. (Nos. 78 and
ilS of collection.)

Description . — Frond bipinnate ? pinnae long and slender ; secondary
pinnae sub-distant, gradually tapering, nearly perpendicular; pinnules sub-
rotund, obtuse, small, approximate, oblique, alternate, and coadunate at
base ; nervules strong, diverging from base ; no distinct midrib.

Fig. 4. A few of the pinnae near the termination of a frond.

The arrangement of the pinnules and nerves in this species strongly re-
minds one of the Odontopteris Schlotheimii> Brong. Hist. Veg. Foss., p.
256, t. 78, fig. 5 — a fossil fern of the Pennsylvania coal measures ; but this
is essentially different.

The aspect of the three last-named plants is more like that of the true
coal-measure ferns than any of the others; but the whole association, and
their fossil condition, demand that they should be referred to a very modern
period.

New genus — trichopteris.

Character . — Frond slender, flexuous, in tufts or single, branching or
pinnate ; branches long, very slender.

9. Trichopteris filamentosa. PI. 2, fig. 6. (No. 78 of collection.)
Compare Fucoides aequalis , Brong. Hist. Veg. Foss., p. 58, t. 5, figs. 3 and 4.

Description. — Frond pinnate or bipinnate; rachis long, and almost equal-
ly slender throughout; branches numerous, regular, alternate, simple,
elongated, very slender, and flexuous.

The branches are frequently folded back upon themselves, and undulated,
lying like the finest thread upon the surface of the stone. This species is
very delicate and graceful, and can scarcely be examined without the aid of

PL II

FOSSIL FERNS

'T I O N OF THE GEOGRAPHICAL SURVEY

OP. EG ON AND NORTH CALIFORNIA

307

[ 174 ]

a magnifier. This fossil is very similar to the Fucoides sequalis of Brong.,
(from the lower chalk,) except that the branches are longer and undivided.

10. Trichopteris gracilis. PL 1, fig. 5. (No. 84 of collection.)

Description. — Slender, stems numerous, flexueus, in a tuft, branched;

branches numerous, slender, oblique, stronger than in the last species*

This species is more robust than the first described, but evidently belongs
to the same genus. I had first supposed that this might be a collection of
fern stems, stripped of their foliage ; but their slender structure, long
branches, and peculiar arrangement, with the appropriate proportion of all
the parts, forbid its reference to any thing of this kind ; it is therefore placed
in a new genus.

11. Stems of ferns. PI. 1, fig. 7.

The stems of ferns, denuded of leaves, and portions only of the branches
remaining. Great numbers of these stems occur, mingled with fragments
of leaves and other portions of ferns still perfect.

12. Leaf of a dycotyledonous plant. (?) PI. 2, fig. 4. (Fr. Aug.
17, and No. 201 of collection.)

Description. — Leaf ovate-lanceolate, lobed, lobes acute, mucronate; mid-
rib straight, distinct, dichotomous; principal divisions going to the mucro-
nate points.

This leaf has the aspect of the leaf of a dicotyledonous plant, and ap-
proaches remotely only to the character of species of the genus Phlebopte -
ris of Brongniart, which are regarded as such by Phillips, and by Lindley
and Hutton. The specimen was not observed soon enough to make a sat-
isfactory comparison.

Locality , in the neighborhood of the specimens containing the preceding
fossils, and regarded by Captain Fremont as belonging to the same forma-
tion. The rock containing them is a soft or very partially indurated clay,
very unlike the hard and brittle mass containing the other species.

Plate III.

Fossil shells, &c.

Figures 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7, are from longitude 111°, latitude 40°.

Figures 11, 12, and 13, are from longitude 111°, latitude 41^°.

Figures 8, 9, and 10, are from longitude 115°, latitude 43°.

Figures 14 and 15, leaves, from longitude 122°, latitude 45|°.

13. Mya tellinoides.* PI. 3, figs. 1 and 2. Compare unio peregri-
nus; Phillips’s Geol. Yorkshire, pi. 7, fig. 12. (Nos. 8, 28, and 32, of col-
lection.)

Description . — Ovate, posterior side extended, slope, gentle, rounded at
the extremity ; anterior side regularly rounded ; surface nearly smooth, or
marked only by lines of growth ; beaks slightly wrinkled ; moderately
prominent.

The specimen fig. 1 is an entire shell ; fig. 2 is a cast of the two valves:
of a smaller specimen, retaining a small portion of the shell. Another spe-
cimen, larger than either of these, presents the inside of both valves, with
the hinge broken.

Locality in longitude 1110, latitude 40°, in slaty bituminous limestone.

* The species, where no authority is given, are regarded as new, and will be so. understood.

308

[ 174 ]

14. Nucula Impressa (?) G. PL 3, fig. 3. (No. 32 of collection.)

Description. — Sub-elliptical; posterior extremity somewhat expanded ;

surface smooth. A few of the teeth are still visible on the anterior hinge
margin, but the greater part of the hinge line is obscured.

Locality in longitude 111°, latitude 40°, in slaty bituminous limestone.

15. Cytherea parvula. PI. 3, figs. 10 and 10 a. (No. 21 of collec-
tion.) Compare Isocardia angulata? Phillips’s Geol. Yorkshire, pi. 9,
fig. 9.

Description. — Ovate trigonal; umbones elevated ; beaks incurved ; sur-
face marked by regular concentric lines of growth ; umbones and beaks
with a few stronger wrinkles. The umbones of this shell are scarcely di-
verging or involute enough to place it in the genus Isocardia , where it
would otherwise very naturally belong.

Locality in longitude 115°, latitude 43°, in gray argillaceous limestone.
Two other specimens of the same shell were noticed.

16. Pleurotomaria uniangulata. PI. 3, figs. 4 and 5. (Nos. 8 and
32 of collection. )

Description. — Turbinate ; whorls, about six, gradually enlarging ; con-
vex below, and angular above ; suture plain ; surface marked by fine lines
of growth. Aperture round-oval; shell thin, fragile.

The specimens are all imperfect, and more or less crushed ; the figures,
however, are good representations of the fossil. It is readily distinguished
by its fine lines of growth, resembling a species of Helix, and by the an-
gular character of the upper part of each whorl.

Locality in longitude 1 1 1°, latitude 40°, in a dark slaty bituminous
limestone.

17. Cerithium tenerum. PI. 3, figs. 6, 6 a. (Nos. 8, 32, and 34, of
collection.)

Description. — Elongated, subulate ; whorls, about ten, marked with
strong ridges, which are again crossed by finer lines in the direction of the
whorls. The strong vertical ridges are often obsolete on the last whorl, as
in fig. 6 a, and the spiral lines much stronger.

This shell is very strongly marked, and its external aspect is sufficient to
distinguish it : it is easily fractured, and, from the nature of the matrix, it
has been impossible to obtain a specimen exhibiting the mouth perfectly.

Locality , same as the preceding.

18. Cerithium Fremonti. PI. 3, figs. 7, 7 a. (No. 28 of collection.)

Description. — Shell terete, ovate, acute ; whorls, about nine, convex ;

summit of each one coronated ; surface marked by regular rows of pustu-
lar knobs, often with smaller ones between ; beak small, sharp ; mouth not
visible in the specimep.

This is a very beautifully marked shell, with the summit of each whorl
crowned with a row of short spines.

Locality , same as the preceding.

19. Natica (?) Occident alis. Pi. 3, figs. S, 8 a. (Nos. 16 and 21 of
collection. )

Description. — Depressed, conical, or sub-globose ; spire short, consisting
of about five whorls, the last one comprising the greater part of the shell ;
aperture semi-oval, rounded at both extremities ; umbilicus small. Surface
marked by lines of growth.

Tim

TOSSIL SHELLS,

COLLECTION OF THE GEO GRAPH I CAL SURVEY -OF

OREGON AND NORTH CALIFORNIA .

E. Weber <* Co Satis

309

C 1‘4 ]

There is a single perfect specimen and several casts of this delicate little
shell. The mouth is not entire, but enough remains to show that the lip
was a little expanded ; but whether the columella covered a part of the
umbilicus is uncertain.

Locality in longitude 115°, latitude 43°, in a gray siliceous limestone.

20. Turritella bilineata. PI. 3, fig. 9. (No. 21 of collection.)

Description. — Elongated, subulate, spire rapidly ascending; whorls mark-
ed by a double, elevated, spiral line, which is notched in the lower whorls.

The specimen figured is imperfect, only the upper part of the shell remain-
ing. Several casts of the same species occur in the specimens.

Locality , same as the preceding.

21. Cerithium nodulosum. PI. 3, figs. 11 and 12. (Nos. 64, 68, and 74,
of collection.)

Description. — Elongated, subulate ; spire rapidly ascending ; whorls
about seven ; the sutures marked by a spiral band ; surface of whorls
marked by curved striae, or elevated lines, in the direction of the lines of
growth. Whorls carinated with a row of protuberances along the centre.

The arched lines of growth are more distinct upon the last whorl, and
it is marked beneath by a few spiral lines.

Fig. 11 is a perfect specimen. Fig. 12. The left-hand figure is a cast
of the same species; the right-hand figure retains the shell upon the upper
part, while it is removed from the lower part.

Locality in longitude 111°, latitude 41^°, in yellowish-gray oolitic lime-
stone.

22. Turbo paludin^formis. Pi. 3, fig. 13. (No. 64 of collection.)

Description. — Whorls, about four, rapidly enlarging, convex, smooth ;

mouth round-oval; columella slightly reflected; volutions marked by fine
arched striae in the direction of the lines of growth.

A small portion only of the shell remains upon the specimen figured,
but it is retained in the matrix. This fossil occurs in gray or yellowish
oolite, associated with Cerithium nodulosum , and other shells. It re-
sembles Paludina in form.

Locality , same as the preceding.

23. Leaves of dicotyledonous plants. PI. 3, figs. 14 and 15.

The specimens have not been satisfactorily identified, buj doubtless be-
long to a very modern tertiary deposite.

Locality , Cascades of the Columbia river.

Plate IV.

24. Inoceramus ? PI. 4, figs. 1 and 1 a. (Nos. 26, 29, 31, 33,

and 3S,of collection.) Compare Inoceramus mytiloides , Sow. Min. Con.,
tab. 442.

Description. — Inequavalved, depressed, and elongated ; surface marked
by numerous waved lines and ridges; convex towards the beaks ; beaks
short and obtuse, somewhat obsolete in old specimens; hinge line oblique.

In the old specimens, the shell appears much flattened, except towards
the beaks ; while in the younger specimens it is more convex, and par-
ticularly so towards the beaks. The youngest specimens are finely lined,
and the whole surface of one valve quite convex.

310

C 174 ]

This fossil apparently exists in great numbers, as in the specimens ex-
amined there were individuals in all stages of growth, though mostly
broken or separated valves. The same species was collected by the late
Mr. Nicollet, near the Great Bend of the Missouri.

Locality , Smoky Hill river, longitude 98°, latitude 38°, in yellowish and
gray limestone of the cretaceous formation.

25. Inoceramus ? PI. 4, fig. 2. (No. 42 of collection.) Compare

Inoceramus involutus , Sow. Min. Con., tab. 583.

Description. — Semicircular; surface flat, with the margin deflected;
marked by strong, regular concentric ridges, which become attenuated on
either side, and are nearly obsolete towards the beak ; beak of one valve
small, not elevated ; hinge line nearly rectangular.

The strong concentric ridges distinguish this fossil from any other species.
The specimen figured is probably the flat valve, as a fragment of a large
and much more convex valve accompanies this one, from the same locality.
The shell, particularly towards the margin, is very thick and fibrous.

Locality , near the eastern slope of the Rocky mountains, in longitude
105°, latitude 39°, in light yellowish-gray limestone, probably of the creta-
ceous formation.

%

Note. — The specimens figured on plate III, Nos. 1, 2, 4, 5, and 6, have
the appearance of fluviatile shells, and would have been so regarded but
for the occurrence of fig. 3, which appears to be a Nucula, and fig. 7, in
the same association, the sculpturing of which is unlike any of the Melania
known to me. It is not improbable, however, that this may prove a fresh-
water deposite of vast interest, as it appears to be of great extent, and oc-
curs at a great elevation. The researches of Capt. Fremont, in his future
explorations, will doubtless set this question at rest, by a larger collection
of fossils from the same region.

FOSSIL SHELLS

COLLECTION OF THE GEOGRAPHICAL SURJE'

OREGON AND NORTH CALIFORNIA

VJ. TV.

£ Weber dbCn £cde'

311

[ 174 ]

C.

NOTE CONCERNING THE PLANTS COLLECTED IN THE SECOND EXPEDI-
TION OF CAPTAIN FREMONT.

When Captain Fremont set out on his second expedition, he was well provided with paper and
other means for making extensive botanical collections; and it was understood that, on his return,
we should, conjointly, prepare a full account of his plants, to be appended to his report. About
i, 400 species were collected, many of them in regions not before explored by any botanist. In
consequence, however, of the great length of the journey, and the numerous accidents to which
the party were exposed, but especially owing to the dreadful flood of the Kansas, which deluged the
borders of the Missouri and Mississippi rivers, more than half of his specimens were ruined before
he reached the borders of civilization. Even the portion saved was greatly damaged; so that, in
many instances, it has been extremely difficult to determine the plants. As there was not suffi-
cient time before the publication of Captain Fremont’s report for the proper study of the remains of
his collection, it has been deemed advisable to reserve the greater part of them to incorporate with
the plants which we expect he will bring with him on returning from his third expedition, upon
which he has just set out.

The loss sustained by Captain Fremont, and, I may say, by the botanical world, will, we trust,
be partly made up the present and next seasons, as much of the same country will be passed over
again, and some new regions explored. Arrangements have also been made, by which the botanical
collections will be preserved, at least from the destructive effects of water; and a person accompa-
nies the expedition, who is to make drawings of all the most interesting plants. Particular atten-
tion will be given to the forest trees and the vegetable productions that are useful in the arts, or that
are employed for food or medicine.

JOHN TORREY.

Descriptions of some new genera and species of plants, collected in Cap-
tain J. C. Fremont’s exploring expedition to Oregon and North Cali-
fornia, in the years 1843-’44: By John Torrey and J. C. Fremont.

Cleomella (?) obtusifolia. Tow. and Frem.

Branching from the base, and diffuse ; leaflets cuneate-obovate, obtuse 5
style filiform.

Annual, stem smooth, the branches spreading, about a span long, hairy
in the axils. Leaves, or petioles, an inch or more in length ; the lamina of
the leaflets 4 — 6 lines long, apiculate with a deciduous bristle, nearly smooth
above, sparsely strigose underneath. Pedicels solitary and axillary, in the
upper part of the branches, longer than the petioles. Calyx much shorter
than the corolla ; the sepals lacerately 3 — 5-toothed. Petals yellow, oblong-
lanceolate, obtuse, about 3 lines in length. Stamens 6, unequal, a little
exserted; anthers linear-oblong, recurved when old. Torus hemispherical.
Ovary on a long slender stipe, obovate ; style longer than the ovary.

On the American fork of the Sacramento river ; March. The specimens
are not in fruit, so that we cannot be certain as to the genus; but it seems
to be a Cleomella.

L 174 ]

312

Meconella California. Torr. and Frem.

Leaves obovate-spatulate ; stamens 11 — 12.

On the American fork of the Sacramento river.

This species is intermediate between Meconeita and Platystigma. It is
a slender annual, 3 — 4 inches high, with the radical leaves in rosulate dus-
ters, and more dilated at the extremity than in M. Oregana. The flowers
also are much larger. The torus, which is like that of Eschschotzia, is very
distinct.

Arctomecon. Torr. and Frem. — n. gen.

Calyx of 3 smooth imbricated caducous sepals. Petals 4, obovate, reg-
ular. Stamens numerous ; anthers oblong-linear : the cells opening longi-
tudinally. Ovary obovoid, composed of 6 carpels, with as many narrow
intervalvular placentae : styles none : stigmas coalescing into a small hem-
ispherical 6-angled sessile head, the angles of which are opposite the pla-
centae, not forming a projecting disk. Capsule (immature) ovoid, the pla-
centae almost filiform, opening at the summit by 6 valves, which separate
from the persistent placentae. Seeds oblong, smooth, strophiolate. — A pe-
rennial herb, with a thick woody root. Leaves numerous, mostly crowded
about the root, flabelliform-cuneate, densely clothed with long gray up-
wardly barbellate hairs, 3 — 5 lobed at the summit ; the lobes with 2 — 3
teeth, which are tipped with a rigid pungent upwardly scabrous bristle.
Stem scape-like, about a foot high, furnished about the middle with one or
two small bract-like leaves, smooth above, rough towards the base. Flow-
ers in a loose, somewhat umbellate, simple or somewhat compound panicle ;
•the peduncles elongated, erect. Petals about an inch long, yellow.

Arctomecon Californicum. Torr. and Frfo/i.

This remarkable plant was found in only a single station in the Califor-
nian mountains, on the banks of a creek ; flowering early in May. The
soil was sterile and gravelly. Although very near Papaver, it differs so
much in habit and in the strophiolate seeds, as well as in other characters,
that it must be a distinct genus.

Krameria.

A shrubby species of this genus was found on the Virgen river, in Califor-
nia. It seems to be K. parvifolia of Bentham, described in the Voyage of
the Sulphur. Ilis plant, however, was only in fruit, while our specimens
are only in flower. Ours grows in thick bunches 1 — 2 feet high, of a gray
aspect, with numerous very straggling and somewhat spineseent branches.
Leaves scarcely one-third of an inch long, obovate-spatulate. The flowers
are scarcely more than half as large as in K. lanceolata. Sepals 5, un-
equal; claws of the Supper petals united into a column below; lamina
more or less ovate; the two lower petals short and truncate. Stamens
shorter than the upper petals; the filaments united at the base with the
column of the petals : anthers one-celled, with a membranaceous summit,
the orifice of which is somewhat dilated, and finally lacerated. Ovary
hairy and spinulose ; style rigid, declined.

Oxystylis. Torr. and Frem. — n. gen.

Sepals linear ; petals ovate, somewhat unguiculate ; ovary 2-celled ; the
cells subglobose, each with two^ ovules: style pyramidal, much larger than

BOTANY Blau* H

Iitk "by E Weber t Co'BaTtimcii'

313

[ 174 ]

the ovary. Silicle didymous: the carpels obovoid-globose, one-seeded,
(or rarely two-seeded,) indehiscent, separating from the base of the persis-
tent subulate spinesqent style: pericarp crustaceo-coriaceous. Seed ovate,
somewhat compressed ; testa membranaceous, the lining much thickened
and fleshy. Cotyledons incumbent, linear-oblong; radicle opposite the
placentae. — A smooth annual herb. Leaves ternately parted, on long
petioles; the leaflets ovate or oblong, entire petiolulate. Flowers in
numerous axillary crowded short capitate racemes, small and yellow.

Oxystylis lutea. Torr. and Frem.

On the Margoza river, at the foot of a sandy hill; only seen in one place,
but abundant there. The specimens were collected on the 28th of April,
and were in both flower and fruit.

A rather stout plant; the stem erect, a foot or 15 inches high, simple or
a little branching below, leafy. Leaflets 1 — 1§ inch long, obtuse. Heads
of flowers about half an inch in diameter, not elongating in fruit. Calyx
shorter than the corolla; the sepals acute,, yellowish, tipped with orange.
Petals about two lines long. Fruit consisting of two roundish indehiscent
carpels, which at maturity separate by a small base, leaving the indurated
pointed style. The epicarp is thin, membranaceous, and slightly corrugated.

This remarkable plant seems to connect Cruciferae with Capparidaceae.
The clusters of old flower stalks, with their numerous crowded spinescent
styles, present a singular appearance.

Thamnosma. Torr. and Frim . — n. gen.

Flowers hermaphrodite, (or polygamous?) Calyx 4-cleft. Corolla 4-
petalled, much longer than the calyx ; the aestivation valvate. Stamens S,
in a double series, all fertile. Ovaries 2, sessile and connate at the summit
of a stipe, each with 5 or 6 ovules in 2 series ; styles united into one ;
stigma capitate. Capsules 2, sessile at the sumrrrit of the stipe, subglobose,
united below, (one of them sometimes abortive,) coriaceous, 1 — 3-seeded.
Seeds curved, with a short beak, black and minutely wrinkled; the radicle
inferior. Embryo curved ; cotyledons broadly linear, incumbent.

Thamnosma Montana. Tor r and Frem .

A shrub of the height of one or two feet, branching from the base, with
simple, very small linear wedge-shaped leaves. The flowers are apparently
dark purple, in loose terminal clusters. The whole plant has a strong aro-
matic odor, and every part of it is covered with little glandular dots. Al-
though nearly allied to Xanthoxylum, we regard it as a peculiar genus. It
grows in the passes of the mountains, and on the Virgen river in Northern
California. The greater part of it was already in fruit in the month of May.

Prosopis odorata. Torr . and Frtm.

Branches and leaves smooth; spines stout, mostly in pairs, straight; pin*
nae a single pair ; leaflets 6 — S pairs, oblong-linear, slightly falcate, some"
what coriaceous, rather obtuse ; spikes elongated, on short peduncles; co"
rolla three times as long as the calyx; stamens exserted; legume spirally
wisted into a compact cylinder.

A tree about 20 feet high, with a very broad full head, and the lower
branches declining to the ground; the thorns sometimes more than art inch

314

[ 174 ]

long. Leaves smooth; the common petiole 1 — 2 inches long, and terminated
by a spinescent point; leaflets from half an inch to an inch long, and 1 — 2
lines broad, somewhat coricaceous, sparingly but prominently veined under-
neath. Spikes 2 — 4 inches long, and about one-third of an inch in diameter.
Flowers yellow, very fragrant, nearly sessile on the rachis. Calyx cam-
panulate, somewhat equally 5-toothed, smooth. Petals ovate-oblong, hairy
inside. Stamens 10, one-third longer than the corolla. Anthers tipped with
a slightly stipitate gland. Ovary linear-oblong, villous; style smooth; stigma
capitate, concave at the extremity. Legumes clustered, spirally twisted
into a very close rigid cylinder, which is from an inch to an inch and a half
long, and about two lines in diameter, forming, from ten to thirteen turns,
many seeded. Sarcocarp pulpy ; the two opposite sides of the firm endo
carp are compressed together between the seeds, forming a longitudinal kind
of septum, which divides the pulp into two parts. Seeds ovate, kidney-form,
compressed, very smooth and hard. Embryo yellowish, surrounded with a
thin albumen.

A characteristic tree in the mountainous part of Northern California, par-
ticularly along the Mohahve and Virgen rivers, flowering the latter part of
April.

This species belongs to the section strombocarpa of Mr. Bentham,*
which includes the Acacia strombulifera of Wildenow. In the structure
of the pod it is so remarkable that we at one time regarded it as a distinct
genus, to which we gave the name of Spirolobium.

There are numerous other Leguminosae in the collection, including.
might be expected, many species of Lupinus, Astragalus, Oxytropis, M
Phaca, some of which are new ; also, Thermopsis rhombifolia and mon-
tana, and a beautiful shrubby Psoralea (or some allied genus) covered with
bright violet flowers.

CoWANIA PLICATA. D. Don. (.?)

Specimens of this plant, without a ticket, were in the collection; ^ Mbt-
less obtained in California. It may prove to be a distinct species fra v..e
Mexican plant, for the leaves are more divided than they are described by
Don, and the flowers are smaller. The genus Cowania is very nearly al-
lied to Cercocarpus and Purshia, notwithstanding its numerous ovaries.
The lobes of the calyx are imbricated, as in those genera, and not valvate,
as in Eudryadeae , to which section it is referred by Endiicher.

Purshia tridentata formed a conspicuous object in several parts of the
route, not only east of the mountains, but in Oregon and California. It
is covered with a profusion of yellow flowers, and is quite ornamental.
Sometimes it attains the height of twelve feet.

Spiraea ariaefolia, var. discolor , was found on the upper waters o^
Platte, holding its characters so well that it should perhaps be ^gard
a distinct species.

(Enothera clav-kformis. Torr. and Frem.

Leaves ovate or oblong, denticulate or toothed, pinnatified at the base,
with a long naked petiole; scape with several small leaves, S — 12-flowered ;
segments of the calyx longer than the tube ; capsules clavate-cylindrical,
nearly twice as long as the pedicel. Flowers about as large as in CE. pu -
mila. Grows with the preceding.

In Hooker’s Journal of Botany, iv, p. 351.

Iith \w E .Weber aCo. Baltimore .

315 [ 174 ]

This new species belongs to the section Chylismia of Nutt. ( Torr. and
Gr. FI. N. « dm. l,p. 506.)

CEnothera deltoides. Torr . and Fr'em.

Annual ; canescently strigose ; stem low and stout ; leaves rhombicovate,
repandly denticulate, acute ; flowers (large) clustered at the summit of the
short stem; tube of the calyx nearly twice the length of the segments ; pe-
tals entire, one-third longer than the slightly declined stamens ; anthers very
long, fixed by the middle; style exserted; capsules prismatic-cylindrical.

Allied to CE. Jamesii, Torr. and Gr., and belongs, like that species, to
the section Eihenothera and sub-section Onagra.

CEnothera canescens. Torr. and Fr'em .

Strigosely canescent ; leaves narrowly lanceolate, rather obtuse, remotely
denticulate ; flowers in a leafy raceme ; tube of the calyx rather slender,
three times as long as the ovary, and one-third longer than the segments ;
petals broadly ovate, entire.

This species was collected (we believe) on the upper waters of the Platte.
It belongs to the section Euoenothera, and to a sub -section which may be
called Gauropsis, and characterized as follows : Perennial diffuse herbs ;
tube of the calyx linear ; capsule obovate, sessile, with 4-winged angles
and no intermediate ribs, tardily opening; seeds numerous, horizontal; the
testa membranaceous ; leaves opaque.

Besides these new species, many other (Enotheree were collected ; among
which may be mentioned CE. albicaulis, alyssoides, montana , and Mis -
souriensis. Also, Gay ophy turn diffusum, (from the Snake country, grow-
ing about 2 feet high.) Slenosiphon virgatum, and Gaura coccinea.

Composite.

The plants of this family were placed in the hands of Dr. Gray for ex-
amination; and he has described some of them (including four new gen-
era) in the Boston Journal of Natural History for January, 1845. He has
since ascertained another new genus among the specimens; and we fully
concur with him in the propriety of dedicating it to the late distinguished
I. N. Nicollet, Esq., who spent several years in exploring the country wa-
tered by the Mississippi and Missouri rivers, and who was employed by the
United States Government in a survey of the region lying between the
sources of those rivers. This gentleman exerted himself to make known
the botany of the country which he explored, and brought home with him
an interesting collection of plants, made under his direction, by Mr. Charles
Geyer, of which an account is given in the report of Mr. N. The follow-
ing is the description of this genus by Dr. Gray:

Nicolletia. Gray.

“ Heads heterogamous, with few rays, many flowered. Involucre campan-
ulate, consisting of about 8 oval membranaceous scales in a single series ; the
base calyculate, with one or two smaller scales. Receptacle convex, alveo-
late. Corolla of the disk flowers equally 5-toothed. Branches of the style
terminated by a subulate hisped appendage. Achenia elongated, slender,
canescently pubescent. Pappus double, scarcely shorter than the corrolla ;
the exterior of numerous scabrous, unequal bristles ; the inner of 5 linear-

I

[ 174 ] 316

lanceolate chaffy scales, which are entire, or 2-toothed at the summit, and
furnished with a strong central nerve, which is produced into a short sca-
brous awn. — A humble, branching (and apparently annual) herb. Leaves
alternate, pinnatified, and somewhat fleshy, (destitute of glands ?) ; the lobes
and rachis linear. Heads terminal, solitary, nearly sessile, large, (about an
inch long,) with one or two involucrate leaves at the base. Corolla yellow.”

Nicolletia occidentalis. Gray .

On the banks of the Mohahve river, growing in naked sands; flowering
in April. The plant has a powerful and rather agreeable odor. This in-
teresting genus (which is described from imperfect materials) belongs to the
tribe Senecionide.ze, and the sub-tribe Tagitine.e. It has the habit of
Dissodia, and exhibits both the chaffy pappus of the division Tageteae , and
the pappus pilosus of Porophyllum .* — Gray.

Franseria dumosa. Gray.

Shrubby, much branched ; leaves pinnatified, canescent on both sides, as'
are the branchlets; the divisions 3 — 7, oval, entire, and somewhat lobed; |
heads rather loosely spiked; involucre of the sterile flowers 5 — 7-cleft, I
strigosely canescent; of the fertile, ovoid, 2-celled, 2-flowered.

A shrub, 1 — 2 feet high, with divaricate rigid branches. Leaves scarcely
an inch long. Fertile (immature) involucre clothed with straight soft lan- I
ceolate-subulate prickles, which are short and scale-like. '

On the sandy uplands of the Mohahve river, and very common in all
that region of North California. Flowering in April. .

Amsonia tomentosa. Torr . and Frim.

Suffrutescent ; clothed with a dense whitish pubescence ; leaves lanceo-
late and ovate-lanceolate, acute at each end; segments of the calyx lanceo-
late-subulate ; corolla slightly hairy externally.

Stems numerous, erect, 12 to 18 inches high, woody, below simple or
branching. Leaves alternate ; the lowest small and spatulate, or reduced to
scales; the others about 2 inches long, and varying from 4 to 8 lines in
breadth ; entire, acuminate at the base. Flowers in rather dense, some-
what fastigiate terminal clusters, nearly three-fourths of an inch long. Ca- I
lyx about one-third the length of the corolla, 5-parted to the base; the seg- I
ments narrow and hairy. Corolla with the tube ventricose above; the seg-
ments ovate-oblong. Stamens included; filaments short; anthers ovate- 1
sagittate. Ovaries oblong, united below, distinct above, smooth; style
slender; stigma capitate, with a membranaceous collar at the base.

The specimens of this plant were without tickets; but they were proba- j
bly collected west of the Rocky mountains. They were without fruit.

Asclepias speciosa. Torr. in Ann. Lyc. New York, ii ,p. 218.

This (as was stated in the first report) is A. Douglasii of Hooker, well
figured in his Flora Boreali Americana, 2, t. 142. It has a wide range, be-
ing found on both sides of the Rocky mountains, and from the sources of
the St. Peter’s to those of the Kansas and Canadian. The fruit was collect-
ed from specimens on the banks of the Snake river. It is almost exactly
like that of A. Cornuti , being inflated, woolly, and covered with soft spines.

* It should be stated here, that the notice of this genus by Dr. Gray was drawn up in Latin; bu4
we have given it in English, that it may be uniform with our own descriptions.

BOTANY Tl'itc JIT.

latk .Try £ Web er-iCo. B altamore

317

[ 174 ]

Acerates latifolia. Torr. and Frem.

Stem simple, erect, smooth ; leaves roundish -ovate, nearly sessile, obtuse,
(with a small mucro, smooth on both sides; umbel solitary, on a terminal
i peduncle, few-flowered ; pedicels slender; segments of the corolla ovate-
lanceolate; lobes of the crown semilunar-ovate, as long as the column,
rather obtuse, cucullate.

On Green river, a tributary of the Colorado of the West; June. About a
span high. Leaves about an inch and a half long, and more than an inch
wide. Flowers few, very large, apparently yellowish. Fruit not seen.

Eriogonum inflatum. Torr. and Frem.

Smooth, bi-trichotomous; the lower part, and sometimes the two primary
divisions of the stem, much inflated and clavate; peduncles divaricately
branched, the ultimate divisions filiform and solitary; involucre few-flow-
ered, smooth ; the teeth equal, erect.

I The specimens of this plant are imperfect, being destitute of leaves,
which are probably wholly radical. It is a foot or more high. The first
joint of the stem, or rather scape, is remarkably dilated and fistular up-
ward. This divides into three or more branches, the two primary ones of
which are sometimes inflated like the first ; the subdivisions are dichoto-
mous, with a pedicellate involucre in each fork. The involucres are about
a line in diameter, smooth, 5 — 6-flowered; and, in all the specimens that I
examined, only 5-toothed. The plant was found on barren hills in the
lower pajpt of North California.

Eriogonum reniforme. Torr. and Frem.

Annual ; leaves radical, on long petioles, reniform, clothed with a dense
hoary tomentum; stem scape-like, naked, 3-forked from the base, glaucous,
and nearly smooth ; the divisions divaricately 2 — 3-forked ; involucres 2 — 4
together, on slender peduncles, smooth, campanulate, 5-toothed, the teeth
nearly equal, obtuse ; perigonium smooth.

On the Sacramento river; March. Allied to E. vimineum of Bentham.
A small species, with very minute flowers.

Eriogonum cordalum. Torr. and Frem.

Annual ; leaves all radical, on long petioles, roundish-ovate, cordate,
very obtuse, slightly pubescent above, hairy underneath; scape naked,
slender, smooth and glaneous, divaricately branched, the divisions slender;
involucres solitary, on filiform peduncles, campanulate, smooth, 5-toothed,
the teeth nearly equal, rather obtuse ; perigonium hairy.

With the preceding, from which it is easily distinguished by the form of
its leaves and color of the pubescence.

Many other species of this genus were collected in California and the
Snake country, some of which are probably new, and will be described in
the next report.

Fremontia vermicularis. Torr. in Fr'tm. report.

This curious plant is always found in saline soils, or where the atmo-
jsphere is saline. Its greatest height is eight feet. It is a characteristic fea-
Lture of the vegetation throughout a great part of Oregon and North Cali-
ifornia. About Bro wn’s Hole, on Green river, it occupies almost exclusively
1 the bottoms of the neighboring streams. It is abundant also on the shores

318

[ 174 ]

of a salt lake in lat. 38° and long. 113°; and constantly occurs in the desert
region south of the Columbia, and between the Cascade range and the
Rocky mountains, as far south as lat. 34°. The branches, when old, be-
come spiny, as in many other plants of this family.

Since the description of this genus was published in the first report,
(March, 1S43,) Nees has given it the name of Sarcobatus; and Dr. Seu-
bert has published an account of it, with a figure, in the Botaniache Zei-
ticng for 1844. This we have not yet seen; but, from the remarks of Dr.
Lindley, who has given a note on the genus in Hooker’s Journal of Botany
for January, 1845, it would seem that some doubt existed among European
botanists as to its affinities, as they had not seen the ripe seeds. These we
have long possessed, and unhesitatingly referred it to Chenopodiacies. We
regret that our sketches of the staminate flowers were mislaid when the
artist was engraving the figure.

. Obione confertifolia. Torr. and Fr'em .

Stem pubescent, much branched, erect ; leaves alternate, ovate, rather
obtuse, petiolate, much crowded, entire, somewhat coriaceous, white with
a mealy crust ; bracts broadly ovate, obtuse, entire, and the sides without
appendages or tubercles.

A small shrub, with rigid crooked and somewhat spinescent branches,
and of a whitish aspect. Leaves varying from one-third to half an inch in
length, abruptly narrowed at the base into a petiole, thickly clothed with a
white mealy substance.

Flowers apparently dioecious. Sterile not seen. Bracts of the fruit 3 — 4
lines long, united about half way up, distinct above, indurated at the base.
Styles .distinct. Pericarp very thin. Seed roundish-ovate, rostellate up-
ward; the testa coriaceous. Embryo two -thirds of a circle.

On the borders of the Great Salt lake. From the description of 0. cori-
acea , Moq., our plant seems to be a near ally of that species.

Pterochiton. Torr. and Frtm. — n. gen.

Flowers dioecious. Staminate .... Pistillate. Perigonium
ovoid-tubular, 4-winged, 2-toothed at the summit. Ovary roundish ; style
short; stigmas 2, linear. Ovule solitary, ascending from the base of the
ovary, campulitropous. Fructiferous perianth indurated, broadly 4-winged,
closed, minutely 2-toothed at the summit; the wings veined and irregularly
toothed. Utricle very thin and membranaceous, free. Seed ovate, some-
what compressed; the podosperm lateral and very distinct, rostrate up-
ward. Integument double, the exterior somewhat coriaceous, brownish,
the inner one thin. Embryo nearly a circle, surrounding copious mealy
albumen.

Pterochiton occidentale. Torr . and Fr'em.

An unarmed shrub, 1 — 2 feet high, with numerous slender branches,
which are clothed with a grayish nearly smooth bark. Leaves alternate
or fasciculate, linear oblanceolate, narrowed at the base, flat, entire, covered
with a whitish, mealy crust. Flowers somewhat racemose, on short pedi-
cels. Fructiferous calyx, with the wings 2 — 3 lines wide, semi-orbicular,
coriaceo-membranaceous, mealy like the leaves, strongly veined ; the mar-
gin more or less toothed. Utricle free from the indurated cavity of the
perianth, extremely thin and transparent. Seed conformed to the utricle^

1

iionxr nwi r

319 [ 174 ]

the conspicuous podosperm passing along its side ; the beak pointing ob-
liquely upward.

This is one of the numerous shrubby plants of the Chenopodiaceous
family that constitute a large part of the vegetation in’ the saline soils of
the west. The precise locality of this plant we cannot indicate, as the label
was illegible ; but it was probably from the borders of the Great Salt lake.
It is allied to Grayia of Hooker and Arnott, a shrub of the same family,
which was found in several places on both sides of the Rocky mountains,
often in great abundance.

Pinus monophyllus. Torr . and Frem. ( The nut pine.)

Leaves solitary, or very rarely in pairs, with scarcely any sheaths, stout
and rigid, somewhat pungent ; cones ovoid, the scales with a thick obtusely
pyramidal and protuberant summit, unarmed ; seeds large, without a wing.

A tree with verticil late branches and cylindrical-clavate buds, which are
about three-fourths of an inch in length. The leaves are from an inch to
two and a half inches long: often more or less curved, scattered, very stout,
terete, ( except in the very rare case of their being in pairs, when they are
semi-cylindrical,) ending in a spiny tip. Cones about 2§ inches long, and
1 1 inch broad in the widest part. The scales are of a light-brown color,
thick ; the summit obtusely pyramidal and somewhat recurved, but with-
out any point. The seeds are oblong, about half an inch long, without a
wing ; or rather the wing is indissolubly adherent to the scale. The ker-
nel is of a very pleasant Savor, resembling that of Pinus Pembra.

This tree, which is remarkable among the true pines for its solitary
leaves, is extensively diffused over the mountains of Northern California,
from long. Ill0 to 120°, and through a considerable range of latitude. It
is alluded to repeatedly, in the course of the narrative, as the nut pine.

The Coniferse of the collection were numerous, and suffered less than
most of the other plants. Some of them do not appear to have been hitherto
described. There was also an Ephedra, which does not differ essentially
from E. occidentalism found in great plenty on the sandy uplands of the
Mohahve river.

Description of the plates.

Plate 1. Arctomecon Californicum. Fig. 1, a stamen, magnified;
fig. 2, an ovule, mag.; fig. 3, capsule, nat. size; fig. 3, («,) stigma, mag.;
fig. 4, the same cut horizontally, showing the sutures; fig. 5, a seed, mag.;
fig. 6, portion of a hair from the leaf, mag.; fig. 7, bristle from the extrem-
ity of a leaf lobe, mag.; figs. 3 and 9, leaves, nat. size.

Plate 2. Prosopis odorata. Fig. 1, a flower, mag.; fig. 2, pistil,
mag; fig. 3, cluster of ripe legumes, nat. size.

Plate 3. Fremontia vermicularis. Fig. 1, a very young fertile
flower, mag.; fig. 2, an ovule, mag.; fig. 3, a fertile flower more advanced,
mag.; fig. 4, a fertile flower at maturity, showing the broad-winged border
of the calyx, mag.\ fig. 5, the same cut vertically; fig. 6, the same cut
horizontal! yj fig. 7, a seed, mag.; fig. 8, embryo, mag.

Plate 4. Pinus monophyllus. Fig. 1, a bud, nat. size; figs. 2, 3, 4,
and 5, leaves, nat. size ; fig. 2, (a,) section of a single leaf; fig. 5., (a,) sec-
tion of a pair of leaves; fig. 6, a cone, nat. size; fig. 7, a scale, as seen from
the outside; fig. 8, inside view of the same.

.

. ' '

.

‘•v . ' . . -J

■

■

, . ■ . ' ■ anil

\

'

■

1

• ■ ' • ■ - ''' ./•

3

r, - \ *

.

.

P i

321

[ 174 ]

ASTRONOMICAL OBSERVATIONS.

The map which accompanies this report is constructed upon Flamsteed’s modified projection,
on a scale of 1 : 2,000,000, and based upon the astronomical observations made during the cam-
paigns of 1842 and 1843-’44. The longitudes are referred to the meridian of Greenwich, and de-
pend upon eighteen principal stations ; four of which are determined by occultations of fixed
stars, and the remaining fourteen by eclipses of the satellites of Jupiter. All the longitudes on
the map have been chronometrically referred to these positions.

In the course of the last exploration, it became evident that the longitudes established during
the campaign of 1842 were collectively thrown too far to the westward, by the occultation of a2
Arietis, to which they had been referred by the chronometer. This occultation took place at the
bright limb of the moon, which experience has recently shown to be deserving of little com-
parative confidence. This position has therefore been abandoned, and the longitudes depending
upon it have been referred chronometrically to those established in 1843 and 1844. The course
of the ensuing expedition will intersect the line established by our previous operations, at various
points, which it is proposed to correct in longitude by lunar culminations, and such other absolute
observations as may be conveniently obtained. Such a position at the mouth of the Fontaine-qui-
bouit, on the Arkansas river, will be a good point of reference for the longitudes along the foot of
the mountains. In passing by the Utah, to the southern portion of the Great Salt lake, we shall
have an opportunity to verify our longitudes in that quarter ; and as in the course of our exploration
we shall touch upon several points previously determined along the w-estern limit of our recent
journey, we shall probably be able to form a reasonably correct frame on w7hich to base the con-
struction of a general map of the country. In that now presented, we have carefully avoided to lay
down any thing as certain which may not be found in the field books of our surveys, which were
greatly facilitated by the character of the country in which we were operating.

To the kindness of Captain Wilkes I am indebted for the longitudes of Fort Vancouver and
Nueva Helvetia, which were furnished to me before the publication of his map. Our recon-
noissance is connected with his surveys by those positions.

The coast line of the Pacific is laid down according to the survey of Vancouver ; and the bay of
San F r ancisco is reduced from the copy of a manuscript map of a detailed survey, in the possession
of Mr. Sutter.

J. C. FREMONT.

21

[ 174 ] 322

Table of latitudes and longitudes deduced from the annexed observations

Date.

Latitudes.

Longitudes.

Localities.

1843.

May 30

38° 49' 41"

94° 25' 31"

Elm grove.

June 1

39 01 16

95 11 09

Small tributary to the Kansas.

4

39 11 17

95 56 30

J Buck creek, tributary of the Kansas.

5

39 08 24

96 06 02

j Elk creek, tributary of the Kansas.

10

39 03 38

96 24 56

Encampment on the Smoky Hill fork, half a mil®

12

39 22 12

97 05 32

from its junction with the Republican.
| Tributary to the Republican fork.

15

39 32 54

98 11 41

Tributary to the Republican fork.

17

39 37 38

98 46 50

j Tributary to Solomon’s fork of the Republican.

19

39 42 35

99 22 03

I

| Tributary to Solomon’s fork of the Republican.

22

39 53 59

100 31 30

{ Tributary to Republican fork.

23

39 49 28

100 52 00

Prairie Dog river. Republican fork.

25

40 05 08

101 39 23

!

Small tributary to the Republican.

28

40 29 04

102 44 47

1

i Encampment on a small lake in the sandy plain

30

40 31 02

103 23 29

between the Republican and South fork of the
Platte river.

South fork of the Platte river.

July 1

40 17 21

104 02 00

South fork, 9 miles above mouth of Beaver fork.

7

39 43 53

105 24 34

South fork, near Cherry creek.

15

38 15 23

104 59 30

Junction of Arkansas and Boiling Spring river*.

18

38 52 10

105 22 45

Boiling Springs.

21

39 41 45

105 25 38

South fork.

23

40 16 52

105 12 23

St. Vrain’s fort.

30

41 02 19

105 35 17

High prairie, broken by buttes and boulders, with

31

31

41 04 06

41 15 02

106 16 54

scattered cedars, forming dividing grounde
between Laramie and Cache a la Poudr©
rivers.

Near the preceding.

Laramie river.

August 1
2
2

41 23 08

41 45 59

41 37 16

106 47 25

Stream discharging into a lake.
Fork of Laramie river.

Medicine Bow river.

3

5

41 35 48

41 35 59

107 22 27

Tributary to the North fork.
North fork of the Platte river.

323

[ 174 ]

Table of latitudes and longitudes — Continued.

Date.

Latitudes.

Longitudes.

1843.

August_ 8

42° 02'

03"

_

9

42

20

06

-

9

-

O

o

50'

07"

10

42

31

17

-

13

42

19

53

-

13

42

18

08

109

25

55

14

42

15

11

-

15

41

53

54

110

05

05

16

41

46

54

-

16

41

37

38

110

10

28

IT

41

29

53

110

25

06

18

41

26

08

110

45

58

19

41

34

24

-

20

41

39

45

-

21

41

53

55

-

21

42

03

47

111

10

53

22

42

10

27

-

24

42

29

05

-

24

42

36

56

111

42

08

25

42

39

57

111

46

00

29

42

07

18

-

30

42

14

22

-

31

41

59

~S1

-

Sept. 2

41

30

21

112

15

46

3

41

30

22

112

19

30

7, 12

41

15

50

112

06

43

8

41

11

26

112

11

30

9

41

10

42

112

21

05

10

41

14

17

Localities.

High plateau between the waters of the Atlantic
and the gulf of California.

Gap in the Sweet Water mountains.

Sweet Water river.

Sweet W ater river.

Near South pass, on a small affluent to the Sandy
fork of Green river.

j Small stream, tributary to the Little Sandy river.

! Green river, left bank.

Green river, near old trading post, at point where
the road to the Columbia leaves the river.

! Black’s fork of Green river.

Black’s fork.

Small stream, tributary to Ham’s fork.

Muddy river of Ham's fork.

| Muddy river.

Bear river.

|

Bear river.

| Bear river, above Thomas’s fork.

Tullick’s fork of Bear river.

Bear river,
j Beer springs.

Entrance of the beautiful pass with the remark-
able rock.

j Branch of Roseaux or Reed river.

Swampy place, a little distance from Roseau*
creek.

1 Bear river, near the mouth.

; Mouth of Bear river,
j Weber’s fork.

Weber’s fork, very near the mouth,
j Island in the Great Salt lake.

| Halt in the Mud .

3.

13

15

17

21

24

28

29

30

1

2

3

7

8

10

12

14

15

16

18

19

23

26

28

30

31

5

5

11

26

324

Table of latitudes and longitudes — Continued.

Latitudes.

Longitudes.

Localities.

j

41c

. 42'

43"

112°

05'

12"

Bear river, south of the gap— a main station.

42

12

57

112

15

04

Roseaux or Reed river.

42

44

40

112

29

52

Pannack river.

43

01

30

112

29

54

Fort Hall.

42

47

05

112

40

13

Snake liver, above the American falls.

42

29

57

-

Snake river.

42

26

21

114

06

04

Rock creek, of Snake river. *

42

38

44

114

25

04

Snake river, opposite to the River spring.

42

40

11

114

35

12

Snake river, 2 miles below Fishing falls.

42

53

40

114

53

04

Snake river.

42

55

58

115

04

46

Ford where road crosses the Snake river.

43

35

21

115

54

46

Big Wood river, or Riviere Boisee

43

40

53

116

22

40

Big Wood river, or Riviere Boisee.

43

49

22

116

47

03

Fort Boisee.

44

17

36

116

56

45

Snake river, below Birch creek.

41

37

44

117

09

49

Head water of Burnt river, (Riviere Brulee.)

44

50

32

117

24'

21

Old bed of Powder river.

44

59

29

117

29

22

Powder river.

45

26

47

117

28

26

Grand Rond.

45

38

07

117

28 _

34

Blue mountains, east of the summit.

45

53

35

118

00

39

Walahwalah river, foot of the mountains.

46

03

46

-

Fort Nez Perce.

45

58

08

-

Noon halt — left bank of the Columbia.

45

50

05

119

22

18

Left bank of the Columbia.

45

44

23

119

45

09

Left bank of the Columbia.

45

35

55

120

55

00

Missionary station at the Dalles of the Columbia.

45

35

21

120

53

51

Station on hills in rear of the mission.

45

33

09

122

06

15

Right bank of the Columbia, 1 5 miles below ihe

cascades.

45

14

24

-

1

Large branch of Fall river, ( Riviere aux Chutes .)

27

30

5

6

7

8

10

13

16

18

U4

26

29

31

3

6

15

18

19

21

22

23

24

26

30

5

,19

24

,22

325

[ 174 ]

Table of latitudes and longitudes — Continued.

Latitudes.

Longitudes.

Localities.

45°

06'

45"

121°

02'

43"

South end of Taih prairie.

44

35

23

121

10

25

Main branch of Fall river.

43

55

20

-

Fall river, (Union Falls.)

43

44

15

-

Fall river, (Union Falls. )

43

30

36

121

33

50

Fall river, (Union F alls. )

43

17

49

-

Camp in a pine forest.

42

56

51

-

Tlamath lake.

42

51

26

121

20

42

Tributary to the lake and head water of th
Tlamath river.

42

57

22

-

Summer lake.

42

42

37

-

Summer lake.

42

23

25

-

Christmas lake.

42

00

09

-

Desert valley among black rocky hills.

41

27

50

-

Camp of the 29th to 30th.

41

19

55

-

New-year’s Eve camp.

40

48

15

-

Camp near the Mud lake.

40

39

46

-

Camp near Great Boiling spring.

39

51

13

-

Pyramid lake, mouth of Salmon Trout river.

39

24

16

-

Camp on a river of the Sierra Nevada.

39

19

21

-

Camp on a river of the Sierra Nevada.

39

01

53

-

Camp on a river of the Sierra Nevada.

38

49

54

-

Camp on a river, near a gap.

38

36

19

_

Camp on a southern branch of stream of encamp-

ment of 22d to 23d.

38

24

28

-

Head waters of a stream.

38

18

01

-

Camp on a large stream.

38

37

18

_

Camp on the same stream which we encampe

upon on the night of the 18th to 1 9th January.

38

42

26

-

First camp in the pass of the Sierra Nevada.

38

41

57

120

25

57

The Long camp.

38

46

58

120

34

20

Rio de los Americanos, (high in the mountain. )

38

34

42

-

Nueva Helvetia.

26

28

31

3

4

5

8

9

10

13

14

15

18

21

24

25

29

1

3

5

6

8

9

12

19

23

24

27

28

326

Table of latitudes and longitudes — Continued.

Latitudes.

Longitudes.

Localities.

38°

08'

23"

121°

23'

03"

Rio dc los Mukelemnes.

38

02

48

121

16

22

Rio de las Calaveras.

37

42

26

121

07

13

Stanislaus river.

37

15

43

120

46

30

Stanislaus river.

37

22

05

120

58

03

Large tributary of the San Joaquin, (no name.)

37

08

00

120

45

22

San Joaquin river.

36

49

12

120

38

34

San Joaquin river.

36

24

50

119

41

40

Lake fork, (of the Tulares.)

36

08

38

119

22

02

Small stream affluent to the lake, (Tulares. )

35

49

10

118

56

34

Small stream affluent to the lake, (Tulares.)

35

17

12

118

35

03

Near Pass creek in the mountains, (Sierra Ne-

vada. )

35

03

00

118

18

09

Small stream east of the Sierra Nevada.

34

41

43

118

20

00

Rock spring.

34

27

03

117

43

21

Spring heads of a stream among foot hills of th©

mountain.

34

34

11

117

13

00

Mohahve river, on the Spanish trail from Pueblo

de los Angeles to Santa Fe.

34

56

00

116

29

19

Mohahve river, on the Spanish trail from Pueblo
de los Angeles to Santa Fe.

35

13

08

116

23

28

Agua de Tomaso, on the Spanish trail.

35

51

21

-

Hernandez spring.

35

58

19

, _

Deep Spring hole on a river which loses itself in

the sands.

36

10

20

-

Las Vegas, (the plains. )

36

38

56

-

Branch of the Rio Virgen.

36

39

33

-

Rio Virgen.

36

53

03

-

Rio Virgen.

36

53

40

-

Rio Virgen.

37

28

28

-

Vegas de Santa Clara.

38

18

20

_

A fine rolling prairie at the spring head of a tribu-

tary to Sevier lake.

39

22

19

-

Sevier river.

39

42

15

-

First stream of Utah lake.

40

04

27

-

Right-hand branch of Spanish fork.

39

55

11

-

Head of Spanish fork.

30

3

5

7

8

10

11

13

14

15

16

19

22

26

28

29

2

9

10

13

17

19

21

22

23

28

327

[ 174 ]

Table of latitudes and longitudes — Continued.

Latitudes.

Longitudes.

Localities.

©

o

00'

07"

_

Head of Uintah river.

40

18

52

112°

18'

30"

Duchesne fork.

40

27

45

109

56

42

Uintah fort.

40

28

07

109

27

07

Ashley’s fork.

40

46

27

-

Brown’s Hole on Green river.

40

46

27

-

Green river in Brown’s Hole.

41

01

48

-

Elk Head river.

41

01

11

-

Elk Head river.

41

18

48

_

Valley of the North fork of Platte, (foot of the

mountains. )

41

08

16

-

'

Valley of the North fork of Platte, (higher.)

40

52

44

-

New Park.

40

33

22

-

New Park.

.39

57

26

-

Old Park, fork of Grand river.

39

20

24 |

_

Entrance of bayou Salade — head of F ontaine-qui»

bouit ? South fork of the Platte ?

38

39

22

-

Small affluent to the Arkansas.

38

23

48

-

A larger affluent to the Arkansas.

38

15

23

-

Junction of Arkansas and F ontaine-qui-bouit

rivers.

38

02

08

•

-

Near Bent’s fort on the Arkansas river.

38

51

15

-

Smoky Hill river.

38

52

22

-

Smoky Hill river.

38

45

57

-

Smoky Hill river.

38

42

33

-

Smoky Hill river, below Pawnee village.

38

43

32

98

17

31

Smoky Hill river.

38

28

38

-

Three miles south of Smoky Hill fork.

38

31

38

-

Between Smoky Hill fork and the Santa Fe trail.

38

33

22

-

Santa Fe road.

38

46

50

98

1

04

34

Black jack on the Santa Fe road.

4

''

"fT.

id/. )h »o

'

•* 7

Jii

. u*

r

.

, S: . ■ ''

■

ASTRONOMICAL OBSERVATIONS

MADE DURING

THE EXPEDITION OF 1843->44.

[ 174 ]

330

ENCAMPMENT AT THE KANSAS LANDING.
Determination of time , May 18, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.*

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun:

*s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

58

12

20

4

45

20 0

56

45

00

4

49

07.0

57

54

10

46

07.5

56

27

50

49

49.0

57

32

40

47

04.0

56

13

25

50

27.0

57

17

40

47

42.0

55

59

00

51

04.7

57

03

45

48

17.4

55

46

30

51

37.0

Index error = -J- 22 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec .

h. min. sec.

4 29 50

0 18 49.3

Determination of time , May 19, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

Ji. min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

51

44

30

7 27

17.0

53

58

30

7

33

05.0

52

22

50

28

58.3

54

33

00

34

36.8

52

50

35

30

10.5

54

57

50

35

40.0

53

19

05

31

24.2

55

25

20

37

16.3

56

01

50

38

25.0

Index error = -j- 20 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 13 59

0 18 39

* The “ observations” in these tables are given in civil time.

331

[ 174 J

ENCAMPMENT AT THE KANSAS LANDING.

Determination of time , May 19, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer ,

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

43

01

08

5 24

59.5

41

35

35

5

28

43.0

42

44

40

25

41.0

41

22

40

29

17.3

42

31

55

26

14.0

41

08

25

29

53.0

42

11

10

27

09.3

40

49

20

30

45.0

41

57

30

27

45.4

40

25

50

31

45.0

Index error = — |— 1 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

5 09 52

0 18 21.6

Determination of time , May 21, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST !

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

71

45

50

8

17

02.0

70

43 20

8

14

21.0

72

17

50

18

25.6

70

58 40

15

01.0

72

36

00

19

11.0

71

15 20

15

43.7

72

53

00

19

56.0

71

29 45

16

20.5

73

05

40

20

29.0

Index error = + 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

k. min. sec.
7 59 28

Advance.

h. min. sec.
0 17 42.9

[ 174 ]

332

ENCAMPMENT AT THE KANSAS LANDING.

Determination of time , May 22, 1843 — attitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

66

08

40

8 01

33.3

67

47

20

8

05

49.3

66

34

50

02

40.5

68

02

10

06

28.0

66

52

30

03

27.4

68

17

00

07

05.0

67

05

40

04

02.0

68

41

00

08

08.0

67

29

50

05

04.6

69

15

20

09

38.0

Index error = 4-1 min. 12 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 48 06

0 17 17.9

Determination of time, May 22, 1843 — altitudes of the stin.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES,

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sxm’s lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

53

42

30

4

57

52.5

52 19

20

5 01 | 28.5

53

29

30

4

58

26.7

52 05

40

02 02.6

53

10

10

4

59

15.5

51 52

10

02 39.2

52

49

50

5

00

10.2

51 40

50

03 06.7

52

34

40

5

00

49.0

51 28

55

03 39.3 ]

.... —■»

Index error = 4-10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

4 43 53

0 17 3.8

333

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE KANSAS LANDING.

Determination of time , May 23, 1S43 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes

of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

! Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

A.

min.

sec.

58

43

40 i

7

41 31.3

60

25 30

7

45

56.0

59

05

30 j

42 27.2

, 60

39 50

46

32.0

59

23

00 ]

43 13.3

60

55 00

47

09.5

59

40

10

43 56.7

1 61

12 20

47

56.0

60

01

50

44 53.0

,

61

27 55

48

35.8

Index error = -}- 1 min. 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 28 21

r i

0 16 52.27

Determination of time , May 24, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

oiible altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer

Deg.

min

. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg

min.

sec .

k.

min .

sec.

63

22

10

7

52

44 0

64

23

20

7

55

29.4

63

34

40

53

15.5

64

36

20

55

54 5

63

48

50 I

53

53.0

64

45

15

56

16.5

61

02

55 !

54

28.0

64

58

10

56

50.7

64

15

20 j

_ 1

55

00.5

| 65

11

20

57

25.0

Index error = -f- 1 min. 17 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

7 38 34

0 16 33.4

i 1^4 ]

334

ENCAMPMENT AT THE KANSAS LANDING.

Determination of time , May 25, 184 3 — attitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Dg

m'n.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

43

58

30

5

24

22.5

42

38

40

5

27

52 0

43

42

40

25

02.0

42

22

25

28

33.5

43

26

10

25

46.3

42

08

30

29

ll.O

43

12

00

26

22.0

41

51

15

29

47.0

43

00

00

26*

54 0

41

39

15

30

26.0

SECOND SERIES.

Index error = — 4 see.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h. mi • i

'. sec.

5 11

11

0 16

14.8

Determination of time , May 26, 1S43 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Dig. min. sec.

h. m>n . sec.

64 01 20

7 53 13.5

6 j 43 30

7 57 36.3

64 25 30

54 15 0

j 66 01 00

58 22 0

64 57 50

55 41.5

* 66 14 00

58 56.4

65 12 40

56 17 3

66 24 40

59 24.0

65 33 20

57 09.5

1 66 38 10

!

69 66.7

Index error = + 1 min. 5 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 40

51

0 16

14.8

335

C 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE KANSAS LANDING.

Determination of latitude , May 26, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. j Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

31

00

10

45

47

75

34

40

50

54

75

34

20

52

26

75

35

00

53

51

75

35

35

56

22

Index error = — 4 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

37 45 46

10 35 42

39 07 25

ENCAMPMENT AT ELM GROVE.

Determination of longitude , May 30, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

FIRST SERIES.

OBSERVATIONS.

SECOXD SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

41

05

15

40

48

00

40

32

55

40

17

30

40

03

30

Time of chronome-
ter.

h. min. sec.
5 31 12.0

34 56.3

35 35.0

36 15.5

36 52.2

Index error

Double altitudes of the Time of chronometer,
sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

39

48

20

\ 5

37

33.0

39

37

55 1

38

01.0

39

24

05

38

36.7

39

1 1

55 !

39

10 0

39

01

50 j

39

36.6

— — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

-

h. min. sec .

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

5 21 21

0 15 44. 1

94 25 31

[ 174 ]

336

ENCAMPMENT AT ELM GROVE.

Determination of longitude , May 30, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyras.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIBST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of a

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of a

Time

of chronometer.

Lyrae.

Lyrae.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

65

12

10

9

11

22.5

65

42

50

12

50.0

67

40

00

9

18

22.0

66

10

00

14

05.0

68

29

00

20

38.5

66

41

40

15

35.0

69

0L

00

22

08.0

67

08

00

1

16

49.0 I

Index error = — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

9 1 34

0

15

41.2

Determination of latitude , May 30, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. mm. sec.

74 41 10

9 27 49

43 10

30 12

41 00

31 28

42 50

34 06

43 10

37 04

43 00

38 43

43 50

40 49

43 40

42 39

44 30

44 34

45 10

46 27

Index error = — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Dg. min.

sec.

37 20 14

9 21 43

38 49

41

337

[ 174 l

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL TRIBUTARY TO THE KANSAS RIVER,
Determination of latitude , June 1, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

' OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

75 07 40

9 40 54

75 08 10

42 39

75 09 10

44 52

75 09 20

46 38

75 10 00

48 33

Index error = — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

D°g. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

37 33 05

9 26 . 53

39 01 16

Determination of longitude , June 1, 1S43 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

r » ?

~

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

76

01

50

9 35

12.5

76

36

50

36

55.0

w

77

00

40

.37

59.5

Index error = — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

♦

V d /

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
9 18 49

h . min. sec.
0 17 53

Deg. min. sec.
95 11 09

22

[ 174 ] 338

ENCAMPMENT ON BLACK CREEK, A TRIBUTARY TO THE KANSAS.

Determination of latitude , 4, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

observations.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

15 28 45

9 32 00

75 28 00

35 13

75 30 00

37 00

75 30 00

38 56

Index error = — 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

h. min. sec.

k. min. sec.

D g. min.

sec.

37 41 13

9 16 10

39 11

17

Determination of longitude , 4, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrx.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

82 46 50

9 43 32.5

84 16 20

47 41.0

Index error = — 15 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

h. min. sec.
9 25 58

Advance.

A. min.
0 19

sec.

38.5

Longitude.

Deg. min.
95 56

see.

30

339

C »?4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON ELK CREEK, A TRIBUTARY TO THE KANSAS.

Determination of longitude , June 5, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

- 1

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min, sec.

h. min. sec.

44 23 10

5 33 14.0

42 43 30

5 37 37.0

45 58 25

34 19.5

42 27 50

38 19.4

43 43 00

35 00.0

42 1 1 35

39 02.5

43 32 30

35 27.5

4 1 52 40

39 51.6

43 21 50

35 57.5

41 42 10

40 21.5

Index error = — 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg . min. sec.

5 17 00

0

19

54.7

96 06 02

Determination of latitude , June 5, 1813 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

i Time of chronometer.

Drg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

55

40

10

56

28

75

56

50

58

53

75

57

20

11

01

15

75

58

55

02

52

75

59

00

04

53

76

00

30

06

52

76

01

10

08

42

76

01

45

10

04

Index error = — 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

'

h. min. sec.

Deg , jpin. sec.

37 58 15

10 43 50

39 08 24

340

[ 174 ]

JJeterrninalion of latitude, June 9, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec. +

h.

min.

sec.

75

31

40

10

19

4S

75 .

35

50

22

53

75

36

40

26

32

75

38

00

29

07

75

39

40

32

46

75

40

35

35

52

<

Index error = — 15 see.

RESULT OF CALCULATION

True altitude.

Mean time.

. Latitude.

Deg. min. see.

h. min. sec .

Deg. min. sec.

37 47 23

10 08 . 25

39 03 22

Determination of longitude, June 9, 1S43 — altitudes of the sun.

observations.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

29

51

15

6

23

05.5

31

24

10

27

19.0

32

00

20

28

55.0

32

21

15

29

51.0

32

43

05

SO

50 0

Index error = — 15 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude. ^

h. min. sec.
6 08 39

h. min. sec.
0 19 21.6

;

341

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SMOKY HILL FORK, HALF A MILE FROM ITS JUNC-
TION WITH THE REPUBLICAN.

Determination of longitude , June 10, 1843 — attitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

see.

h. min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k. min.

sec.

54

47

40

5 07

2i.O

52

39

40

5 12

53.6

54

03

55

09

14.4

52

23

00

13

37.5

53

36

55

10

25.5

51

39

45

15

33.5

53

19

10

11

12.5

51

24

30

16

10.6

52

59

15

12

04.4

50

59

15

17

17.0

Index error = — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sc.

h. min . sec.

Deg. min. sec.

4 53 30

0 19 04.5

96 24 56

Determination of latitude , June 10, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

m ;n.

sec.

75

21

15

9

38

29

75

21

30

41

35

75

22

40

46

06

75

23

50

47

36

75

24

00

48

52

75

21

45

50

28

75

25

00

62

01

75

26

30

53

18

75

26

30

54

43

75

27

15

57

17

Index error = — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time

Latitude.

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

Drg. min.

se r.

37 40

50

9 30 03

39 03

38

342

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SMOKY HILL FORK, HALF A MILE FROM ITS JUNC-
TION WITH THE REPUBLICAN.

Determination of longitude , June 10, 1843 — altitudes of a Cygni.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

De%. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

71 47 50

10 10 48 5

72 36 00

13 13 5

73 05 20

14 45 0

73 40 00

16 32.0

74 16 15

18 20.0

Index error = — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

ENCAMPMENT ON A TRIBUTARY TO REPUBLICAN FORK.
Determination of latitude , June 12, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Doable altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Dee;.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

76

09

00

10

01

42

76

10

00

04

49

76

10

30

07

19

76

11

50

08

55

76

12

20

11

02

76

12

30

12

30

76

12

50

14

48

Index error = — 12 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

D°ir. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Dee;.

min. sec.

38 04 18

9

47 51

39

22 12

343

C 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A TRIBUTARY TO REPUBLICAN FORK.
Determination of longitude , June 12, 1843 — ulliludes of a Jiquilde.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Aquilse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

54

29

00

10

33

54.5

55

30

30

36

35 4

56

15

20

38

35.0

Index error = — 12 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

10 15 29

0

20 52.6

97 05 32

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON THE TRIBUTARY TO REPUBLICAN FORK.
Determination of longitude , June 15, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

52

48

25

5

55

29.5

51

06

30

5

59

58 0

52

33

35

56

06.0

50

53

30

6

00

29.6

51

57

35

57

44.0

50

40

45

01

04.0

51

32

20

58

48.0

50

30

15

01

32.3

51

20

55

59

18.0

50

19

00

02

02.6

Index error = — 18 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. see.

Deg. min. sec.

4 59 33

0

59 44.6

98 11 41

344

l 174 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON THE TRIBUTARY TO REPUBLICAN FORK.

Determination of latitude , June 15, 1 S-4 3 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

76

21

30

10

07

00

76

22

00

08

21

76

22

25

09

51

76

23

20

11

15

76

23

40

12

15

76

23

30

13

17

76

24

00

14

44

76

25

00

17

37

76

25

25

19

19

76

27

10

21

31

Index error = — 12 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

38 10 34

9 13 50

39 32 54

ENCAMPMENT ON A TRIBUTARY TO SOLOMON’S FORK OF THE REPUBLICAN.
Determination of latitude , June 17, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

m>n.

sec.

h.

min.

sec .

76

37

50

10

16

56

76

38

20

18

41

76

38

30

20

25

76

39

20

22

33

76

39

50

23

40

76

40

10

25

46

76

40

40

26

50

76

41

20

28

11

76

42

00

29

41

76

42

10

30

50

Index error = — 14 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

D g. min. sec.

38 18 39

9 23 32

39 37 38

3-15

[ >74 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A TRIBUTARY TO SOLOMON’S FORK OF THE REPUBLICAN.

Determination of time , June 17, 184:3 — altitudes of a Aquilx.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Aquilas.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. mm. sec.

61 10 50

11 12

46.5

61 40 00

14

07.5

62 57 50

17

35.5

63 19 20

18

35.0

63 5

50

20

02.5

64 25 00

21

34.0

Index error

■ = — 14 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

10 16 36

1 00

50.4

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON THE TRIBUTARY TO SOLOMON’S FORK.

Determination of time , June 19, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

•

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

j sun’s lower limb.

D°g. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

42 24 05

6 26 54.5

41 05 10

6 30 22 5

42 08 10

2? 365

40 52 40

30 59.0

41 54 50

28 13 0

40 ' 40 45

31 31.5

41 42 30

28 46.3

40 14 50

32 40.0

41 31 15

29 15.0

40 04 10

33 08 5

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

5 27

46

1 02 10

346

[ 174 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON THE TRIBUTARY TO SOLOMON’S FORK.
Determination of latitude^ June 19, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Doable altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

76

43

35

10

01

50

76

46

40

08

48

76

48

40

14

36

76

50

00

19

28

76

51

20

22

14

Index error ==■ — 10 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec .

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

38 2-2 42

9 11 13

39 42 35

ENCAMPMENT ON A TRIBUTARY TO REPUBLICAN FORK.

Determination of time . June 22, 1843 — altitudes of a Aquilx.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of a

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of a

Time of chronometer.

Aquilae.

Aquilae.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

49 29 10

10 26 37.0

54 32 10

10 39 58.0

50 18 50

28 48.0

55 18 20

42 02.0

51 41 00

32 * 24.0

56 15 50

44 34.5

l

Index error == -|- 1 min. 25 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

#

9 30 42

1

05 01.5

347

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A TRIBUTARY TO REPUBLICAN FORK.
Determination of latitude , June 22, 1813 — altitudes of Polaris -

observations.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

77

30

00

10

50

14

77

30

30

52

05 (

77

32

20

53

24

77

32

30

54

27

77

33

20

56

10

Index error = -f~ 1 min. 25 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

38 45 22

9 48 15

39 53 59

ENCAMPMENT ON PRAIRIE DOG RIVER, TRIBUTARY TO REPUBLICAN FORK.
Determination of time, June 23, 1843 — altitudes of a Cygni .

OBSERVATIONS.

1

Double altitudes of a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

64

20

00

10

09

43 0

64

48

50

11

12 5

65

20

50

12

49.7

65

51

30

i

14

25.0

66

24

40

16

10.0

Index error == — 10 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

9 07 02

1 05

50.5

348

L 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON PRAIRIE DOG RIVER, TRIBUTARY TO REPUBLICAN FORK.

Determination of latitude , June 23, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Dpg. min. sec.

k. min. sec.

77 21 20

10 44 33

77 21 30

45 45

77 22 • 45

46 59

77 23 40

48 55

77 25 40

52 05

77 26 00

53 59

77 28 10

55 30

77 28 10

57 49

77 30 00

59 58

77 30 00

11 01 40

;

Index error = — 10 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min . sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

38 41 34

9 46 53

39

49

28

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL TRIBUTARY TO THE REPUBLICAN FORK.
Determination of time , June 25, 1843 — altitudes of a Cygni „

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

11

45

10

36

28.0

75

40

00

37

56.0

76

14

00

39

39.5

Index error — — 10 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

h. min.
9 30

sec.

09

Advance.

mm.

07

sec .
51.8

349

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL TRIBUTARY TO THE REPUBLICAN FORK.
Determination of latitude , June 25, 1S43 — ullitudes of Polaris.

OBSEHVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

78 10 00

11 10 03

78 10 40

12 02

78 11 50

14 02

78 J4 20

15 50

78 15 30

18 36

Index error = — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitu le.

Deg. m>n. see..
39 04 57

h. min. sec.

10 06 15

D g. min. se •.
40 05 08

2NCAMPMENT ON A SMALL LAKE IN THE SANDY PLAIN BETWEEN THE
REPUBLICAN AND SOUTH FORKS OF THE PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of time, June 28, 1843 — altitudes of a Jlquilse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

D<g.

min.

sec.

h

m’n.

sec.

59

35

00

10

36

08.0

60

28

50

38

34.0

61

15

10

40

42.0

62

06

10

43

01.0

63

01

40

45

33.0

Index error = — 20 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

•

h.

min. sec.

h.

m’n.

sec.

9

30 15

1

10

32

350

[ >74 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL LAKE IN THE SANDY PLAIN BETWEEN THE
REPUBLICAN AND SOUTH FORKS OF THE PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude , June 2S, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

78

52

00

10

50

44

78

53

40

53

06

78

55

20

54

49

78

56

00

56

33

78

56

30

58

56

78

57

30

11

01

07

78

59

00

02

36

78

59

20

04

11

79

01

10

06

24

79

01

25

07

33

Index error = — 20 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec

Deg. min. sec.

39 27 15

9 49 04

40 29 04

Determination of latitude, June 2S, 1843 — meridian altitude of a Aquilse.

Double altitude of a Aquilse.

True altitude.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. m>n. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

116 01 50

58 00 30

40 27 24

351

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SOUTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of tirfie , June 30, 1843 — altitude of the sun W,

OBSERVATION.

Double altitude of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h . min. sec ,

50 25 25

6 18 34.0

Index error = -f- 1 min. 27 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

h . min. sec.

5 06 28

hm

1

Advance.

min. sec.
12 05.9

Determination of latitude — meridian altitude of a Jlquilse .

OBSERVATION.

Double altitude of a Aquilae.

True altitude.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg . min. sec.

115 54 50

57 56 32

40 31 02

352

[ 174 ]

fncampment on the south fork of the platte river, nine miles

ABOVE THE MlUTH OF BEAVER FORK.

Determination of time , July 1, 1843— altitudes of a rfquilae.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

Drg.

ruin.

see.

h.

min.

sec.

61

16

00

10

37

3 \0

63

56

30

39

22.0

6 1

21

25

40

33.6

64

52

00

41

58 0

65

47

45

44

30.5

Index error = — 34 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

mm.

26

src.

47

Advance.

mm.

14

sec.

00 6

Determination of latitude, July \, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

D fr.

min.

sec .

78

33

10

78

35

50

78

36

25

78

38

50

78

39

30

78

42

00

78

42

00

78

43

10

78

41

30

78

46

10

Time of chronometer.

h.

min.

src.

10

52

02

•

53

48

55

30

57

52

59

44

11

02

53

05

33

07

17

08

56

11

35

Index error == — 34 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Drg. min. sec ,

h. min. sec.

D g. min. sec.

39 18 37

9 47 31

40 17 21

353

[ 174 ]

Sr. VRAIN’S FORT,

Determination of longitude , July 4, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

EIIIST SERIES.

SECOXD

SEEIES.

Double altitudes of the !

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

i

sun’s lower

limb.

Deg .

min. sec.

L

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

53

20 00

6

14

45.0

51

42

50

6 19

017

53

02 20

15

29.5

51

29

00

19

39 0

52

49 50

16

03 5

50

37

30

21

56.0

52

26 55

17

04.0

50

09

00

23

12.0

52

13 00

17

41.0

49

56

40

23

45.0

Index error = — 47 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec .

4 57 50

1 17 05.9

105 12 23

#

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SOUTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER, NEAR CHERRY

CREEK.

Determination of latitude , July 7, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min, sec.

77 14 30

10 07 56

77 15 00

09 52

Index error = — 2 min. 13 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude,

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec ,

Deg. min. sec.

38 36 09

8 52 54

39 43 53

23

354

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SOUTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Dete?'?ninatiun of longitude, July 8, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

see .

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

17

14

50

6

50

44.0

19 46

25

6

57

48.3

17

55

10

52

34.5

20 00

00

58

26.0

18

45

10

54

56.5

20 12

50

59

01.3

19

05

45

55

54.0

20 22

25

59

29.0

19

30

15

57

02.5

20 37

20

7

00

11.0

Index error = — 29 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

' - -

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

5 36 05

1

15 55.1

Determination of longitude, July 11, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

see.

44

35

50

6

30

23.0

41

35

10

6

38

18.6

44

14

50

31

17.0

41

15

30

39

10.0

44

00

40

31

55.0

41

00

45

39

49.2

43

48

20

32

27.7

40

44

20

40

33.5.

43

26

30

33

26.0

40

31

30

41

07.4

Index error = — 37 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

• Longitude.

* f

355

[ 174-]

Determination of latitude, July 1 3, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris \

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

74 44 10

9 48 54

74 45 30

50 45

Index error = — 30 sec.
•RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

'

Determination of longitude, July 13, 1S43 — altitudes of * a Cygni .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

min.

sec.

84

22

40

9

54

55.0

85

18

50

57

32.0

85

56

10

59

17.5

86

32

40

10

00

59.0

87

19

50

03

13.0

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

-■

1

356

[ 174 ]

JUNCTION OF ARKANSAS AND BOILING SPRING RIVERS.

Determination of longitude , July 15, 1843 — altitudes oj the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

41

51

15

7

58

03 0

43

18

40

8

01

50.2

42

14

00

59

01.0

43

33

40

02

28 4

42

28

CO

59

37.6

43

48

30

0‘L

07.2

42

43

20

8

00

18.0

44

05

35

03

50.5

42

56

30

00

52.0

44

20

40

04

30.3

Index error = + 2 min. 9 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Jl.

6

Mean time.

min. sec.
45 34

h.

I

Advance.

min.

10

sec.

13.5

Longitude.

Deg. min.
104 58

sec.

30

ENCAMPMENT AT BOILING SPRINGS.

Determination of longitude , July 18, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the

sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer. '

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

101

00

10

10 32

12 5

101

21

00

32

59.3

102

05

55

34

56.2

102

20

20

35

35.0

102

34

40

36

12.3

Index error — -|- 1 min* 50 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

-

h. min. sec.

9 18 35

h. min. sec.

1 09 58.5

Deg. min.
105 22

sec.

45

357

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT BOILING SPRINGS.

Determination of longitude, July IS, 1843 — distance from the moon9s

second limb to the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Time of chronometer.

11

Apparent distance.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

49

10

99

45

50

50

44

99

45

30

52

01

99

44

20

53

10

99

44

00

54

29

99

43

25

55

55

99

42

45

57

03

99

42

15

58

31

99

42

10

59

32

99

41

20

00

42

99

40

55

02

03

99

40

25

03

16

99

40

00

04

39

99

39

30

06

05

99

38

50

07

45

99

38

10

08

50

99

37

55

10

05

99

37

05

10

59

99

37

20

11

58

99

36

35

13

17

99

35

40

Index error = + 1 min. 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True distance.

Mean time at Greenwich.

Longitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

99 26 33

16 50 47

[ 174 ]

358

ENCAMPMENT AT BOILING SPRINGS.

Determination of longitude , July 18, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

136

48

10

2

10

30.0

136

28

50

11

49.5

136

11

40

12

59.0

135

58

50

13

51.0

135

48

25

14

33.0

Index error — -J- 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance;

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

k

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

1 02 49

1

09 55.3

105 22 45

I

359 [ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT BOILING SPRINGS.

Determination of latitude , July IS, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

76

39

10

11

01

04

76

40

00

03

17

76

41

50

04

59

76

40

10

06

20

76

45

20

12

04

76

47

30

14

32

76

51

50

18

53

76

51

50

20

31

76

53

20

22

14

Index error — — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

38 21 22

10 01 43

38 52 10

Determination of longitude, July 18, 1843 — altitudes of Jlrcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST !

SERIES.

*

SECOXD

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

j Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus.

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

A.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

89

14

30

10

45

57.0

88

29

10

47

48.5

73

50

00

11

25

36.0

87

40

45

49

57.0

73

18

40

26

54.0

87

06

10

51

22.0

! 72

44

15

28

23.0

86

41

30

52

30.0

Index error = — 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

11 08 14

1

09 45.8

C 174 ]

360

ENCAMPMENT AT BOILING SPRINGS.

Determination of longitude, July 19, 1843 — distance from the moon’s

second limb to Jupiter.

OBSERVATIONS.

Time of chronometer.

Apparent distance.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

5

39

03

59

41

30

42

27

59

43

40

44

26

59

44

30

4&

24

59

45

30

50

07

59

46

10

51

. 41

59

45

50

Index error — — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True distance.

Mean time at Greenwich.

Longitude.

ENCAMPMENT ON SOUTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude , July 21, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

78

18

10

10

48

27

78

19

20

10

50

56

78

20

20

10

52

22

78

21

40

10

54

27

78

22

50

10

55

18

78

24

10

10

57

43

78

26

50

10

59

11

78

27

00

11

01

59

78

29

60

11

05

07

78

30

40

11

06

06

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec. **

Deg. min. sec.

39 10 36

9

48 52

39 41 45

361 [ 174 J

ENCAMPMENT ON SOUTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of longitude, July 21, 1843 — altitudes of Arcturus .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double

altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double

altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus.

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

74

41

40

11

09

52.0

71

53

40

11

17

07.8

73

51

00

12

00.2

71

35

45

17

57.7

73

26

15

13

07.5

71

12

30

18

55.5

73

04

20

14

05.3

70

49

50

19

55.0

72

40

50

15

03.6

70

28

45

20

53.0

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

10 07 36

1 08 17.7

105 25 38

[ 174 ]

362

ST. VRAIN’S FORT.

Determination of latitude , July 23, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

f

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

79

49

20

11

04

32

79

49

50

06

31

79

49

00

07

44

79

51

30

10

30

79

52

30

12

21

79

56

40

15

57

79

59

15

18

06

80

00

00

20

40

80

01

50

22

39

80

02

25

24

00

Index error — — 37 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

* —

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

39 56 09

10 07 44

40 17 12

Determination of latitude , July 23, 1843 — meridian altitude of a Jtquilse.

OBSERVATION.

Double altitudes of a Aquilae.

True altitude.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

116 22 35

58 11 06

40 16 33

363

[ 174 ]

ST. VEAIN’S FORT.

Determination of time , July 23, 1843 — altitudes of Arcturus ,

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND !

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double

altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus.

Arcturus.

Deg,

. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

63

59

30

11

27

59

60

18

20

11

37

40

63

23

20

29

34

59

54

00

38

39

62

43

10

31

16

59

31

30

39

37

62

02

20

33

06

59

12

25

40

27

61

24

40

34

44

Index error = -f- 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. .min. sec.

h. min. sec.

10 28 40

1 06 32.5

Determination of time , July 24, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

53

29

50

8

28

16.4

54

42

50

8

31

26.0

53

44

50

28

54.0

54

57

50

32

08 2

54

00

20

29

35.5

55

07

50

32

34.0

54

11

50

30

05.0

55

16

50

32

56.8

54

29

25

30

51.6

55

28

15

33

26.5

Index error = -f- 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

k. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

7 24 51

1

06 10.5

C 174 ]

364

ST. VR AIN’S FORT.*

Determination of time , July 25, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

43

33

45

8 02

03.2

44

34

50

8

04

45.0

43

48

30

02

42.0

44

45

40

05

14.0

44

01

00

03

16.0

44

58

10

05

47.0

44

10

50

03

42.0

45

11

50

06

22.0

44

21

30

04

08.0

45

22

15

06

49.5

Index error = 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec .

k. min. sec.

6 58 57

1 05 31.8

* The daily losing rate of the chronometer, obtained from the observations at this place, is33".722B

365

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A HTGH PRAIRIE, BROKEN BY BUTTES AND BOTJLDRRS,
WITH SCATTERED CEDARS, FORMING THE DIVIDING GROUNDS BET WEEN
LARAMIE AND CACHE-A LA POUDRE RIVERS.

A

Determination of longitude , July 30, 1S43 — altitudes of Arcturus .

OBSERVATIONS.

Frnsx SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
Arc turns.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

47 50 00

11

40

39.5

45 46 30

11

46

07.0

46 56 40

43

00.5

45 05 40

47

55.5

46 27 40

44

15.5

44 45 20

48

50.0

Index error = -J- 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT

OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

D°g. min. sec.

10 41 18

1

03 53.2

105 35 17

Determination of latitude. July 30, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

82

20

00

11

55

14

82

21

00

57

39

Index error = -J- 1 min. 30 sec.
RESULT OP CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec .

Deg. min. sec.

41 10 00

10 52 33

41 02 19

[ 174 ]

366

ENCAMPMENT NEAR THE PRECEDING.

Determination of latitude, July 31, 1843 — meridian altitude of the sun»

OBSERVATION.

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

133 56 30

67 14 27

41

04 06

ENCAMPMENT ON LARAMIE RIVER.

Determination of latitude, July 31, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

i

FIRST SERIES.

*

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude's of

Time of chronometer.

Polaris.

Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min

sec .

h.

min.

sec.

81

30

30

10

13

25

81

41

10

10

23

51

81

30

00

15

38

81

41

45

29

43

81

32

05

17

57

81

42

00

30

32

81

32

50

19

25

81

43

00

31

40

81

35

00

21

04

81

46

40

34

35

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec .

40 47 22

9

19 19

41 15 02

367

C 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON LARAMIE RIVER.

Determination of longitude, July 31, 1843 — altitudes of Arcturus .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus

Arcturus.

De^.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

69

35

40

10

40

16.5

67

38

40

10

45

27.3

69

11

50

41

18.0

66

49

50

47

36.3

68

49

50

- •

42

16.0

66

28

20

48

35.0

68

20

50

43

35.5

65

46

10

50

27.0

68

00

00

44

30.4

65

21

30

51

30.5

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9

40 26

1 05 07.7 1

1 106 16 54

NOON HALT ON A STREAM DISCHARGING INTO A LAKE.

Determination of latitude, August 1, 1843 — meridian altitude of the sun*

OBSERVATION.

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

i

i

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

132 49 45

66 41 03

41 23 08

Index error = 4- 1 min. 30 sec.

I 174 ]

368

NOON HALT ON A FORK OF LARAMIE RIVER.
Determination of latitude, August 2, 1843 — meridian altitude of the sun,

OBSERVATION.

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

1.31 33 20

66 02 50

1

41 45 59

Index error = + 1 min. 30 sec.

ENCAMPMENT ON MEDICINE BOW RIVER.

Determination of latitude , August 2, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris,

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

83

53

40

12 14

40

83

56

30

17

15

83

56

50

18

34

83

57

20

19

50

83

58

40

21

06

84

00

00

22

11

84

00

20

23

24

84

01

15

24

15

84

02

30

25

15

84

03

30

29

18

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

41 58 12

11 14 34

41 37

16

369

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON MEDICINE BOW RIVER.

Determination of longitude , August 2, 1S43 — altitudes of Arcturus .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOXD

SERIES.

Double altitudes of Arc-

Time

of chronom-

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

turus.

eter.

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

see.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg

. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

47

12

00

11

33

58.4

42

57

30

11

45

21

46

47

50

34

58.5

42

27

50

46

40

46

13.

40

36

32.0

42

05

10

47

39

45

53

30

37

26.0

41

47

50

48

28

45

20

40

38

55.7

1 41

1

27

50

•

49

22

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

%

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

10 34 59

1 06 57. 1

Immersion of the first satellite of Jupiter.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min . sec .

Deg. min . sec.

11 01 28

9 54 31

106 48 21

24

I

[ 174 ] 370

NOON HALT ON A TRIBUTARY TO THE NORTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude , August 3, 1843— sun’s meridian altitude.

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

131 23 00

65 57 40

41 35 48

Index error = -f 1 min. 30 seer

ENCAMPMENT ON THE NORTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

4 Determination of longitude , August 5, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

see.

50

32

45

8

30

39.0

51

t 29

00

8

33

06.3

50

46

55

31

12.0

51

39

10

33

33.5

50

57

40

31

40.3

51

51

20

34

05.0

51

09

10

32

12.5

52

01

20 1

34

32.0

51

19

50

32

41.0

52

10

50 j

34

56.0

Index error = -f- 1 min. 47 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min . sec.
7 24 51

h. min. sec.

1 08 01.3

Deg. min. sec.
107 22 27

Determination of latitude — meridian altitude of the sun.

Double altitude of the sun’s
lower limb.

True central altitude.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.
130 18 45

Deg. min. sec.
65 25 37

Deg. min. sec.
41 35 59

371

[ 174 ]

NOON HALT ON A HIGH PLATEAU BETWEEN THE WATERS OF THE AT-
LANTIC AND THE GULF OF CALIFORNIA.

j Determination of latitude, August 8, 1843— meridian altitude of the sun »

Double altitude of the sun’s
lower limb.

True cential altitude.

•

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec ,
127 47 15

Deg. min. sec .
64 09 38

Deg. min. sec.
42 02 07

Index error = 1 min, 42 sec.

NOON HALT AT THE GAP IN THE SWEET WATER MOUNTAINS.

Determination of latitude, August 9, 1843 — meridian altitude of the sum

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

Deg. min. sec .

Drg. min, sec ,

Deg. min. sec.

126 36 35

63 34 30

42 20 06

Index error = -f- 1 min. 40 sec.

C n* ]

372

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SWEET WATER RIVER.
Determination of longitude , August 0, 1S43 — altitudes of Jupiter .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

•

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double

altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Jupiter.

Jupiter.

Deg.

min. sec.

h.

min .

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

51

06 10

11

30

23.6

52

18 "

30

11

36

11.3

51

25 50

31

56.5

52

32

30

37

24.4

51

40 00

33

05.0

52

45

10

'

38

24.0

51

53 30

34

12.0

52

58

30

39

28.5

52

07 50

35

18.0

53

11

00

40

33.3

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

10 28 28

1 07 14,1

Immersion of Jupiter’s first satellite .

Observed time. 1

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

12 52 23

11 45 11

107 50 25

373

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SWEET WATER RIVER.
Determination of longitude, August 9, 1S43 — altitudes of a Aquilx .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Aquilae.

Deg. min. sec.

Ill 22 40

1 11 03 20

Index error = — 30 sec.

\

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

Time of chronometer.

h.

min.

sec.

11

59

58

12

04

33

NOON HALT ON THE SWEET WATER RIVER.
Determination of latitude, Aug. 10, 1843 — meridian altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

125 40 10

1 12 52

125 40 25 %

13 43

1 25 39 50

14 26

125 39 25

15 20

125 38 20

16 12

125 38 10

16 51

125 37 20

17 37

125 37 00

18 07

I

Index error = -f- 1 min. 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

I

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec .

63 05 55

1 14 01

42 31 17

374

[ 174 ]

NOON HALT NEAR THE SOUTH PASS, ON A SAT ALL AFFLUENT TO THE
SANDY FORK OF GREEN RIVER.

Determination of latitude, August 13, 1843 — meridian altitude of the

sun.

Double altitude of the sunk

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg.

min. see.

124 14 45

52 23 25

1

42

19 53

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL STREAM TRIBUTARY TO THE LITTLE SANDY

RIVER.

Determination of longitude. August 13, 1843 — altitudes of Arc turns.

OBSERVATIONS.

PIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double

altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus.

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

69

10

00

9

56

15.0

67

35

40

10

00

30.0

68

49

50

57

10.0

67

16

20

01

23.5 *

4>8

30

20

58

01.6

66

57

45

02

13.2

68

12

10

58

52.3

66

38

50

03

05.5

67

53

50

59

40.0

66

17

30

04

03.0

Index error = — 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.*

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec .

8 48 39

1 11 27.9

109 25 55

t

375

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL STREAM TRIBUTARY TO THE LITTLE SANDY

RIVER.

Determination of latitude , August 13, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time^^hronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

83

46

10

9 41

35

83

45

40

43

10

83

47

00

44

38

83

47

10

46

04

83

48

30

47

15

83

49

50

48

22

83

51

50

50

05

83

51

50

50

58

83

52

40

51

43

83

53

30

52

39

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min.- sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min . sec.

41 53 23

8 36 12

42 18 08

[ 174 ]

376

NOON HALT ON THE LITTLE SANDY RIVER.

>. * j

Determination of latitude , August 14, 1843 — meridian altitudes of

the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the

m

sm?s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

123

39

10

1

06

46

123

41

00

07

57

123

42

05

09

06

123

44

30

10

21

123

46

00

11

41

123

46

50

12

55

123

46

45

13

33

123

48

10

14

25

123

47

55

15

23

123

48

00

J6

10

123

47

25

17

08

123

47

15

18

02

123

45

30

20

03

123

45

10

21

00

123

44

25

21

57

123

43

35

22

42

Index error = -f* 1 min- 40 sec,

;

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min . sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

62 09 52

1 16 36

42 15 11

377

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF GREEN RIVER.

Determination of longitude, August 15, 1S43 — altitudes of Arcturus .

OBSERVATIONS.

- .

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

i Double

altitudes of j

Time of chronometer.

Ajrcturus.

Arcturus.

si

Deg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

1 Deg.

min.

!

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

58

13

40

10

19

24

! 55

40

00

10

26

13.5

57

35

10

21

09

I 55

16

00

27

18.0

57

13

10

22

07

| 54

50

30

28

26.4

56

46

30

23

16

54

29

50

29

25.0

56

13

10

1

24

46

| 54

09

50

30

18.3

Index error = — 28 sec.

RESULT OP CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

r* • .

h. min. sec.
9 12 18

h. mm. sec.
1 12 56.8

Deg. min. sec.
110 05 05

Determination of latitude , August 15, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes

of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min .

, sec.

83

44

40

10 36

29

83

46

40

38

17

83

47

10

'

39

51

83

49

00

42

23

83

50

oo-

43

36

83

51

45

44

49

83

52

10

46

27

83

53

30

47

54

83

55

20

49

42

83

55

45

50

36

Index error = — 28 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

41 53 59

9 31 03

41 53 54

—

378

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF GREEN RIVER.

Determination of longitude, August 16, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

•

SECOXD

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

m

Time of chronome-

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

ter.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

18

28

20

7

18

00.4

20

05

20

7

22

32.3

18

54

40

19

17.0

20

18

30

23

09.4

19

09

10

20

00.0

20

29

20

23

37.7

19

32

00

21

02.5

20

48

10

24

30.4

19

48

50

21

49.2

21

00

50

25

05.4

Index error = 1 min. 44 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

*• ■

6 09 02

1 12^ 51.8

Determination of longitude, August, 16, 1843 — distances from the second
limb of the moon to the sun.

OBSERVATIONS WITH THE CIRCLE.

Apparent distance.

Deg. min. sec.

53 32 35

503 09 40

449 40 00

503 18 40

Time of chronometer.

h.

min.

sec.

8

16

10

20

03

30

19

37

19

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True distance.

Mean time at Greenwich.

Longitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

108 22 29

2 29 22

379

[ 174 ]

.NOON HALT ON GREEN RIVER, NEAR THE OLD TRADING HOUSE, WHERE
THE ROAD TO THE COLUMBIA LEAVES THE RIVER.

Determination of latitude, Aug. 16, 1843 — meridian altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun

’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

123

18

20

1 06

41

123

20

34

08

30

123

24

00

10

23

123

26

00

12

02

123

26

50

13

51

123

27

45

14

56

123

27

35

17

19

123

26

15

19

35

123

24

45

21

30

123

23

25

22

48

123

21

20

24

05

Index error =4-1 min. 42 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

62 00 28

1

12

37

41

46 54

ENCAMPMENT ON BLACK’S FORK OF GREEN RIVER.

Determination of latitude , August 17, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min . sec.

h. min. sec.

86 15 40

5 30 45 a. m.

86 14 30

36 08

Index error = — 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

43 06 15

4 19 52

41

37

31

Determination of longitude, August 17, 1843 — Emersion of Jupiter’s

first satellite.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec. •

5 03 11 a. m.

3 50 35

[ 174 ]

380

ENCAMPMENT ON BLACK’S FORK OF GREEN RIVER.

Determination of longitude , August 17, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

observations.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Leg.

min.

sec.

19

58

55

20

22

40

20

34

35

20

48

05

21

00

10

Time of chronometer.

h . min. sec.
7 23 03.7

24 09.0

24 42.0

25 17.4

25 52 2

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

21

20

50

21

33

35

21

45

50

22

02

25

22

15

20

Time of chronometer.

h. min. sec.

7 26 46.7

27 22.0

27 56.2

28 41.6

29 15.5

Index error == — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

6 13 46

1

12 33.2

110 10 28

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON BLACK’S FORK OF GREEN RIVER.

Determination of longitude, August 17, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

1

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

1

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronom eter.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

44 45

25

6

03

08.5

43

43

40 '

I 6

05

53.4

44 30

40

03

46.7

43

31

55

06

26.6

44 18

50

04

20.6

43

21

00

06

55.0

44 06

10

04

54.0

43

12

40

07

17.2

43 55

00

1

05

22.5

43

01

00

1

07

49.4

Index error = -+• 2 min. 07 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h. min. sec.

4

52 20

1. 13 15.7

381 [ 174 ]

second Encampment on black’s fork of green river.

Determination of longitude , August 17, 1843 — altitudes of Arcturus

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes

of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

«

Deg.

min .

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

| Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

4>9

43

30

10

07

41.0

55

04

50

10

20

07.0

* 59

00

00

09

38.0

54

40

40

21

07.0

58

34

15

10

44.5

| 54

27

40

21

47.6

58

08

15

11

56.0

54

02

50

22

49.4

57

41

10

13

C8.0

! 53

1

42

20

23

43.2

Index error == — 31 sec.

RESULT OF. CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min . sec.

9 03

05

1 13 11.3

110

25 06

Determination of latitude, August 17, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time pf chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

82

55

10

10

27

53

82

57

10

28

13

82

58

30

29

28

82

59

15

31

04

82

59

50

*

32

21

83

00

10

33

58

83

01

00

35

25

83

03

00

37

11

83

04

00

38

09

83

04

15

39

03

Index error = — 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec,

41 28 46

9 20 08

41 29 53

382

[ 174 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON BLACK’S FORK OF GRflEN RIVER.

Determination of longitude, August IS, 1843 — altitudes of a Aquilse .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Aquilse.-

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

73

51

10

2

42

38 a. m.

74

29

10

44

23

74

57

30

45

42

75

22

40

46

51

75

54

30

48

18

Index error = — 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

* >

Determination of latitude , August 18, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

mm.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

. 27

10

2

51

02 a. m.

75

28

15

52

50

75

29

25

54

59

Index error = — 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

383

[ 1*4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL STREAM TRIBUTARY TO HAM’S FORK.
Determination of longitude, August IS, 1843 — altitudes of Jupiter,

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Jupiter.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min . sec.

h. min. sec.

60 15 10

11 41 24.0

60 29 30

43 02.4

60 41 40

44 29.0

60 53 00

45 42 5

61 02 10

46 47.0

Index error = — 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

-

Determination of longitude, August 18, 1S43 — altitudes of a. Andromedse »

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Andromedse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

90

19

30

11

53

52.0

91

00

20

55

26.0

91

32

00

56

56.4

91

55

20

57

55.0

92

21

00

59

05.0

Index error = — 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

j

Mean time. ^

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min . sec.

h.

min. sec ,

Deg. min.

see.

10 42 49

1

13 49.4

110 45

58

3S4

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL STREAM TRIBUTARY TO HAM’S FORK.
Determination of latitude , » August 18, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec .

h.

min.

sec.

84

04

40

12

02

14

84

06

50

04

10

84

08

10

06

07

84

11

00

08

25

84

10

50

09

51

84

13

40

14

12

84

15

30

16

18

84

16

40

19

05

84

20

10

22

49

84

21

20

24

51

Index error = — 32 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

D°g. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

42 05 05

10 58 59

41 26 08

Determination of longitude, August 19, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h . min. sec.

21 33 40

7 30 29.6

21 47 50

31 04.6

21 59 20

31 37.3

22 16 20

32 22.3

22 32 00

33 06.5

Index error = — 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

# Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h . min. sec.

6 17 57

1 13 46.9

385

[ 174 J

NOON HALT ON THE MUDDY RIVER OF HAM’S FORK.

Determination of latitude, Aug. 19, 1843 — meridian altitudes of thesuru

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb. j Time of chronometer.

Dee;.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

121

57

10

I 12

01

121

57

30

12

57

121

57

50

13

38

121

•58

15

14

53

121

58

00

15

44

121

58

05

16

36

121

57

50

18

43

121

56

10

21

34

121

54

45

22

44

Index error = -f- 1 min. 20 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True alt.tude.

Apparent time of transit. |

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

61 . 15 19

1 17 00

41 34 25

NOON HALT ON MUDDY RIVER.

Determination of latitude, Aug. 22, 1S43 — meridian altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

[ Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer

Deg.

min.

src.

ft. min.

sec.

12!

06

10

1 11

55

121

06

55

13

08

121

'07

30

13

58

121

08

00

14

53

121

08

10

15

48

121

08

30

16

52

121

03

40

17

33

121

08

30

18

34

* 121

07

40

19

44

Index error = + 1 min. 22 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg, min. sec.
00 50 08

ft. min. sec .
1 17 02

Deg. m'n. sec.
41 39 45

25

[ 174 ]

388

NOON HALT ON BEAR RIVER.

Determination of latitude , Jiug. 2 1 , 1S43 — meridian altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes

of the sun

's lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

ter..

k .

min.

sec.

119

57

30

1

11

42

119

58

10

13

00

1 19

59

45

14

01

120

00

45

16

23

120

00

35

17

12

120

00

20

17

56

119

59

30

20

34

119

58

50

21

36

119

57

30

22

41

Index error = -f- 1 min. 20 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

T rue altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

De.”. min. src.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

60 16 15

1 17 02

41 53 55

ENCAMPMENT ON BEAR RIVER.

Determination of longitude , Ji ug. 21, 1S43 — altitudes of Arcturus .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of
Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

I

Double altitudes of
Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

mm.

sec.

58

53

10

9

55

05 5

57

33

00

57

50.0

57

22

30

59

11 0

56

31

20

10

01

22.0

55

44

20

03

34.0

Deg

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

54

43

15

10

G6

18.5

54

07

10

07

56.0

53

28

20

09

41.0

52

44

20

11

36 0

51

53

50

13

54.0

j

Index error = -f- 30 see.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
8 55 52

h. min. sec.

1 14 01.6

Deg. min. sec.
Ill 10 53

[ »74 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON BEAR RIVER.

Determination of latitude , August 21, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. mil.

sec.

81

08

20

10 10

25

84

]0

30

21

22

84

10

20

22

23

84

12

50

23

21

81

13

10

25

07

84

14

00

26

13

84

16

10

27

46

84

17

00

28

51

81

17

20

29

51

84

18

20

31

47

Index error =
RESULT OF C

= — 30 sec
CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. s'c.

h. min. sec

Dng min. sec.

CO

<o

o

9 11 42

4; 03 47

Determination of latitude , August 21, 1541 — meridian alt itudes of a

Aquilsc.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Aquilae.

Time

of chronometer.

• Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

in n.

8 C.

v v 1 12

51

10

10

53

18

112

53

40

55

51

112

53

10

57

51

112

54

00

5 9

05

112

51

55

1 l

CO '

47

112

51

00

0.4

55

112

47

20

07

21

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OE CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. m’n. sec.

56 26 06

10 . 57 4f

388

[ 174 ]

NOON HALT ON BEAR RIVER, ABOVE THOMAS'S FORK.
Determination of latitude , August 22, 1843 — meridian altitudes of the

sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. win. sec.

h. min. sec.

118 46 25

1 16 03

118 47 30

17 02

118 47 10

17 38

118 46 20

18 31

118 46 25

19 11

118 46 05

19 57

118 45 25

20 51

118 '14 40

21 53

118 43 30

22 31

Index error = -f- 1 min. 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit. .

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min . sec.

Deg.

m'n. sec.

59 39 38

1 16 19

42

10 27

NOON HALT Oft TULLICK’S FORK OF BEAR RIVER.

Determination of latitude , August 24, 1S43 — meridian altitudes of the

sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

14 6

48

35

1 14

52

116

48

40

16

22

116

48

20

18

18

116

47

30

19

44

116

46

30

20

49

Index error = -j- 1 min. 22 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

1

Latitude.

i

Deg. min. s’c.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

58 40 17

• 1.1 16 13

42 29 05

389

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON BEAR RIVER.

Determination of longitude , August 24, 1843 — altitudes of Arcturus,

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND !

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Dee;, min. sec.

! h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

: h. min. sec.

52 57 50

9 59 48

51 03 40

10 04 56.5

25 11 40

10 01 51

50 40 00

06 00.0

51 35 00

03 30

.

50 19 10

06 58.0

Index error == — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min.

sec.

h . min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

8 49

29

1 14 21.9

Ill 42 05

Detei'mination of latitude , August 24, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

I

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

I

Deg.

. min.

sec.

k.

min.

see.

85

17

20

10

10

29

85

18

50

11

45

85

18

40

12

54

85

20

00

\

13

45

85

19

20

14

35

85

23

10

16

51

85

22

20

18

19

85

24

30

20

07

85

25

20

20

58

85

26

00

S2

05

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min . sec.

Deg. min. sec.

42 39 28

9 01 50

42 36 56

[ 174 ]

390

ENCAMPMENT AT BEER SPRINGS.

Determinal ion of latitude , August 25, 1843 — meridian altitudes of

the sun.

observations.

•

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

115

43

20

1

01

42

115

43

15

11

26

115

44

10

12

27

115

44

30

13

08

115

44

50

13

47

115

45

20

14

43

- -

115

46

00

15

22

115

45

55

16

13

115

45

20

16

55

115

45

05

17

35

115

45

00

18

14

115

44

30

19

24

115

44

15

20

09

115

43

25

21

06

Index error — -f- 1 min. 20 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min . sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min . sec.

68 08 46

1 16 20

42 39 57

391

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT BEER SPRINGS.

Determination of longitude , Jin gust 25, 1SI3 — u/t it tides of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIFS.

SECOXD

SERIWS.

[Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

34

25

35

6

20

34.5

33

02

20

6

24

23.0

33

59

40

21

44.6

32

50

25

24

53.6

33

43

00

22

31 0

32

38

30

25

26 5

33

32

40

22

58.0

32

25

20

26

02 2

33

17

50

23

38.5

32

12

40

26

36.3

Index error = -j- 1 min, 20 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h

min. sec.

h.

min. 8fC.

Deg. min. src.

5

09 44

1

14 09.1

Ill 46 00

NOON HALT AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE BEAUTIFUL PASS WITH THE

REMARKABLE ROCK.

Determination of latitude , diug. 29, 1843 — meridian altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

114 02 50

1 18 23

114 02 20

19 26

|

Index error = -j- 1 min. 20 sec.

• RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

67 17 16

1 18 54

43 07 18

3S2

[ 1^4 ]

NOON HALT ON A BRANCH OF ROSEAUX, OR REED RIVER.

Determination of latitude , August 30, 1843 — meridian altitudes of

the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

r —

Double altitudes

of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

113

05

35

1 12

02

113

05

30

12

41

113

05

20

13

17

113

05

20

13

53

Index error — -}- 1 min. 22 sec.

r; \

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

56 48 46

1 11 55

42 14 22

NOON HALT AT A SWAMPY PLACE, A LITTLE DISTANCE FROM ROSEAUX

CREEK.

Determination of latitude , August 31, 1843 — meridian altitudes of the

sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

112

52

00

1

12

10

112

51

15

13

07

112

51

20

14

12

112

50

50

15

21

112

50

10

16

21

112

49

35

17

29

112

48

10

18

34

112

46

50

19

54

Index error = -4- 1 min. 20 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

56 J2 03

1 11 35

41 59 31

-

393

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE ROSEALX.

Determination of longitude , Sept. 1, 1S43 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

I

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

i

sec.

Deg. min.

sec .

k.

min.

sec.

41

39

35

5

48

08.5

1

41

25

15

48

45.4

40 31

10

5

51

11.8

41

11

50

49

23.0

39 28

30

54

01.6

41

00

50

49

52.7

40

48

50

50

24.5

Index error = + 1 min. 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
4 39 02

h. min. sec.

1 11 55.1

I

Determination of latitude, Sept. 2, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

observation.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

86 17 50

3 28 03 a. m.

Index error = — 28 sec .
RESULT OF CALCULATION

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec .

Deg. min. sec.

43 07 39

2 16 21

41 36 10

[ 174 ]

394

ENCAMPMENT ON BEAR RIVER, NEAR ITS MOUTH.

Determination of latitude , Sept. 2 , 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Dg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

83

25

40

10

01

45

83

26

10

02

53

83

27

50

03

58

83

28

20

05

13

83

29

20

06

19

Index error = — 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

41

42

23

8 52 24

41 30 27

Determination of longitude , Sept. 2, 1813 — altitudes of a Andromeda u

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of a

Time of chronometer.

j Double altitudes of a

Time of chronometer.

Andromedffl.

Andromedse.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

79 37 40

10 24 04.0

81 08 20

10 28 06.0

80 19 10

25 53.5

81 31 10

29 06.5

80 43 40

27 03.0

81 48 20

29 52.5

Index error == + 1 rain. 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

9 15 39

1 11 39.4

•

395

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON BEAR RIVER, NEAR ITS MOUTH.
Determination of latitude, Sept. 2, 1843 — meridian altitudes of ajJQuihe.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Aquilsc.

I

Time of chronometer.

Des;.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

src.

1 13

59

50

10

14

15

113

56

20

16

12

113

55

10

17

32

113

53

20

19

00

113

50

40

20

18

Index error = — 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

57 00 38

k. min. sec.
10 08 14

Determination of longitude, September 2, 1S43-

third satellite.

—emersion of Jupiter’s

Observed time. ,

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

10 51 56

h. min. sec.

9 43 14

Emersion of Jupiter’s fourth satellite.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

11 03 29

1

h. min. sec.

9 51 47

Emersion of Jupiter’s second satellite.

Observed time.

!

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec. k. min. sec.

12 00 17 10 48 36.5

C 174 3

396

ENCAMPMENT ON BEAR RIVER, NEAR ITS MOUTH.
Determination of longitude, September 3, 1S43 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOXB SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb .

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

46

40

35

8

50

05.0

47

54

00

8

53

23.5

46

55

50

50

46.7

48

03

50

53

62.2

47

09

10

51

22.0

48

15

25

54

22.3

47

27

15

52

13.5

48

24

35

54

48.0

47

42

40

52

54.6

48

37

55

55

25.3

Index error = -f- 1 min. 25 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

1

Advance.

Longitude.

*

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

7 41 27

1 11 28.6

112 15 46

ENCAMPMENT AT THE MOUTH OF BEAR RIVER.

Determination of latitude, Sept . 3, 1843 — meridian altitudes of the sun

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb. J Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Ill

40

35

1

07

46

111

41

10

09

00

111

41

35

10

01

111

41

35

10

57

111

40

40

12

17

111

40

40

•

13

03

111

40

25

13

50

111

39

30

14

51

Index error = -f- l min. 25 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

56 06 37

1 10 39

41 30 17

397

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE MOUTH OF BEAR RIVER.

Determination of latitude, September 3, 1843 — meridian altitudes of a

dt guilds.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a A quilse.

Time of chronometer.

J Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

114 00 40

10 06 00

114 00 *20

07 15

113 59 20

08 50

113 57 15

'10 57

^ 113 55 10

12 54

Index error = -j- 1 min. 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

1

] Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

D“g. min. sec.

|

h. min. sec.

57 00 48

10 01 03

Determinat ion of latitude , September 3, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

T.nr.e of chronometer.

Deg. min. see.

h. min. sec.

83 39 dO

10 15 58

83 41 15

17 29

83 42 10

18 49

83 43 00

20 00

83 41 40

21 26

Index error = 4- I min. 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

| Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min.

sec.

//. min. sec .

. Deg. min. sec.

4l 50

42

9 07 20

41 30 22

C 174 ]

3.9S

ENCAMPMENT AT THE MOUTH OF BEAR RIVER.

Determination of longitude, September 3, 1843 — altitudes of Jlrcturus .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Arc: urns.

Time

of chronometer.

Bzg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec. '

38

21

50

9

56

15.0

37

48

2:)

57

47.0

37

24

40

. 58

50. 0

36

56

20

io_

00

05.5

36

34

50

:

01

05.0

36

00

50

02

39.0

I

Index error = 1 min. 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

li. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

8 48 04

1 11 23.2

112 21 20

Emersion of Jupiter’s first satellite.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

1

h. min. src.

h. min. see.

r

Deg. min. sec.

9 37 40

9 26 16

1 1 2 17 40

Mean longitude 112° 19' 30".

\

309

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON WEBER’S FORK.

Determination of longitude, Sept. 7, 1S43 — altitudes of the snru

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Dg.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Dei?.

min.

S'T.

h.

m>n.

sec.

39

2,7 20

8

3 1

25.0

40

30

10

8

31

13.4

39

40 00

31

59.2

40

40

20

34

43.0

39

53 45

32

34.5

* 40

51

40

35

12.4

40

09 00

33

16.0

41

03

25

35

41.3

40

19 00

33

44.2

41

13

50

36

11.5

Index error ^ + I min. 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION,

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude

h. min. sec.

h. m'n. fee-

Dei;, min. ser.

7 25 22

1 08 32.4

112 06 43

Determination of latitude, Sept . 7, 1843 — meridian altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes

of the

i

sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

see.

h. m’n.

sec .

109

09

10

1 02

54

109

09

35

03

52

109

09

30

05

53

109

09

55

06

56

109

09

30

08

03

309

09

25

08

41

109

08

55

09

28

109

08

20

JO

1 l

. 109

07

50

1 1

02

109

07

00

11

56

Index error = -J- 1 min. 32 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

V"

Deg. min. sec.

54 51 01

h. min. sec.
1 06 14

Deg. min. sec.
41 15 50

[ 174 ]

400

ENCAMPMENT ON WEBER’S FORK.

Determination of longitude, Sept. 7, 184 3 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

l

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deer.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

see.

41

36

b5

5

34

58.5

40

37

50

5 37

37.7

41

18

30

35

46.0.

40

27

45

38

01.4

41

07

10

36

16.7*

40

19

10

38

28.2

40

56

40

36

46.5

40

08

35

33

56.8

40

46

30

37

13.6

40

1 .

00

50

39

17.5

Index error = l*min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

li. m>n. sec.

4 29 06

1. 08 14.4

ENCAMPMENT ON WEBERS FORK, VERY NEAR THE MOUTH.
Determination of longitude, Sept. 8, 1S43 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

. . . FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES,

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometef.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun's lower limb

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

see.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

44

07

50

5 • 26

14.0

43

13

50

5

28

41.5

43

54

55

26

49.5

43

02

55

29

10.0

. 43

42

50

27

21.7

42

52

45

29

3#8 0

43

33

00

27

49.0

42

43

30

30

02.8

43

23

55

23

13.3

42

29

10

30

4. '.5

Index error = -f- 1 min. 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h . min. src.

h. min. see.

Deg. min. src.

4 20 27

1 08 00.9

1 IS 11 30

401

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON WEBER’S FORK, VERY NEAR THE MOUTH.

Determination of latitude, September S, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris,

observations.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

JJeg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

83

12

10

10

04

02

83

14

20

06

37

83

15

30

03

24

83

17

00

10

41

83

18

20

12

42

Time of chronometer.

Index error = -p 1 min. 40 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

!

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec . ,

Deg. min. sec.

41 37 28

9 00 35

%

41 11 26

ON THE ISLAND IN THE GREAT SALT LAKE.

Determination oj latitude , Sept. 9, 1843 — meridian altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

107 46 10

0 59 23

107 47 35 ‘

1 00 18

107 48 20

01 48

107 49 10

02 49

107 * 49 15

03 29

107 49 20

04 21

107 49 30

05 08

107 49 10

06 00

107 49 00

06 56

107 48 45

07 51

107 48 45

08 43

107 47 30

09 28

107 47 00

10 42

107 45 40

11 44

Index error = 1 min. 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

^Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

54 10 51

1 05 23

41 10 42

[ 174 ]

102

ON THE ISLAND IN THE GREAT SALT LAKE.
Determination of longitude , September 9, 1843 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer. |

Double alti tudes of

i Time of chronometer.

Arcturus-

I

|

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec. j

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

58

58

50

S 33

53.0

54 53 50 |

8

44

47.0

58

05

10

36

18.5 1

54 22 50 j

46

04.6

57

29

40

37

50.5 \

53 59 00

47

09.2

56

53

40

39

29.6 !

53 28 00 1

48

33.0

56

20

20

40

54.0

1

52 49 50

1

50

13.0

Index error «= -f- i min. 40 sec.

RESULT OP CALCULATION.

Mean time,

Advance.

Longitude.

It. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg, min. sec.

7 34 29

1 08 02.6

112 21 05

NOON HALT IN THE MUD.

Determination of latitude , Sept. 10, 1843 — meridian altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

I ■

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

see.

106

56

50

1 01

43

106

57

20

02

55

106

57

15

04

14

106

56

50

05

24

106

56

50

06

31

106

55

55

07

40

106

54

10

10

04

106

53

20

10

42

Index error £= 1 min. 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

! Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sees.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

53 44 42

• 1

1 04 16

41

14 17

403

[ *74 ]

ENCAMPMENT OF SEPTEMBER 7.

Determination of time, September 11, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND !

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the |

1" .

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

!

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

i

sec . i

h.

min.

sec. .

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

39

19

10

5

32

05.6

38

17

50

5

34

48.4

39

05

20 ;

32

41.5

38

03

50

35

26.7

38

53

20 1

33

12.7

37

53

20

35

55.0

38

40

50

33

45.5

37

43

10

36

22.5

38

29

10 ,

34

17.7

37

29

20

37

02 3

Index error = -p 1 min. 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

4 28 35

1 . 05 59.1

Determination of time, September 12, IS43 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST i

SERIES.

|

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

1

i Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

48

50

40

8

59

39.5

49

42

00

9

01

59.4

49

03

45

9

00

14.0

49

50

00

02

T 22.0

49

14

20

00

43.2

49

57

50

02

44.6

49

23

00

01

06.4

50

08

00

|

03

12.4

49

32

40

01

34.5

50

17

35

i *

03

40.3

Index error = + 1 min. 40 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

* k.

min. sec.

h. min. sec .

7

56 02

1 05 41.7

The daily losing rate of the chronometer, obtained from the observations at this place, is 33, 72

seconds.

404

[ 1^4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON BEAR RIVER, SOUTH OF THE GAP— A MAIN STATION.

Determination of longitude, Sept. 13, 1S43 — altitudes of a Jiquilx.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

88 10 15

11 41 40

87 52 50

42 35

87 32 30

43 42

87 07 40

45 07

86 48 00

46 08

Index error — -f- 1 rain. 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

Immersion of t Jlrietis at the moon’s bright limb .

Observed time.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h. min. sec.

12

30 43

7 31 16.5

Emersion of t' Arietis.

Observed time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

12 17 39

7 28 20.8

To this station, as determined by the emersion of t Arietis, are referred, by chronometric differ-
ences,'the longitudes from St. Vrain’s fort to the Dalles of the Columbia.

i

405

[ 174 }

ENCAMPMENT ON BEAR RIVER, SOUTH OF THE GAP— A MAIN STATION.
Determination of longitude , September 13, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrse .

OBSERV

ATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Lyra;.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

80 49 00

12 31 49.5

80 06 20

33 51.5

79 12. 00

36 27.0

Index error = -f- l min. 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

Determination of longitude , September 14, 1843 — altit udes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

42

12

00

5

16

18.5

40

24

15

5

21

21.3

4i

48

30

17

24.7

40

10

20 !

21

59.7

41

18

05

18

50.3

39

59

15 !

22

29.2

41

04

00

19

28.0

39

48

10

23

00.4

40

48

25

20

12.4

39

37 ‘

30

23

30.4

Index error = 4- 1 min. 39 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

t 1 7.4 3 406

ENCAMPMENT ON ROSEAUX, OR REED RIVER.

Deter initiation of longitude, September 15, 1843 — altitudes of the sun,

OBSERVATIONS.

first

SERIES.

*•

|

SECOND

SEKIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

| Time of chronometer.

!

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer,.

Deg.

min.

sec.

A.

min .

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec .

47

31

25

4

58

54.5

46

05

10

5

02

56.0

47

15

00

j

59

39.2

45

50

30

03

38.3

47

02

30

5

00

14.0

45

39

20

04

09.8

46

48

00

00

55.0

45

18

10

05

10.0

46

25

10

1

01

59.5

45

01

50

1

05

56.0

Index error = -{- 1 rain. 38 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

A. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

3 58 00

;

1 04 21.8

1

112 15 04

Determination of latitude, Sept. 1 5, 1843 — meridian altitude of a-Jiquilse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

A.

min.

sec.

112

22

30

9

01

20

112

24

10

03

21

112

26

40

05

01

112

28

40

08

45

112

27

40

10

01

112

28

30

11

07

112

27

20

13

26

112

26

10

1

14

52

112

24

'40

16

08

112

22

30

17

31

Index error = -{- 1 min. 34 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

Deg. min . sec.

56 15 20

9 08 51

42 13 26

407

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON ROSEAUX, OR REED RIVER.

Determination of latitude , September 15, 1343 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

85 03 50

9 20 41

85 05 . 20

22 09

85 06 30

23 17

85 07 00

24 48

85 09 00

26 12

Index error = -f- 1 min. 34 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

42

32

51

8 19 10

42 12 57

ENCAMPMENT ON PANNACK RIVER.

Determination of longitude , September 17, 1S43 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec. \

h.

min.

sec.

47

20

40

4 54

22.0

46

23

00 !

4

57

07.4

47

07

50

54

58.3

46

12

20 i

57

39.4

46

56

20

55

32.5

45

59

10

58

15.6

46

46

50

55

58.2

45

48

00

58

48.0

46

38

15

56

22.0 #

1

Index error = -f- I min. 35 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min . sec.

3 52 28

1 04 14.1

112 29 52

C 174 ]

408

ENCAMPMENT ON PANNACK RIVER.
Determination of latitude , Sept. 17, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

85

37

30

8

34

55

85

38

20

36

01

85

38

40

. 37

28

85

39

30

38

43

85

41

10

39

53

85

41

00

41

29

85

43

10.

42

57

85

44

15

43

55

85

45

20

44

54

85

46

00

46

31

Index error =3+1 min. 36 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

42 50 30

7 36 37

42 44 25

Determination of latitude. Sept. 17,1843 — meridian altitudes of a Aquilse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Aquilse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Ill 12 50

8 49 41

111 17 50

51 41

111 21 20

54 18

111 22 10

55 40

111 23 50

57 10

111 25 20

9 00 08

111 26 00

02 33

111 25 15

04 06

111 25 10

05, 34

111 24 00

07 13

111 21 55

08 59

Index error = + 1 min. 36 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

55 42 02

9 01 41

42 44 45

409

r 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON PANNACK RIVER.

Determination of longitude, September IS, 1813 — altitudes of a Lyrse*

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Lyrae. •

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

— .

55

51

30

1

31

44.0 a. m-

55

23

20

33

05.2

54

53

20

34

40.0

54

26

30

36

00.4

53

52

10

37

54.0

53

32

50

39

22.0

Index error = + 1 min. 39 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

1

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
0 31 15

h. min. sec.

1 04 12.8

1 ... , " ~

Emersion of Jupiter's first satellite.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

1 20 21

0 16 08

i

112 32 21

[ 174 ]

410

AT FORT HALL.

Determination of longitude , September 21, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOXD

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time

of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time

of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

hi

min.

sec.

56

29

00

9

34 22.0

57

16

00

9

36

47.2

56

40

00

34 55.5

57

24

00

37

11.0

56

51

50

35 31.4

57

31

10

37

34.3

57

01

35

36 01.2

57

39

10

37

59.4

57

07

15

36 21.4

57

47

10

38

24.3

Index error = -f- 1 min. 37 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

8 34 20

1 02 11.5

112 29 54

411

[ 174 ]

AT FORT HALL.

Determination of latitude, September 21, 1S43 — meridian attitudes of

the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the

sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec A

94

45

00

0

43

26

•94

45

55

44

04

94

47

20

44

52

94

47

50

45

37

94

48

20

46

08

94

49

30

46

51

94

50

00

47

25

94

51

00

48

02

94

51

20

48

40

94

52

00

49

33

94

53

40

51

26

94

53

30

51

58

94

53

40

52*

31

94

54

20

53

12

94

54

00

53

50

94

54

10

54

45

94

53

55

55

21

94

53

55

56

12

94

54

00

56

43

94

53

40

57

21

94

53

00

58

52

94

52

25

59

31

94

51

45

1

00

29

94

51

20

01

09

94

50

50

01

58

94

49

40

02

45

94

48

50

03

35

94

A.

47

50

04

13

Index error = 1 min 37 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

47 43 08

0 55 11

43 01 30

412

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER, ABOVE THE AMERICAN FALLS.

Determination of latitude , September 24, 1843 — meridian altitudes of

the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the

sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

92

57

05

0 45

34.0

92

57

50

46

26 •

92

58

25

47

19

92

59

15

48

24

93

00

10

49

28

93

00

10

50

21

93

00

15

51

12

93

00

50

52

14

93

00

35

53

04

93

00

30

53

58

92

59

40

55

04

93

00

05

55

51

92

'69

40

56

36

92

59

20

57

21

92

58

30

58

09

92

57

50

59

02

Index error — 1 rain. 47 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min. sec.

46

46

22

0

53

00

42 48 02

413

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER, ABOVE THE AMERICAN FALLS.

Determination of longitude , September 24, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERf ATIONS.

FIItST SERIES.

SECOND !

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

j Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

35

07

50

5

12

22.8

33

46

50

5 16

13.4

34

52

00

13

06.4

33

27

20

17

08.0

34

39

25

13

44.5

33

10

40

17

56.5

34

25

00

14

24.0

33

00

to

18

26.0

34

00

25

15

36.0

32

47

00

19

04.2

Index error = + 1 rain. 47 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Dg.

min. sec.

4 14 58

1

00 50.7

112

40 13

Determination of latitude , September 24, 1843 — meridian altitudes of

a Aquilse. “ *

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Aquilse.

Time of chronotneter.

Deg. min.

»

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

Ill

18

10

8

25

21

111

19

20

26

50

111

20

25

28

28

111

20

50

30

14

111

20

20

32

03

111

20

'20

34

05

111

18

20

35

24

111

17

50

36

37

111

16

00

38

43

Index error = -f- 1 min. 45 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

k. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

55 40 41

8 30 08

42 47 05

414

r 1^4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER, ABOVE THE AMERICAN FALLS.
Determination of latitude , September 24, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

86 16 00

8 46 21

86 17 20

48 22

86 18 20

49 35

86 19 40

51 49

. 86 2L 40

54 1 1

Index error = 4-1 min. 45 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

43 09 08 •

7 49 19

42 47 05

NOON HALT ON SNAKE RIVER.

Determination of latitude, Sept. 28, 1843 — meridian altitudes of the sun »

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

89

42

50

*0

55

08

89

43

15

55

56

89

43

00

56

40

89

42

40

57

15

89

42

10

57

56

' 89

41

50

58

32

89

41

10

59

17

89

40

00

1

00

12

89

37

45

02

00

89

35

20

03

41

Index error = 4-1 min. 45 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg.

min. see.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

45

07 24

0

54 26

42 29 56

415 [ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON ROCK CREEK OF SNAKE RIVER.
Determination of latitude , September 29, 1843— altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. see.

86 05 40

9 09 53

86 07 10

11 27

86 08 00

12 25 '

86 08 50

13 22

86 “ 10 40

14 42

86 10 40

15 44

86 11 25

16 50

86 13 50

18 43

86 13 50

19 52

86 15 10

21 31

Index error = 4- I min. 45 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude,

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

43 05 06

8 11 40

42 26 21

Determination of longitude, Sept. 29, 1843 — altitudes of a Andromedse.

OBSERVATIONS.

I

Double altitudes of a

Andromedae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

100

16

10

9

25

33

100

45

40

26

53

101

17

50

28

21

Index error 1 min. 45 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

*

8 23 08

1 03 47.0

■

416

[ 1^4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER, OPPOSITE TO THE RIVER SPRINGS.
Determination of longitude , September 30, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the

sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

see.

h.

min.

sec.

25

30

00

8

14

58.7

25

57

50

16

16 0

26

15

40

17

07.0

27

08

30

19

39.0

27

46

00

21

’ 24.5

Index error = -}- 1 min. 45 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

-

-

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

^ h. min . sec.

7 14 16

h. min. sec.

1 03 37 3

Deg. min. sec.

1 14 25 04

Determination of latitude, September 30, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris

Deg min. sec.

86 58 40

87 00 ‘ 25

87 00 50

87 01 50

87 02 30

87 03 20

87 04 00

87 05 25

87 05 20

87 „ 07 30

Index error = -}- 1 min. 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec .

43 31 18

8 49 51

42 38 44

Time of chronometer.

min.

sec .

48

23

49

55

51

01

52

33

53

42

55

02

56

02

57

23

58

27

00

57

/

417

[ 174 J

ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER, OPPOSITE TO THE RIVER SPRINGS.
Determination of longitude, Sept. 30, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrx.

OBSERVATIONS.

i ’

Double altitudes of a Lyr®. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

?nin.

sec.

101

39

00

10

27

50.5

101

02

20

29

31.5

100

36

10

30

45.4

Index error = 1 min. 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

9 24 52

1 04 30.8

1

ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER, TWO MILES BELOW FISHING FALLS.
Determination of latitude, October 1,1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

, OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. j Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

87

20

40

10

13

44

87

21

10

15

05

87

22

40

16

48

87

23

10

18

20

87

24

20

19

24

87

25

10

21

06

87

26

00

22

28

87

26

40

23

27

87

27

30

24

42

87

27

50

25

42

Index error = -}- 1 min. 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Deg, min . sec.
43 42 00

Mean time.

Latitude.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min . sec.

9 15 28

42 40 11

27

418

r 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER, TWO MILES BELOW FISHING FALLS.
Determination of longitude, October 1, 1S43 — altitudes of » Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

8ERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a

Lyrse.

a

Lyrae.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

99

21

30

10

30

24.0 i

97

28

15

10 35

42.0

98

56

00

31

36.0

97

06

30

36

42.6

98

35

20

32

33.0

96

43

50

37

45.0

98

18

10

33

23.0

96

27

20

38

31.0

97

58

30

34

15.4

95

50

50

40

14.0

Index error = -f- 1 min. 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude,

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9 30 29

1 04 37.7

114 35 12

ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER.

Determination of latitude, October 2, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

4

observations.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

87 56 10

10 25 48

87 57 40

27 28

87 58 10

28 38

•87 59 10

29 47'

87 59 25

31 03

88 01 05

32 37

88 01 00

33 43

88 01 30

35 08

88 02 50

36 28

88 03 20

37 39

I

Thermometer 50°.

Index error = -f- 1 min. 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION,

. —

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

43 59

46

9 26 35

42 53 40

419

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER.

Determination of longitude , October 2, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrae.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a Lyrae.

a

Lyrae.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

92

55

15

10

45

28.4

90

53 40

10 51

09.5

92

26

20

46

49.0

90

29 40

52

19 0

91

59

40

48

07.0

90

06 20

53

24.7

91

36

30

49

10.0

89

46 15

54

22.0

91

16

50

50

05.3

89

22 00

55

31.0

Thermometer 48°. 5.

Index error =4-1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9 45 23

1 05 15.3

1 14 53 04

ENCAMPMENT AT THE FORD WHERE THE ROAD CROSSES SNAKE RIVER,

Determination of latitude , October 3 , 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

87 50 10

10 04 19

87 51 50

05 52

87 52 50

07 14

87 53 50

09 03

87 54 10

10 31

87 55 20

11 58

87 56 45

13 38

87 57 30

15 24

87 58 30

17 08

87 59 25

• 18 54

Index error = 4-1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec •

43 57 15

9 05 57

42 55 68

420

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE FORD WHERE THE ROAD CROSSES SNAKE RIVER.
Determination of longitude, October 3, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrx.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg

. min.

sec.

A.

min.

sec.

95

05

20

10

35

’43.4

92

56

45

10

41

42.0

94

39

30

36

54.3

92

30

30

42

58.0

94

12

10

38

12.0

92

05

10

44

10.4

93

50

50

39

11.0

91

41

00

45

17.0

93

24

50

40

24.5

91

11

50

46

39.0

Index error = -f- 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg. min .

sec.

1 9 35 38.29

1 05

28.9

115 04

46

Emersion of the first satellite of Jupiter.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Observed time.

Advance.

Longitude.

k. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

11 30 42

1 05 30.3

115 19 24

421

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON BIG WOOD RIVER, OR RIVIERE BOISEE.

Determination of longitude, October 7, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

lower limb of the sun.

lower limb of the sun.

✓

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

36

22

55

4

46

24.0

35

28

50

4

49

11.0

36

10

00

47

03.6

35

20

35

49

36.8

36

01

05

47

31.0

35

02

00

50

35.3

35

48

20

48

08.7

34

53

30

51

00.5

35

39

25

48

37.8

34

45

20

51

25.0

Index error = + 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

3

42 14

1

06 42.3

115 54

46

Determination of latitude, October 7, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris, ( with

the sextant.)

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

88

21

40

8

38

54

88

22

30

40

49

88

24

20

42

49

88

25

25

44

14

88

/

26

40

45

15

Index error == -f- 1 min. 30 sec. #

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

44 11 49

7 35 48

43 35 33

422

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON BIG WOOD RIVER, OR RIVIERE BOIS&E.

Determination of latitude, October 7, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris, {with

the circle.)

OBSERVATIONS.

Circle readings.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

664

38

20

8

57

19

177

17

20

9

02

33

104

03

30

07

35

354

52

20

10

58

281

43

40

13

51

532

33,

00

19

26

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

44 21 45

8 02 01

43 35 08

Mean latitude 43 deg. S5 min. 21 sec.

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON BIG WOOD RIVER.

Determination of latitude , October S, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris, ( with

the sextant .)

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

88 35 50

8 40 39

88 37 00

42 24

88 38 20

43 36

88 39 40

46 58

88 41 10

48 17

88 42 10

49 27

88 43 20

50 45

88 44 40

52 41

88 46 10

54 05

88 46 20

■ — 1

55 42

Index error = 4" 1 min. 30 sec.
Thermometer 50°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

44 20 29

7

40 34

43 51

05

423

[ 174 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON BIG WOOD RIVER.

Altitudes of Polaris, ( with the circle.) October 8, 1843.

Circle readings. j Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

9

04

35

177

49

50

09

28

12

03

355

52

20

14

08

15

29

533

55

40

17

05

19

12

712

06

20

20

38

23

45

170

17

30

26

44

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

1

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

44 29 53

8 08 26

43 40

42

s — .A —

Mean latitude 43 deg. 40 min. 53 sec.

[ 174 ]

424

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON BIG WOOD RIVER.
Determination of longitude, October 8, 1843 — altitude of a Lyrse .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of
a Lyrse.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of
a Lyrse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Def • min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Ill 14 50

9 34 06

95 54 00

10 17 09.5

interrupted by

clouds. -

Thermometer 47°. 5.

Determination of longitude — altitudes of a Jlquilse .

OBSERVATIONS.

— -

Double altitudes of

a Aquilse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

—

80

31

00

10

24

05.0

80

12

20

25

04.4

79

52

20

26

09.0

Index error = 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9 17 16

1 07 49.7

116 22 40

j

425

C 174 ]

AT FORT BOISEE.

Determination of latitude , October 10, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris , (with

the sextant.)

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

89

17

40

9

10

55

89

18

30

12

07

89

19

50

13

55

89

21

20

15

48

89

22

20

17

22

89

23

10

18

28

89

24

20

19

56

89

25

30

22

14

89

27

00

23

57

89

27

50

25

15

Index error = -{- 1 min. 30 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

44 41 09

8 09 44

43 48 54

Altitudes of Polaris, ( with the circle}) October 10, 1S43.

OBSERVATIONS.

Circle readings.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

9

40

22

179

27

40

42

42

44

55

359

01

30

45

55

47

50

538

28

00

49

13

51

50

713

00

50

56

05

58

02

177

39

20

59

52

Thermometer 50°.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

44 51 59

8 41 26

43 49 51

Mean latitude 43 deg. 49 min. 32 sec.

[ 174 ]

426

AT FORT BOISEE.

Determination of longitude , October 10, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrse .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of !

Time of chronometer.

a

Lyrae.

a

Lyra.

Deg.

min.

sec .

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

94

32

20

L0

13

44.0

92

34

00

10

19

21.0

94

02

50

15

07.5

92

15

50

20

12.7

93

44

40

16

00.0

91

57

30

21

05.0

93

24

10

16

58.0

91

37

40

22

02.0

92

56

00

18

16.6

91

19

40

22

52.7

Index error = 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h . min. set.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9 10 17

1 08 16.8

116 47 00

Emersion of Jupiter's first satellite .

Jupiter about 10° high; moon bright; night very clear; the planet a little yellow, with a mist of
the horizon; observation good.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min . sec.

h. min. sec.

1 23 12 a. m.

0 14 59.6 a. m.

ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER, BELOW BIRCH CREEK.

Determination of longitude , October 12, 1843 — emersion of the first

satellite of Jupiter .

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

%

h. min . sec.

Deg. min. sec <

7 50 23

6 42 25.1

117 10 19

427

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON SNAKE RIVER, BELOW BIRCH CREEK.

Determination of latitude , October 12, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

90

11

40

8

56

58

90

12

10

58

19

90

13

50

59

53

90

14

00

9

01

05

90

15

15

02

09

90

16

30

i

03

41

90

17

20

05

28

90

17

50

06

54

90

19

20

08

35

90

20

50

10

31

Index error =4-1 min. 28 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.
45 07 42

Deg. min. sec.

7 55 25

Deg. min. sec.

44 17 36

Determination of longitude, October 12, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a Lyrae.

a

Lyrae.

..

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

87

02

00

10

27

47.0

85

17

30

10

32

49.5

86

36

10

29

01.7

*84

59

25

33

41.0

86.

14

30

30

04.0

84

42

00

34

34.0

85

52

50

31

07.3

84

23

40

35

26.0

85

34

30

32

00.0

84

06

20

36

16.0

Thermometer 40°.

Index error =+ 1 min. 28 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

9 24 22

1

07 55.1

428

[ H4 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE HEAD WATERS OF BURNT RIVER.
Determination of latitude , October 14, 1843 — altitudes of Pola?'is.

OBSERVATIONS.

Doable altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

91 07 10

9 13 21

91 08 45

15 22

91 09 50

17 03

91 10 50

18 13

91 11 20

19 13

91 11 45

20 17

91 13 10

21 47

91 13 30

22 44

91 14 40

23 41

91 15 40

25 00

Index error = -J- 1 min. 28 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

45 35 37

8

11 58

44 37 34

•

Determination of longitude, October 14, 1843 — altitudes of a jiquilx.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a

Aquilae.

a

Aquilae.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec. «

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

88

18

10

9

29

03.0

87

00

15

9

33

55.4

87

59

20

30

12.0

86

42

10

>

35

00.5

87

45

15

31.

06.0

86

27

10

35

55.2

87

32

00

31

56.3

86

12

00

36

52.0

87

15

50

32

56.0

85

57

30

37

45.0

Thermometer 44°.

Index error = + 1 min. 28 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

_

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
8 25 46

h. min. sec.
1 07 41.9

Deg. min. sec.
117 09 49

429 [ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE OLD BED OF POWDER RIVER.

Determination of longitude, October 15, 1S43 — immersion of the third

satellite of Jupiter.

Emersion of the third satellite of Jupiter.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h.

min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

7

07

04

5 58 54

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

k. min. sec.

10 30 02

h. min. sec.

9 30 56

Determination of latitude, Octobeg 15, IS43 — altitudes of Polaris,

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

91

36

10

9 14

49

91

38

00

16

35

91

38

50

17

57

91

39

00

19

23

91

40

10

21

34

91

42

10

22

55

91

42

40

24

43

91

44

00

25

54

91

44

10

27

09

91

45

30

29

06

Time of chronometer.

Index error = 4-1 min. 26 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec .

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec*

45 50 18

8 13 54

44 50 32

[ 174 ]

430

ENCAMPMENT ON THE OLD BED OF POWDER RIVER.
Determination of longitude , October 15, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrae*

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a Lyrse.

a Lyrae.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

92

13

10

10

01

57.3

90

28

20

10

07

01.0

91

50

30

03

00.0

90

06

10

08

04.5

91

30

45

03

57.6

89

46

45

09

00.7

91

14

00

04

47.0

89

26

40

10

00.0

90

50

25

05

54.6-

89

1

04

00

11

05.0

Index error =4-1 min. 26 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

8 58 23

1 08 06.0

117 24 21

ENCAMPMENT ON POWDER RIVER.

Determination of longitude, October 16, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

54

08

00

10

29

45.5

54

17

40

30

28.0

54

28

30

*

31

14.0

54

37

40

31

52.5

54

43

30

32

20.4

Index error = 1 min- 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h . min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9 23 14

1

07 54.0

117 29 22

431

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON POWDER RIVER.

Determination of lati(ude, October 16, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

91

09

20

8 05

05

91

10

40

06

33

91

11

00

07

24

91.

11

50

08

27

91

13

10

10

18

Index error == + 1 min. 26 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min . sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

45 35 22

6 59 38

44 59 29

Determination of longitude , October 16, 1S43 — altitudes of a Jlndromedx.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a

Andromedae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.
■ 97

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

36

50

8 16

58.0

98

06

40

18

23.0

98

42

00

20

04.0

Index error = -j- 1 min. 26 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 10 33

1 07 55.3

[ 174 1

ENCAMPMENT IN THE GRAND ROND.

Determination of latitude, October 18, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

93 00 25

9 19 56

93 01 30

21 55

93 02 20

23 14

93 02 30

24 33

93 03 30

25 45

Index error = -f- 1 min. 23 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

\

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec .

46 30 48

8 16 20

45 26 47

Determination of longitude, October 18, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Lyra e.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec. j

98 37

00

9

30

58.0

98 06

30

32

27.0

97 42

40

33

36.0

Index error = -f- 1 min. 23 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec .

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

8 25 36

1 06 42.8

117 28 26

ton
-i - >

e:c"a:.:?me:\t ox the blue mountains, east of the summit.
Deli.r.iiiaatiun if lUngiluJe, 0 closer 19, 181 A — uililudes of a Lyn

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SEcoxn

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
a Lyr ae.

Time of chronometer.

D:g.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

De<r.

, min.

sec.

Ti.

min.

sec.

67

20

40

11

00

04.5

64

35

20

11

08

38.0

66

53

10

01

3G.0

64

12

40

09

51.0

66

30

10

02

41.0

63

50

40

11

OO.o

65

50

50

04

46.5

63

31

00

12

02.4

64

59

00

07

27.5

62

56

30

13

51.4

Index error = -f- 1 min. 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
10 01 03

Jl. 7/lT'i . see.

1 06 08.0

De?. min. s'c.
117 28 34

Emersion of Jupiter’s first satellite.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

it

•s-

g ^

5s cs

h. min. sec.
8 31 54

»

28

[ 174 ] 434

ENCAMPMENT ON THE BLUE MOUNTAIN?, EAST OF THE SUMMIT.
Determination of latitude , October 19, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

94

13

20

11

18

53

94

12

20

20

48

94

13

40

23

01

94

13

50

25

15

94

15

20

26

43

94

15

00

28

56

94

15

30

30

24

94

15

30

32

00

94

15

50

33

20

94

15

50

34

59

Time of chronometer.

Index error = -f- 1 min. 25 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec .

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. s<? c.

47 07 07

10 21 18

45 38 07

ENCAMPMENT ON WALAHWALAH RIVER, AT THE FOOT OF THE MOUN-
TAINS.

Determination of latitude , October 23, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

93 38 30

8 34 52

93 39 40

36 32

93 40 20

37 37

93 41 10

38 39

93 41 20

39 37

Index error = 1 min. 22 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION. *

True altitude.

Deg. min. sec.

46 49 52

Mean time.

min. sec.
31 21

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec .

45 53 35

435

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON WALAHWALAH RIVER, AT THE FOOT OF THE MOUN-
TAINS.

Determination of longitude , October 23, IS43 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Lyr*.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

108 09 30

8 43 29

107 47 10

44 36

107 23 30

45 47

106 33 00

48 09

106 10 50

49 il

Index error = + I rain. 22 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

k. min. see.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

7 40 08

1 06 06.3

118 00 39

AT FORT NEZ PERCE.

Determination of latitude , Oct. 26, 1S43 — meridian altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. mm.

sec.

62

20

20

0 37

43

62

21

50

38

35

62

23

30

39

33

62

24

45

40

49

62

25

10

41

35

62

25

45

42

26

62

26

40

43

14

62

27

25

45

10

62

38

30

48

13

62

28

35

49

11

62

29

10

49

44

62

29

15

50

39

62

28

55

51

28

62

28

30

52

21

62

28

30

53

10

62

28

25

54

00

62

28

00

55

16

62

27

20

56

14

62

26

30

k

58

59

62

36

00

57

56

, Index error = -{- 1 min. 24 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

k. min. sec.

0

Deg. min. sec.

31 29 56

0 50 54

46 03 46

436

r 174 ]

NOON HALT OX THE LEFT BANK OF THE COLUMBIA.

D derm i nation of lati tude, Oct . QS, 1S43 — meridian altitude# of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Do:'.! 1? alti ides of the sun’s lower limh

tog-

%

mm.

sec.

h .

min.

sec.

til

18

20

12

47

01

61

19

00

48

00

♦>1

19

;0

48

41

61-

18

20

.00

00

o i

18

20

01

28

6:

18

10

52

09

Time of chronometer.

index c: .‘. r ~ 1 min. 24 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

:

EA CAVEMEN l' ON THE LEFT BANK OF COLUMBIA RIVER.
eytaiunilon of latitude, October 30, IS43 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS. V

Lc.uh'e altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

A- see.

mm. see.

94 08 00

9 14 46

. r V O OO

16 09

? 4 09 M0

17 17

94 1 0 30

18 42

i . 1 1 20

20 01

94 It 40

21 27

94 12 10

22 19

Vi- 12 30

23 32

91 13 15

25 24

94 13 40

1 V

26 42

Index error = -{- 1 min. 23 sec.
RESULT CF CALCULATION.

True altitude/

Mean time.

Latitude.

_ 'it.'.

4 T * • * 1

h. mm. see.

8 12 58

De;*. min. see .
45 50 U5

437

r t -- *

L

ENCAMPMENT CN THE LEFT BALK

Determination of 'longii udc, October 30,

OBSERVATIONS.

L0LUM3IA FIVER.

3 — •. it it u ■ ft of* L;g roe.

FI AST :

eries.

sec os li

si hies.

Double

a

altitudes of
Lyrae.

Time of chronometer, i

i Double
a

altitudes of
Lyrae.

, Time of enrouometer.

Deg

min.

!

ter.

h. m:n

1

see. i

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

83

31

10

9 2D

33.0 !

8l

47

50

9 34

43

83

08

50

, 30

42.3

8 1

30

20

on

37

82

40

00

31

48.0

81

12

30

36

30 .

82

26

JO

32

53.0 !

80

54

10

37

25

82

05

30

33

51.6 j

!i 8U

.

36

50

38

18

Index error = -f- 1 min. 23 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

N Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min; sec-

8 26 29

1 07 39.1

119 22 18

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON COLUMBIA RIVER.

Determination of latitude , October 31, 1343 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

94

09

10

9

4<»

54

94

10

10

42

59

94

10

40

44

00

94

11

30

45

48

94

11

40

47

02

Index error = i min. 22 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

L

•atitude.

Deg. min. sec.
47 05 06

h . min. sec.
8 35 32

Deg.

45

min. sec.
44 23

C ]

438

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON COLUMBIA RIVER.

Determination of longitude , October 31, 1843 — altitude of a Lyrae.

OBSERVATION.

Double altitude of a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec .

h. min. sec.

80 07 40

9 36 34

Index error = -J- 1 min. 22 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

8 27 57

1 08 37.3

119 45 09

MISSIONARY STATION AT THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA,

j Determination of longitude , November 5, 1843 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST S

IERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Doable altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min .

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

30

13

40

9

44

52.0

30

56

50

9

47

41.3

30

25

10

45

36.8

31

04

20

48

10.6

30

33

20

46

11.0

31

13

20

48

45.0

30

42

50

46

45.0

31

19

45

49

13.5

30

49

30

47

11.0

31

28

00

49

45.7

Index error = -f- 1 min. 23 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec .

h. min . sec.

8 37 11

1 10 14.1

439

[ 174 ]

STATION ON THE HILLS IN THE REAR OF THE MISSION.

Determination of longitude , November 5, 1843 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower Hmb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

49

25

40

11

17

20.5

49

42

30

19

14.0

49

47

30

•

19

45.5

49

52

50

20

20.0

49

58

00

20

55.0

Index error = -f- 1 min. 22 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

10 09 43

1 10 07.4

120 53 51

I 174 ] 440

■station on

■lion of In! ,

• ' ' *

J

, Nuvatno:' •’ o. i 'S l
sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

ait or mz mission.

3 — eriifio ■■ iu'lifu Jcs of the

Double altitudes

|

ol the sun’s tower limb.

Time of chronometer.

7)4,-.

min .

S8C.

h. min.

per.

56

44

00

0 37

38

56

44

35

•

33

25

56

46

40

30

29

56

49

25

41

56

51

05

42

59

56

51

50

44

07

56

53

15

45

13

56

53

45

45

51

56

55

30

47

40

56

56

00

48

49

56

56

20

51

04

56

56

25

52

29

56

56

35

53

59

56

56

15

54

50

56

55

60

57

07

56

55

4 9

5~

49

56

55

20

58

20

56

54

30

59

19

56

54

10

1 00

09

56

53

40

00

49

Index error = -J- 1 min. 22 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg- min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

28 43 33

0 53 49

1

45 35 21

4 ! 1

[ ]

MISSIONARY STATION AT THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA.

£fct?rm in a t / o n of latitude^ November 5, 15 LI — 'aW hides of P! . i.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

.1

Des:.

min ■

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

93

53

00

9

26

31

93

54

20

28

08

93

54

15

29

3i

93

54

20

30

33

93

55

20

31

43

93

55

20

32

37

93

. 56

10

33

50

93

56

25

34

51

93

57

20

35

45

93

57

30

36

53

Index error = — 1 min. 22 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Tnae altitude.

Mean time^

Latitude.

min. sec.
4S 57 29

k. min. sec.

8 22 02

Deg. min. sec.

45 35 38

1

Emersion of Jupiter’s second satellite.

©bs rved time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

3L min. sec.

3® 43 32

h. min. sec.

9 33 40

Deg. min. sec.

120 55 00

442

[ 174 ]

MISSIONARY STATION AT THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA.
Determination of longitude, November 5, 1S43 — altitudes of a Lyra r.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
a Lyne.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Leg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

72

38

JO

9

40

35.5

71

10

50

9 45

02.0

72

19

00

41

32.4

70

50

20

46

05.0

72

01

30

42

27.0

70

22

45

. 47

29.6

71

43

50

43

21.0

70

00

40

48

36.5

71

27

40

44

10.0

69

45

40

49

22.7

Index error = 4-1 min. 22 sec.

RESULT OP CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

8

34 59

1

09 53.3

*

443

[ 174 J

ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIGHT BANK OF THE COLUMBIA* 15 MILES BELOW

THE CASCADES.

Determination of longitude, November II, 1843 — altitudes of Jupiter .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Jupiter.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

32 42 50

10 13 09.6

32 08 40

15 29.5

31 30 40

18 01.0

Index error = + 2 min. 6 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

9 04 41

Emersion of Jupiter’s first satellite.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec .

9 45 19

8 34 50.2

122 06

15

Determination of latitude, November II, 1845 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec .

94

07

50

10

38

08

94

08

10

41

13

94

09

10

42

43

Index error = -j- 2 min. 6 sec-

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

47 04 00

9 30 16

45

33

09

€ 1:4 ] 444

Encampment on the right bank of the Columbia, 15 miles below

THE CASCADES.

Detenninciiion of longitude. November 12, 1S43 — altitudes of the sun.

observations.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

.33

28

40

10“ 13

08.0

33

46

20

14

28.0

34

00

30

15

32.5

34

11

10

16

24.0

34

24

00

17

18.0

Index error = -f- 2 min. 6 sec.
RESULT OP CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

9 05 10

1

10 12.3

Determination rf latitude. Nov . 12, 1843 — meridian altitudes of the sun.

observations.

Double altitudes of

the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. >

HI i i) .

■'(C.

k.

min.

sec.

52

58

00

0

51

40

52

57

40

52

53

52

58

10

53

56

52

56

50

58

33

52

54

00

1

02

51

52

53

50

03

30

52

53

30

04

11

52

52

2-K

05

09

Index error = -f- 2 min. 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

26 44 24

0 54 25

45 33 19

445 [ 174 1 ’

MISSIONARY STATION AT THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA.

Dcermin at ion of lime, November 20, IS43 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

1"

SECOND

SERIES.

Denote altitudes of the
sun's lower limb.

Time

of chrohoraeter.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

2f-g

. mill.

sec.

h.

Illl'l .

see.

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

35

53

20

10

35

52.0

36 22

20

10 38

25.4

36

00

20

36

26.5

*36 23

,10

38

54.7

.36

05

25

36

54.7

30 33

10

39

22.3

36

11

15

37

25.0

36 38

10

39

49.4

36

17

10

37

56.2

36 43

40

40

20.0

Index error = -f- 2 min. 6 sec

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. sec.

9 36 11

V

k. min. sec.

1 01 57.9

— f—

Determination of time, November 20, IS i3 — altitudes of a dhjuilse,

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Aquilas.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

89 41 00

89 19 00

89 05 40

8S 51 20

88 37 50

h. min. sec.

6 46 41.6

48 08.0

49 02.5

50 03.4 c

50 54. 0

9

Index error == 2 min. 6 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION

Mean time.

Advance.

h. min. ser.

5 47 24

h. min. sec.

i 01 34.3

Emersion of Jupiter's third satellite.

Observed time.

Mean time.

h min. sec. j h. min. sec.

6 27 48 5 26 13

446

i 174 ]

MISSIONARY STATION AT THE DALLES OF THE COLUMBIA.*
Determination of latitude. , Nov. 21, IS43 — meridian altitudes of tne sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the

sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

** Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

48

25

40

0

46

56

48

26

10

47

56

48

26

30

48

45

48

25

50

50

13

48

25

40

50

54

48

25

25

51

42

48

25

05

52

30

48

24

40

53

32

Index error = -f- 2 min, 6 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg * min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

24 29 23

0 47 28

45 35 55

Determination of time , November 24, 1S43 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Lyrse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

81

32

30

7 48 23.0

81

07

30

49 40.5

Index error = -J- 2 min.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

h. min. sec.

6 49 41

Advance.

h. min. sec.

0 59 20.7

"* The daily losing rate of the chronometer, obtained from the observations at this place, is 33". 13.

447

C 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A LARGE BRANCH OF FALL RIVER, (RIVIERE AUX

CHUTES.)

Determination of longitude, November 26, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyras.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOXD !

SERIES.

Double

altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

c

Lyrse.

a Lyrse.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

82

15

00

7

35

35.7

80

49

00

7

39

47.4

81

33

10

37

39.5

80

33

00

40

35.5

81

07

40

38

53.5

80

17

20

41

21.2

Index error = -f- 2 min. 4 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

6

41 53

0

57 06.0

#

Determination of latitude , November 26, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

93

07

50

7

45

24

93

08

20

46

32

93

08

40

47

28

93

09

10

48

24

93

09

10

49

10

93

09

50

50

09

93

10

15

51

29

93

10

25

52

23

93

11

15

*

53

15

93

11

35

54

15

Index error == -f- 2 min. 4 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

46 34 56

6 52 45

45 14 24

C 3

* • -v

ENCAMPMENT AT THE SOUfil END OF TAII1 PRAIRIE.

D'j‘ ■nlna'wn of longitude, November d7, IS 13 — -attitudes of & L$rx- \

observations,

FIRST SF.raF.S.

SECOND

S-R1LS.

J)u.u*!e

altitudes of j

Time of chronometer.

Double

an;»,.

desef

Time

of

a

Lyraj.

a

LyriE

.

Den.

iin.

se\

h.

m in .

|

sec.

Dm.

min.

sec.

A.

min.

€9

04

10

8

10

48.0

67

20

10

S

16

m.r>

68

3G

40

12

11.5

67

03

20

'fi

5«.«:

68

18

30

13

07.6

! 66

46

40

17

50.ff

68

00

30

14

02.6

| 66

28

30

18

45 M

67

45

15

14

50.5

| 66

13

00

19

XlJf

Index error = 2 min. 4 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

- ■■rhx. sec.

T 18 35

h. min. sec.

0 56 50. 1

Dei ar ruination of latitude, November 27, IS43 — altitudes of PolttrN

OBSERVATIONS.

Double

altitudes of

Polaris.

Time

of chronometer.

JJtgi

ruin.

sec.

h.

m in .

sec.

93

04

20

8

24

11

93

05

CO

26

47

93

* 05

10

28

09

93

05

10

29

13

93

06

30

30

38

93

06

Cu

31

39

93

06

30

32

58

93

06

00

34

28

93

07

00

35

39

93

07

40

36

51

Index error = -

\~ 2 min. 4 sec.

.

RESULT OF C

ALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

tjrsr. min. sic

*

h. mm. <•?.?.

Deer. min. *«--

46 36 02

7 34 13

*>

Cn(

£

449

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE SOUTH END OF TAIH PRAIRIE.

Determination of longitude , Novemoer 27, 1S43 — immersion of Jupiter’s

third satellite.

Observed time.

Mean time. |

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
6 53 12

h. min. sec.
5 56 20

Emersion of Jupiter’s first satellite.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
7 56 15

h. min. sec.
6 59 24.5

Deg. min . sec.
121 02 43

ENCAMPMENT ON THE MAIN BRANCH OF FALL RIVER.

Determination of latitude, November 30, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

'

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k. min.

sec .

91

56

50

7 47

37 v

91

57

15

49

23

91

58

20

51

09

Index error = 4-2 min.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec .

k. min . sec.

Deg. min. sec.

45 58 48

6 53 35

44 35 23

29

450

[ 1?4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE MAIN BRANCH OF FALL RIVER.

Determination of longitude , November 30, 1S43 — altiiudes of Cupel la,

observations.

Double altitudes of Capella.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

•

h.

min.

sec.

69

30

30

7

54

28.0

69

55

15

55

50.5

Index error = + 2 min.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
6 59 21

h. min. sec .
0 55 48.3

Emersion of Jupiter’s second satellite.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. ruin. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

7 36 11

6 40 22.6

121 10 25

ENCAMPMENT ON FALL RIVER, (UNION FALLS.)

Determination of longitude. December 5, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrze.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a Lyrce.

a Lyrae.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

72

55

40

7

21

13.5

71

27

15

7

25

37.0

72

38

10

22

08.2

71

03

45

26

50.5

72

20

30

23

00.5

70

45

10

27

43.4

72

02

20

23

53.7

70

29

00

28

33.2

71

46

10

24

40.6

70

07

30

29

37.0

Index error = -f- 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

6 32 16

0 53 03.4

*

451

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON FALL RIVER, (UNION FALLS.)

Determination of latitude , December 5, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

•

h.

min.

sec.

90

34

40

7

09

09

90

34

40

10

59

90

36

10

11

56

90

36

10

13

00

90

37

00

14

00

90

36

50

15

00

9 6

37

15

15

49

90

38

00

16

42

90

38

40

17

45

90

38

20

18

42

Index error = -4- 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

45 16 39

6 20 42

43 55

20

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON FALL RIVER.

Determination of longitude, December 6, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrse .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Lyrse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

54 14

10

8 13

42.4

53 38

15

15

33.0

53 06

30

17

14.3

Index error = 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

7 22 43

i °

52 46.9

[ 174 ]

452

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON FALL RIVER.

Determination of latitude , December 6, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec. ,

h. min. sec.

90 29 00

8 20 51

90 29 15

22 07

90 29 15

24 00

90 29 10

26 00

90 29 05

28 00

Index error = -{- 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

45 14 22

7 31 25

43 44 15

THIRD ENCAMPMENT ON FALL RIVER.

Determination of longitude . Dec. 8, 1S43 — immersion of r\ Geminorum.

Observed time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

1 23 08 a. m.

121 33

50

Determination of longitude , December 8, 1S43 — altitudes of Rigel.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Rigel.

Tim® of chronometer

Deg.

min.

1

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

70

14

30

2

12

32.0 a. m.

69

56

30

14

30.0

69

43

00

16

00.0

69

27

40

17

36.5

69

10

00

19

36.5

Index error = 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h . min. sec.

1 23 25

0 52 37.7

453

[ 174 ]

THIRD ENCAMPMENT ON FALL RIVER.

Determination of latitude , December 8, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

k Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

87

49

10

1

47

44 a. m.

87

47

30

49

49

87

46

40

50

52

87

45

30

51

51

87

44

40

53

08

87

44

25

54

00

87

43

00

55

03

87

42

25

56

20

87

41

00

57

18

87

40

45

58

13

Index error = -p 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

43 52 01

1 00 38

43 30 36

CAMP IN A PINE FOREST.

Determination of latitude , December 8, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

89

10

00

6

42

25 p. m.

89

11

00

43

24

89

11

45

44

11

89

12

30

45

12

89

12

30

46

07

89

13

10

47

14

89

13

15

.

48

23

89

13

40

49

21

89

13

50

50

02

89

14

30

50

46

Index error = -f- 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

*

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. set.

44 36

05

5j 53 57

43 17 49

t

[ 174 ]

454

CAMP IN A PINE FOREST.

Determination of longitude , December 8, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrx.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

77

55

10

6

53

09.0

77

31

50

54

17.0

77

14

30

55

04.5

76

55

00

56

03.4

6

76

38

15

56

52.5

Index error = + 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec •

6 02 19

0

52 46.3

Determination of longitude, December 8, 1843 — altitudes of Capella.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Capella.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

62

23

10

7

01

00.0

62

44

10

02

12.7

63

00

10

03

06.0

63

20

10

04

10.6

64

01

20

06

27.5

Index error = 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

6 10 39

0 52 44.5

455

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT TLAMATH LAKE.

Determination of latitude, December 10. 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.\

min.

sec.

88

56

10

8

25

07

88

56

10

26

27

88

55

40

27

17

Index error = -f- 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OP CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

44 27 46

7

35 27

42 56

51

Determination of longitude, December 10, 1843 — altitudes of Capella.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Capella.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

92

56

30

8

30

05.5

93

17

30

31

11.0

93

38

40

32

16.0

Index error = -f- 1 min. 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

_L

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 39 52

0 51 18.5

[ 174 ]

456

ENCAMPMENT AT TLAMATH LAKE.

Determination of latitude , December 11, 1S43 — meridian altitudes of the

sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec,

47

24

30

0

32

11

47

25

15

33

09

47

27

15

34

30

47

28

40

36

52

47

29

25

38

00

47

30

10

40

29

47

30

35

/

41

24

47

30

35

43

05

47

31

15

43

57

47

31

40

44

54

47

31

15

46

11

47

31

05

46

56

47

30

20

47

49

47

29

40

48

55

47

29

20

49

56

47

28

10

52

08

47

27

00

53

20

47

25

45

54

36

Index error = -f- 1 min. 32 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

24 00 33

0 44 11

42 58 23

457

[ 174 3

ENCAMPMENT AT TLAMATH LAKE.

Determination of latitude , December 11, 1S43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer. '

Leg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

88

41

30

7

00

45

89

41

20

02

00

88

41

30

02

59

88

41

35

04

22

88

42

10

05

42

Index error = -+- 1 min, 32 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Leg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Leg. min. sec.

44 20 35

6 12 53

42 56 47

Determination of longitude , December 11, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrse »

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST !

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a Lyra.

a

Lyra.

Leg. min.

sec. •

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

67 34

00

7

09

05.5

65

58

45

7

13

47.3

67 06

10

10

25.7

65

35

00

14

56.6

66 47

40

11

22.0 t

65

19

20

15

44.8

66 32

40

12

07.5

65

03

20

16

34.5

66 15

50

12

56.5

64

42

20

17

35.8

Index error = 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

6 22 44

0

50 43.5

458

E m ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A TRIBUTARY TO THE LAKE AND HEAD WATEfc OF

THE TLAMATH RIVER.

Determination of longitude , December 13, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIFS.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a Lyrae.

a

Lyrae.

Deg.

min.

see.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec -

63

40

10

7

10

36.5

61

57

00

7

15

49.8

63

13

10

11

56.5

61

37

50

16

44.4

62

50

40

13

04.0

61

19

35

17

40.5

62

34

40

13

54.0

61

01

40

18

36.0

62

11

45

15

03.7

60

44

00

19

30.0

Index error = + 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

6

26 37

0

48 41.0

Emersion of Jupiter's first satellite.

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

6 07 04

5 18 21.6

121 20 42

459

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A TRIBUTARY TO THE LAKE AND HEAD WATER OF THE

TLAMATH RIVER.

Determination of latitude , December 13, IS 43 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

88

38

20

' 7

24

09

88

39

30

25

41

88

39

10

26

53

88

39

25

28

18

88

40

20

29

34

88

40

50

30

37

88

40

20

31

46

88

40

30

32

45

88

41

10

33

57

88

40

35

34

54

Index error = I min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min- sec.

44 19 46

6 41 10

42 51 26

ENCAMPMENT ON SUMMER LAKE.

Determination of latitude , December 16, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

88

46

30

6

48

50

88

46

20

50

28

88

46

40

51

53

88

47

00

52

59

Index error = -f- 1 rain. 35 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

44 23 07

6 06 48

42 57 22

[ 174 ]

460

ENCAMPMENT ON SUMMER LAKE.

Determination of longitude , December 16, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrse .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Lyra.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

67

50

20

6

42

08.5

67

08

50

44

11.0

66

27

35

46

11.5

Index error = -j- 1 min. 35 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

-

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min . sec.

5 59 59

0

44 11.2

Determination of longitude , December 16, 1843 — altitudes of Capella,

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Capella.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

%

h.

min.

sec.

73

29

45

6

58

46.0

73

53

50

7

00

04.5

74

16

20

01

17.7

Index error = -f- 1 min. 35 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

-

[ 174 ]

461

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON SUMMER LAKE

Determination of longitude , December 18, 1843 — altitudes of Capella.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Capella.

Time of chronometer. .

Deo;, min. sec

k. min. sec.

94 10 50

7 54 24.0

94 44 10

56 07.0

95 10 00

57 24.0

95 31 00

58 27.5

95 51 10

59 27.0

Index error = -f- 1 min. 37 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec

h.

min . sec .

7 14 30

0

42 39.9

i

Deter miriatio7i of longitude , December 18, 1843 — altitudes of a Cygni .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Beg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

79

03

50

8

19

24.0

78

40

30

20

37.2

78

21

45

21

35.4

78

04

25

22

29.2

77

45

15

23

27.0

Index error = 1 min. 37 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min . sec.

7 38 57

7

h.

0

min .
42

sec .
33.1

462

[ 1^4 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON SUMMER LAKE.

Determination of latitude, December 18, 1843 -altitudes of Polar*.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of P olaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

88

27

00

88

27

40

88

27

35

88

27

40

88

27

30

88

27

10

88

27

50

88

27

45

88

27

25

88

27

40

Time of chronometer.

min.

sec.

02

20

03

50

05

00

06

15

07

38

' 08

55

10

11

11

17

12

25

13

43

Index error = 1 min- 37 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time. 1

1

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

44 13 34

h. min . sec.

7 25 32

__

Deg. min. sec.
| 42 42 37

ENCAMPMENT ON CHRISTMAS LAKE.

Determination of latitude, December 24, 1843 -altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS. _

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

6

48

02

/

87

46

00

49

39

87

46

20

50

44

87

46

30

52

04

87

46

40

53

18

87

47

00

54

12

87

47

15

55

32

87

47

20

56

38

87

47

40

57

43

87

47

20

58

45

87

47

45

—

Index error = 4-1 min. 37 %ec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

>

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. see.

43 53 17

h. min. sec-

6 17 12

Deg. min. sec.
42 23 25

463

C 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON CHRISTMAS LAKE.

Determination of longitude , December 24, 1843 — altitudes of a Lyrse *

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Doable altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a

Lyrse.

a

Lyrse.

Deg.

rain.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

56

42

30

6 34

50.5 ;

54

43 30

6

40

54.0

56

18

15

36

03.3

54

24 00

41

54.4

55

56

20

37

08.3

54

05 15

42

52.4

55

37

00

38

09.5

53

43 25

44

00.0

55

17

00

39

10.0

53

25 30

44

54.0

Index error = -|- 1 min. 37 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

It.

min.

sec.

6 03 44

0

36

15.7

ENCAMPMENT IN DESERT VALLEY, AMONG BLACK ROCKY HILLS.
Determination of longitude , December 26, 1843 — altitude of a Lyrse .

OBSERVATION.

Double altitude of

a Lyrse.

Time ©f chronometer.

Deg. min.

sec.

h,. min. sec.

46 49

00

6 55 18.5

Index error = -f- 1 min. 40 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

.

6 21 33

0

34 05.5

£ 174 ] 464

ENCAMPMENT IN DESERT VALLEY, AMONG BLACK ROCKY HILLS.

Determination of latitude, December 26, 1S43 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATION.

I

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

87 01 50

6 59 30

Index error = -j- 1 min. 40 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec

43 30 44

6 25 32

42 00 09

CAMP OF DECEMBER 29-30.

Determination of latitude , December 29, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec .

h. min . sec.

85 57 50

7 ll 58

85 57 20

13 40

85 57 20

15 07

8*5 58 00

16 14

85 58 10

17 18

Index error = 4- 1 min. 40 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

42 58 39

6 42 07

41 27

1

50

465

[ 174]

CAMP OF DECEMBER 29-30.

Determination of longitude , December 29, 1S43 — altitudes of a CygnL

observations.

Double altitudes of a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

79

50

50

7

20

12.5

79

27

00

21

25.0

79

07

40

22

21.0

78

33

20

24

08.0

78

11

10

25

16.0

Index error = -J- 1 min. 40 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

i

NEW YEAR’S EVE CAMP.

Determination of latitude , December 31, 1843 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

85 39 20

7 32 49

85 39 00

34 18

85 38 50

35 44

85 38 25

36 45

85 38 40

37 54

85 38 30

39 27

85 38 20

40 29

85 37 50

41 41

85 37 10

43 03

85 37 30

44 34

•

Index error = + 1 min. 40 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

42 48 58

<1

©

©

•

CO

41 49 55

30 •

I 174 ]

466

NEW YEAR’S EVE CAMP.

Determination of longitude , December 31, 1S43 — altitudes of a Cygni.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

•

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a

Cygni

a

Cygni

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

. .

h. min.

sec.

76

32

40

7

19

31.0

74

14

50

7 26

37.2

75

44

10

22

01.0

73

54

50

27

38.0

75

19

00

23

16.5

73

36

40

28

33.0

74

59

40

24

17.0

73

18

25

29

30.5

74

37

35

25

24,5 1

73

01

35

30

21.6

Index error = 1 min. 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

A. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

6 56 37

0 29 06.3

CAMP NEAR THE MUD LAKE.

Determination of longitude , January 3, 1844 — altitudes of a Cygni.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

74

44

40

7

08

58.0

74

22

00

10

07.0

73

54

50

11

29.0

73

33

40

12

34 0

73

11

15

13

43.0

Index error = + 1 min. 45 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

6 43 47

h. min. sec.
0 27 34.8

»

467

[ 174 ]

CAMP NEAR THE MUD LAKE.

Determination of latitude , January 3, 1344 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min ^ sec.

h. min. sec.

84 35 30

7 18 18

84 35 15

20 06

84 35 50

22 04

84 35 15

24 40

84 35 10

25 25

Index error = -f- 1 min. 45 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

42 17 30

6 55 31

40

48

15

CAMP NEAR THE GREAT BOILING SPRING.

Determination of longitude, January 6, 1844 — altitudes of » Cygni .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Cygni.

Time of chronometer. •

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

70 21 40

7 10 04.0

70 03 50

10 56.0

69. 47 30

11 45.6

69 28 20

12 47.0

69 08 40

13 47.5

Index error = 4- 1 min. 48 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

k.

min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

66

44 23

0

27 23.7

r 174.]

46S

CAMP NEAR THE GREAT BOILING SPRING.
Determination of latitude , January 6, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

84

17

10

7

16

41

84

17

20

18

29

84

17

00

19

32

84

16

50

20

54

84

16

30

21

56

Index error = -f- 1 min. 48 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

^

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

42 08 19

6 52 02

40 39 44

Determination of latitude , January 8, 1S44, [same station ) — meridian

altitudes of the sun. #

Double altitude of the sun’s j

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

1

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

53 35 35

27 03 07

40

39

49

Mean latitude 40 deg. 39 min. 46 sec.

469

[ 174 I

ENCAMPMENT ON PYRAMID LAKE.

Determination of longitude , January 12, 1844 — altitudes of » Cygni .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of
a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec .

63

59

00

6

45

14.5

62

03 25

6

51

08.5

63

34

00

46

31.0

61

44 00

52

05.5

63

15

50

47

24.0

61

28 45

52

53.0

62

39

45

49

14.5

61

07 30

53

59.0

62

20

25

•50

14.0

60

48 10

54

59.0

Index error = + 43 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

•

Determination of latitude , January 12, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min .

sec.

83

22

50

7 00

20

83

22

40

01

39

83

22

30 1

02

29

83

22

25

03

19

83

21

40

05

33

83

21

15

06

42

83

21

00

07

46

83

21

00

08

46

83

20

20

10

37

83

20

25

11

31

Index error — -f- 43 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

[ 174 ]

470

ENCAMPMENT ON SALMON TROUT RIVER.

Determ ination of latitude, January 16, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min . sec.

h. min. sec.

77 21 10

3 11 29 a.m.

77 20 40

13 13

77 19 20

14 32

77 18 50

15 43

77 18 50

16 ‘45

77 18 25

17 59

77 18 00

19 12

77 17 10

, 20 37

77 16 30

21 45

77 15 50

23 01

Index error = 44 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

38 38 23

2

55 04 a. m.

39 51

13

Determination of longitude , January 16, 1844 — altitudes of Arcturus .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

90 06 00

3 41 23.6 a. m.

90 33 00

42 35.8

90 57 50

43 43.0

91 41 35

45 38.0

92 11 50

47 01.0

Index error = — f- 44 sec. *
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

3

21 42 a. m.

0

22 21.9 '

471

[ 174 3

ENCAMPMENT ON SALMON TROUT RIVER.

Determination of longitude, January 16, 1844 — altitudes of Procyon..

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

•

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of
Procyon.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
Procyon.

Tipi ftf chronometer.

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

69 45

00

3 26

31.2a.m.

67

23

50

3

33

15.4

69 16

20

27

52.0

67

01

50

34

15.0

68 45

25

29

20.5

66

39

10

35

22.0

68 16

40

30

44.0

66

13

50

36

31.5

67 49

55

32

02.0

65

49

00

37

42.0

Index error = 4- 44 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

3 10 02 a. m.

0 22 20.0

CAMP ON A RIVER OF THE SIERRA

NEVADA.

Determination of latitude, January IS, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

75 51 50

6 20 39 a. m.

75 51 45

22 25

75 51 50

24 07

75 53 00

25 39

75 52 50

27 10

• 75 53 00

28 31

Index error = -j- 44 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. see .

37 55 32

6 05 17 a. m.

39 24 16

I 174 ]

472

CAMP ON A RIVER OF THE SIERRA NEVADA.
Determination of longitude, January IS, 1S44 — altitudes of » Leonis.

OBSERVATIONS.

r ■

Double altitudes of a Leonis.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

62 12 30

6 32 13.0 a. m.

61 31 00

34 05.0

60 28 30

36 48.5

Index error = -f- 44 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

A.

min. sec.

A.

min. sec.

6

13 59 a. m.

0

20 23.0

Determination of longitude, January IS, 1844 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Lyra.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

80 39 50

6 41 50.0 a. m.

81 37 40

44 31.5

82 15 45

46 14.0

^

Index error = -}- 44 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

A. min. sec.

A.

min. sec.

6 23 46 a. m.

0

20 25.4

/

473

[ 174 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON A RIVER OF THE SIERRA NEVADA.

Determination of longitude , January 19, 1844 — altitudes of a Cygni.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

60

54

50

6

35

59.0

60

27

25

37

23.5

60

10

20

33

•18.0

59

52

35

39

15.0

59

32

30

40

18.0

Index error = -f- 45 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

6 18 46

0

19 28.5

Determination of longitude , January 19, 1844 — altitudes of » Orionis.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a

Orionis.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k. min.

sec.

73

24

00

7 01

01.6

73

52

50

02

22.0

74

22

50

03

47.0

« 74

48

00

04

58.0

Index error = -|- 45 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

1

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

6 43 32

0

19 30.2

474

[ 174 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON A RIVER OF THE SIERRA NEVADA.
Deter mi nation of latitude , January 19, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. j Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

81

32

10

6

43

20

81

32

00

44

45

81

31

20

46

06

81

31

25

47

26

81

30

45

48

36

81 •

30

20

50

13

81

29

45

51

24

81

29

25

53

10

81

28

45

54

56

81

29

00

56

10

Index error = — |— 45 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min . sec.

Deg. min. sec.

40 , 44 33

6 30 14

39 19 21

THIRD ENCAMPMENT ON A RIVER OF THE SIERRA NEVADA.
Determination of latitude , January 21, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

s OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

80

32

00

7

43

27

80

29

45

45

03

80

30

00

46

38

80

01

25

8

37

13

80

01

20

38

29

80

00

20

40

03

79

59

50

41

29

79

59

10

42

30

Index error = — |— 50 sec.

RESULT OE CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min . sec.

Deg. min. sec.

40 03 01

7 54 12

39 01 53

475

[ 174 ]

THIRD ENCAMPMENT ON A RIVER OF THE SIERRA NEVADA
Determination of longitude , January 21, 1844 — altitudes of Procyon .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Procyon.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

55 58 20

7 54 16.0

74 20 50

8 45 10.0

74 49 50

46 32.6

Index error = -f- 50 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

— i ■■

m

8 01 45

0 18 19.0

FOURTH ENCAMPMENT, NEAR A GAP.

Determination of latitude , January 22, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec .

80 12 20

7 28 41

80 11 15

30 05

80 10 45

31 41

80 10 15

32 48

80 10 15

33 48

80 09 40

35 01

80 09 20

36 13

80 08 40

37 30

80 08 00 *

38 59

80 07 10

40 40

Index error = -f- 50 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Deg. min. sec.
40 04 09

Mean time.

h. min. sec.

7 16 35

Latitude.

Deg. min . sec .
38 49 54

[ 174 ]

476

FOURTH ENCAMPMENT, NEAR A GAP.

Determination of longitude , January 22, 1S44 — altitudes of Procyon .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Procyon.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

56

57

20

7

52

12

57

34

20

53

51

58

13

25

55

39

Time of chronometer.

Index error = +[50 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

witn. sec.

7

36 01

0

17 52.8

CAMP ON A SOUTHERN BRANCH OF THE STREAM OF ENCAMPMENT OF

22d TO 23d.

Determination of latitude , January 23, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

79

44

50

7

23

58

79

44

40

25

27

79

43

45

27

00

79

42

45

28

04

79

42

35

29

01

79

42

40

30

07

79

41

35

31

28

79

41

10

32

35

79

40

30

33

49

79

40

25

•

34

54

Index error = + 50 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

39 50 30

7 13 01

38 36 19

477

[ 174 ]

CAMP ON A SOUTHERN BRANCH OF THE STREAM OF ENCAMPMENT OP

22d TO 23d.

Determination of longitude , January 23, 1S44 — altitudes of Procyon .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
Procyon.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
Procyon.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg

. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

53

57

20

7 33

415

55

41

10

7

43

16.0

54.

24

30

39

53.4

55

58

50

44

02.2

54

45

20

40

49.0

56

20

00

44

59.5

55

03

25

41

36.4

56

41

10

45

56.4

55

20

30

42

21.5

V 56

57

20

46

38.0

Index error = 50 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

7 26 12

0

16 37.0

ENCAMPMENT ON THE HEAD WATERS OF A STREAM.

Determination of longitude , January 24, 1844 — altitudes of Procyon .

OBSERVATIONS. ,

Double altitudes of Procyon.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

53

07

20

7

31

37.7

53

35

15

32

51.0

53

58

45

33

53.4

54

16

40

34

40.5

54

40

50

35

42.7

55

00

20

36

36.0

Index erior = 48 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

— r

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude,

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 18 16

0 15 57.8

478

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE HEAD WATERS OF A STREAM.
Determination of latitude, January 24, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

observations.

Double altitudes of Polaris. | Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

79

11

00

7 40

13

79

10

00

42

14

79

10

00

43

36

79

08

25

45

03

79

07

35

47

13

79

07

20

48

22

79

06

40

49

55

79

05

45

51

18

79

05

00

52

36

79

04

30

53

56

1

Index error = 48 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min., sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec .

39 33 02

7 31 29

38 24 28

1

CAMP ON A LARGE STREAM.

Determination of longitude , January 26, 1844 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

1

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the j

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

38

52

00

9 33

46.5

39

50

30

9

37

23.7

39

05

50

34

36.4

39

58

05

37

53.0

39

15

30

35

12.6

40

07

10

38

28.3

39

25

50

35

51.0

40

16

35

39

01.5

39

39

00

36

44.2

40

25

45

39

36.2

Index error = — 50 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

1

Longitude.

k. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

9 20

44

0

16

07.5

479

[ 174 ]

CAMP ON A LARGE STREAM.

Determination of latitude, Jan. 26, 1S44 — meridian altitudes of the sun.

observations.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

..

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

65

18

50

0

23

44

65

19

00

25

00

65

20

15

27

10

65

20

15

28

19

65

20

00

29

54

65

! 9

50

31

04

65

19

30

32

31

65

18

15

34

03

65

17

05

35

07

65

16

15

1

36

21

Index error = -f- 50 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

32

55

20

0

28

35

Determination of longitude , January 26, 1844 — distance from the moon’s

first limb to t^enus.

OBSERVATIONS WITH THE CIRCLE.

Time of chronometer.

Circle reading.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

6 58 05

59 57

7 01 20

02 27

03 54

04 58

06 15

07 06

08 17

09 19

.

10 18

11 25

12 31

13 31

80 35 40

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True distance.

Mean time at Greenwich.

Longitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min.

see.

Deg. min. sec.

57 55 1 8

14

57

*

48.8

121 49 52

C 1*4 ]

480

CAMP ON A LARGE STREAM.

Determination of latitude , January 26, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

•

78

53

30

7

39

59

•

78

53

45

42

02

78

52

10

43

08

78

51

50

44

42

78

51

15

46

19

Index error = — |— 50 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

39 25 29

7 27 20

38 18 01

Determination of longitude , January 26, 1844 — altitudes of Procyon.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Procyon.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

56 15 20

7 31 49.5

56 43 25

33 03.0

57 16 40

34 32.0

57 42 50

35 41.0

58 08 40

36 49.0

Index error = -f- 50 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

h.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

7

18

30

0

15

53.2

Longitude.

481

[ 174 ]

CAMP ON THE SAME STREAM AS ON THE NIGHT OF JANUARY 18-19.

Determination of longitude, January 30, 1844 — altitudes of Procyon.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIHST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
Procyon.

Time of chronometer.

1

Double altitudes of
Procyon.

1

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

• h. min , sec.

i Dee;, min. sec.

h. min. sec .

61 13 00

7 OS 09.0

! 63 05 00

7 13 11.0

61 44 20

09 33.0

63 24 30

14 03.4

62 08 15

10 37.0

63 44 00

14 56.5

62

62

26

45

40

40

26.2

18.3

64

64

07

25

00

45

16

16

01.4

52.0

Index error = 4-52 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

h. min.
7 18

sec.

35

Retard.

Longitude.

min.

05

sec.

52.6

Determination of latitude, January 30, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris »

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

79

22

40

7 19

55

79

22

50

21

38

79

22

00

22

45

79

20

40

24

01

79

20

30

25

23

79

19

40

26

27

79

18

50

27

35

79

18

10

28

37

79

18

10

29

26

79

17

45

30

24

Index error = 4-52 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

39 39 20

7 31 31

33 37

18

3i

[ 174 ]

482

FIRST CAMP IN THE PASS OF THE SIERRA NEVADA.

Determination of latitude , Feb . 5, 1844 — meridian altitudes oj the sun >

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

70

02

35

0

00

48

70

03

30

01

52

#

70

04

25

04

34

70

04

40

05

19

70

04

15

06

08

70

04

45

06

59

70

04

40

07

44

70

04

20

08

25

70

04

20

09

54

70

04

00

10

57

70

03

35

12

03

70

02

50

13

02

Index error == + 52 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min . sec.

Deg. min. sec.

35 17 49

0 06 49

38 42 26

Determination of longitude , February 5, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer. |

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

45

28

30

2

52

40.0

44 46

50

2

55

13.0

45

20

15

53

11.3

44 41

15

55

37.4

45

09

30

53

48.7

44 33

55

56

01.4

45

01

15

54

19.2

44 27

50

56

23.7

44

51

15

54

47.3

44 22

;

35

56

44.5

Index error = -p 52 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

h. min.
3 02

sec.

20

Longitude.

483

[ 174 ]

THE LONG CAMP.

Determination of longitude , February 14, 1S44 — altitudes of Procyon.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Procyon.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

77

06

50

6

48

02.0

77

38

00

49

32.0

77

56

50

50

28.0

78

17

40

51

28.5

78

37

30

52

27.0

Index error = + 52 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

7

02 00

0

11

36.1

120 25

57

Determination of latitude , February 14, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

79 06 20

6 55 48

79 05 30

57 09

79 03 50

58 23 -

79 03 20

59 43

79 02 00

7 00 59

79 01 35

01 51

79 00 50

02 58

79 00 10

03 58

79 • 00 00

04 53

78 58 35

05 54

Index error = 52 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude .

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min

sec.

39 30 22

7 12 46

38

41

03

[ 174 ]

484

THE LONG CAMP.*

Determination of time . February 19, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FfRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

De& r.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

| Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

48

45

15

9

00

08.4

| 49

35

10

9

02

56.0

49

02

10

01

04.3

49

43

00

03

23.0

49

09

40

01

29.2 |

49

49'

30

03

46.2

49

17

40

01

56.5

49

58

50

04

18.4

49

26

05

02

26.4

50

08

50

04

51.0

Index error ==4-50 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

9 16 21

0 13 42.8

* The daily losing rate of the chronometer, obtained from the observations at this place, is
25.82 seconds.

4

485

THE LONG CAMP.

[ 174 ]

Determination of latitude , February 19, 1844 — meridian altitudes of

the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Index error = -f- 50 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

j Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

79 17 20

11 50 58

79 17 50

51 54

79 19 10

52 44

79 19 05

53 27

79 19 40

54 10

79 20 55

55 21

79 21 20

56 15

79 21 20

57 32

79 21 50

58 25

79 21 55

59 15

79 22 05

0 00 17

79 22 00

01 14

79 21 45

02 09

79 21 35

02 59

79 21 20

03 55

79 20 15

05 14

79 20 00

06 09

79 18 30

07 39

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. see.

Deg. min. sec.

39 56 36

11 59 30

38 41 51

/

486

[ 174 ]

CAMP ON THE RIO DE LOS AMERICANOS, (HIGH IN THE MOUNTAIN.)
Determination of longitude , February 24, IS44 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Lyrse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

81

00

00

3

42

52.4 a. m.

81

35

30

44

30.0

82

01

45

45

40.6

82

25

50

46

46.3

82

59

10

48

18.6

Index error = — J— 50 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min. sec.

4 00 55 a. m.

0

15

17.2

120 34 20

Determination of latitude , February 24, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

74

44

20

3

54

08 a. mu

74

45

10

56

00

74

46

00

58

04

74

45

45

59

34

74

46

30

4

00

51

Index error = + 50 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec .

Deg. min. sec.

37 21 56

4 13 00 a. m.

38 46 58

487

[ 174 ]

NUEVA HELVETIA.

Determination of time , March 10, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

. i

! Double altitudes of the
j sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

37

40

15

7

45

33.0

38

58

00

7 49

06.7

38

00

50

46

32 0

39

16

00

49

59.0

38

14

50

47

08.0

39

27

45

50

30.5

38

33

10

47

59.5

39

40

00

51

04.4

38

45

45

48

33.6

39

53

50

51

43.0

• J

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

h.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

8

06

28

0

17

38.9

Determination of latitude , March 1 4,

, 1844 — meridian altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the

sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

96

49

40

11

21

36

97

05

05

25

22

97

17

50

29

59

97

31

00

33

28

97

37

00

35

56

97

40

40

37

33

97

41

30

38

35

97

51

50

46

58

97

52

30

47

58

97

52

15

52

00

Index error

== — 6 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

[ 174 ]

488

NUEVA HELVETIA.

Determination of latitude, March 14, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec .

h. min.

sec.

77

08

40

7 11

16

77

07

30

12

55

77

07

00

14

37

77

06

10

15

49

77

05

00

16

56

77

04

00

18

15

77

02

55

19

27

77

01

50

20

31

77

01

40

21

51

77

00

30

23

33

Time of chronometer.

Index error = — 4 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Dei*, min.

.sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

38 31

01

7 37 02

38

34

45

Determination of latitude, March 15, 1844 — meridian altitudes of the sun.

V OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

98

35

30

11

42

35

98

37

30

43

41

96

38

20

45

09

98

38

20

46

02

98

39

10

47

03

98

39

20

48

31

98

39

20

49

22

98

39

00

50

30

98

39

00

51

24

98

38

40

52

22

98

38

30

53

19

98

37

* 15

54

28

98

36

15

55

33

Index error == — 4 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

k. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

49 35 01

11 49 04

38 34 40

489

C 174 ]

NUEVA HELVETIA.

Determination of time, March 16, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOXB SERIES.

Double altitudes of the Time of chronometer,
sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec. ; h.

min.

sec.

43

27

40 7

48

23.2

43

40

00

48

58.5

43

50

00

49

27.4

44

00

10

49

54.0

44

12

40

50

28.6

Double altitudes of the i Time of chronometer,
sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

44

22

10

7.

50

55.2

44

31

35

51

20.4

44

42

00

51

53.0

44

56

30

52

30.4

45

07

50

1

53

00.5

Index error = — 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

h. min. sec.

8 10 39

h. min. sec.

0 19 58.0

Determination of latitude , March 20, 1844 — meridian altitudes of the

sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

10*

35

00

11 44

52

102

35

30

45

52

102

35

00

46

44

102

35

10

47

34

102

34

50

48

26

102

34

40

49

14

102

33

35

50

57

102

32

00

51

58

Index error = -|- 8 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

51 32 58

11 46 55

38 35 15

Mean of latitudes taken at this station between the 10th and 22d of March == 38° 34' 42".

C 174 ]

490

NUEVA HELVETIA.*

Determination of time , March 22, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun's lower limb

■ Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

rain.

sec.

h. min.

sec .

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

46

31

10

7 43

32.5

47

21

50

7

45

52.0

46

41

35

44

00.0

47

29

40

46

12.4

46

50

00

44

22.5

47

38

10

46

36.0

47

04

20

45

04.0

47

45

50

46

56.4

47

14

45

45

32.0

47

55

10

47

20.6

Index error = -J- 8 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

8 08 23

0 22 50.2

ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIO DE LOS MUKELE VINES.

Determination of longitude , March 25, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

52

16

25

3

30

49.5

51

19

10

3

33

21.4

52

05

15

31

20.5

51

11

40

33

42.5

51

52

10

31

54.6

51

00

50

34

11.6

51

41

10

32

26.0

50

52

50

34

34.0

51

30

40

32

51.0

50

44

35

34

56.0

Index error = -}- 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

3

58 39

0

25

23.7

Longitude.

Deg. rain. sec.

121 23 03

The daily losing rate of the chronometer, obtained from the observations at this place, is 25//.74.

491

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIO DE LOS MUKELEMNES.
Determination of latitude, March 25, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

75 32 30

7 22 23

75 31 25

23 28

75 29 50

25 10

75 29 25

26 07

75 28 40

27 22

75 27 40

28 21

75 26 00

29 51

75 26 40

31 14

75 24 45

32 21

75 23 45

33 10

Index error = + 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

37 42 52

7 53 21

38

08

23

ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIO DE LAS CALAVERAS.
Determination of longitude , March 26, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

|

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower

limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

54

06

00

3 26

21.0

53

05

00

3

29

03.5

53

51

45

26

59.4

52

58

30

29

22.5

53

37

50

27

34.4

52

48

35

29

48.7

53

26

30

• 28

03.6

52

39

10

30

14.0

53

15

10

28

36.7

52

26

10

1

30

49.4

Index error = 12 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

k.

min . sec.

h ■ min.

sec

Deg. min. sec.

3

54 58

0 26

16.3

121 16 22

[ 174 ]

494

ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIO DE LAS CALAVERAS.
Determination of latitude , March 26, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

__

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

14

35

7

23

33

75

14

10

24

44

75

13

15

26

07

75

12

40

1

27

30

75

11

00

29

07

75

09

50

30

32

75

08

25

32

20

75

07

40

33

31

75

05

30

35

31

75

04

35

37

23

Index error = -f- 12 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

37 33 55

7 56 22

38

02 48

ENCAMPMENT ON STANISLAUS RIVER.
Determination of latitude. March 28, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

74

07

00

7

55

32

74

06

20

56

52

74

06

00

57

49

74

05

00

59

13

74

04

10

8

00

18

74

03

20

01

37

74

02

00

03

22

74

01

00

05

03

73

59

50

%

06

22

73

58

20

08

38

Index error = -f- 12 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Dee;.

37

nun.

00

sec.

28

Mean time.

mm.

28

sec.

02

* Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

37 42 26

493

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON STANISLAUS RIVER.

Determination of longitude, March 28, 1844 — altitudes of Capella.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

»

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
Capella.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
Capella.

Time of chronometer.

Deg

. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec. j

Deg.

min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

91

02

45

8

11

31.5 i

88

48 50

9' 18

05.0

SO

' 34

20

12

54.0 1

88

27 50

19

06.3

90

01

40

14

30.0

| 88

11 00

19

57.5

89

39

20

15

35.5

87

47 19

21

08.0

89

15

30

16

46.0

86

39 40

24

1

28.5

Index error = +- 12 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

hi min. sec.

8 44 41

h. min. sec.

0 27 16.9

Deg. min. sec.

121 07 13

SECOND ENCAMPMET ON STANISLAUS RIVER.
Determinat ion of longitude, March 31, 1844 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

\

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

52

27

45

3

34

30.0

52

15

35

35

00.5

52

00

10

35

42.6

51

51

00

36

05.4

51

40

50

36

33.4

Index error = -{- 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION

h. min. sec

4 05 59

Longitude.

Deg- min. sec.

120 46 30

[ 174 ]

494

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON STANISLAUS RIVER.
Determination of latitude , March 31, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. j Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

73

46

00

8

04

57

73

44

50

06

42

73

44

25

08

00

73

43

25

09

15

73

43

10

11

23

73

41

15

12

23

73

40

40

13

45

73

39

40

15

16

73

39

00

16

1*8

73

38

10

17

37

Index error = -j- 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

1 , ? !

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

36 49 46

8 42 20

37 15 43

ENCAMPMENT ON A LARGE TRIBUTARY TO SAN JOAQUIN RIVER.

Determination of latitude , April 3, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

73

35

30

7

09

09

73

34

30

10

14

73

33

45

11

27

73

32

00

12

55

73

32

00

14

07

73

31

00

15

12

73

30

15

16

14

73

29

30

17

31

73

28

25

r .

19

14

73

27

20

20

23

Index error = 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min . sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

36 44 32

7 47 45

37 22

05

495

C *74 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A LARGE TRIBUTARY TO SAN JOAQUIN RIVER.

Determination of longitude, April 3, 1S44 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time

of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time

of chronometer.

Arcturus.

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

52

43

50

8

00

48.5

54

44

00

8

05

52.5

53

12

25

02

02.0

55

08

20

06

54.0

53

38

00

03

06.0

55

34

15

07

58.6

54

01

00

04

04.4

55

56

30

08

56.0

54

22

Q0

04

58.4

56

26

30

10

10.5

Index error = + 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

. h. min.

sec.

Deg. min. sec.

8 36 36

0 31

07.3

120 58 03

ENCAMPMENT ON SAN JOAQUIN RIVER.

Determination of latitude, April 4, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

7a

53

20

7

26

28

72

53

10

27

48

72

51

50

30

29

72

50

40

31

57

72

50

00

33

24

72

48

45

35

15

72

47

10

36

52

72

46

10

38

33

72

45

00

39

39

72

44

20

41

27

Index error = + 20 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

1

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

36 23 22

8

06 27

CO

o

00

00

Time of chronometer.

40 G

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON SAN JOAQUIN RIVER.

Det erminatiori. of 'longitude, April 4, 1 S4 l — altitudes of Arclurus .

OBSERVATIONS.

Doable altitudes of Arcturus. Time of chronometer.

Dee;.

vt in.

sec.

%.

min.

sec.

51

35

00

,7

52

57.5

52

10

40

54

26.7

52

45

v 40 !

55

55.0

53

17

40

57

16 2

53

46

' 50

58

27.7

Index error = -j- 20 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

1

Retard.

* >

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min., sec.

8 28 06

0 32 17.7

120 45 22

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON SAN JOAQUIN RIVE&.
Determination of latitude , April 5, 1S44 — altitudes of Poldris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec

h.

rain.

sec.

/

71

58

30

■ 7

44

18 ’

71

58

Oo

45

50

71

57

20

47

25

71

56

50

' . ■' >

48

53

71

55

20

50

34

71

54

00

52

11

7 1

52

20

53

56

71

52

20

"> .

55

09

71

51

15

56

14

Index error == -f- 20 sec-

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

35 56 23

8 24 20

36

:

49 12

497

[ 1T4 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON SAN JOAQUIN RIVER.
Determination of longitude , April 5, 1844 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SEETES.

Double

altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

| Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus.

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

hi min.

sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

57

46

00

8 03

05.0

62 26

10

8 14

43.5

53

38

30

05

15.5

| 62 52

45

15

50.0

59

04

15

06

'21.0

63 16

10

16

49.2

59

30

45

07

27.0

63 47

20

18

06.4

60

12

36

09

10.6

64 28

00

19

48.4

Index error = -f- 20 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

8 45 35

0 33 55. 1

120 28 34

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LAKE FORK, (OF THE TULARES.)

Determination of longitude , April 8, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES,

I

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

59

12

55

3

16

30.0

57

26

10

2

21

02.4

58

39

50

17

53.0

57

08

15

21

48.0

58

23

00

18

36.0

j 56

45

20

22

46.6

58

08

20

19

15.5

56

23

50

23

41.7

57

58

50

20

03.4

56

1

07

40

24

22 6

Index error = + 35 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min , sec.

3 59 01

0

38 06.5

119 41 40

32

I 174 ] 498

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LAKE FORK, (OF THE TULARES.)
Determination of latitude, April 8, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

71

15

15

7

21

23

71

12

30

25

07

71

11

10

26

39

Index error = 4- 35 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

De?. mm. ssc.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

35 35 15

8

02 36

36 24 50

Determination of longitude, April 8, 1844 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

52

03

15

7

32

52.5

52

42

30

34

29.5

53

22

20

36

08.0

53

54

50

37

29.0

54

29

50

38

57.0

Index error = — 35 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

8 14 15

0 38

15.6

499 [ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL STREAM, AFFLUENT TO THE LAKE TULARES.
Determination of latitude 3 April 9, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris,

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

t '

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

k. min. sec.

70 20 00

7 50 44

70 19 20

52 11

70 18 40

53 41

70 17 30

55 21

70 17 00

57 16

Index error = -f- 30. sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

35 08 01

8 33 39

36 08 38

Determination of longitude , April 9, 1844 — altitudes of Arcturus .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

66 27 50

8 03 04.5

67 07 10

04 40.4

67 41 50

06 06.7

68 10 45

07 18.5

68 40 00

08 30.0

Index error

30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

8 45 57

0 40 00.6

119

22 02

A

500

[ H4 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL STREAM, AFFLUENT TO THE LAKE

TULA RES.

Determination of latitude, April 10, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

rain.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

69

32

30

7

59

05

69

31

00

-8

01

01

69

30

00

03

26

69

28

30

04

55

69

28

50

06

04

69

26

10

09

08

69

25

40

10

39

69

25

00

13

28

69

23

50

14

37

69

23

10

1

15

49

Index error = — j— 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude .

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

34 42 35

8 50 50

35

40

10

Determination of longitude, April 10, 1844 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

!:

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chro;

tkometer. j

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus

Arcturus.

Deg. min.

sec.

h. rain.

sec.

Deg

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

82 41

40

8 37

02.0

85

02

45

8

42

47.0

82 59

30

37

45.0 !

85

27

00

43

50.5

83 31

50

39

03.0

85

57

30

45

05.0

83 54

00

40

00.5

86

28

30

46

21.0

84 16

35

40

55.0

86

48

30

47

10.6

Index error = -f- 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9

24 09

0

42

08.9

118 56 34

501

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT NEAR PASS CREEK, IN THE SIERRA NEVADA MOUNTAINS.

Determination of latitude , April 13, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

68

41

20

7

24

14

68

40

15

25

40

68

39

25

27

25

68

38

00

28

42

68

38

15

30

03

68

36

50

31

42

68

36

00

33

30

68

35

00

35

21

68

34

00

36

26

68

33

25

37

41

Index error = -4- 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

34 17 12

8 15 53

35 17 12

Determination of longitude, April 13, 1S44 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST !

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double

altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus.

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

65

57

50

7

41

21.4

68

19

50

7 47

09.0

66

31

45

42

44.0

68

45

00

48

10.0

66

58

00

43

49.7

69

11

10

49

14.0

67

26

40

44

59.5

69

34

25

50

10.7

67

40

00

45

55.7

70

00

00

51

13.4

Index error = 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

7 1

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec .

8 31 20

0 44 51.7

i

118 35 03

502

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL STREAM, EAST OF THE SIERRA NEVADA. !
Determination of latitude , April 14, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

68

16

30

7 11

03

68

15

10

12

31

68

13

50

14

02

68

13

30

14

59

68

13

10

16

07

68

12

10

17

44

68

10

50

18

57

68

10

40

20

11

68

09

25

21

49

68

08

25

23

03

Index error = — |— 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

1

|

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec -

34 05 00

8

05 24

35

03

00

Determination of longitude , April 14, 1844 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double

altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus

• *

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

62

16

15

7

26

59.0

64

42

40

7

32

53.7

62

54

20

28

30.0

65

26

30

34

42.0

63

24

00

29

41.0

65

48

00

35

33.5

63

48

30

30

42.0

66

09

45

36

26.0

64

11

50

31

39.0

66

32

30

37

22.0

Index error = — f- 30 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

h.

8

Mean time.

min. sec.
18 52

h.

0

Retard.

Longitude.

min. sec.

46 24.9

Deg. min. sec.

118 18 09

503

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT ROCK SPRING.

Determination of latitude, April 15, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

67

30

25

7-12 54

67

30

00

14 26

67

28

25

16 21

67

27

30

18 07

67

26

00

20 51

Index error = 20 sec.

Lm.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

33 42 57

8 03 15

34 41 29

Determination of longitude, April 15, 1844 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

63

32

25

7

25

56.5

64

12

15

27

31.0

65

04

10

29

36.0

65

50

00

31

26.5

66

14

20

32

28.0

Index error = -f- 20 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

J

Retard.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

8

16 07

0

46 43.4

118 20 00

I 174 ]

504

ENCAMPMENT AT ROCK SPRING.

Determination of longitude, April 16, 1S44 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

69

09

40

7 34

27.5

70 10

35

7

36

57.2

69

23

40

35

01.0

70 20

35

37

23.2

69

36

00

35

33.2

70 31

15

37

50.5

69

47

50

36

02.3

70 45

10

38

24.6

69

58

45

36

29.5

1

70 58

05

38

57.4

Index error = — 2 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
8 23 39

h. min. sec.
0 46 56.3

T

Determination of latitude , April 1 6, 1844 — meridian altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the

sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec .

130

44

00

11 06

03

130

47

50

07

34

130

50

30

10

03

130

50

45

11

56

130

50

45

13

07

130

50

30

14

12

130

50

00

15

21

130

49

20

16

06

130

48

45

16

50

130

47

40

17

36

130

45

30

18

53

130

43

45

20

06

Index error

2 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True central altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

65 40 58

11 13 55

34 41 56

Mean latitude at this encampment 34 deg. 41 min. 42 sec.

505

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE SPRING HEADS OF A SMALL STREAM AMONG THE
FOOT HILLS OF THE MOUNTAIN.

Determination of longitude, April IS, 1S44 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

i

1

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

58

06

40

3

16

44.0

56

36

25

3

20

23.0

57

46

55

17

32.4

56

16

50

21

11.8

57

31

50

18

09.0

56

04

55

21

41.2

57

19

00

18

39.4

55

52

30

22

11.3

57

04

20

19

J4.3

55

39

50

22

43.0

Index error = — 18 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. see.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec .

4 10 14

0

50 23.0

117 43 21

Determination of latitude , April IS, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

i

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

66

58

50

7

02

28

66

58

10

03

59

66

58

10

05

03

66

56

45

I

06

36

Index error = — 18 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

33 27 22

7

55 00

i CO

-vl

03

506

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE MOHAHVE RIVER, ON THE SPANISH TRAIL FROM
PUEBLO HE LOS ANGELES TO SANTA FE.

Determination of longitude . April 21, 1S44 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude

s of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

41

55

50

3

54

47.5

40

40

45

3

57

51.3

41

37

30

55

31.0

40

28

15

58

19.8

41

24

20

56

01.4

40

14

10

58

53.5

41

12

00

56

33.0

i 39

36

10

59

37.2

40

59

00

57

04.3

39

29

20

4

1

00

42.5

Index error = — 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec-

4 51 25

0 53 50.3

117 13 00

Determination of longitude, April 21, 1844 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double

altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

65

23

10

6

59

49.0

67

27

00

7

04

49.0

66

00

00

7

01

15.7

67

49

25

05

42.4

66

21

25

02

08.0

68

09

25

06

30.0

66

41

45

02

57.4

68

28

45

07

16.7

67

04

50

03

55.0

68

51

55

08

15.0

Index error = — 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 58 02

0 53 45.9

507

[ 1^4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE MOHAHVE RIVER, ON THE SPANISH TRAIL FROM
PUEBLO DE LOS ANGELES TO SANTA FE.

Determination of latitude , April 21, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

66

59

00

7

11

13

66

58

50

12

46

66

57

50

14

43

66

57

20

16

02

66

56

00

17

16

66

55

10

19

02

66

54

30

20

32

66

54

00

22

01

66

52

45

23

35

66

52

30

25

06

Index error = — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

33 26 21

8 11 59

34 34

11

Determination of longitude , Jipril 21, 1844 — distance from moon's first

limb to Regulus.

OBSERVATIONS WITH THE CIRCLE.

Time of chronometer.

Circle reading.

h. min. set.

Deg. min. sec.

7 57 15

8 01 22

135 34 50

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True distance.

Mean time at Greenwich.

Longitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

66 48 51

16 21 35.5

[ 174 ]

508

ENCAMPMENT ON SAME RIVER AS ON THE 21st.
Determination of latitude , April 24, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes

of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

67

32

45

7

15

07

67

32

00

16

40

67

31

10

18

09

67

30

25

19

41

67

30

00

21

08

67

29

20

22

12

67

28

45

23

27

67

27

55

24

41

67

27

10

27

39

67

26

15

28

46

Index error = — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

33 43 15

8 19 40

34 56 00

, 1 : 1

Determination of longitude , April 24, 1844 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOJfD

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus.

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

85

15

30

7

32

08.0

87

06

45

7

36

39.0

85

46

45

33

24.0

I 87

28

10

37

31.3

86

08

25

34

15.0

87

48

25

38

19.6

86

27

40

35

04.0

88

13

50

39

22.5

86

46

25

35

49.5

88

33

45

40

12.0

Index error — — 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

8

34 15

0 57 58-8

116 29

19

509

C 174 ]

SCALP CAMP, ON THE SPANISH TRAIL.

Determination of longitude, April 25, 1S44 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOXD

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

! Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus,

Arcturus

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg

. min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

78

43

.50

7

11

14.5

80

47

35

7

16

14.7

79

17

10

12

34.4

81

11

00

17

13.6

79

41

45

13

33.7

81

42

15

18

30.0

80

03

45

14

28 0

82

10

30

19

40.0

80

24

15

15

19.0

1

82

30

50

20

26.7

Index error = — 7 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min . sec.

8 15 01

k. min. sec.

0 59 05.9

Immersion of a2 Cancri.

Observed time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

.10 57 41

116 23 28

[ 174 ]

510

SCALP CAMP, ON THE SPANISH TRAIL.
Determination of latitude , April 25, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

68

00

00

7

24

35

67

59

30

26

21

67

58

30

28

02

67

57

20

29

17

67

57

10

30

56

67

56

40

32

35

67

55

30

33

51

67

55

40

35

09

67

54

50

36

45

67

54

00

38

26

Index error = — 7 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min . sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

33 56 57

8 30 36

35 13 08

Determination of longitude, April 25, 1S44 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Lyrse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

84

33

00

11

12

01.6

85

02

35

13

20.0

85

29

15

14

31.2

85

55

40

15

42.0

86

54

20

18

14.0

Index error = — 7 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec .

h.

min. sec.

12 14 00

0

59 14.4

511

I

[ 174 1

ENCAMPMENT AT HERNANDEZ SPRING.
Determination of longitude , April 29, 1S44 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

! Time of chronometer.

Arcturus.

Arcturus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

95

10

10

7

33

24.5

97

14

25

7

38

35.7

95

36

15

34

30.6

97

37

30

39

33.5

96

05

30

35

44.5

98

02

00

40

35.2

96

30

40

36

46.5

98

29

40

41

46.0

96

55

15

37

48.0

98

56

30

42

51.6

Index error = -f- 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

8 40 12

1

02

02.0

Determination of latitude, April 29, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

68

58

45

7

49

14

68

59

15

51

29

68

57

40

53

20

68

57

20

54

38

*

68

56

40

56

58

Index error = — |— 1 0

RELULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

34 27 38

8 55 04

35 51 21

512

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT DEEP SPRING HOLE, ON A RIVER WHICH LOSES ITSELF

IN SANDS.

Determination of latitude, May 1, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Doable altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

69

31

25

6

49

08

69

30

40

50

26

69

30

10

52

17

69

29

50

53

38

69

28

15

56

07

69

27

40

/

57

20

69

26

30

58

55

69

25

45

7

01

38

69

25

20

03

02

69

24

40

04

16

Index error = + 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

34 43 07

8 01 58

35

58

19

Determination of longitude, May 1, 1844 — altitudes of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIHST SERIES.

SECOXD

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double

altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus,

Arcturus

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

89

07

30

7

07

15.8

91

25

20

7 12

57.0

89

52

50

09

07.5

91

48

35

13

54.2

90

15

00

10

03.7

92

10

30

14

49.5

90

38

20

11

00.6

92

34

45

15

51.0

91

00

15

11

55.5

92

59

20

16

52.0

Index error = 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min% sec.

8 17 45

1 05 22.5

513

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT LAS VEGAS, (THE MARSHES.)
Determination of longitude , May 3, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

[Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

I Double altitudes of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

56

56

45

3

12

04.3

55

34

00

3

15

31.0

56

36

10

12

56.2

55

17

30

16

11.0

56

17

50

13

41.0

55

04

45

16

42.6

56

03

00

14

18.5 ;

54

49

40

17

21.0

55

48

35

14

54.0 |

54

33

10

18

01.0

Index error = -j- 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h . min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

4 22 58,

1

07

48.2

Determination of latitude , May 3, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

V •

h.

min.

sec.

69

40

00

7

17

22

r

69

39

50

18

51

69

39

55

20

04

69

38

50

22

08

69

38

20

23

22

69

37

30

24

45

69

37

25

26

27

69

37

15

27

33

69

36

10

29

19

69

36

10

30

34

Index error =

= 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec .

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

34 47 45

8

31 50

36 10

20

33

[ 174 ]

514

ENCAMPMENT ON A BRANCH OF THE RIO VIRGEN.

Determination of latitude , May 5, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg;.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

70

44

20

6

49

23

70

43

45

6

51

10

70

42

40

6

53

26

70

41

40

6

54

55

70

42

00

6

56

21

70

40

30

6

58

06

70

39

40

7

00

10

70

39

10

7

02

43

70

38

30

7

04

11

70

38

20

7

05

15

Time of chronometer.

Index error =± + 10 sec.
RESULT OP CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

,Z1 •:

Deg.

35

min. sec.
19 15

k. min. sec.
8 08 26

Deg.

36

min.

38

sec.

56

Determination of longitude , May 5, 1844 — altitudes of a Virginis .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Virginis.

Time

of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h .

min.

sec.

71

14

45

7

13

09.0

71

38

10

14

49.6

71

59

50

16

15.5

72

19

20

17

44.0

72

37

35

19

05.0

Index error *= — J— 10 sec.

• J •

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

h.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

8

27

07

1

10

55.9

Longitude.

[ 174 3

515

ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIO VIRGEN.

Determination of longitude, May 6, IS44— altitudes of Arcturus,

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

k. min. sec.

86 06 10

6 33 23.0

86 41 00

34 50.0

87 10 00

36 01.5

Index error

= — 1 0 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 47 15

1 12 30.5

J - ■ — — _

Determination of latitude^ May 6, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

— i

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

70

41

30

6

54

30

70

40

15

56

12

70

39

45

57

55

70

40

00

59

03

70

39

10

7

00

35

70

38

40

02

48

70

37

15

04

23

70

37

20

06

24

70

36

10

08

03

70

35

55

09

21

Time of chronometer.

Index error — 4- 10 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

)

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

35 18 01

8 14 24

36 39 33

[ 174 ]

516

ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIO VIRGEN.

Determination of longitude , May 7, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer. :

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec. i

43

34

50

5

44

23.2

43

50

00

45

01.4

44

10

00

45

50.5

44

24

10

46

27.0

44

41

45

47

10.0

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of tlie
sun’s lower limb.

Deg. min. sec.

45, 00 00

45 11 15

45 26 15

45 38 10

45 49 35

Time of chronometer.

mm.

47

48

49

49

50

sec.

55.4

24.3

02.2

31.8

00.0

Index error = — 10 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

s'/.

6

59 58

1 12

15.5

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIO VIRGEN.
Determination of longitude , May 8, 1844 — altitude of Jlrcturus.

OBSERVATION.

Double altitude of Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min. sec.

103 15

10

1

7

07 02

Index error =

= -p 10 sec.

RESULT

OF CALCULATION

Mean time..

Retard.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

3

21 43

1

14

41.3

517

[ *74 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIO VIRGEN.
Determination of latitude , May S, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

70

58

50

70

58

40

70

58

50

70

57

00

70

58

10

Time of chronometer.

h.

min.

sec.

7

11

36

13

08

14

37

15

58

17

11

Index error = 4- 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Peg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

35 27 52

8

29 09

36

53 03

Determination of longitude , May 9, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Peg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

54

44

10

6

08

27.4

55

51

10

6

11

12.8

54

59

20

09

04.0

56

02

30

11

42.0

55

13

10

09

37.8

56

11

55

12

04.4

55

27

35

10

17.0

56

21

20

12

29.4

55

39

40

1

10

47.0

56

29

40

12

51.3

Index error = — 2 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

Ji. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

7 25 21

1

14

29.3

[ i'4 ]

518

THIRD ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIO VIRGEN.
Determination of latitude, May 9, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

70 55 10

7 25 42

70 55 15

26 56

70 55 50

28 12

70 55 00

29 42

70 54 30

30 54

70 54 30

31 58

70 54 30

33 17

70 54 10

34 37

70 53 10

36 11

70 53 20

37 20

Index error = — 2 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

35 25 53

8 45 59

36 53

40

ENCAMPMENT ON SANTA CLARA FORK OF THE RIO VIRGEN.
Determination of latitude , May 10, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. ( Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

71

29

45

7

16

36

71

29

20

17

38

71

29

40

19

49

71

29

30

20

56

71

28

50

23

06

71

28

30

24

39

71

27

45

25

49

71

27

30

27

08

71

27

30

28

25

71

26

50

30

44

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

519

[ ]

ENCAMPMENT AT SANTA CLARA FORK OF THE RIO VIRGEN.

Determination of longitude, May 11, 1844 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

De^.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

57

10

15

2

08

24.5

56

27

40

10

12.2

56

06

55

11

02.0

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

ENCAMPMENT AT VEGAS DE SANTA CLARA.

Determination of longitude , May 12, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

EIRST !

SERIES.

SECOXD !

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

55

20

45

3

13

11.0

54

09

00

3

16

11.3

55

05

10

13

50.2

53

58

30

16

39.3

54

51

25

14

24.8

53

49

10

17

02.2

54

38

20

14

57.4

53

39

15

17

27.5

54

24

50

15

29.4

53

27

40

17

57.0

Index error = -j- 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

4 32 22

1 16 38.0

[ 1T4 ]

520

ENCAMPMENT AT VEGAS DE SANTA CLARA.
Determination of latitude, May 12, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

72

05

30

7

10

13

72

05

00

11

42

72

05

20

13

05

72

04

00

14

26

72

04

30

15

40

72

03

30

18

09

72

03

10

19

47

72

02

45

20

57

72

02

35

22

00

72

02

30

23

10

Index error = -J- 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min . sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

36 00 45

8

33 33

37 28

28

Determination of longitude, May 14, 1844 — altitudes of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST !

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min. sec.

h .

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

47

27 30

5

43

32.0

48

33

10

5 46

17.4

47

42 30

44

10.5

48

45

00

46

49.0

47

55 45

44

43.2

48

56

15

47

16.7

48

08 00

45

13.7

49

07

00

47

43.6

48

19 40

1

45

44.5

49

19

20

48

14.8

Index error = + 7 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

521

[ ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A FINE ROLLING PRAIRIE, AT THE SPRING-HEAD OF
A TRIBUTARY TO SEVIER LAKE.

Determination of latitude. May 19, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

73

35

45

7

43

07

73

36

00

44

26

73

35

50

46

44

73

36

20

48

03

73

36

50

51

11

73

36

30

52

55

73

36

50

55

09

73

36

35

57

45

73

36

40

59

27

73

37

10

8

02

53

Index error = + 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

36 47 00

h. min. sec.

9 15 54

Deg. min. sec.
38 18 20

Determination of longitude, May 19, 1844 — altitudes of a Lyrae.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a

Lyras.

a

Lyras.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

62

36

50

8

06

59.0

64

33

50

8

12

31.0

63

00

20

08

05.0

64

53

30

13

27.0

63

23

20

09

09.6

65

12

50

14

22.0

63

48

10

10

21.0

65

33

10

15

17.0

64

11

35

11

27.5

65

51

50

16

11.0

Thermometer 40°.

Index error = — j— 1 0 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

9 34 3

1 22 44.3

[ 174 ]

522

I

ENCAMPMENT ON SEVIER RIVER.

Determination of latitude , May 23, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

observations.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

45

10

7

46

13

75

45

20

48

20

75

45

20

50

07

75

44

50

51

32

75

44

20

54

13

Index error = + 7 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.
37 51 18

h. min. sec.
9 15 30

Deg. min. sec.
39 22 19

Determination of longitude , May 23, 1844 — altitudes of a, Lyrx.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

Double altitudes of
a Lyrae.

Deg. min . sec.

67 15 25

67 37 20

67 56 20

Time of chronometer.

h. min. sec.

7 58 17.0

59 17.5

8 00 11.0

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of
a Lyra.

Deg. min. sec.

68 16 10

68 36 15

68 55 10

Index error = 7 sec.

Time of chronometer.

h. min. sec.
8 01 08.5

02 05.0

02 58.4

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

9 26 58

1 26 18.3

523

C »74 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE FIRST STREAM OF UTAH LAKE.

Determination of latitude, May 24, 1S44 — Spica Virginis in the me

ridian .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Spica Virginis.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

mm.

sec.

79

34

10

7

20

38

79

37

00

21

51

79

39

10

22

54

79

42

05

24

14

79

44

10

25

23

79

45

50

26

26

79

47

15

27

29

79

49

30

29

12

79

50

50

30

22

79

52

30

32

07

79

53

30

33

25

79

54

15

34

36

79

54

30

35

49

79

54

25

36

59

79

55

10

38

12

79

55

05

39

41

79

54

40

40

54

79

54

10

42

01

79

53

15

43 .

15

79

52

05

44

29

79

51

00

46

01

Index error = -f- 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude .

Deg. min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg. min . sec.

39 56 21

7 38

*7 |

39 42 37

524

[174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE FIRST STREAM OF UTAH LAKE.
Determination of latitude , May 24, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

A.

min.

sec.

76

24

40

7

50

41

76

25

00

52

07

76

24

25

53

51

76

25

00

54

59

76

25

15

57

Index error = -f- 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

38 11 14

9 20 54

39 41 52

Mean latitude 39 deg. 42 min. 15 sec.

Determination of longitude, May 24, 1844 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a Lyrse.

a Lyrse.

Deg. min. sec.

A. min . sec.

Deg. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

70 08 25

8 00 54.4

71 10 00

8 03 48.5

70 31 10

01 59.0

71 30 35

04 47.0

70 49 50

02 50.7

71 49 45

05 41.2

)

Thermometer 40°.

Index error = + 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

A. min. sec.

9 30 31

A. min. sec.

1 27 10.0

•

525

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A RIGHT-HAND BRANCH OF SPANISH FORK.
Determination of longitude. May 27, 1S44 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a Lyrse.

1

a

Lyrae.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec .

57

04

50

7

07

47.5

58

39

45

7

12

26.5

57

26

50

08

50.0

59

00

00

13

27.4

57

47

20

09

51.0

59

16

40

14

14.6

58

03

50

10

40.0

59

32

00

15

00.0

58

19

45

11

27.4

t

59

50

15

15

55.0

Index error = + 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h.

min. see.

h.

min.

sec.

8

41 40

1

29

41.6

Determination of latitude , May 27, 1S44 — Spica Virginis in themeridian .

observations.

Double altitudes of Spica Virginis.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

79 10 10

7 20 34

79 10 10

22 05

79 10 15

23 20

79 10 35

24 49

79 09 50

26 48

79 09 25

28 04

Index error =

= 4-5 se\

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of

transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

h.

min. sec.

39 34 06

7 24

06

40

04 52

526

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A RIGHT-HAND BRANCH OF SPANISH FORK,

Determination of latitude, May 27, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec .

77 09 15

7 35 38

77 08 40

36 58

77 08 50

38 06

77 09 10

39 20

77 09 20

40 25

Thermometer 40°.
Index error = — 5 i

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

l ~

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec

Deg. min. sec.

38 33 21

1

9 07 47

40 04 03

Mean latitude 40 deg. 4 min. 27 sec.

ENCAMPMENT AT THE HEAD OF SPANISH FORK.

Determination of latitude , May 2S, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. ; Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec .

h.

min.

sec.

76

50

10

7

08

30

76

50

00

09

40

76

50

10

10

51

76

49

50

12

27

76

50

00

13

45

76

50

00

15

10

76

49

50

17

26

76

50

20

19

01

76

50

20

20

10

76

50

10

21

04

Index error = -f- ft sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

38 23 52

1 8

45 32

39 55

11

527

[ 174 3

ENCAMPMENT AT TKE HEAD OF SPANISH FORK.

Determination of longitude , May 28, 1844 — altitude s of <* Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer, i

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a Lyrae.

a Lyrae.

Beg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

64 24 50

7 24 42.4

| 65 .39 30

7 28 16.0

64 59 30

26 19.4

j 65 59 20

29 13.0

65 20 00

27 18.5

66 18 45

30 10.0

Thermometer 42°.

Index error = -f- 8 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

8 58 24

1 30 44.4

ENCAMPMENT AT THE HEAD OF UINTAH RIVER.

Determination of latitude , May 29, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

77

00

10

7 09

56

77

00

00

12

17

77

00

10

14

03

77

00

00

15

16

77

00

35

17

21

77

00

00

18

51

77

00

30

20

17

77

00

20

22

09

77

00

50

23

40

77

00

35

26

15

Thermometer 46°.

Index error — + 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

/;. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

38 28 59

i

00

tn

O

K)

*f*

4u

00

07

[ 174 ]

528

ENCAMPMENT AT THE HEAD OF UINTAH RIVER.

Determination of longitude , May 29, 1844 — altitudes of a Lyrx .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer. |

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a Lyrae.

a Lyrae.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec .

57 32 15

6 58 44.0

59 04 15

7 03 11.6

57 56 30

59 54.5

59 44 10

05 10.0

58 43 10

7 02 12.0

60 05 15

06 12.0

Index error = -f- 5 sec .
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

8 35 02

1

32 27.6

-

ENCAMPMENT ON DUCHESNE FORK.

Determination of latitude, May 30, 1844 — altitudes of Spica Virginia,

near the meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Spica Virginis.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

78 36 30

7 16 44

78 34 45

18 06

Index error = -|- 5 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Apparent time of transit.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg . min. sec.

39 20 11

7 08 52

40 18 47

529

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON DUCHESNE FORK.

Determination of longit ude,. May 30, 1844 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a

Lyrae.

a Lyrae.

Deg.

min. see.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

67

33 45

7

22 32.0

69 37 50

7 28

27.0

68

03 10

23 55.5

! 70 00 00

29

31.0

68

35 35

25 28.6

70 24 50

30

42.0

68

55 10

26 25.0

70 42 00

31

31.2

69

14 20

27 19.4

70 58 40

32

19.3

Index error

= 4-5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

1

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

i

h. min. sec.

9 00 57

1 33 07.9

Immersion of 6 Scorpii.

Observed time.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min

. sec.

9 00

89

112 18

30

• <*

[ 174 ]

530

ENCAMPMENT ON DUCHESNE FORK
Determination of latitude , May 30, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris,

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

77

41

00

7

36

32

77

40

50

; *

37

58

77

40

25

39

27

77

41

15

41

20

77

40

50

42

39

77

41

30

44

05

77

41

50

45

30

77

42

15

46

37

77

41

40

47

48

77

42

20

49

01

Time of chronometer.

Thermometer 48°.
Index error = -f- 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

k. min,, sec.

Deg. min. sec.

38 49 32

9 16 14

40 18 58

Mean latitude 40 deg. 18 min. 52 sec.

AT UINTAH FORT.

Determination of longitude, June 3, 1S44 — altitudes of a Lyrse .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

11

1

SECOND

SERIES.

double altitudes of
a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Double

a

altitudes of
Lyrae.

Time of chronometer

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

65 58

30

6

57

55.0

67

31

40

7 02

26.0

36 20

30

59

00.0

67

49

00

03

14.0

66 41

10

59

59.6

68

07

25

04

08.2

67 00

20

7

00

54.5

68

24

15

04

56.4

67 15

10

01

37.6

68

52

20

06

18.9

Index error == 6 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

8 39 08

1 37 05. §

531

[ 174 ]

AT UINTAH FORT

Determination of latitude , June 3, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS,

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg;, min. sec.

h . min sec.

77 55 20

7 09 58

77 55 30

il 17

77 55 45

12 27

77 55 40

13 43

77 55 45

14 46

77 55 20

15 49

77 56 20

16 53

77 55 50

17 57

77 56 10

18 54

77 56 00

19 47

Thermometer 58°.

Index error = -j- 6 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

y

Mean time. #

Latitude.

Dee', min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

38 56 44

8 52 14

40 27 45

C 174 ]

532

AT UINTAH FORT.

Determination of longitude , June 4, 1844 — altitudes of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

/

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

52

18

55

5

25

39.0

53

30

00

5

28

48.5

52

34

35 |

26

20.3

53

46

00

29

30.4

52

46

00

26

53.5

53

57

25

30

01.0

52

59

35 |

27

27.0

54

15

50

30

48.5

53

16

46 i

28

116

II

54

29

30

31

25.3

Index error = -f- 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

k. min. sec.

n. min. sec.

7 05 43

1 37 11.6

Immersion of Jupiter's first satellite .

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

min.

sec.

Deg. min.

sec .

0

57 05.5 a. m.

2

34

14.2 a. m.

109 56

42

533

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON ASHLEY'S FORKo

Determination of longitude , June 5, 1844 — altitudes of » Lyrx .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
a Lyrae.

Time

[of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
a Lyrse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

67

09

30

6

51

19.0

69 49

30

6

58

59.7

67

31

20

52

21.6

70 09

30

59

58.2

67

49

40

53

15.7

70 27

10

7

00

48.4

68

10

35

54

15.2

70 46

45

01

44.7

68

29

15

55

09.0

71 07

05

02

42.0

Index error = -f- 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

8 36 17

1 39 14.0

Determination of latitude , June 5, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

77

58

40

7

07

00

77

58

50

08

18

77

58

30 *

09

35

77

59

30

11

26

77

59

50

13

10

78

00

00

14

34

78

00

15

16

03

78

00

15

17

08

78

00

30

18

59

78

00

10

19

56

Thermometer 60°.
Index error = -f- 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

38 58 42

8 52 57

40 28

07

534

E

ENCAMPMENT ON ASHLEY’S FORK.

Determination of longitude , June 6, 1844 — altitudes of Jlrcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

51 31 50

0 20 37.0 a. m.

51 09 50

21 34.5

50 50 40

22 25.0

50 34 00

23 08.5

50 15 15

23 57.7

Thermometer 46°.

Index error == -{- 8 sec.
RESULT OP CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

2

01

43 a. m.

1 0 39

22.4

Immersion of Jupiter’s second satellite .

Observed time.

Mean time.

Longitude.

k. min. sec.

k. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

0 38 39 a. m.

2 18 02 a. m.

109 27

07

535

[ ]

ENCAMPMENT AT BROWN’S HOLE, ON GREEN RIVER,
Determination of longitude , June 7, 1844 — altitudes of a Lyrm „

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOUD

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
a Lyras.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer..

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

70

56

20

6

50

21.0

76

18

15

7

05

42.5

71

17

20

51

23.0

76

41

35

06

46.5

71

35

30

52

14.0

76

59

00

07

36.®

71

55

10

53

10.0

77

16

40

08

25.®

72

17

40

54

14.0

77

37

00

09

27J&

Index error = + 8 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

8 42 27

1 42 31.1

/

Determination of latitude , Jane 7, 1S44 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

78 38 50

7 13 57

78 38 45

15 19

78 38 30

17 05

78 39 15

18 26

78 39 10

19 59

78 40 25

21 23

78 40 05

22 36

Thermometer 61°.

Index error = -|- 8 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

39 18 31

9 00 56

40 46 27

536

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT BROWN’S HOLE, ON GREEN RIVER.

Determination of longitude , June S, 1844 — altitudes of the sun*

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg,

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

59

50

25

5

39

34.0

61

01

35

5

42

43.4

60

06

00

40

16.5

61

18

55

43

28.3

60

19

45

40

52.3

61

33

00

44

05.6

60

33

20

41

27.0

61

46

10

44

41.2

60

48

40

42

07.3

61

56

55

45

09.4

Thermometer 89°.

Index error = -|- 8 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 24 58

1

1 42 32.3

ENCAMPMENT ON ELK HEAD RIVER.
Determination of longitude , June 10, 1844 — altitudes of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

1 Double altitudes of
a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

26

15

6

46

44.0

76

56

50

6

50

59.0

75

44

20

47

33.3

77

14

00

51

48 0

76

06

10

48

35 0

77

35

00

52

48.4

76

21

50

49

20.2

77

52

15

53

36 4

76

37

40

50

05.0

78

09

50

54

26.0

Index error = -f- 4 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

8

37 18

1

46

49 6

(£/* Correct this longitude on map.

53

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON ELK HEAD RIVER.

3th r?n in at to n of latitude , June 10, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

79

02

30

6

57

57

79

02

45

59

24

79

03

40

7

00

29

79

03

00

01

41

79

04

10

03

46

79

04

20

04

58

79

04

30

06

34

79

04

50

08

05

79

05

35

09

18

79

05

30

10

35

Thermometer 57°.
Index error = -4- 4 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

9kg\ min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

39 30 53

8 50 59

40

58

37

(Xjr’Correct this latitude on map.

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON ELK HEAD RIVER.

Iteter ruination of latitude , June 11, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

79

14

40

7

19

47

79

15

40

22

14

79

16

25

24

01

79

16

40

26

19

79

17

30

28

02

79

18

00

29

07

Index error = -J- 6 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Beg. min. sec.

39 37 07

mm.

14

sec.

42

Latitude.

Deg.

41

min.

01

sec.

11

[ 174 ]

538

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON ELK HEAD RIVER.
Determination of longitude , June 11, 1844 — altitudes of a CygnL

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Cygni.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

57

21

40

7

32

31.0

57

51

40

34

08.0

58

13

00

35

17.5

Time of chronometer.

Bad observations.
Thermometer 53°.
Index error = 6 s

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min . sec.

9 23 46

1 49 47. 1

ENCAMPMENT IN THE VALLEY OF THE NORTH FORK OF THE PLATTE,
AT THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAINS.

Determination of latitude , June 13, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

79 56 40

7 31 46

79 57 40

33 02

79 58 10

34 16

79 59 00

36 08

79 59 15

37 25

79 59 40

38 31

80 00 35

40 06

80 00 15

41 12

80 01 15

42 18

80 01 20

43 25

Index error = + 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. zee.

k. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

39 58 36

9 29 10

41 18 48

539 [ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT IN THE VALLEY OF THE NORTH FORK OF THE PLATTE, AT
THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAINS.

Determination of longitude , June 13, 1844 — altitudes of a Jlquilse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a

Aquilse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

43 33

50

7

47

56.0

44 09

40

49

33.6

44 37

40

50

49.5

Index error = — f— 10 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

9 40 47

1 51 21.0

Determination of longitude, June 13, 1844 — altitudes of a Cygni.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

68

02

40

7

55

22.0

68

26

00

56

33.0

68

47

40

57

40.7

Thermometer 54°.

Index error = -f- 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sfic.

h. min. sec.

9 47 53

1 51 21.1

*

540

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT IN THE SAME VALLEY AS ON THE 13th, BUT HIGHER.

Determination of latitude , June 14, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

79

36

25

7

28

28

79

37

25

29

23

79

38

00

30

21

79

37

30

31

26

79

28

20

32

21

79

39

30

33

16

Index error = 7 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

39 47 49

9 23 46

41

08

16

Determination of longitude, June 14, 1844 — altitudes of a Cygni .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

k. min. sec.

63 30 50

7 36 05.0

63 51 30

37 10.0

63 08 40

38 07.0

63 26 50

39 03.0

63 43 30

39 56.0

65 01 00

40 51.0

Thermometer 56°.

Index error = 7 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

9 31 26

1 52

54.1

541

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT NEW PARK.

Determination of latitude , June 15, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

79 03 10

7 14 37

79 03 30

16 16

79 04 00

17 34

79 03 50

18 42

79 05 00

20 20

79 05 30

21 35

79 05 45

23 00

79 06 00

24 05

79 06 40

25 18

79 07 25

26 37

Index error •

= 4-7 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

39 31 25

9 15 18

40 52

44

Determination of longitude , June 15, 1844 — altitudes of a Cygni.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

63 08 50

7 30 25.0

63 32 45

31 42.0

63 50 00

32 36.0

- 64 05 10

33 24.2

64 21 30

34 15.0

Thermometer 44°.

Index error = 7 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

9 26 51

1

54

22.6

[ 174 ]

542

SECOND ENCAMPMENT AT NEW PARK
Determination of latitude , June 16, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min •

sec.

A.

min.

sec.

78

30

00

7

27

24

78

30

10

28

28

78

30

50

29

51

78

31

30

30

53

78

31

30

31

55

78

32

30

33

00

78

33

10

33

58

78

33

30

34

51

78

33

30

36

04

78

34

20

;

37

35

Time of chronometer .

Index error = -|- 10

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

39 14 56

9 26 19

40 33

22

Determination of longitude , June 16, 1844 — altitudes of a Cygni.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Cygni.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

69 34 40

7 48 20.0

69 53 25

49 17.5

70 16 25

50 29.3

70 34 30

51 24.6

70 57 00

52 35.0

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

A. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

9 44 19

1 53 54.1

5i3

[ 174 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT AT NEW PARK

Determination of longitude, June 16, 1844 — altitude of a Lyrse.

OBSERVATION.

Double altitude of a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec. •

h. min. sec .

111 10 10

7 55 11.5

Thermometer 38°.

Index error = 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min . sec.

h. min. sec.

9 49 07

1 53 55.2

ENCAMPMENT ON OLD PARK, AT THE FORK OF GRAND RIVER.

Determination of latitude, June 19, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

77

26

15

77

27

00

77

27

00

77

28

00

77

28

40

77

29

20

77

29

10

77

30

25

77

30

20

77

31

20

Time of chronometer.

min.

sec.

33

28

34

50

35

54

36

54

38

28

39

38

40

38

41

47

43

06

44

14

Index error = 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

38 43 13

9

33 51

39 57

26

544

[ 1^4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON OLD PARK, AT THE"FORK OF/GRAND RIVER.

Determination of longitude , June 19, 1844 — altitudes of * Jlquibz.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIB ST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of '

Time of chronaoMfinE.

a

Aquilae.

a

Aquilae

,

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

•*x.

54

07

20

7

47

38.5

56

11

35

7

53

54

36

30

48

55.6

56

38

45

54

22 .6

55

00

00

49

58.5

57

00

20

55

mo

55

27

50

51

11.7

57

37

50

57

•w

55

48

50

52

09.0

57

57

30

57

Thermometer 48°.

Index error = 5 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Meant time.

Retard.

Longitude.

A. ram. sec.

h.

ram. sec.

9 47 45

1

■

54 58.8

ENCAMPMENT AT THE ENTRANCE OF BAYOU SALADE, HEAD OF Ni
TAINE-QUI-BOUIT ? SOUTH FORK OF THE PLATTE ?

Determination of latitude , June 22, 1844 — altitudes of Pola&bu

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometei.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

76 15 20

7 25 09

76 15 50

26 39

76 16 30

27 48

76 16 45

28 51

76 16 40

29 58

76 17 25

31 03

76 18 10

32 05

76 18 50

33 12

76 19 40

34 01

76 19 50

34 47

— — — 4*.

Index error = 4- 10 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

— — —

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sea.

38 07 36

9 27 21

39 20 m

— -■

515

C ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE ENTRANCE OF BAYOU SALADE, HEAD OF FON-
TAINE QUI-BO HIT ? SOUTH FORK OF THE PLATTE ?

Determination of longit ude, June 22, 1844 — altitudes of a Jlquilae.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIKST SERIES.

SECOXD

SERIES.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

a A quite.

a Aquite.

Deg. min. sec.

h. ruin. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

55 30 30

7 37 00.5

57 11 35

7 41 26.3

55 55 40

38 05.6

57 31 35

42 20.0

56 15 00

38 58.0

57 51 10

43 13.2

56 33 40

39 46.7

58 10 00

44 03.0

56 52 00

40 35.5

58 36 30

•45 12.4

Thermometer 38°.
Index error = LO sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

9 37 53

1

h . min.
1 56

sec.

48.7.

*

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL AFFLUENT TO THE ARKANSAS.
Determination of latitude , June 26, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

74

40

15

6

37

29

74

41

10

39

42

74

42

40

41

03

74

43

20

42

24

74

43

30

43

16

74

44

00

44

20

74

44

10

45

29

74

44

45

46

56

74

45

20

47

58

74

45

50

49

07

Index error — -f- 7 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

k. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

37 20 34

9 45 08

38 39 22

35

[ 174 ] 546

ENCAMPMENT ON A SMALL AFFLUENT TO THE ARKANSAS.
Determination oj longitude, June 26, 1844 — altitudes of a Cygni.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Cygni. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h •

min.

■sec.

66

13

45

G

57

33.5

66

59

00

59

51.6

67

18

20

7

00

51.0

67

38

50

01

53.4

Thermometer 38°.

Index error =» 7 sec.

RESULT OK CALCULATION

*

Mean time.

1

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min ■ sec.

h. min. sec..

9 01 *24

2 01 21.6

ENCAMPMENT ON A LARGER AFFLUENT TO THE ARKANSAS.

Determination of latitude, June 28, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

74

28

10

74

-29

10

74

29

10

74

29

20

74

30

35

74

31

40

74

32

15

74

32

50

74

34

00

74

34

45

Index error

Time of chronometer.

min.

sec.

08

48

10

*26 ’

11

32

13

00

14

23

16

23

17

38 _

18

51

20

24

21

33

-f- 8 sec.

True altitude.

Deg. min. sec.
37 14 24

RESULT

OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Latitude.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9

18 05

38 23 48

547

[ W4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A LARGER AFFLUENT TO THE ARKANSAS.
Determination of longitude , June 28, 1844 — altitudes of a Aquilse .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
a Aqnilas.

I Time of chronometer. !

Double altitudes of j
a Aquilse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

62 28 30

7 24 39.5

64 49 10

7 30 50.0

63 01 20

26 04.3

65 28 25

32 36.5

63 22 40

27 01.0

66 00 10

33 58.0

63 55 30

64 23 15 !

28 26.6
29 41.4

1 1

66 23 35

66 53 00

•

35 01.0

36 21.8

Thermometer 56°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

k. min. sec.

9 33 15

2 02 46.9

, ; i

•

ENCAMPMENT AT THE JUNCTION OF THE ARKANSAS AND FONTAINE-QUI-

BOUIT RIVERS.

Determination of latitude , June 29, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS. ^

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

74

09

00

6

59

05

74

09

15

60

20

74

10

35

61

23

74

10

20

62

30

74

11

40

63

51

74

11

50

64

55

74

13

00

66

00

74

12

50

67

00

74

13

50

68

06

74

14

00

69

22

Index error = -f- 10 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

-

Latitude.

>

Deg. min. sec,

37 C4 37

h. min. sec.

9 08 49

Deg.

38

min.

15

sec.

23

548

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE JUNCTION OF THE ARKANSAS AND FONTAINE-QUI-

BOUIT RIVERS.

Determination of longitude, June 29, 1844 — altitudes of Jlltair

OBSERVATIONS.

FTRRT SETIIES.

SECOND

SERIE9.

✓

Double a!titudes of
Altair.

i

Time of chronometer. |

Double altitudes of
Altair.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

sec .

71

38

50

\ 7 43

14.0

74

12

30

7

50

08.0

72

05

10

44

22.7

74

32 *

45

-

51

03.0

72

26

30

45

21.0

74

52

10

51

56.6

72

52

30

46

29.5

75

13

10

52

53.2

73

16

00

47

34 5

75

37

45

54

01.0

Index error = — J— 10 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time

h.

v< in.

sec.

h.

min. sec.

9

53

16

2

04 33.7

Longitude.

ENCAMPMENT NEAR BENT’S FORT, ON THE ARKANSAS RIVER.
Determination of latitude, July 2, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. j Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

73

58

40

7

06

38

73

59

10

08

OS

73

61

30

10

54

73

62

10

12

05

73

62

50

13

03

73

63

00

13

57

73

64

10

15

05

73

64

30

16

11

73

65

15

17

20

73

65

30

18

25

Index error = -f- 7 sec.

True altitude.

Deg. min. sec.
37 00 07

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

h. min . sec.

9 28 28

Latitude.

Deg. min.
38 02

sec.

08

5 4 9

[ *74 ]

ENCAMPMENT NEAR BENT'S FORT, ON THE ARKANSAS RIVER.

Defer min fit ion of longitude , duly 2, 1S44 — altitudes of Jilt air.

OBSERVATION?.

V

FTRST

seuies.

SECOND

SERTE3.

Double altitudes of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of

| Time of chronometer.

Altair.

Altair.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

72

12

20

7

21

47.0

74

11

10

7 27

07.4

72

30

30

22

35 0

74

35

20

28

13.0

72

50

00

23

27.7

74

57

10

29

10.0

73

12

30

24

27.5

75

20

20

30

13.5

73

41

10

i

25

45.0

lb

37

40

31

04.5

Index error — 7 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
9 41 40

h. jnin. sec.

2 15 17.2

ENCAMPMENT ON SMOKY HILL RIVER.
Determination of latitude , July 9, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec .

75

39

10

3

58

57

75

58

50

4

14

10

Time of chronometer.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

j

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.
37 53 15

A. min. sec.
9 15 03

Deg. min. sec.
38 51 15

i

[ 1-4 ]

550

ENCAMPMENT ON SMOKY HILL RIVER.

Determination of longitude, July 9, 1844 — altitudes of a. Aquilx .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Aquilffi.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

72

36

45

4

03

43.0

73

39

50

06

36.0

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

-

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.
9 13 40

h.

5

min.

08

sec.

30.3

4

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON SMOKY HILL RIVER.
Determination of latitude , July 10, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris ,

OBSERVATIONS. v

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

52

00

4

00

55

75

55

00

05

51

75

54

50

06

59

75

56

10

07

58

75

57

00

09

11

75

58

00

10

15

75

58

00

11

U

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Time of chronometer.

True altitude.

Deg. min. sec .
37 56 36

Deg. min . sec .
38 52 22

551

[ 174 ]

SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON SMOKY HILL RIVER.
Determination of longitude , July 10, 1814 — altitudes of a *dquilas.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes

of Aquilse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

79

25

20

4 16

41

79

45

20

17 '

39

80

16

45

v 19

06

80

38

40

20

09

81

02

40

21

17

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

9 29 34

5 10 35.8

THIRD ENCAMPMENT ON SMOKY HILL RIVER.

Determination of latitude , July 13, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Time of chronometer.

h. min. sec.

3 50 20

52 00

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

-

Latitude.

Deg.- min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

37 50 05

9 06 07

38

45

57

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

75

42

30

75

42

50

[ 174 ]

552

THIRD ENCAMPMENT ON SMOKY HILL RIVER.
Determination of longitude , July 13, 1844 — altitude of a Aquilae .

OBSERVATION.

Double altitude of a Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min . sec.

77 51 20

3 55 51.5

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

9 ltf 50

h. min. sec.

5 14 58.3

ENCAMPMENT ON SMOKY HILL RIVER, BELOW THE PAWNEE VILLAGE.
Determination of longitude , July 17, 1844 — altitudes of a Aquilae.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

75

13

10

75

33

15

75

5 J

45

76

13

20

76

33

10

76

49

40

h.

min.

sec.

3

26

52.0

/

27

46.0

28

37.0

29

37.0

30

32.0

31

18.0

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

-• - -

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec .

8 49 55

5 20 48.4

1

’ . y

553

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT jON SMOKY HILL RIVER, BELOW THE PAWNEE VILLAGE.

Determination of latitude, July 17, 184^ — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

^

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

A.

min.

sec.

75

39

00

3

34

07

75

40

15

35

26

75

40

10

36

30

75

41

30

38

01

75

42

00

39

17

75

42

40

40

23

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

37 49 13

8 58 04

38 42 43

1

FIFTH ENCAMPMENT ON SMOKY HILL RIVER.

Determination of longitude, July 19, 1844 — altitudes of a Jlquilse .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

73

Iff

35

73

42

45

74

04

10

74

24

00

74

45

10

75

07

30

A.

min .

sec.

3

09

43 6

10

54.0

11

52.0

12

48.0

13

45.5

14

48.0

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

[9 37 04

h.

5

min . sec.
21 45.5

Immersion of Jupiter’s first satellite.

Observed time.

!

Mean time.

Longitude.

— -

A. min. sec.

■ h. min. sec.

-

Deg. min. sec.

10 15 36

15 40 29

1 !

98 17 31

[ 174 ]

554

FIFTH ENCAMPMENT ON SMOKY HILL RIVER.
Determination of latitude, July 19, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

37

40

3

18

00

75

38

20

19

16

75

39

30

20

26

75

40

00

21

38

75

41

10

23

04

RESULT OF CALCULATION,

True altitude.

Mean time.

|

Latitude.

*

Deg. min. sec.
37 48 25

h. min. sec.

8 45 13

i

Deg. min.
38 43

sec.

32

ENCAMPMENT THREE MILES SOUTH OF SMOKY HILL FORK.
Determination of longitude, July 21, 1S44 — altitudes of a Aquilx.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of a Aquilse.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

78

45

10

3

13

38.0

79

13

40

14

58.0

79

36

45

16

02.5

Time of chronometer .

-

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec. f

h.

min.

sec.

8 42 31

5

27

38.3

555

[ ]

ENCAMPMENT THREE MILES SOUTH OF SMOKY HILL FORK.
Determination of latitude , July 21, i S4T — altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

75

14

45

3 19

04

75

16 '

50

20

51

75

18

10

22

26

75

18

10

24

07

75

20

40

26

01

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Deg. win. sec.
37 37 35

Mean time.

A. min.
8 50

sec.

07

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

38 28 38

ENCAMPMENT BETWEEN SMOKY HILL FORK AND THE SANTA FE ROAD.

Determination of latitude , July 22 , 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

51

40

3

55

57

75

53

40

4

00

59

75

56

00

4

03

39

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

37 55

38

9

Mean time.

!

!

Latitude.

min.

« |

sec.

Deg.

min.

29

40

38

31

sec-

38

556

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT BETWEEN SMOKY HILL FORK AND THE SANTA FE ROAD.
Determination of longitude, July 22, 1S44 — altitudes of a Jlquilx.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Aquil®.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

. min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

90

26

30

3 42

09

91

37

50

45

47

92

37

20

1

48

48

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec .

h. min. sec.

9- 15 03

5 29 28.2

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SANTA FE ROAD.

\

Determination of longitude. , July 23, 1844 — altitudes of a Aquilse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of

a Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

t

' r

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

80

57

25

3

08

14.6

81

20

50

09

22.0

81

39

15

10

14.0

81

59

45

11

11.0

82

22

20

12

16.0 .

82

40

45

i

•

13

07.0

. . . — .

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

k: min. sec.

8 42 47

h.

5

Retard.

min.

32

Longitude.

sec.

02.3

557

C M J

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SANTA FE ROAD.
Determination of latitude , July 23, 1844 —altitudes of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec .

h.

min.

sec.

75

31

25

3

16

43

75

32

10

18

14

75

33

30

20

09

75

35

35

22

02

75

35

40

23

f 9

75

36

50

24

39

RESULT OF CALCULATION

.

True altitude.

1

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min . sec.

Deg. min. sec.

37 45 46

8 52 46

38 33 22

ENCAMPMENT AT

“BLACK JACK,” ON THE

SANTA FE ROAD.

Determination of latitude , July 28, 1844 — altitudes of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec. '

h.

min.

sec.

76

27

25

3

29

13

76

29

40

31

08

76

31

00

33

03

76

32

40

34

47

76

33

00

35

55

76

33

50

37

36

76

35

40

40

01

76

,36

40

41

06

76

37

45

42

21

76

38

10

43

30

-

RESULT OF CALCULATION

•

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude,

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec .

Deg. min. sec ,

38 15 33

9 18 30

38 46 50

558

[ *74 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT “BLACK JACK,’’ ON THE SANTA FE ROAD.
Determination of longitude , July 28, 1844 — altitudes of rfrclurus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

t

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitudes of
Arcturus.

1 !

j Time of chronometer.

Double altitudes of
Aicturus.

Time of chronometer.

*

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec .

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

75

59

30

3 46

33 6 ;

73

55

10

3 51

52.0

75

82

40

47

41.0

73

30

00

52

57.5

75

09

30

48

40.5

73

03

10

54

07.0

74

48

50

49

33.0

72

33

20

55

21.0

74

23

30

! 50

1

40.0

72

03

20

56

39.7

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

1

• 1

j

Retard.

Longitude.

}i. min. sec.

1 h.

min. sec.

9 33 02

J

41 37.6

\

Determination of longitude , July 28, 1844 — altitudes of Jupiter.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitudes of Jupiter. Time of chronometer.

.

✓ • !

Deg.

min ,

see.

h.

min.

sec.

61

41

20

6

50

20.5

61

59

40

51

13.0

62

21

40

52'

17.0

62

40

40

53

12.0

63

00

V

15

54

09.6

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

1

Retard.

1

Longitude.

,

h. nun. sec.

k.

min.

sec. m

i

!

i

Of j

»0 !

;

n !

CO

o*

5

41

37.7

Im mersion of Jupiter' s first satellite .

. Observed time.

i

Mean time.

|

Longitude.

k. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

!

Deg. min. sec.

6 34 09

12 15 49.7

95 04 34

METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS

c.

\

MADE DUHINR

THE EXPEDITION OF 1843-’44.

1

561

[ 174 1

METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS MADE DURING THE JOURNEY.

Comparison of barometers.

According to three observations made at the observatory of Paris, Lieutenant Fremont’s barom-
eter, constructed by Bunten, is 0.23 millimetres higher than the standard of the observatory.

The result of forty-three comparative observations of both barometers of Mr. Fremont with both,
my barometers, gives the following :

Barometer E (English) = E (French) — 0.051 inch == Fr. (N. Y.) — 0.034 inch = Fr.
(Bunten) — 0.091 inch.

Barometer E (French) = E (English) -f- 0.051 inch = Fr. (N. Y.) -{- 0.017 inch = Fr.
(Bunten) — 0.040 inch.

Barometer Fr. (Bunten) = Fr. (N. Y.) -f- 0.057 inch.

Observations from May 1 to May 11, 1843.

Range of barometer during the time, == O'7. 4.
Range of thermometer, = 60° to 80° Fahrenheit.

St. Louis, May 13, 1843.

G. ENGELMANN.

36

[ 174 ]

562

Table of meteorological observations.

Date.

Time.

Barom.

Thermometer.

Alti-

Remarks.

Attached.

Free.

tudes.

1843.

Mi llim.

Cent.

Fahr.

Feet.

June 10 |

Sunrise

733.74

5.0

39.3

900

Clear sky; fog; wind N.

lh. 41m. p. m.

735.43

22.0

69.0

938

NE. wind; clear, and fine cumuli.

Sunset

733.95

14.8

55.4

933

Slight breeze from NW.; clear.

11

Sunrise

734.00

8.8

48.6

933

Clear; cumuli; slight breeze from
SW.

12 1

Sunrise

728.95

12.9

55.0

1,036

Wind S. ; clear; clouds in E. ho-
rizon

Noon

726.02

24.9

75.4

1,331

Wind S. ; clear; few cumuli.

13 !

Sunrise

726.15

15.6

59.5 ♦

1,267

Wind N.

lh. p. m.

726.19

25.1

76.0

1,329

Wind N. ; clear; cumuli.

Sunset

724.96

22.0

67.0

1,406

Sky covered with scattered clouds;
calm; bright sunset.

14 :

1

Sunrise

723. 79

16.3

60.0 |

1,406

Thunder and rain; rainbow in
the W.

15

5h. 55m. a. m.

721.67

17.8

61.6

1,486

At sunset last night a very vio-
lent and continuous rain com-
menced, wind N W. , with thun-
der and lightning, for half an
hour, and continued moderate
all the night. This morning
calm and cloudy.

Sunset

724.34 |

i

24.0

74.0

1,555

Gentle breeze from NW.; clear,
and cumuli.

16

1

Sunset

724.72

19.1

64.0

1,401

Wind N. 60° E. ; heavy rains du-
ring the foie part of the day;
clouds and sun in the afternoon ;
clouds, with the appearance of
fair weather.'

17

4h. 47m. a. m.

725.45

16 5 I

60.0

1,347

Sky covered; a misty ram; wind
S. 60° E.

Noon

723.42

21.1

71.0

1,464

Heavy squalls of rain during the
morning; wind shifting from
SE. to N., and settled SE. with
clouds and sun.

Sunset

721.19

1 19.9

] 69.0

j 1,535

Clear, and some cumuli; slight
breeze from N.

18

i Sunrise

|

720.80

16.1

Lei. 2

1,535

Clear; some clouds in W. hori-
zon; wind slight from SE.

{ Sunset

713.33

25.7

! 78.2

1,911

Wind NE.; sky nearly overcast
with cloulds.

19

; Sunrise

712.07

20.4

69.0

1,911

Clear; breeze moderate from NE.

Noon

715.46

31.5

86.0

: 1,868

Clear; breeze SE.

Sunset

712.53

27.0

80.3

; 1,903

Clear; breeze SE.

20

Sunrise

714.15

20.8

69.0

j 1,903

Clear sky; wind SE.

! Noon

714.29

31.1

88.0

1,930

Clear; few cumuli; wind S.

t Sunset

707.07

25.3

77.0

2,135

Clear; clouds in N W. ; wind S.
25° E.

21

Sunrise

1 708.49

19.7

67.0

2,135

Clear and cloudy; wind SE.

Noon

| 703.23

28.4

| 83.8

2,386

Clear and clouds; wind SE.

22

Sunset

i 701.15

1

! 16.0

| 61.0

2,262

Clear and some clouds; slight
breeze from NW.

23

Sunrise

j 704.09

! 9.0

47.4

2,262

Sky partially overcast; wind N.
70° W. ; clear in NW.

l Noon

; 703.04

22.7

i 70.8

2,316

Clear; wind N. 70° W.

j Sunset

i 699.78

18.6

1 65.4

2,354

Clear and calm.

24

i Sunrise

698.49

10.0

| 49.0

! 2,354

Clear; light breeze from S. 60°
W.

25

1 Sunrise

! 689.19

15.7

! 59.5

2,822

Clear, wind S. 20° W.

563 [ 174 ]

Table of meteorological observations — Continued.

Date.

Time.

1

Barom.

Thermometer.

Alti-

I

Remarks.

Attached.

Free.

tudes.

1843.

Millim.

Cent .

Fahr.

Feet.

June 25

Noon

686.60

30.1

90.5

3,087

Clear; wind S 35° E.

Sunset

685.00

21.1

70.0

3,037

Clear; slight breeze from S ; a

few clouds.

26

Sunrise

684.08

15.8

59.5

3,037

Calm and clear.

Noon ( ?)

681.02

31.9

88.3

3,322

Clear; wind S.

27

Sunrise

672.33

12.0

53.5

3,486

Clear; overcast from NW. to

NE.; slight breeze from E.

Noon

670.97

29.4

83.0

3,732

Overcast; breeze from N. 20° E.

Sunset

667.20

22.9

73.0

3,757

Clear and cumuli; breeze N.

28

Sunrise

667.75

11.7

52.0

3,757

Clear; slight breeze from W. ; a

few clouds.

Sunset

661.63

25.8

77.0

4,070

Clear; breeze from SE.

29

Sunrise

659.73

16.8

68.4

4,070

Clear; breeze moderate from N.

lh. 26m. p. m. -

653.94

30.0

85.2

4,532

80° W.

Clear; breeze moderate from N.

80° W.

Sunset

650.92

23.9

74.5

4,590

Clear; some clouds.

650.29

19.3

66.7

4,562

Clear; light air from E.

30

Sunrise

647.75

14.8

58.0

4,621

Clear; slight breeze from SW.

3h. 48m. p. m. -

655.76

26.5

76.0

4,402

j Clear and clouds in the horizon;

j strong wind from NE.

Sunset

657.39

20.6

69.4

4,089

| Heavy clouds arising since an
i hour; sky partially covered; ap •
pearance of bad weather; gale

of wind from SE., and light-
ning from the same quarter.

July 1

Sunrise

663.74

12.6

54.0

4,089

Clear; some clouds; moderate

Noon

663.60

21.2 1

70.0

4,015

wind from N.

Clear; wind N.; moderate.

Sunset

662.02

15.8 !

59.0

3,976

Clear; wind ME.; moderate.

2

Sunrise

661.75

6.6

43.0

3,976

Slight breeze from NE.

Noon

658.32

27.7 1

80.0

4,336

Clear; strong wind from S. 60° E.

Sunset

654.05 j

2i.9 ;

72.0

4,419

Clear; moderate breeze from S.
35° E.

Calm and clear.

3

Sunrise

652.49

10.0

47.0

4,419

Noon

649.91

31.0 j

87.5

4,771

Calm and clear.

Sunset

646.46

25.5 j

78.0 !

4,760

Slight breeze from NW. ; sky

covered with heavy clouds; a
thunder storm passing by.

4

Sunrise - 1

646.19

10 6

51.5

4,760

Air SW. ; clear and clouds.

lh. 53m. p. m. - ‘

643.55

33.3

85.5 |

5,068

Moderate breeze from E.; clear

and clouds.

3h. 53m. p. m. -

642.69 |

34.2 j

92.2 j

5,143

Moderate breeze from E.; clear

r i

and clouds.

Sunset

641.34

23. 1 :

74.0 j

4,947

Calm; clear; clouds in horizon.

5

8unrise

642.85

14.0 j

53.0 !

4,947

Calm and clear; some clouds.

7h. 53m. a. rn. -

644.51

23.7 !

84.4 |

-

Calm and clear; some clouds.

Noon

645.41

29.4 |

85.0

4,947

Slight breeze from NW.; clear;

clouds; big clouds over the
mountains.

lh. 57m. p. m. -

645. 14

31.6 j

88.6

-

Slight breeze from NW.; clear;

clouds; big clouds over the
mountains.

3h. 57na. p. m. -

643.96

31.3 1

i 88.2

5,027

Slight breeze from NW.; thun-

der storm approaching.

6

5h. 3m- a, m. *

646.96

17.4 !

62. G

! 4.721

Cloudy; air from S.

[ 174 ] 564

Table of meteorological observations — Continued.

Time.

Barom

Thermometer.

Alti-

Remarks.

Date.

Attached.

Free.

tudes.

1843.
July 5 6

6h, 58m, a. m. -

Millim.

647.91

Cent.

24.0

Fakr.

82.4

Feet.

4,899

Clear and clouds; slight breeze or

7

Noon

639.55

22.0

73. 0

5,103

air from SW.

Clear; clouds in horizon; moder-

lh. 13m. p. m. -

638.84

23.5

78.5

5,192

ate breeze from N.

Clear; clouds in horizon; moder-

5h. 43m. p. m. -

635.13

21.7

69.2

5,305

ate breeze from N.

Overcast with clouds; a little

Sunset

635 93

18.0

64.0

5,203

rain; air from N.

Clear over head; cloudy horizon,

8

Sunrise

635.61

14.0

55.5

5,203

mountains covered with dark
clouds.

Air S. ; clear; cloudy horizon.

Noon

631.43

2-1.8

72.0

5,497

Overcast; rainy appearance; slight

lh. 29m. p. m. -

630.89

22.3

73.5

5,531

breeze from N. 60° W.
Overcast; rainy appearance; slight

9

Sunrise

623.05

13.7

55.0

5,756

breeze from N. 60° W .
Overcast; air from E.

Oh. 45m. p. m. -

604 64

24.2

70.1

6,759

Clear and clouds; moderate breeze

2h. 45m. p. m. -

603.49

20.0

66.5

6,770

from N. 25° E.

Overcast; moderate breeze from

Sunset

601.96

14.1

57.0

6,750

N. 25° E.

Overcast; calm: moderate breeze

10

Sunrise

j 600.59

10.2

49.0

6,750

from N. 25° E.

Overcast with rainy clouds; wind

Noon

609.20

20.4

68.0

6,517

S. 30° E.

Overcast, and some blue sky;

Oh. 45m- p. m. -

608.90

20.2

66.2

6,520

wind moderate from E.

1 Overcast, and some blue sky;

5h. 30m. p. m, -

| 615.86

20.1

74.0

6,238

i wind moderate from E.

Clear; some clouds; wind slight

Sunset

j 615.85

17.1

63.0

from E.

! Clear; some clouds; wind slight

Sunset

615.85

17.1

63.0

6,135

j from E.

Clear; some clouds; wind slight

11

Sunrise

614.65

10.9

51.0

6,135

from E.

Wind SE. ; clear.

2h. 5m. p. m. -

589.80

21.1

70.0

7,464

Overcast; moderate wind SE.

Sunset

589.46

18.8

65.0

7,305

Clear and clouds; slight breeze

12

Sunrise

588.13

7.8

44.0

7,305

from SW.

Clear; slight wind from NE.

lh. 20m. p. m. -

611.99

32.0

87.5

6,544

Clear; slight wind from NE.

3h. 20m. p. m. -

611.61

32.4

89.5

6,577

Clear; moderate wind from S.

Sunset

620.79

21.5

69.5

5,797

Clouds, and some clear sky;

13

Sunrise

621.40

8.1

46.0

5,797

calm.

Clear; breeze from NW.

Noon

633.51

30.8

87.0

5,518

Clear, and some clouds; wind

lh. 28m. p. m. -

633.00

30.8

85.0

5,533

SE.

Clear, and some clouds; wind

14

Sunrise ( ?)

639.60

13 8

58 2

5,086

SE.

Clear and calm.

Noon

648.84

32.1

90.0

4,885

Clear and clouds; calm.

lh. 30m. p m. -

648.20

35.7

88.5

5,030

Fresh breeze from E.

4h. p. m.

646.51

28.0

82.5

5,038

Calm; thunder storm approach-

15

Sunrise

647.85

15.8

59.3

4,655

ing.

Clear; a few clouds; calm.

8h. 50m. p. m. -

648.39

25.9

83.0

4,795

Clear and clouds; flaws of wiad

Noon

648,08

32,9

91,0

4,881

from SW.

Clear.; clouds; calm,

565 [ 174 J

Table of meteorological observations — Continued.

Barom.

Thermometer.

!

Alti-

Remarks.

Date.

Time.

Attached

Free.

tudes.

1843.
July 15

2h. 20m. p. m.

Millim.

647.49

Cent.

33.9

Fahr.

94.2

Feet, j
4,929

Clear and clouds; flaws from

4h. 20m. p. m.

646.69

28.7

83.5

4,890

SW.

Overcast; moderate breeze from

Sunset

646.70

24.0

74.8

4,774 !

SW.

Overcast; calm; dark clouds in
E.

Calm; clear; few cumuli.

* 16

Sunrise

646.36

13.3

57.0

4,774

Noon

637.37

28.2

82.0

5,324

Strong wind from N. 20° E.;

lh. 50m. p. m.

637.37

29.2

84.5

5,456

squall of rain just passing over;
masses of cumuli,
i Weather growing worse.

17

Sunrise

634.19

15.6

5R.2

5,292

| Cloudy; some clear sky; calm.

Noon

625.37

26.5

77.0

5,851

Wind E ; clear; some cumuli;

lh. Gm. p. m.

625.37

27.1

78.5

5,863

dark clouds above the moun-
tains.

i Wind E.; clear; some cumuli;

18

/

Sunrise

617.88

10.6

49.0

5,958

dark clouds above the moun-
\ tains.

j Clear; slight breeze from W.

5h. 27m. a. m.

617.35

12.4

54.0

6,020

Clear; slight breeze from W.

lOh. 50m. a m.

615.17

27.8

73.0

6,318

j Clear and calm; temperature of

Noon

615.25

29.2

78.6

6,351

upper spring = 69°. 0 Fahr.,
lower spring == 60°. 5 Fahr.
j Clear; some cumuli; darker

Sunset

613.90

| 20.3

66.0

6,260

clouds over the mountains;
slight breeze SE

! Cloudy; wind NW., but chang-

19

Sunrise

613.04

13.6

57.5

6,260

ing every instant; temperature
i of upper spring = 61°.0, lower
spring = 58°. 0 Fahr.

! Clear; a slight breeze from NW.;

Noon

614.04

29.7

j 86.0

6,337

1 temperature of upper spring =

1 57°. 8, lower spring 54°. 3 F ahr.

| Moderate breeze from N. ; clouds;

lh. 50m. p. m.

613.26

26.0

77.5

j 6,391

some clear sky; thunder storm
j in N.

j Cloudy over the mountains; clear

Sunset

606.80

18.6

62.5

j 6,527

j in N. ; breeze NE.

Cloudy; thunder storm has pass-

20

Sunrise

604.94

1 7.6

! 44.2

6,527

ed; clear above the mountains;
breeze from S., but changing
every moment to every quarter.
Clear and calm.

lh. 22m. p. m.

608.56

I 26.9

1 77.2

6, 6 J 3

Clear; few cumuli; slight breeze

2h. 52m. p. m.

608.16

28.2

78.5

6,647

from N.

Clear; few cumuli; slight breeze

Sunset

615.34

20 6

69.2

6,122

from N.
Cloudy; calm.

21

Sunrise

614.60

7.4

j 44.8

6,122

Slight breeze from SE. ; clear.

lh. 4m. p. m.

633 30

28.5

83.5

5,488

Clear; some cumuli; slight breeze

2h. 32m. p. m.

632.57

j 24.3

| 75.0

5,457

from NW.

Thunder storm, with rain, ad-

Sunset

636.25

| 21.8

71.0

5,192

vancing from NW.

Cloudy; some clear sky; calm.

22

Sunrise

634.50

7.2

44.4

5,192

Clear; air from SE.

Oh. 37m. p. m.

641.03

31.9

! 85.0

i 5,161

Clear; air from NW.

2h. 8m. p. m.

641.03

31.6

| 86 0

5,163

Clear; air from NW.

Sunset

641.19

1 22.7

1 73.0

i 4,974

1 Clear; slight breeze from E.

[ 174 ] 566

Table of meteorological observations — Continued

Date.

Time.

Barom. |

Thermor

Attached.

neter.

Free.

Alti-

tudes.

1843.

Millim. |

Cent.

Fahr.

Feet.

July 23

Sunrise

639 62

7.4

45.0

4,974

Noon

645.29

29.8

85.0

4,959

2h. p. m.

645.09

36.6

90.0

5,026

4h. p. m.

644.49

30.4

88.3

5,080

Sunset

643.35

2L8

74.0

4,940

24

5h. 54m. a. m.

642.95

13.0

55.0

4,940

2h. 4 m. p. m.

641.70

32.8

89.0

5,143

4h. 4m. p. m.

640 95

33.4

83.5

5,179

25

Sunrise

641.39

13.4

55.0

4,965

lOh. 5m. a. m.

643.74

27.7

81.5

4,991

2h. 5m. p. m.

643.00 !

28.6

82.0

5,032

4h. 5m. p. m.

642.48

27.8

81.5

5,048

Sunset

643.50

20.8

69.0

4,857

26

Sunrise

644.35

14.4

58.0

4,857

Sunset

644.00

17.8

64.0

4,866

27

lh. 16m. p. m

642.29

31.4

87.0

5,128

3h. p. m.

641.54

32.7

87.2

5,170

Sunset

636.00

24.4

70.0

5,184

28

Sunrise

643.11

15.0

58.8

5,184

Noon

637.78

22.1

71.0

5,210

lh. 26m. p. m.

637.40

21.2

68.2

5,201

29

4h. 26m. a. m.

631.85

12.0

53.0

5,336

6h. 56m. p. m.

627.50

14.0

55.5

5,557

30

5h. 11m. a. m.

627.64

11.6

52.5

5,530

Noon

612.53

20.0

64.5

6,339

lh. 26m. p. m.

612.24

20.6

65.3

6,359

Sunset

585.52

12.3

54.0

7,521

31

Sunrise

584.40

10.8

48.0

7,521

Noon

582.29

22.6

69.0

7,844

Oh. 36m. p m.

582.29

22^5

69.5

7,847

Sunset

! 592.70

17.7

64.0

7,178

Aug. 1

Sunrise

; 592.20

6.2

42.4

7,178

Noon

592.19

24.0

72.0 |

7,382

Oh. 54m. p. m.

I 592.06

24.8

74.0

7,408

Sunset

! 582.75

16.4

62.0

7,730

2

Sunrise

580.55

11.0

51.6

7,730

Noon

579.79

22.2

73.0

7,994

lh. 24m. p. m.

579.40

22.2

70.5

7,995

3

Sunrise

579.37

| 1.2

33.0

7,602

9h. 52m. a. m.

1 572.37

19.0

68.8

8,314

j Sunset

592.95

18*4

66.0

7,143

4

Sunrise

j 593.64

6.2

38.5

7,143

Oh. 32m. p. m.

! 602.88

26.3

79.5

6,951

lh. 42m. p. m.

1 602.88

28.1

80.0

! 6,963

6

8h. 50m. a. m.

604.71

17.5

64.0

6,727

9h. 50m. a. m. ;

| 604.80

19.6

67.2

j 6,755

lOh. 50m. a. m. |

604.60

21.3

69.5 i

! 6,786

Remarks.

Clear; airfrom'E.

Clear; slight breeze from E.
Clear; slight breeze from E.
Clear; slight breeze from E.
Clear and calm.

Clear; air from W.

Clear; air from W.; clouds in
horizon.

Clear; wind from E.

Clear and clouds; wind N.

Clear and clouds; wind N.

Clear and clouds; wind N.

Clear and clouds; wind N.

Clear and clouds; breeze from S.
Overcast; air from N.

Clear and clouds; air from E.
Clear and clouds; breeze from N.
Clear and clouds; thunder storm
coming up from N.

Clear and clouds; breeze from N.
Overcast; calm.

Overcast; breeze S. 25° W.
Beginning to rain.

Fine rain; calm.

Rainy.

Misty; rainy appearance; calm.
Clear and clouds; slight breeze
from SE.

Clear and clouds; slight breeze
from SE.

Clear; moderate breeze from S.
Clear; mist still in horizon; breeze
W.

Clear and clouds; wind N.240 W.
Clear and clouds; wind N. 24° W.
Clear; cloudy in horizon ; wind E.
Clear and calm.

Clouds; a little rain; a little clear;

slight breeze from NE.

Clouds; a little rain; a little clear;

slight breeze from NE.

Clear and clouds ; breeze from NE .
Clear; wind W.

Clear; clouds; strong wind from
W.

Clear; clouds; strong wind from
W.

Clear and calm.

Sky covered with thin misty
clouds; breeze S. 70° W.
Clear; clouds; moderate breeze
from W.

Clear; few cumuli; calm.
Cloudy; some clear sky; slight
breeze from S.

Cloudy; strong breeze from S.
Clear and calm.

Clear and calm.

Clear and calm.

56“

[ 174 ]

Table of meteorological observations — Continued.

Date.

Time.

Barom.

Thermometer.

Alti-

Remarks.

Attached.

Free.

tudes.

1843.

Mi Him.

Cent.

Fahr.

Feet.

Aug. 5

Noon

604.65

24,4

75.0

6,825

Clear; calm; cloudy.

Oh. 50m. p. m.

604.45

25.5

79.5

6,881

Clear; calm; cloudy.

lh. 50m. p. m.

604.45

25.8

78.2

6,875

Clear; calm; cloudy.

2h. 50m. p. m.

604.45

26.0

77.5

6,871

Clear; calm; cloudy.

3h. 50m. p. m.

603.85

26.5

75.2

6,888

Clear; W. wind in squalls.

4h. 50m. p. m.

603.44

25.8

95.0

-

Free thermometer in the sun.

Sunset

603.09

20.8

70.0 |

6,743

Clear; some clouds; W. wind in
squalls.

6

Sunrise

602 70

7.5

46.0

6,743

Clear and calm.

Sunset

588.40

19.3

63.5

7,490

Cloudy; thunder storm approach-
ing; air from E. ; temperature
of spring, 46° Fahr.

7

Sunrise

587.19

8.0

43.0

6,040

Air from W. ; clear.

lh. 50m. p. m.

597.59

27.0

79.5

7,196

Clear and clouds; breeze from W.

Sunset

596.70

21.4

69.8

7,000

Clear and cloudy; slight breeze
from W.

8

Sunrise

596.40

12.6

52.0

7,000

Cloudy; wind from E.

2h. 28m. p. m.

606.81

25.5

78.0

6,784

Cloudy; wind from S.

9

Sunrise

603.84

11.1

51.0

6,594

Cloudy; rain last night; wind
from N.

Noon

611.16

24.8

77.0

6,483

Clouds and clear; wind NW.

lh. 7m. p. m.

610.77

26.5

78.0

6,517

Clouds and clear; wind NW.

10

Sunrise

614.05

6.8

41.0

6,028

Clear; some clouds; calm.

Noon - 1

610 80

26.6

78.0

6,502

Clear; squalls from all points.

Sunset

607.77

22.0

71.8

6,557

Moderate breeze from W. ; clear;
horizon dirty.

11

Sunrise

605.56

12.8

56.5

6,557

Clear; fresh breeze from W.

2h. 8m. p. m.

600.30

22.6

71.0

6,926

Hazy; fresh breeze from W.

Sunset

599.39 j

16.8

61.2

6,720

Clear and clouds; moderate wind
from NW.

12

Sunrise

600.14 i

1.6

31.8

-

Clear; calm; white frost.

lh. 20m. p. m.

587.45

17.5

60.5

7,446

Clear; calm; moderate wind from
NW.

Sunset

587.76 !

11.6

52.8

7,221

Calm and clear.

13

Sunrise

587.74 1

— 1.5

28.0 i

7,221

Calm and clear; white frost.

lUh. 2m. a. m.

587.03 i

17.9

64.2

7,489

At the divide; moderate breeze
from NW.

|

Noon

592.92 1

21.6

67.0

7,242

Moderate breeze from NW.

Oh. 40m. p. m.

592.65

22.1

68.0

7,265

Moderate breeze from NW.

Sunset

595.20

; 19.8

67.2

6,951

Clear and calm.

14

Sunrise

, 595.27

1.2

32.2

6,951

Clear; air from NW.

1

lOh. 50m. a. m.

602.45

24.8

75.2

6,846

Clear; slight breeze from S.

Noon

602.44

29.2

86.1

6,941

Clear; slight breeze from S.

Sunset

602.52

23.8

75.0

6,667

Clear; slight breeze from. NW.

15

Sunrise

604.45

2.4

34.0

6,667

Clear; wind from N.

2h. p. m.

611.50

29.2

84.2

6,546

Clear over head; dirty horizon;
calm.

3h. p. m.

611.28

| 29.8

86.5

6,516

I Clear over head; dirty horizon;
calm.

Sunset

610.94

19.0

65.2

' 6,238

Clear over head; dirty horizon;
calm.

16

Sunrise

610.36

3.2

37.0

6,238

Clear and calm.

Noon

613.34

30.1

1

82.0

6,399

Clear over head; horizon dirty,;
wind squally from N.

Sunset

613.31

23.6

1

74.3

6,150

Clear over head; horizon dirty;
slight breeze from N.

17

Sunrise

614.24

] 3.9

38.4

! 6,150

Clear; foggy horizon; air from
! SW.

[ 174 ] 568

Table of meteorological observations — Continued.

Time.

Barom.

| Thermometer.

Alti-

Date.

1

J Attached.

Free.

tudes.

Remarks.

1843.
Aug. 17

2h. 3m. p. m.

Millim.

610.45

1 Cent.
29.1

Fafir.

84.0

Feet.

6,558

Clear; foggy horizon; calm.

Sunset

610.68

18.1

64.0

6,234

Clear; horizon more pure; calm.

18

Sunrise

611.83

5.3

38.1

6,234

Clear; air from N. 80° W. ; hazy

2h. p. m.

607.04

31.5

82.6

6,735

horizon.

Clear; slight breeze from W.

3h. p. m.

607.04

31.9

82.0

6,732

Clear; slight breeze from W.

19

Sunrise

606.30

4.6

38.6

6,361

Smoky horizon; calm and clear.

Noon

608.85

32.9

88.0

6,640

Clear; few cumuli; breeze in

Oh. 46m. p. m.

608.54

33.2

! 89.0

6,719

squalls from SW.

Clear; few cumuli; breeze in

Sunset

602.75

25.0

j 72.2

6,661

squalls from SW.

Clear and calm ; horizon not pure.

20

Sunrise

602.05

4.2

| 37.0

6,661

Clear, and dirty horizon; breeze

Noon

596.33

27.7

80.5

7,227

from NW.

Moderate wind N. 60° W. ; hazy

lh. p. m.

596.33

30.0

82.5

7,257

sun.

Moderate wind N. 60° W. ; hazy

4h. 10m. p. m.

575.87

27.2

79.2

8,234

sun.

Dividing ridge; smoky; sun faint;

21

Sunrise

607.06

6.6

43.8

6,358

scattered cumuli; thunder storm
some distance in E.; high wind
N. 60° W.

Smoky; sun faint; cumuli; air

Noon

614.45

31.6

89.0

6,416

SE.

Smoky; sun faint; calm.

lh. 5m. p. m.

613.93

31.0

! 87.0

6,425

Smoky; sun faint; wind in squalls

Sunset

612.41

18.8

65.0 1

6,185

from S.

Cumuli; thunder storm at a dis-

22

Sunrise

612.29

4.6

36.5

6,185

tance; slight breeze from N.
Smoky; scattered cumuli; calm.

Noon

616.50

28.7

84.8

6,281

Very smoky; sun faint; cumuli;

lh. 30m. p. m.

616.02

27.2

79.0

6,264

calm.

Very smoky; high wind from N.

23

Sunrise

616.03

8.6

47.2

5,989

10° W.; rainy appearance.
Smoky; clear; cold breeze from S.

24

Noon

614.88

25.2

75.2

6,290

Wind in squalls from NW.

Oh. 45m. p. m.

614.88

25.7

74.5 |

6,288

Clear; very smoky.

Sunset

618.77

14.2

56.4

5,843

Clear and calm; very smoky.

25

Sunrise

621.22

7.7

45.4

5,843

Clear; hazy; cold wind from SE.

Noon

624.34

26.0

72.2

5,841

Clear; hazy; breeze in squalls

Sunset

621.83

16.8

62.5

5,738

from SE.

Clear; hazy; calm; temperature of

26

Sunrise

620.84

0.

28.5

5,738

Big Spring = 65°. 0 Fahr.
Clear; smoky; calm; temperature

Noon

623.64

31.4

83.3

5,958

CBig Spring = 56°. 0 Fahr.
of < Steam hole = 81°. 5 “

(^Steamboat = 87°. 0 “

Clear; smoky; moderate breeze

Sunset

638.67

22.6

68.3 |

5,012

from S. 25° E.
Clear; smoky; calm.

27

Sunrise

637.64 J

0.

29.0 |

5,012

Clear; smoky; some cumuli;

Noon

635.86 !

24.7

77.0 ,

5,320

calm.

Cloudy; rainy appearance; not

1

635.70 I

26.1 |

79.5

5,347

quite so smoky; breeze S. 70°
W.

Partly clouded sky.

569 [ 174 ]

Table of meteorological observations — Continued.

Date.

Time.

Barom.

Thermometer.

I

Alti-
tudes. |

Attached.

i

Free, i

1843.

Millim.

Cent.

Fahr.

Feet. \

Aug. 27

Sunset

636.25

20.8

69.2

5,142 i

28

Sunrise

638.33

14.6

55.0

5,142 l

2h. p. m.

648 50

28.3

78.0

4,764

Sunset

647.77

20.3

65.0 !

4,681

29

Sunrise

646 70

14.1

54 0 |

4,681

Noon

629.32

21.8

71.0 !

5,561 '

lh. p. m.

629.55

25.1

76.0

5,595 1

30

Sunrise

623.40

4.2

39.0

5,570 j

Noon

637.29

19.8

67.0

5,169

lh. 30m. p. m.

636.95

22.7

73.0

5,228

Sunset

644.49

19.8

64.0

4,723 j

31

Sunrise

646.04

8.2

44.5

4,723 |

Noon

649.63

26.6

71.0

4,666

Sept. 1

4h. 48m. p. m.

659.55

20.2

65.0

4,189 I

Sunset

658.91

12.8

54.5

4,093 !

2

Sunrise

659.04

6.2

41.2

4,093 1

3

5h. 30m. a. m.

658.39

8.5

45.5

4,113

8h. 5Cm. a. m.

660.14

22.6

61.3

4,170

9h. 50m. a. m.

660.04

22.0

66.0

4,190

lOh. 50m. a. m.

660.15

23.2

69.0

4,195 1

Noon

660.27

25.2

72.5

! 4,222 :

2h. p. m.

659.28

23.7

79.0

4,282 j

Sunset

656.83

16.2

60.5

4,247

4

5h. 33m. a. m.

655.78

7.5

42.0

4,247 1

Sunset

653.10

22.8

75.5

4,526

5

Sunrise

652.39

18.0

64.5

4,526 ;

Sunset

650.11

18.8

| 65.0

4,496 j

6

Sunrise

652.03

8.6

45.5

1 4,496

Sunset

656.25

15.7

j 55.0

4,173

7

Sunrise

: 658.21

5.3

39.5

4,173

Remarks.

Dark clouds; very little blue;
slight breeze from S.

Slight breeze from N. ; * light
clouds all over the sky; thun-
der storm last night, with mod-
erate rain, which has made the
air clear.

Fresh breeze S. 20° E.; clear
over head; clouds; rain in the
horizon.

Calm; clear; cumuli.

Air from NW. ; dark rainy clouds
moving on the horizon; over
head not so dark; considera-
ble rain last night; thunder and
wind.

Clear and clouds; wind from E.

Clear and clouds; wind from E.

Clear; clouds in horizon; con-
stant thunder storms, with rain
last night; calm.

Wind SW. ; clouds and blue sky.

Strong wind SW. ; clouds and
blue sky.

Calm; almost overcast with heavy
clouds.

Clear; slight breeze from S. 70°
W.

Clear; clouds; calm; began to rain
at sunset, and continued almost
the whole night.

Clear and clouds; fresh breeze
from S.

Clear and calm; few clouds.

Clear and calm.

Clear; air from N.

Clear; air from S.

Clear; air from S.

Clear; air from S.

Clear; slight breeze from S.

Clear; slight breeze from S.

Clear and calm.

Clear and calm.

Calm; clear, and clouds in the
horizon.

Wind brisk from SE.; clouds;
rainy appearance; there was a
thunder storm at a distance, and
some rain last night.

Clear over head; dark clouds in
horizon; thunder storm with
rain in the afternoon.

Clear and calm; some cumuli in
the horizon.

Clear and some cumuli; calm;
thunder storm with some rain
and a gale this afternoon.

Clear and calm.

[ 174 ] 570

Table of meteorological observations — Continued.

!

Barom.

Thermometer.

Alti-

Remarks.

Date.

Time.

Attached.

Free.

tudes.

1843.

Millim.

Cent.

Fahr.

Feet.

Sept. 7

6h. 50m. a. m.

658.95

8.6

47.0

4,086

Clear and calm.

7h. 50m. a. m.

659.44

12.8

55.7

4,119

Clear and calm.

8h. 50m. a. m.

659.89

15.0

59.2

4,125

Clear and calm.

9h. 50m. a. m.

660.09

17.8

64.5

4,152

Clear and calm.

lOh. 50m. a. m.

660.10

19.6

67.2

4,172

Clear and gentle breeze from N.
25° E.

Noon

659.88

24.6

70.0

4,218

Clear, and wind in squalls from
same quarter.

Oh. 50m. p. m.

659.42

23.3

71.2

4,235

Clear, and wind in squalls from
S. 25° W.

lh. 50m. p. m.

659.66

27.0

75.0

4,258

Clear, and wind in squalls from
S. 25° W.

2h. 50m. p. m.

659.40

27.8

74.3

4,271

Clear, and wind in squalls from
S. 25° W.

3h. 50m. p. m.

659.12

26.9

72.0

4,270

Clear, and some clouds in the ho-
rizon.

4h. 50m. p. m.

659.03

26.8

73.0

4,276

Clear, and some clouds in the ho-
rizon.

Sunset

657.69

15.7

61.5

4,181

Clear over head; light clouds in
horizon; calm.

8

Sunrise

656.59

5.8

40.9

4,181

Clear; clouds in the horizon;
calm.

4h. p. m.

657.22

23.2

73.0

4,320

Clear over head; clouds in the ho-
rizon; air from SW.

Sunset

656.71

18.7

64.0

4,226

Clear over head; clouds in the ho-
rizon; air from SW. ; calm.

9

Sunrise

656.39

10.0

49.2

4,226

Clear and calm.

Oh. 18m. p. m.

658.39

28.2

75.0

4,276

Clear over head; clouds in hori-
zon; air from SE.

4h. 40m. p. m.

638.82

27.1

~

5,159

On the peak of Crater island; air
from SE.

5h. 23m. p. m.

656.05

24.6

72.0

4,336

On the shore of the lake; air from
SE.

30

Sunrise

654.11

15.2

59.0

4,336

Clear; scattered cumuli; a gale of
wind S. 55° E.

Oh. 52m. p. m.

654.22

30.3

86.8

4,508

At the foot of the peninsula; very
violent gale.

lh. 36m. p. m.

643.16

31.0

89.5

5,020

At the top of the peninsula; blue
sky, with scattered fleecy
clouds; heavy near the hori-
zon; wind S. 20° E.

il

6h. 50m. a. m.

652.04

13.0

53.0

4,360

The whole sky covered with
rainy clouds; thunder, light-
ning, and rain, almost all the
night.

Sh. a. m.

652.57

14.2

58.0

4,363

Clearing up; calm.

9h. a. m.

652.65

11.9

53.0

4,354

Strong wind from N. 25° E,;
rainy clouds.

lOh. a. m.

653.01

12.7

55.0

4,324

Strong wind from N. 25° E.;
rainy clouds.

1 lh. a. m.

653.60

13.7

57.0

4,313

Strong wind from N. 25° E.;
some blue sky.

Noon

653.62

12.2

54.0

4,293

Sky covered with rainy clouds;
strong wind from N. 25° E.

lh. p. m.

654.06

14.8

60.9

4,315

Sky covered with rainy clouds;
some blue sky.

2h. p. m.

655.33

22.7

80.0

4,353

More clear sky; sun; moderate
wind from N. 25° E. Free
thermometer in the sun.

571 [ 174 ]

Table of meteorological observations — Continued.

Date. 3

Time.

Barom.

Thermometer.

Alti-

Attached.

Free.

tudes.

Remarks.

» 1843.

Millim.

Cent.

Fahr.

Feet.

Sept. 11

3h. p. m.

655.88

22.7

64.0

4,289

Clear; clouds scattered; moder-
ate wind from N. 25° E.

4h. p. m.

656.65

21.8

63.0

I 4,247

Clear; clouds scattered; sun;
moderate wind from N. 25° E.

5h. p. m.

656.76

20.6

60.2

! 4,222

Clear; clouds scattered; sun;
moderate wind from N. 25° E.

Sunset

655.50

9.8

52.2

4,080

Clear.

12

Sunrise

657.56

2.3

33.0

4,080

Clear and calm.

Sunset

655.48

9.2

47.2

4,119

Clear and clouds; calm.

13

Sunrise

654.88

3.0

35.5

4,119

Clear and clouds; calm.

4h. 50m. p. m.

657.51

27.2

82.0

4,283

Clear; scattered clouds; sun;
calm.

Sunset

656.76

18.8

66.5

i 4,179

Clear; scattered clouds; sun;
calm.

14

Sunrise

655.12

8.2

46.4

4,179

| Clear; few scattered clouds; slight
breeze from NVV.

3h. 50m. p. m.

651.38

30.0

80.0

4,564

| Clear and clouds; sun; moder-
ate breeze from SE.

Sunset

650.25

20.6

67.5

4,444

Clear; moderate breeze from SE.

15

Sunrise

648.28

3.5

37.5

4,444

Clear; horizon partly covered
with cumuli; air from NW.

3h. 43m. p. m.

640.15

30.3

83.0

5,081

Clear and scattered clouds; sun;
fresh wind from S.

Sunset

638.80

22.6

74.0

5,028

Clear and scattered clouds; sun;
fresh wind from S.

16

Sunrise

637.07

11.1

52.0

5,028

Calm and clear.

3h. 56m. p. m.

604.04

14.6

58.0

6,280

Dividing ridge, 10 feet below the
summit; violent gale from N .
65° W.; cumuli in same quar-
ter.

| In a valley below the divide; sky
clear; cold wind from NW.

6h. 20m. p. m.

630.79

11.1

50.5

5,144

17

6h. 9m. a. m -

631.37

— 5.5

21.5

5,144

Sky clear and calm.

3h. 56m. p. m.

642.85

20.0

65.2

4,849

Sky clear; wind from W.

Sunset

642.35

15.0

58.6

4,667

Sky clear; wind from W.

18

Sunrise

643.43

— 2.9

25.1

4,667

Clear; calm; bank of fog in N.

Sunset

643.31

16.4

60 5

4,779

Fort Hall; clear and calm.

19

Sunset

645.12

6.3

43.0

4,764

Sky covered with rainy dark
clouds; strong wind from S.
25° W.

20

Sunrise

645.81

3.7

34.0 1

4,764

Rain and snow during the whole
night; wind N.

Oh. 13m. p. m.

649.12

8.6

44.8

i

4,434

Wind N.; sky covered with
clouds.

21

Sunrise

651.48

— 0.2

29.5 |

4,239

Clear and calm; rain last night.

9h. 50m. a. m.

652.48

12.0

50.2

4,342

Clear and calm; clouds in horizon.

lOh. 50m. a. m.
Sunset

652.59

619.94

17.2

9.5

55.6 1
48.0 !

4,387

4,504

Almost cloudy all over; airSE.

122

Sunrise

646.00

5 6

41.0

4,504

Wind S.; overcast with rainy
clouds; begins to rain.

Sunset

646.39 *

6.0

42.5

4,519

Moderate wind from S. ; sky part-
ly clear; partly covered with
rainy clouds for the greatest
part of the day.

23

Sunrise

647.50

0.8

32.0

4,519

Calm ; overcast; snow falling
thick.

7h. a. m.

647.76

i

6.1

32.0

1

4,487

1

Calm; overcast; snow falling
thick.

[ 174 ] 572

Table of meteorological observations — Continued.

Thermometer.

Alti-

Remarks.

Date.

Time.

Barom.

Attached.

Free.

tudes.

1843.

Millim.

Cent.

Fahr.

Feet.

Sept. 23

8h. a. m.

'

C49.12

12.8

32.0

4,463

Calm; overcast; snow falling
thick.

9h. a. m.

-

648.90

10.2

35.0 !

4,380

Calm; overcast; snow falling

thick.

lOh. a. m.

_

648.31

8.8

40.0 |

4,511

Air from N. 20° W.; snow fall-

ing not so thick.

llh. a. m.

_

649.29

18.3

43.0

4,531

Heavy wind from N. ; snow turn-

ed into rain.

Noon

_

649.16

17.8

43.0

4,534

A little rain; somewhat clearer

in the N. and E. horizon.

lh. p. m.

_

648.95

20.2

47.0

4,566

' More clearing up in that comer;

1

a little blue spot.

2h. p. m.

-

648.65

16.4

47.5

4,567

More moderate; no rain; more

clear sky in N.

3h. p. ra.

649.44

18.6

49.5

4,554

More moderate; no rain; more

clear sky in N.

4h. p. m.

_

649.43

17.8

49.5

4,550

More moderate; no rain; more

clear sky in N.

5h. p. m.

-

649.50

18.2

49.5 1

4,550

Wind N.; sky improving from

|

NW. to NE.

Sunset

-

649.99

19.8

45.5 I

4,520

Nearly cairn; clear over head;

clouds scattered.

7h. p. m.

_

649.80

19.0

45.0 |

4,521

Moderate wind from N ; sky

cloudy; clear spots between.

8h. p. m.

-

649.80

i 17.0

42.5 |

4,499

Air from N. ; sky cloudy; some

clear spots.

9h. p. m.

-

651.14

14.2

41.0

4,428

More clear.

lOh. p. m.

_

650.88

! 12.9

40.0

4,422

Cloudy; a few stars peeping out.

llh. p. m.

-

650.94

12.7

37.0

S 4,406

Air from NE.; sky bright, ex-

cept in E.

Midnight

-

650.51

8.6

37.0

4,403

Air from NE. ; southern sky

|

nearly overcast; northern sky
j partly bright, partly covered

I with scattered clouds.

24

Sunrise

-

651.55

15.6

35.0

4,388

1 Calm; overcast; clear in the W.

horizon.

Noon

-

1 653.60

13.0

53.2

4,357

Breeze from S. ; sky clear; some

scattered clouds.

Sunset

-

654.85

1 10.5

54.0

4,240

Clear; breeze from S.

25

Sunrise

-

655.96

15.7

! 46.8

4,240

Clear; gale from S.

2h. p. m.

-

1 655.25

17.8

64.0

4,297

Clear and clouds; sun; wind S.

3h. p. m.

_

654.69

16.5

61.5

4,305

Clear and clouds; wind S. 72° E.

4h. p. m.

_

653.99

1 15.6

60.0

4,324

More clouds.

5h. p. m.

653.62

14.0

57.0

4,319

More clouds; dark in the W.

Sunset

-

653.07

i 12.8

55.0

4,252

Almost overcast.

26

6h. 20m. a.

m.

653.39

6.0

1 40.2

4,252

! Cloudy; clear; rain last night;

I wind S. 25° WT

Noon

-

650.84

9.8

49.2

4,340

I Cloudy; rainy appearance; fresh

wind from SW.

Sunset

-

654.28

8.0

i 44.5

4,045

Clouds and clear; wind sharp

from SW.

27

Sunrise

-

656.35

| — 1.5

24.0

4,045

Clear and calm; white frost last

night.

Sunset

-

651.46

8.0

! 46.5

4,367

Overcast with clouds; cold wind

from SE.

28

Sunrise

-

646.16

6.4

40.0

4,367

Overcast with rainy clouds; slight

breeze from S.

Sunset

-

654.60

6.8

45.0

3,990

Gale from S. 70° W.; clouds

1

and clear; thunder in N.

573 [ 174 ]

Table of meteorological observations — Continued.

Date.

Time.

Barom.

Thermometer.

Alti-
| tudes.

Remarks.

Attached. Free.

1843.

i Millim.

Cent.

Fahr.

1 Feet.

Sept. 29

Sunrise

-

! 660.54

4.2

36.4

\ 3,990

Cloudy and clear overhead; wind

S. 70° W.

30

Sunrise

-

663.35

12.0

28.5

3,727

Light clouds; air from SE.

Sunset

-

682.21

18.6

65.5

3,173

Clear; few clouds; wind squally

from W.

Oct. 1

Sunrise

-

, 677.10

19.5

55.5

3,173

Clear; wind from W.

Sunset

-

1 688.21

21.8

74.0

' 2,761

Clear and calm.

2

Sunrise

-

i 689.56

16.0

48.0

2,761

Clear and calm.

Sunset

-

681.90

20.5

70.0

2,902

Clear and calm.

3

Sunrise

-

684.81

20.2

42.0

2,902

Air from S. 65° E.; light clouds

and clear.

4

Sunrise

-

i 689.87

14.2

47.0

2,649

Calm; cumuli; clear.

Sunset

-

673.04

13.0

57.5

3,172

Cloudy; gale from NW.

5

Sunrise

-

677.65

— 0.2

32 0

3,172 1

Calpi and clear.

Sunset

-

672.65

9.2

47.0

3,226

Overcast; wind NW.

6

Sunrise

-

675.99

7.7

46.0

3,226

Overcast; rainy appearance;

wind from NW.

Sunset

-

; 678.41

10.7

50.8

3,061

Clear; some scattered cumuli;

sun; wind NW.

7

Sunrise

-

679.09

7.9

45.5

3,061

| Clear; wind NW.

Sunset

-

698.91

14.8

57.0

2,302

O' lear; breeze from NW.

8

Sunrise

_

697.85

4.8

38.2

2,302

1 Calm and clear.

Sunset

-

702.65

16.9

62.0

2,197

Calm; clear, but cloudy in the

1

horizon.

9

Sunrise

-

! 699.76

2.3

j 36.0

2,197 |

Clear and calm.

Sunset

-

j 702.26

: 20.6

1 68.5

2,192

Clear and scattered cumuli; calm.

10

Sunrise

_

! 704.11

8.3

! 43.0

2,192 |

Clear over head; cumuli in the

1

horizon; calm.

Sunset

.

! 706.21

17.3

62.5

1,998

Clear and calm .

11

Sunrise

_

706.44

0.8

310

1,998

Clear; air from E .

Sunset

-

7U6.85

19.2

64.0

2,000

Clear and calm; few scattered

cumuli .

12

Sunrise

-

704.78

I —4.3

I 23.0

2,000 1

Clear and calm.

Sunset

709.43

17.2

j 62.0

1,879 !

Clear and calm.

13

Sunrise

709.08

— 0.8

' 28.8

1,879

Clear; few cumuli; air from W,

Sunset

-

! 703.46

15.5

59.0

2, 144

Clear and light clouds; calm.

14

Sunrise

705.46

9.0

46.0

2,144 :

Clear and calm.

Sunset

_

! 684.68

10.8

50 0 !

2,802 i

Clear and calm.

15

Sunrise

_

685.25

5.0

40.0

2,802 ;

Clear; few light clouds; calm.

Sunset

_

678.00

! 16.2

61.0

3,100

Clear, and some cumuli; calm .

16

Sunrise

_

674.73

— 6.6

16.0

3,100 ;

Calm; clear, with few cumuli.

Sunset

_

676.85

16.0

60.8

3,092 1

Wind E, ; clear and clouds.

17

Sunrise

_

677.66

— 2.3

25.0

3,092 |

Clear and clouds; calm.

Sunset

_

682 34

17.0

62.5

2,940 ;

Cloudy; wind SE.

18

Sunrise

_

684.65

18.6

! 48.0

2,940 |

Overcast; rain began an hour be-

fore sunrise; calm.

Sunset

_

690.40

10.0

47.0

2,607 !

Cloudy; rain in the morning; air

from N .

19

Sunrise

-

688.72

3.5

35.0

2,607 j

Misty; dew point = 32° .5 Fahr,;

calm.

1 Oh. 44 m. p. m,

688.72

12.4

52.0

2,700

At the foot of Blue mountains.

Sunset

_

657.20 l

7.6

46.5

3,831 !

Blue mountains.

20

Sunrise

_

659.61

4.3

37.5

3,831 1

Clear and calm; a bank of clouds

in SE. horizon.

8h. 26m. a. m.

636.82

10.6

47.6

4,766 |

Blue mountains.

Sunset

_

628.54

2.8

36.3

4,989 |

Blue mountains; clear and calm,

21

Sunrise

-

628.65

0.8

30.0

4,989

Blue mountains; clear and calm.

[ 174 ]

574

Table of observations with the thermometer.

Date,

Time.

Thermometer.

Remarks.

1843.

Deg. Fahr.

Oct. 27

Sunrise

-

Fort Walahwalah.

Sunset

66.0

28

Sunrise

52.0

Sunset

59.0

29

Sunrise

38.0

Sunset

50.0

30

Sunrise

28.0

Sunset

53.0

31

Sunrise

24.0

Sunset

54,0

Nov. 1

Sunrise

34.0

Sunset

56.3

2

Sunrise

36.0

Sunset

46.0

3

Sunrise

32.0

Sunset

44.0

4

Sunrise

30.0

Sunset

52.0

5

Sunrise

36.0

Sunset

50.0

6

Sunrise

34.0

7

Sunset

49.0

8

Sunrise

42,0

12

Sunrise

44.0

Sunset

50.0

13

Sunrise

42.0

Sunset

51.5

23

Sunrise

36.0

Sunset - j

41.0

24 |

Sunrise - j

38.0

Sunset - !

40.5

25

Sunrise

26.0

26

Sunrise

20.0

27 1

Sunrise - 1

— 2.5

Sunset - j

28.0

28 j

Sunrise

18.0

Sunset

28.0

29

Sunrise

21.0

30

Sunrise

37.0

Sunset

30.0

Dec. 1

Sunrise

32.0

Sunset

42,0

2

Sunrise

28.0 ^

Sunset

34.0

3

Sunrise

18 5

4

Sunrise

19.6

Sunset

34.0

6

Sunrise

38.0

Sunset

28.2

6

Sunrise

26.0

Sunset

40.0

7

Sunset - |

42.0

8

Sunrise

10.0

Sunset - !

42.0

9

Sunrise - i

21.0

Sunset - j

39.0

10

Sunrise - j

10.0

Sunset - j

38.5

11

Sunrise - j

18.5

Sunset - '

39.5

12

Sunrise

32.0

575 [ 174 ]

Table of observations with the thermometer — Continued.

Date.

Time.

Thermometer.

Remarks.

1843.

Deg. Fahr.

Dec. 12

Sunset

-

39.5

13

Sunrise

_

0.0

Sunset

26.0

14

Sunrise

10.0

Sunset

-

32.0

15

Sunrise

-

25.0

Sunset

36.0

16

Sufirise

-

32.0

17

Sunrise

_

39.0

Sunset

_

52.0

18

Sunrise

-

34.0

Sunset

48.0

19

Sunrise

.

29.0

Sunset

-

46.0

20

Sunrise

.

36.0

Sunset

-

39.0

21

Sunrise

.

33.0

«

Sunset

_

43.0

Spring 61°; brisk SE. wind all day.

22

Daylight

-

39.0

Wind S. ; overcast.

23

Daylight

-

38.0

Sunset

-

39.0

Cloudy; little rain.

24

Daylight

-

31.0

Sunset

-

37.0

Fair day; light breeze from S.

25

Daylight

-

32.0

Sunset

-

33.0

Wind S., fair.

26

Daylight

-

22.0

Clouds rising around the horizon.

Sunset

-

30.0

Cloudy; light SE. wind.

27

Daylight

-

20.0

Clear; wind SB.

Sunset

-

23.0

Calm; sun faint.

28

Daylight

-

18.0

Calm; reddish clouds.

Sunset

-

34.0

Gentle SE. breeze.

29

Daylight

-

33.0

Light snow falling.

Sunset

-

19.0

Clear; wind WSW.

30

Daylight

-

14.0

Sunset

-

19.0

Fair; wind S. 80° W.

31

Daylight

-

17.0

Sunset

.

27.0

Fair; moderate SW. wind.

1844.

Jan. 1

Daylight

-

24.0

Fair; light clouds in E.

Sunset

-

28.0

2

Daylight

-

26.0

Thick snow falling.

3

Daylight

-

20.0

Heavy mist.

Sunset

-

23.0

Still misty.

4

7h. 12m.

a. m.

20.0

Sunset

-

24.0

Dense mist all day.

5

6h. 25m.

a. m.

12.0

Sunset

-

22.0

Wind NE. ; dense mist, as on the two previous days.

6

Sunrise

-

8.0

Mist breaking away; clear bright sunshine.

Sunset

-

21.0

Clear; nearly calm.

7

7h. 12m.

a. m.

6.0

Slight mist.

Noon

_

31.0

Evening

_

24.0

Clear sunset.

8

7h. 45m.

a. m.

20.0

Brisk NE. breeze; bright clouds in W.

Noon

_

35.0

Evening

-

30.0

Clear wind from SW. — Temperature of the main

spring at its edge 206°; the centre is doubtless at
the boiling point.

9

7k. 25m.

a. in.

23.0

Sunset

_

33.0

A little snow falling.

10

7h. 15m.

a. m.

22.0

Sunset

-

29.0

Overcast.

576

C 174 ]

Table of observations with the thermometer — Continued.

Date.

Time.

Thermometer.

Remarks.

1844.

De g. Fahr.

Jan. 11

SunrisiT

15.0

Sunset

20.0

Day fair; bright sun.

12

Sunrise

33.0

Sunset

28.0

Partially overcast; wind SW,

13

Sunrise

29.0

Overcast; wind S. 20° E.

Sunset

31.0

Snow falling thick; wind variable.

14

Sunrise

26.0

28.0

Nearly clear; wind N. 10° W.

Temperature of boiling water 204° .4 ; wind N. 6° W.

Sunset

26.0

Cloudy; snow falling; wind W.

15

Sunrise

31.0

Sunset

34.0

Clear; fair.

16

Sunrise

34.0

Sunset

35 0

Fair; light wind N. 50° W. all day.

17

Sunrise

17.0

Sunset

42.0

Calm; sun bright.

18

Sunrise

28.0

Reddish clouds in E.

3h. 14m. p. m.
Sunset

49.5 .
39.0

Temperature of boiling water 303° .7 ; winds. 20° W.

19

Sunrise

Sunset

37.0

35.0

Snow falling from 9h. till 1 lh. a. m. ; sun faint.

20

Sunrise

14.0

Oh. 55m. p. m.

41.0

Temperature of boiling water 204°. 3; wind W.

Sunset

32.0

Overcast; wind SW.

21

Sunrise

30.0

Snow falling fast from SW.; snow ceased at lOh. a.
m. ; sun shone out.

Sunset

29.0

Calm; clear sky.

22

Sunrise

30.0

Wind S. 25° W.; clouds rising in horizon; light
snow falling from 9h. a. m. to lh. p. m.

4h. 5m p. m. -

37 0

i Temperature of boiling water 204°. 2; wind high from
| SW.

Sunset

36.0

Sky clear; high SW. wind.

23

Sunrise

40.0

Moderate W. wind; dark clouds in N.

Sunset

42.0

Calm; sky nearly clear.

24

Sunrise

45.0

! Sunset

36.0

Sky clear; sun bright.

25

Sunrise

2.0

Fair day; nearly calm.

26

Sunrise

2.0

Perfectly clear; calm.

llh. 15m. a. m.
Sunset

30.0

47.0

Temperature of boiling water 282°. 2; calm

27

Sunrise

12.0

Sunset

33.0

Sky unclouded all the day.

4h. 25m. p. m.

34.0

Temperature of boiling water 202°; light breeze from
NW.

28

Sunrise

27-0

Sunset

40.0

Clear; sun bright; moderate SE. wind.

29

Sunrise

34.0

Reddish clouds in horizon to E. and N.; wind SE.

30

Sunrise

31.0

Calm and cloudy.

Sunset

39.0

Clouds breaking away.

31

Sunrise

25.0

Cumuli in SE. and N.

Feb. 1

Sunrise

27.0

Overcast; snow falling.

Noon

Sunset

40.0

24.0

Snowing all day.

2

Sunrise

24.0

Sunset

35.0

Calm; clear; bright sunshine.

6h. 15m. p. m.

31.0

Temperature of boiling water 201°. 5; calm.

3

Sunrise

14.0

Nearly clear; calm.

Sunset

26.0

Overcast.

3h. 45m. p. m.

28.0

Temperature of boiling water 201°.5; nearly calm.

4

Sunrise

Sunset

20.0

40.0

Light white clouds in E.

9h. p. m.

12.0

Strong SW. wind.

577 [ 174 ]

Table of observations with the thermometer — Continued.

Date.

Time.

Thermometer.

Remarks.

1844.

Deg. Fahr.

Feb. 5

Sunrise

10.0

Noon

Sunset

48.0

24.0

Clear 5 moderate S. wind.

6

Sunrise

16 0

Sky unclouded; light breeze SW.

Noon

Sunset

37.0

26.0

Sky unclouded; calm.

Oh. 25m. p. m. -

37.5

Temperature of boiling water 200°. 5; calm.

7

Sunrise

9.5

Sunset

28.0

Sky perfectly clear the whole day; light variable wind.

8

Sunrise

— 2.5

— 2.0
0.0

Sun shining full on high peaks.

Sun shining full on valley; sky cloudless; calm.

3h. 40m. p. m. -

38.0

Temperature of boiling water 199°. 7; light easterly
breeze; nearly clear.

Sunset

36.0

Wind east; whitish clouds rising in the horizon.

9

28.5

Just before sunrise.

Sunrise

29.0

Strong SW. wind; light scud, driving rapidly.

Noon

44.0

Moderate W'SW. wind; nearly clear; a few wind
clouds in W.

Sunset

24.0

Wind variable; nearly clear; a few wind clouds in W.

10

36.0

30m. before sunrise.

35.0

Nearly calm; cloudy in SW.

Noon

42.0

Wind SE.; white clouds in W.

Oh. 55m. p. m. -

42.5

Temperature of boiling water 199°. 5; moderate
SE. wind; sky nearly clear.

Sunset
.8h. p. m.

37.0

39.0

Moderate SE. wind; sky partially overcast.

11

Sunrise

33.0

Entirely overcast; wind shifting.

Noon

35.0

Clouds breaking away; violent gusts of wind from W.
Clearing off; moderate wind N. 80° W.

Sunset

33.5

12

Sunrise

32.5

Calm; sky nearly clear.

Sunset
8h. p. m.

35.0

33.0

Sky clear; gentle W. breeze.

13

34.0

30m. before sunrise.

Sunrise

33.0

Calm; cumuli in E. ; sun faint.

Sunset

35.0

Overcast; calm.

14

Sunrise

21.0

Sky clear; moderate westerly wind.

Sunset

32.5

Calm; sky nearly clear.

15

-

31.0

Calm; clouds in SW.; sun faint.

Uil L IOC-

Noon

41.0

Calm; watery clouds moving from SW'. to NE.

Sunset

31.5

Calm; sky nearly clear.

16

Sunrise

30.0

Wind SW.; rain clouds in E.

Sunset

33.0

Clear; moderate S. wind.
Entirely clear; calm.

17

Sunrise

23.0

Sunset

32.0

Entirely clear; calm.

18

Sunrise

22.5

Sky very clear; nearly calm.

Sunset

31.0

Calm; rain clouds in W.

19

Sunrise

23.0

Cloudless sky; calm.

Sunset

32.0

Cloudless sky; gentle breeze S. 60° E.

20

Sunrise

22.0

Clear; calm.

Sunset

37.0

Sky clear; brisk wind S. 70° W .

lh. 41m. p. m. -

47.0

Temperature of boiling water 197°. 5; moderate
wind S. 68° W.

21

Sunrise

32.0

Moderate W. wind; scattered watery clouds.

Noon

46.0

Cumuli all over the heavens; nearly calm; snow
falling on the mountains behind ; rain on the edge
of the valley beyond.

| Sunset

30.0

Sky still cloudy; strong breeze N. 65° E.

37

[ 174 ] 578

Table of observations with the thermometer — Continued.

Date.

Time.

Thermometer.

Remarks.

1844.

Deyr. Fahr.

Sun faint; moderate wind N. 55° E.

Feb. 22

Sunrise

29.0

Noon

400

Light watery clouds in S.; wind N. 40° E.

lh. 15m. p. m. -

37.5

Temperature of boiling water 198°. 7; watery clouds
in S. ; calm.

Sunset

31.0

Sky nearly calm; wind N. 50° E.

123

Sunrise

26.0

Cumuli around the horizon; moderate S. wind.

Sunset

48.0

Sky clear; calm.

24

Sunrise

27.0

Sky clear; wind E.

2h. 45m. p. m. -

60.0

Temperature of boiling water 206°; sky clear-, light
breeze from N.

March 9

Sunset

62 0

Light grayish clouds in S. ; moderate SE. wind.

10

Sunrise

34.0

Light grayish clouds; sky clear; calm.

Sunset

63.0

Sky cloudy; wind SW.

4h. 20m. p. m. -

64.0

Temperature of boiling water 211°. 6; brisk S„

-

wind; sky nearly clear.

11

Sunrise

45.0

Sky partially overcast; slight rain falling.

Sunset

56.0

Sky clear; no air stirring.

12

Sunrise

31.0

Sky unclouded; calm.

Sunset

63.0

Clear sky; brisk SW. wind.

13

Sunrise

35.0

No clouds visible; calm. f

Noon

75.0

Strong westerly breeze.

Sunset

68.0

Light watery clouds floating in hor., wind from NW ,

14

Sunrise

45.0

Moderate wind N. 10° W. ; unclouded.

Sunset

76.0

Clear; perfectly calm.

15

Sunrise

44.0

Calm and cloudless.

Sunset

74.0

Reddish clouds around the setting sun.

16

Sunrise

Noon

40.0

84.0

No wind; sky clear.

Sunset

58.0

No air stirring; clear.

17

Sunrise

46.0

Sky clear; calm-

Sunset

63.0

Slight haze in N. ; calm.

18

Sunrise

38.0

Clear; calm.

Sunset

64.0

Clear; calm.

19

Sunrise

41.0

Sky unclouded; no wind.

Sunset

68.0

Few scattering clouds in W.

20

Sunrise

40.0

Calm; unclouded.

Noon

81.0

In shade; white clouds in E.

Noon

96.0

In sun; slight breeze N. 10° E.

Sunset

70.0

Clear sky ; no wind.

21

Sunrise

41.0

Sky cloudy; calm.

Sunset

64.0

Dark clouds in E. ; wind N. 70° W,

22

Sunrise

36.0

Scattered wind clouds; wind W.

Sunset

64.0

Very cloudy; winds. 10° E.

23

Sunrise

44.0

Sky nearly clear; moderate SW. wind',

Sunset

63.0

Reddish clouds in W. ; wind SW.

24

Sunrise

42.0

Sky clear; calm.

Sunset

54.0

Clear; wind S. 80° W.

25

Sunrise

45.0

Cloudy in E.; sun faint; calm.

Sunset

63.0

Cloudy in horizon; gentle westerly breeze.

26

Sunrise

36.0

Sun faint; partially overcast.

Sunset

58.0

Calm; nearly clear.

27

Sunrise

45.0

Sky overcast; no wind.

Sunset

60.0

Very cloudy; appearance of rain; high W. wmo

28

Sunrise

44.0

Calm; clear.

29

Sunrise

36.0

Few dark clouds in E. ; calm.

Sunset

60.0

Cloudy; sun faint.

30

Sunrise

53.0

Overcast; slight rain falling.

Noon

55.0

Incessant rain; moderate wind S. 15° W

Sunset

56.0

Sky clouded; wind SW.

31

Sunrise

Noon

54.0

62.0

Heavy rain; wind S. 80° W0

579 [ 174 ]

Table of observations with the thermometer — Continued.

Date.

Time.

Thermometer.

Wet bulb.

Remarks.

1844.
Mar. 31

Sunset

Deg. Fahr.
58.0

Deg.

Clearing off; wind SW.

April 1

Sunrise

_

52.0

-

Sky nearly clear; calm.

Sunset

_

60.0

-

Dark clouds coming up in W. ; calm.

2

Sunrise

_

48.0

-

Cloudy; light easterly wind.

Noon

62.0

-

Rain from SW.; overcast.

Sunset

_

54.0

_

Brisk wind S. 15° E.; clearing off.

3

Sunrise

_

43.0

Sky nearly clear; wind E.

Sunset

56.0

_

Few clouds in SE.; strong breeze N.

4

Sunrise

41.0

60° W.

Slight rain falling; wind S, 60° W.

Sunset

_

60.0

Raining; wind from SW*

5

Sunrise

_

37.0

-

Sky clear, calm.

Sunset

68.0

. -

Sky clear; calm.

6

Sunrise

35.0

-

Sky cloudless; no wind.

Noon

90.0

_ v .

In shade.

Noon

_

98.0

-

In sun; sky nearly clear; light SE.

Sunset

72.0

breeze.

Wind S. 40° E.; cloudy in NE.

7

Sunrise

49.0

Raining; overclouded.

8

Sunrise

_

35 0

L

Wind N. 60° W ; sky nearly clear.

•

Sunset

_

52.0

Heavy clouds in W. ; moderate wind S.

9

Sunrise

38.0

80° W.

Sky clear and calm.

Sunset

52.0

Dark cumuli in W. ; light breeze N. 55°

10

Sunrise

36.0

W.

Perfectly clear; no air stirring.

Sunset

56.0

—

Nearly clear; calm.

11

Sunrise

37.0

~

Sky overcast; calm.

Sunset

57.0

_

Cloudy in horizon; high wind in N, 45°

12

Sunrise

32-0

W.

Smoky; sun faint; calm.

Sunset

62.0

Dense, smoke; sun obscured.

13

Sunrise

-

45.0

-

Smoky appearance continues; sun faint.

Sunset

52.0

_

Sky nearly clear; calm.

14

Sunrise

40.0

-

Clear and calm.

Sunset

53.0

_ '

Moderate wind N. 80° W. ; clear.

15

Sunrise

40.0

>_

Clear sky; no wind.

Sunset

56.0

_

High wind S. 15° E.; unclouded.

16

Sunrise

48 0

_

Clear; moderate wind S. 20° E.

Sunset

54.0

. _

Brisk breeze S. 30° E.; clear.

17

Sunrise

_

40.0

_

Moderate wind S. 30° E.; cloudy in E.

18

Sunrise

J

52.0

_

Masses of clouds over the sky; light

Sunset

48.0

breeze S. 60° W.

Clouds over setting sun; wind S. 80° W.

19

Sunrise

- i

30.0

_

Moderate wind S. 80° W. ; sky nearly

Sunset

54.9

clear.

Sky overcast; clouds in N W. ; wind S.

20

Sunrise

47.0

60° W.

Dark cumuli in E.; moderate wind S.

21

Sunrise

47.0

70° W.

Dense mist greater part of the day; cold
SW. wind.

Hazy; sun faint; strong wind N. 80° W.

Noon

_

74.0

_

In shade.

Noon

82.0

-

In sun; sky clear; wind N. 80° W.

Sunset

53.0

_

Sky clear; brisk wind N. 80° W.
Perfectly clear; gentle westerly breeze.

22

Sunrise

47.0

Sunset

60.0

_

Bright sunset; moderate west wind.

Sunset

. _

-

Temperature of boiling water 208°5.

23

Sunrise

38.5

38.0

Clear, except in E. ; cold wind N. 70° W.

Sunset

-

54.0

50.0

Sky covered with watery cl’ds; wind W.

[ 174 ] 580

Table of observations with the thermometer — Continued.

Date.

Time.

Thermometer.

Wet bulb.

Remarks.

1844.

Deg. Fahr.

Deg.

April 24

Sunrise

-

48.0

45.0

Clouds in E.; moderate W. wind.

Noon

_

76.0

69.0

Clear; brisk wind S. 80° W.

Sunset

-

66 0

58.5

Clouds breaking away after a sprinkling

of rain.

25

Sunrise

61.5

48.0

Nearly clear; calm.

Sunset

-

62.0

57.0

Clouds in N. calm.

26

Sunrise

-

42.0

43.0

Perfectly clear; calm.

Noon

90-0

85.0

Sky clear; shifting breeze.

Sunset

-

80-5

71.0

Dark clouds in the N., calm.

27

Sunrise

-

44.0

45.0

Clear; calm.

Noon

.

90.5

78.0

Thin white clouds in horizon; southerly

breeze at intervals.

28

Sunrise

-

66.0

59.5

Nearly clear; calm.

Sunset

-

52.0

48.5

Heavy clouds in NE . ; strong wind S.

15° W.

29

Sunrise

-

46.0

47.5

Scattered clouds; calm; temperature of

spring used 66°.

Noon

-

69.0

58.0

Clouds; wind brisk S. 30° W.

Sunset

-

57.0

54.5

Cloudy; moderate wind S. 20° W.

30

Sunrise

-

44.5

43.0

Cloudy in E. ; cold wind S. 80° E.

Sunset

-

60.5

54.0

Bright sunset; calm; cumuli <fn near

.

mountains.

May 1

Sunrise

-

40 5

42.0

Very clear; calm.

Sunset

-

56.0

48.0

Calm; brilliant sunset.

2

Sunrise

32.0

35.5

Clear; calm.

Sunset

_

55.5

50.0

Clear; calm.

3

Sunrise

_

30.0

34.0

Clear; calm.

Sunset

_

67.0

63.0

Clear; calm.

4

Sunrise

-

38.0

41.5

Clear; light breeze N. 70° W-

52.0

-

rr . f C Large spring 73°.

Temperature of \SmSlkr spring 11°.

5

Sunrise

-

42.0

41.0

Ciear; calm-

Noon

-

104 0

85.0

Clear; breeze at intervals.

Sunset

-

56.0

50.0

Clear; shifting breeze.

Sunrise

-

41.0

40.0

Clear; calm.

6h. 20m. p.

m.

70.0

, -

Temperature of boiling water 205°. 7.

Sunset

-

70.5

69.0

7

Sunrise

-

42.0

40.0

Light white clouds in E. ; calm.

Sunset

_

76.0

67.0

Clear; calm.

8

Sunrise

-

42.5

42.0

Calm; slight haze.

Sunset

_

76-0

69.0

Clear; moderate wind S. 40° W.

9

Sunrise

-

68.0

56.5

Clouds in E. ; calm.

70.0

-

Temperature of spring 76°.

Noon

-

94.0

85.5

Large masses of white cloud in NE . ,

high wind S. 70° W.

Sunset

-

70.0

60.0

Clear; slight breeze S. 75° W.

10

Sunrise

-

35.0

41.5

Clear; calm.

35.0

-

Temperature of river 48°.

Sunset

-

56.0

53.0

Clear; nearly calm.

11

Sunrise

53.5

52.0

Sky mottled with dark purple clouds;

moderate wind N. 80° W. ; shower of
rain between 6h. and 7h. a. m.

Sunset

-

53.0

50.0

Dark clouds over the sky ; brisk wind N.

10° E.

12

Sunrise

-

44.0

45.5

Eastern sky clouded; breeze N. 15° E.

70.0

-

Temperature of boiling water 203°. 8;

few white clouds on blue sky; moder-
ate wind N. 40° E.

Sunset

-

46.0

45.0

Clear; -calm.

13

Sunrise

-

31.5

33.0

Sky perfectly clear; calm-
Bright sunset; southerly breeze.

Sunset

-

56.0

53.0

581 [ 174 ]

Table of observations with the thermometer— Continued.

Date.

Time.

Thermometer.

Wet bulb.

1844.
May 14

Sunrise

Deg. Fahr.
42.0

Deg.

41.5

Noon

-

83.0

68 5

Sunset

55.0

50.0

15

Sunrise

41.5

41.0

Sunset

-

61.0

58.0

16

Sunrise

.

32.0

32.5

Sunset

-

52.0

48.0

17

Sunrise

_

33.0

36.0

Sunset

-

52.0

48.0

18

Sunrise

45.0

42.5

Noon

-

48.0

52.0

Sunset

_

53.0

50.5

19

Sunrise

29.5

32.0

Sunset

_

50.0

48 0

20

Sunrise

-

39.0

39.0

Noon

-

88.5

Sunset

48.5

47.5

21

Sunrise

-

45.5

46.5

Sunset

-

70.0

61.0

22

Sunrise

_

56.0

52.0

Sunset

-

55.0

50.0

23

Sunrise

-

44.0

43.5

Sunset

45.0

41.0

24

Sunrise

41.5

42.5

Sunset

-

47.5

48.0

25

Sunrise

-

30.5

36.0

Sunset

-

65.0

62.0

26

Sunrise

44 0

45.5

Sunset

_

64.0

60.0

27

Sunrise

_

44.0

46.0

Sunset

_

45.0

46,0

28

Sunrise

_

35.0

39.5

Sunset

-

46.0

46.5

29

Sunrise

-

29.5

33.0

Oh. 15m. p.

m.

66.0

Sunset

45; 0

45.5

30

Sunrise

-

36.0

35.0

Sunset

-

58.0

54.5

31

Sunrise

_

31.5

36.0

Sunset

-

54.0

53.5

June 1

Sunrise

_

48.5

49.0

Sunset

-

62.0

50.0

2

Sunrise

.

46.0

45.0

Sunset

-

64.0

58.0

3

Sunrise

_

42.0

41.0

4

Sunrise

_

43.0

42.0

Sunset

-

66.0

62.0

5

Sunrise

-

48.0

47.0

Sunset

_

68.0

62.0

6

Sunrise

.

44.5

44.5

Sunset

-

72.0

61.0

Remarks.

Clear; moderate wind S. 30° W.

White bank of clouds in N. ; strong wind S.
30° W.

Sky nearly clear; wind high, S. 30° W.
Scattered clouds; calm.

Cloudy in horizon; moderate S. wind.

Nearly clear; wind S.

Very cloudy; few drops of rain; high N.
wind.

Cloudy in horizon; calm.

Very cloudy; appearance of rain; wind S.
70° W.

Overcast; heavy rain; wind S. 65° W.
Heavy and incessant rain; wind S. 65° W.
Clearing off; wind N. 30° E.

Nearly clear; wind N. 20° E.

Cloudy in horizon; calm.

Perfectly clear; calm.

Temperature 6f boiling water 203°: sky
clear; breeze S. 30° W.

Nearly clear; calm.

Clear; calm.

Very cloudy; mild S. wind.

Reddish clouds in E.; brisk S. wind.
Cloudy; wind S.

Cloudy in horizon; cold S. wind.

Scattered clouds; calm.

Sky overcast; few drops of rain.

Sky nearly clear; calm.

Perfectly clear; calm.

Sky clear; calm; Utah lake.

Sky overcast; calm.

Very cloudy; high wind N. 20° E.

Clouded; appearance of rain; calm.

Bright sunset; clear.

Clear; calm.

Sky very clear; calm.

Clear and calm

Station on Uintah waters, 1,500 feet below
the pass in the dividing ridge between the
waters of White and Uintah rivers; tem-
perature of boiling water 201°. 3; sky
very clear and calm.

Perfectly clear; calm.

Sky clear; calm.

Clear; no air stirring.

Clear; calm.

Clear; calm.

Clouded inE.; calm.

Very cloudy; sprinkling of rain; brisk wind
N. 70° W.

Scattered clouds; calm.

Clouds in horizon; moderate wind N. 30°
W.

Clear and calm.

Clear and calm.

Bright sunset; calm-
Clear; calm.

Clear; calm.

Clear; calm.

Clear; moderate wind N. 45° E.

[ 174 ] 582

Table of observations with the thermometer — Continued.

Date.

Time.

Thermometer

. VVetbulb.

1844.

Deg. Fahr.

Deg.

une 6

7h. 45m. p. m.

71.0

7

Sunrise

52.0

50.0

Sunset

75 0

72.0

8

Sunrise

45.0

48.0

Noon

80.0

75.0

Sunset

70.0

68.0

9

Sunrise

44.5

44.0

Sunset

72.0

68.0

10

Sunrise

33.0

38.0

Sunset

65.0

59.0

11

Sunrise

32.0

37.5

Sunset

60.0

57.0

12

Sunrise

40.0

42.0

Sunset

60.0

57.0

13

Sunrise

36.0

38.0

lh. p. m.

76.5

-

14

Sunrise

44.0

43.0

Sunset

76.0

66.0

15

Sunrise

42.0

42.5

Sunset

54.5

53.0

16

Sunrise

34.0

36.0

Sunset

51.0

52.0

17

Sunrise

29.0

36.0

18

Sunrise

42.0

42 5

19

-

63.0

-

Sunset

68.0

64.0

20

Sunrise

30.0

36.0

Sunset

49.5

48.5

21

Sunrise

40.0

39.0

Sunset

60.5

-

22

Noon

76.0

Sunset

49.0

49.0

23

Sunrise

33.0

34.0

26

Sunset

46.0

50.0

27

Sunrise

38.0

40.0 i

Sunset

62.0

57.5

28

Sunrise

42.0

44.0 i

Sunset

74.0

71.5 :

29

Sunrise

44.0

46.0 :

Sunset

74.5

72.5 <

30

Sunrise

56.0

55 0 *

Sunset

78.5

76.0 <

tly 1

Sunrise

61.0

61.0 i

Sunset

81.0

80.0 i

2

Sunrise

60.0

60.0 (

Noon

85.0

84.0 1

Sunset

84.0

80.0 1

3

Sunrise

66.0

66.5 1

Remarks.

Temperature of boiling water 200°. ? ; sky
clear; moderate wind N. 45° E.

Sky clear; moderate wind N. 45° E.
Temperature of boiling water 204°; very
cloudy.

Very clear; calm.

Sky nearly clear; moderate wind S. 80° W.
Dark heavy clouds over the sky.

Clear; calm.

Dark clouds in the western horizon; light
breeze S. 70° W.

Sky clear; calm.

Clouds in horizon; moderate wind N. 40°
E.

Sky nearly clear; calm.

Sky mottled with clouds; moderate wind S.
65° W.

Sky clear; calm.

Few clouds in W.; moderate wind S. 40°
W.

Sky clear; calm.

Temperature of boiling water 199°.5; calm;

thin white clouds in horizon
Sky very clear; calm.

Bright sunset; calm.

Sky clear; calm.

Temperature of boiling water 200°; sky
clear; slight westerly breeze.

Clear; calm.

Bright sunset; calm.

Perfectly clear; calm.

Sky clear; calm.

Temperature of boiling water 20 1°. 6: clear, -
slight westerly breeze.

Sky nearly clear; calm.

Clear; calm.

Bright sunset; calm.

Slight mist; southerly breeze.

Sky mottled with clouds; shifting breeze.
Fork of Grand river, 1,600 feet below the
divide; temperature of boiling water
195°. 8; clear southerly breeze.

Masses of white clouds; wind variable.

Sky perfectly clear; calm.

Clear; calm.

Clear; calm.

Bright sunset; calm.

Cloudless sky; calm.

Nearly clear; calm.

Sky clear; calm.

Clear; shifting breeze.

Clear; calm.

Clouds in NE. ; moderate wind N. 60° E.
Sky clear; calm.

Sky clear, southerly breeze.

Clear; calm.

Nearly clear; calm.

Dark threatening clouds in W.; high wind
S. 50° E.

Masses of clouds over the whole sky : calm-

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

583

[ 174 ]

able of observations with the thermometer—- Continued.

Time.

Thermometer.

inset

mrise

inset

mrise

inset

mrise

inset

mrise

inset

mrise

oon

inset

unrise

unset

unrise

unset

unrise

unset

unrise

unset

unrise

unset

unset

unrise

Joon

Sunset

Sunrise

Sunset

Sunrise

Sunset

Sunrise

Sunset

Sunrise

Sunset

Sunrise

Sunset

Sunrise

Sunset

Sunrise

Sunset

Sunrise

Sunset

Sunrise

Sunset (?)

Sunrise

2h. p. m.

Sunrise

2h. p. m.

Sunrise

2h. p. m.

Sunrise

2h. p. m.

Sunrise

Wet bulb.

Deg. Fahr.
80.0

70.5
82.0
66.0

62,0

75.0

65.5

80.0

64.5

91.0

81.0

68.0

79.5

63.0

82.5

68.0

79.0

70.0

88.0

73.0

80.0
82.0

72.0

79.0

76.0

70.5

73.5

68.0

80.0

68.5

72.0

60.0

69.0
53 0

73.5

60.0

78.0

68.0

80.0

65.0

74.0

64.0

82.0

68.0

83.0

70.0

82.0

70.0

84.0

70.0

100.0

72.0

Remarks.

Deg.

76.5

70.5

77.0

66.0

63.0

73.5

65.5

78.0

64.5

89.0

80.0

66.5

76.0

61.0
80.0
70.0

76.5

70.0

86.0

72.0

79.5

80.0

70.0

78.5

75.0

70.0
74 0

68.0

79.0

68.0

71.5

61.5

66.0

54.5

71.0

61.0

76.0

69.0

78.0

64.0

74.5

64.0

81.0

67.0

70.5

71.0
70.5
71.0

Sky clouded; thunder and lightning.

Clouds in E. ; calm.

Few drops of rain; calm-
Clear and calm.

Heavy rain; NW. wind.

Sky overcast; calm.

Clouds in horizon; calm.

Very cloudy; calm.

Western sky clouded; calm.

Fair; calm.

Sky clear and calm.

Sky partially overcast; calm; thunder and
lightning, with heavy rain between 10h.
and llh. p. m.

Nearly clear; calm.

Clear; no air stirring.

Few clouds; calm.

Clouds passing off after a thunder shower.
Sky clear; calm.

Storm coming up from westward.

Thin watery clouds moving from SW. to
NE . ; breeze variable.

Cumuli in W. ; wind S. 10° E.

Sky nearly clear; moderate wind S. 30° E.
Scattered clouds; calm.

Clouded every where except in the zenith,
slight breeze S.*40° E.

Sky cloudy; sun faint.

Sky entirely overcast; calm.

Sun and clouds; calm.

Cloudy; appearance of rain.

Cloudy every where except around the set-
ting sun; drops of rain; calm.

Partially overcast; calm.

Sky clear; moderate wind S. 25° W.

White clouds in horizon; moderate wind S.
15° W.

Clouds rising in eastward; high windS. 40°
W.

Sun faint; partially overcast; cold wind S.
45° E.

Sky nearly clear; calm.

Sky clear, except in horizon; calm.

Sky nearly clear; slight breeze S. 35° E.
Sky clear; calm.

Sky almost clear; calm.

Cloudy, except in the zenith; calm.

Wind clouds in W. ; moderate windS. 30° E.
Clear and calm.

Low dark clouds in N. ; high wind S. 45° E.
Sky clear; calm.

Few clouds; moderate wind S.

Overcast; shifting breeze.

Very clouded; calm.

Clear; slight breeze.

Very much overcast; calm.

Misty and calm.

Clear; no breeze.

Clear; calm.

' ' ’ - - / y\ . * " «.
- .'*•

«. (

- ; ■ . . - •

'

vrv."- . ■ ■ ■' . :•■■■

■ ■ . ' - . ' : ’ ' , N

• _ v - •. ■
• ' ' -1

' . : ■ ■" % : <y->* •< N •

’ • ; " •' l'

. ^ >

v . . ■'! - / ,

■.■.■•.I- , > / -ri ' 1 '•

. • ' , . ; ,-:r> , - ' • '• - ■ - .. ^ • < ‘

- 'vr / -v t J V . '

. • ' . ' • ,f • . : • '■ ' ,

4 «• - ■

f}

y

1

: ' • - • • . . ' • • ' ...

v

1 fv’ •• " •, - J.. '

'

A‘ -

'■ , • • • • ' • :

. ■ ' . r . f

y ■ ' ■ ' v : -.r> . '' ■"

'

' '

ASTRONOMICAL OBSERVATIONS

MADE DURING THE

EXPEDITION TO THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS

IN THE YEAR 1848.

[ 174 ]

586

ST. LOUIS— RESIDENCE OF COLONEL J. B. BRANT.
Determination of time, May 24, 1S42 — attitude of tfte sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the lower limb of the sun.

Time of chronometer

. (Rockbank.)

Des;.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

42

49

10

6

32

54

41

12

30

6

36

55

40

30

10

6

38

54

RESULT OF C.

ALCULATION.

Mean time.

.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec .

h. min. sec.

5 13 40

1

1 22 35

Determination of longitude, May 27, 1842-

\ g

—altitude of Vega.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

Double altitude of Vega.

Time of chronometer.
No. 7,810.

1

Double altitude of
Vega.

I Time of
No.

chronometer.

7,810.

Des;.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Des •

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

87

03

20

3 57

43

90

43

30

4

06

41

88

04

50

3 59

31

91

17

20

4

08

10

88

50

10

4 01

31

92

01

50

4

10

09

89

22

20

4 03

01

92

39

40 j

4

11

52

89

54

20

4 04

25

93

22

10 i

4

13

46

SECOXTI SERIES.

Thermometer 66°.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. mm. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

10 16 35

5

49 01

90 15 51

5S7

[ 174 ]

ST. LOUIS— RESIDENCE OF COLONEL J. B. BRANT.

Determination of latitude , May 27, IS42 — altitude of Pola?'is.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

■ *.

min.

sec.

,

74

38

20

4

30

27

74

39

10

4

32

41

74

40

10

4

35

20

Index error = — 20 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

37 18 12

10 43 48

38 37 24

ENCAMPMENT AT CHOUTEAU’S LOWER TRADING

HOUSE, RIGHT BANK OF

THE K A A Z AS RIVER, 700 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE GULF OF
MEXICO.

[From this date, up to the 24th of August, the Broekbank pocket chronometer was used in not-
ing time ]

Determination of longitude, June 9, 1S42 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOXD

SERIES.

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

; Time of chronometer.
(Broekbank.)

! Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

i

Time of chronometer.
(Broekbank.)

Deg.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Dtg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

53

19 00

6

29

32.5

51

21

30

6

34

39.5

52

54 50

6

30

36.0

51

02

20

6

35

30.0

52

39 35

i 6

31

15.6

50

45

50

6

36

123

52

22 25

6

32

01.0 j

i 50

24

00

6

37

10.0

52

02 50

: 6

32

51.0

J

50

i ' *

10

00

6

37

45.7 •

Index error = — 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min.

sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

4 57

22

1

36 25

94 39 31

588

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT CHOUTEAU’S LOWER TRADING HOUSE, RIGHT BANK OF
THE KANZAS RIVER, 700 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE GULF OF
MEXICO.

Determination of latitude , June 9, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

mm .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

24

50

3

29

59

75

25

05

3

31

50

75

26

00

3

33

35

75

26

20

3

35

22

75

27

00

3

37

00

75

28

40

3

38

44

75

28

50

3

40

42

75

28

10

•

3

42

05

75

30

40

3

44

14

75

30

50

3

46

07

Thermometer 55°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.
37 42 26

f

//. min. sec.
9 31 43

Deg. min. sec.
39 05 53

June 9, 1S42 — altitude of Antares in the meridian.

Double altitude of Antares.

True altitude.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

49 42 50

24 49 17

39 06 00

589

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE KANZAS RIVER.
Determination of longitude, June 16, 1S42 — altitude of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double

altitude

of the :

1 Time of chronometer.

Double

altitude of the

Time of chronbmeter.

lower limb of the sun.

lower limb of the sun.

Deg.

■min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

56

40

00

6

26

31.5

53

37

50

6

34

26.0

56

13

55

6

27

41.5

53

21

45

6

35

07.7

55

53

15

6

28

34.0

53

08

00

6

35

47.0

55

35

20

6

29

22.0

52

49

55

6

36

32.7

55

16

55

6

30

10.0

52

30

30

6

37

23.0

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

Determination of latitude, June 16, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

31

20

10

53

40

75

32

50

10

56

14

75

34

20

10

58

42

75

34

20

11

00

39

75

34

55

11

02

30

75

36

50

11

04

30

75

37

00

11

06

16

75

37

30

11

08

16

75

37

55

11

09

43

75

39

40

11

12

59

True altitude.

Deg. min. sec.
37 46 42

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

h. min. sec.

9 22 30

Latitude.

Deg. min.
39 06

sec.

40

5^0

r ™ j

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE KANZAS RIVER.

Determination of latitude , June 16, 1842 — altitude of <* Jlquilse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

i

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude of a
Aquilse.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of a
Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

50 14 00

11 26 08

52 43 40

11 32 46

51 11 20

11 28 42

53 29 00

11 34 42

51 52 20

11 30 28 j

54 17 40

11 36 49

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance

■

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9 50 47

L 40 48

96 10 06

ENCAMPMENT ON LITTLE VERMILLION CREEK.

Determination of longitude , June 18, 1S42 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

.

FIRST SERIES.

|

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude of the
lower limb of the sun.

Time of chronometer. |

I

1

Double altitude of the
lower limb of the sun.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

40

41

00

7

10

41 0

39

05

00

7

14

58.0'

40

19

20

7

11

38 0

38

43

50

7

15

52.5

40

01

00

7

12

26.5

38

30

10

7

16

30.0

39

44

10

7

13

11.5

38

13

50

7

17

14.0

39

19

40

7

14

17.5

38

00

00

7

17

50.0

Index error = — 35 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION,

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

A-. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

5 32 18

1 42 10

96 36 40

591

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON LITTLE VERMILLION CREEK.
Determination of latitude , June 18, 1842 — altitude of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris. j Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

aec.

h.

min.

sec.

75

49

00

10

44

04

75

50

20

10

48

08

75

51

40

10

51

48

75

52

20

10

53

34

75

53

20

10

55

09

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

4

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

37 54

12

9 08 46

| 39 15 18

(

ENCAMPMENT ON A TRIBUTARY OF THE BIG VERMILLION CREEK, 1,350
FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of longitude , June 19, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

/

Double altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

lower limb of the sun.

lower limb of the sun.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

38

16

40

7

18

16.0

37

59

30

7

19

02.4

36

16

40

7

23

39.0

37

43

45

7

19

45.0

35

46

50

7

24

59.5

37

24

35

7

20

36 0

35

27

40

7

25

50.6

36

45

20

7

22

22.0

Index error == — 42 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

5 39 43

1 42 41

96 48 05

592

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A TRIBUTARY OF THE BIG VERMILLION CREEK, 1,350
FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of latitude , June 19, 1842 — altitude of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min . sec.

76 19 30

10 40 52

76 21 00

10 44 51

76 23 00

10 48 53

76 24 40

10 53 06

76 24 20

10 55 47

76 26 15

10 58 58

76 27 20

1 1 00 25

76 27 50

11 01 49

76 28 50

11 04 36

76 29 50

11 06 52

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

38 11 07

9 13 11

39 30 40

593

[ iU ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LITTLE BLUE RIVER, 1,600 FEET ABOVE THE
LEVEL OF THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of latitude , June 25, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec .

h.

min.

sec.

78

15

20

10

36

14

78

16

45

10

40

50

78

17

50

10

43

36

78

19

25

10

45

14

-

78

20

15

10

46

57

78

20

20

10

48

25

78

20

50

10

49

45

*

78

21

25

10

51

23

78

22

15

10

52

40

78

23

10

10

54

17

Index error = -f- 25 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg .

min. sec.'

39 09 00

8 57

19

40

26 56

Determinatian of longitude, June 25, 1842 — altitude of » Aquilx .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES. | SECOND SERIES-

Double

altitude

Aquilse.

of a j

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of a
Aquilse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

'min.

sec.

h. min .

sec.

50

34

40

11

01

45.0

53

06

20

11 08

34.0

51

19

10

11

03

47.3

53

40

07

11 10

05.5

52

11

15

11

06

07.0

54

27

15

11 12

11.0

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

|

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min.

t l

sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

9

17 26

t

1

49

39

98 54

07

[ 1?4 ]

58 4

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LITTLE BLUE RIVER.

Determination of latitude , June 25, 1842 — altitude of Antares near the

meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Antares.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

4.5

55

30

11

18

02

46

03

00

11

19

42

46

22

50

11

26

26

46

27

30

11

27

46

46

32

20

11

30

04

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

23 28 33

-

40 26 43

595

C 174 ]

FIRST ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIGHT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER, 1,970 FEET
ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of latitude , June 26, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

79

06

15

11

20

50

79

07

10

11

23

29

79

09

20

11

25

51

79

09

35

11

27

28

79

10

45

11

30

09

79

11

30

11

32

00

79

12

30

11

34

00

79

14

20

11

35

52

79

14

35

11

37

00

79

15

00

11

38

54

Index error = -f- 25 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Deg. min. sec.
39 34 31

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.
40 41 10

Determination of latitude , June 26, 1842 — altitude of Ant ares near the

meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Antares.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

46

31

20

11

48

34

46

32

20

11

51

03

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

23 14 13

"

40 41 03

596

[ 174 ]

FIRST ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIGHT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER, 1,970 FEET
ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of longitude , June 26, 1842 — altitude of a. tfquilse.

OBSERVATIONS.

TIRST SERIES.

\

SECOND

SERIES.

Double

altitude

of a

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude

i

of a ;

Time of chronometer.

Aquilse.

|

Aquilse.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

74

24

40

12

05

20.5 !

75

04

50

12

07

15.5

78

36

35

12

17

35.5

75

39

30

12

08

58.0

79

16

45

12

19

30.0

76

It)

10

12

10

26.0

79

44

30

12

20

56.0

76

475

15

12

12

10.0

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

5. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

10 23 06

1 50 59

99 17 47

597

[ 174 ]

'SECOND ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIGHT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of longitude , June 27, 1842— altitude of a dlquilse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

Double altitude of a
Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitude of a
Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg

min.

sec.

, h-

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

71

43

10

11

54

4L0

73

26

20

11

59

38

72

38

50

11

57

20.0

1

73

52

40

12

00

52

73

07

00

11

58

41.5

74

50

00

12

03

38

_

Index error

=

+ io

sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

10 07 03

1

62 05

99 37 45

Determination of latitude , June 27, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

De g.

78

79
79
79

mm.

59

01

04

05

sec.

45

30

00

55

h.

11

11,

11

11

mm.

13

16

20

24

sec.

03

46

40

12

79 07 00

11 26 OS

!

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min . sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

39 30 50

9 28 36

40 39 32

598

[ 174 ]

THIRD ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIGHT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude , June 2S, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris. j Time of chronometer.

Beg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

78

59

20

11

05

05

78

59

35

11

07

32

79

00

25

11

08

46

79

01

15

11

10

02

79

01

50

11

13

08

79

03

30

11

14

49

79

04

35

11

16

42

79

05

20

11

18

09

79

05

55

11

19

11

79

06

40

11

20

56

Index error = — 20 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

39 30 13

9 20 25

40 39 50

539

C rn ]

FIFTH ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIGHT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude , June 30, 1842 — altitude of dint ares near

the meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Antares.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

46

15

50

11

36

38

46

17

50

11

40

59

46

15

50

11

44

18

Time of chronometer.

Index error = — 20 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

1

Determination of longitude , June 30, 1S42 — altitude of a Aquilse .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a Aquiis.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

61 12 40

11 17 05 5

61 48 30

ll 18 49.0

62 22 20

11 20 19.0

63 10 50

11 22 35.0

63 59 50

11 24 52.6

%

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

1

h. m:n . sec ,

Deg. min. sec.

9

25 20

1 55 24

100 38 10

600

[ 174 ]

FIFTH ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIGHT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude , June 30, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

** j - '

Double altitude of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec .

h.

min .

sec.

79

16

40

10

57

01

79

17

26

10

59

13

79

19

00

11

01

20

79

19

35

11

02

56

79

20

40

11

04

44

79

21

10

11

06

09

79

21

50

11

07

50

79

22

40

11

09

19

79

23

00

11

10

59

79

24

40

11

12

56

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

39 39 04

9 09 51

40 49 55

601

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE JUNCTION OF THE NORTH AND SOUTH FORKS OF
THE PLATTE RIVER, 2,700 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE GULF OF
MEXICO. %

Determination of longitude , July 2, 1842 — sun’s altitude.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES. || SECOND SERIES.

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer. J

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

35

21

30

7

44

57.0

32

12

20

7

53

39.0

34

54

00

7

46

11.5

32

00

00

7

54

14.5

34

24

50

7

47

32.0

31

48

10

7

54

49.0

33

46

15

7

49

19.5

31

29

30

7

55

40.0

33

01

50

7

51

23.5

31

14

10

7

56

23.5

Index error = — 18 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

5 53 34

1

57 50

101 22

00

Determination of longitude , July 2 , 1S42 — altitude of a Aquilse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude of a

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of a

Time of chronometer.

Aquil®.

Aquilae.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. see.

73 25 40

11 46 41

75 36 25

11 53 03

74 10 30

11 48 51

76 18 40

11 55 06

74 49 20

11 50 42

76 43 10

i

11 56 18

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

I"

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. - min. sec.

9 53 58

1 57 49

101 22 00

3-9

602

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE JUNCTION OF THE NORTH AND SOUTH FORKS OF
THE PLATTE RIVER, 2,700 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE GULF OF
MEXICO.

Determination of latitude , July 2 , 1842 — altitude of Jintares in the

meridian.

Double altitude of the star.

True altitude.

Latitude.

Deg. min . sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

45 44 15

22 49 55

41 05 22

Determination of longitude , July 3, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

Double

altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

53

50

50

9

08

22.0

57

06

25

9

17

05.5

54

09

30

9

09

04.5

57

43

05

9

18

44.5

55

05

50

9

11

43.5

58

15

40

9

20

12.7

55

38

20

9

13

n.cf

58

41

40

9

21

22.0

56

09

20

9

14

35.3

59

11

25

9

22

41.5

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

• Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 18 01

1 57 41

Time did not permit us to wait at some of the most important geographi-
cal positions for favorable weather, and I have occasionally referred to these
the observations taken at less marked localities. By the chronometric dif-
ference, the lunar distance of September 16, observed about forty miles
below, is referred to this place.

I

603 [ 174 ]

NCAMFMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE SOUTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.
Determination of longitude , July 4, 1S42 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

-

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min .

sec.

h.

min,

sec.

55

49

40

6

52

22

53 54

15

6

57

05

55

24

10

6

53

05

53 34

00

6

57

59

54

57

10

6

54

17

53 20

40

6

58

35

54

30

50

6

55

2ff

53 02

30

6

59

23

54

14

50

6

56

10

52 44

30

7

00

11

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

*

%

604

[ 1-4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON AN ISLAND IN THE SOUTH FORK OF THE PLATTE RIVER.
Determination of latitude , July 6, 1842 — altitude of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min. sec.

79 53

40

11

43 02

-

79 59

00

11

53 24

Index error = -J- 1 5 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

39 57 21

9 42 30 •

40 51

17

Determination of longitude , July 6, 1842 — altitude of a Jlquilx.

OBSERVATIONS.

• Double altitude of a

Aquilse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min. sec.

80

53

20

12

00 14

82

52

10

12

06 14

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

-

h.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

9

57 31

•

2

05

43

103 35

04

605

[ i-4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SOUTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of longitude , July 7, 1842 — altitude of a Aquilae.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a Aquilae.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

83

29

20

12

04

45

84

16

10

12

07

07

85

19

50

12

10

54

86

01

20

12

12

32

86

41

30

12

14

37

Time of chronometer.

Index error = — j— 15 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

10 02 42

2

07 17

104 02 13

Determination of latitude , July 7, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

»

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

79

43

40

12

18

37 ,

79

44

50

12

21

39

79

48

00

12

24

28

79

51

00

12

29

54

79

52

40

12

33

19

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

39 53 11

10 18 17

40 33 26

606

[ ]

ENCAMPMENT AT ST. VRAIN’S FORT, SOUTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER, 5,440
FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of longitude , July 11, 1S42 — altitude of the sun-

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

50

01

40

9

18

23

53

00

00

9

26

17.0

50

34

50

9

19

52

53

36

55

9

27

53.5

51

01

05

9

21

02

54

17

20

9

29

40.0

51

28

10

9

22

13

54

48

15

9

31

02.0

52

02

55

9

23

45

55

21

30

9

32

30.6

Index error = -j- 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

7 11 54

2 13 22

105 45 13

Determination of longitude , July 12, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude of the

Time of chronometer.

i Double altitude of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

i sun’s lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

62

33

10

9

51

51

66 09 30

10

01 20.0

63

27

20

9

54

13

j 67 09 30

10

04 55.5

63

57

00

9

55

32

/■

64

48

00

9

57

45

1

607

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON CROW CREEK.

Determination of latitude , July 12, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

«ac.

A.

min. '

sec.

79

39

30

11

31

28

79

41

40

11

35

29

79

45

40

11

41

24

Index error = -f- 7

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude

Deg. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

39 50 13

9 25 31

40 42 00

Determination of longitude , July 12, 1842 — altitude of a Aquilde.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECORD

SERIES.

Double altitude of a
Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of a
Aquilae.

Tim6 of chronometer.

Deg. miri. sec.

A. mm. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

83 15 20

11 49 47

85 36 30

11 57 01

84 38 30

11 53 58

86 26 10

11 59 36

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

A. min. sec.

A.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9 42 53

2

12 12

105 33 27

>

608

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON A FORK OF LODGE POLE CREEK, 5,450 FEET ABOVE THE

GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of latitude , July 13, 1S42 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

80

37

30

11

35

16

80

39

50

11

38

10

80

43

00

11

41

24

Index error = + 15 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg . min. sec .

40 19 12

9 28 50

41 08 34

•

Determination of longitude , July 13, 1842 — altitude of a Jlquilx.

OBSERVATIONS.

X

Double altitude of

a Aquilffi.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

83

36

30

11

46

45

84

21

20

11

49

06

85

05

40

11

51

22

85

41

10

11

53

14

86

34

50

11

56

01

87

12

10

11

58

05

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9 41 47

2 10 38

105 13 38

J —

609

C 174 ]

' ENCAMPMENT ON HORSE CREEK.

Determination of longitude , July 14, 1842 — altitude of a jiquilde.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOXD SERIES.

Double altitude of a

Time of chronometer. ;

Double altitude of a

Time of chronometer.

£ Aquilae.

Aqrfilse.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

71 33 00

11 07 04

73 20 40

11 12 16

' 72 27 30

11 09 39

74 16 50

11 15 01

Index error == -f- 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9 01 29

2 09 31

104 59 23

Determination of latitude, July 14,1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

82

05

30

12

06

09

82

09

30

12

11

09

82

11

30

12

13

57

82

15

30

12

19

16

Time of chronometer.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

»

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

41 04 23

10 03 10

41

40

13

610

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT FORT LARAMIE, 4,470 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE

GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of longitude, July 16, 1S42 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

58

31

20

9

40

21.0

60

12

20

9

44

5?.5

58

58

40

9

41

33.5

60

37

50

9

46

01.0

59

18

30

9

42

29.0

60

49

50

9

46

34.0

59

28

10

9

42

54.0

60

59

20

9

46

59.0

59

45

00

9

43

40.4

61

11

00

9

47

32.5

Thermometer 8 1 0 . 3 .

Index error = -j- 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. m^n. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

4 26 17

2 10 35

105 20 13

Determination of longitude , July 18, 1842 — altitude of a vdquilae.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND !

SERIES.

Double

altitude of a

Time of chronometer.

Double

altitude

of a

Time of chronometer.

Aquilse.

Aquilae.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

79

31

10

11 17

04.5

80

55

40

11

21

29

79

57

00

11 18

25.5

• 81

24

40

11

23

00

80

32

30

11 20

18.0

81

47

20

11

24

10

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

9 10 46

2

09

58

611

C 174 3

ENCAMPMENT AT FORT LARAMIE, 4,470 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE

GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of latitude , July 18, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

82

59

10

11

36

24

83

00

50

11

39

00

83

02

30

11

41

34

83

04

50

11

43

45

83

06

00

11

45

31

Time of chronometer.

Thermometer 63°.

Index error = -f- 25 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

41 30 38

9 31 14

42

12

10

Determination of longitude , July 20, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double

altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of the

1

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s lower limb.

Dig.

, min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

/h.

min.

sec.

40

13

20

8

52

08.0

41

56

40

8

56

51.0

40

41

00

8

53

25.5

42

08

30

8

57

23.6

41

02

55

8

54

25.0

42

20

20 '

8

57

56.0

41

23

30

8

55

21.0

42

33

40

8

58

33.0

41

40

50

8

56

08.0

42

52

20

8

59

25.0

Thermometer 65°.

Index error = -f- 25 sec.

612

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT FORT LARAMIE, 4,470 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE

GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of longitude , July 21, 1S42 — altitude of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOXD

SERIES.

Double altitude of the
lower limb of the sun.

1

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of the
lower limb ot the sun. !

Time of chronometer •

Deg,

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

39

45

20

8

51

23.0

41 24

50

8

55

57.0

40

22

50

8

53

05.5

41 42

10

8

56

44.0

40

36

20

8

53

43.0

41 54

20

8

57

16.4

40

54

10

8

54

32.5

42 07

30

8

57

52.3

41

05

00

8

55

01.0

42 22

40

8

•68

34.3

Thermometer 66°.
Index error = 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

6 46 00

2 09 25

By the chronometric difference, the lunar distance observed at Dried
Meat camp is referred to this place.

613

[ 174 ]

\

ENCAMPMENT ON THE NORTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of longitude , July 23, 1S42 — altitude of a Aquilse.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND !

SERIES.

Double altitude of a

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of a

Time of chronometer.

Aquilae.

Aquilae.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

78

03

30

10

55

54.5

81

35

40

11

07

02.0

79

22

45

11

00

00.0

82

10

00

11

08

52.0

79

48

50

11

01

22.5

82

27

20

11

09

50.5

80

11

25

11

02

36.5

83

07

00

11

11

57.0

80

* 33

•

50

11

03

48.0

Index error = -f- 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

8 53 28

2

11 37

[ 174 ] 614

ENCAMPMENT ON THE NORTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude , July 23, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

84

00

10

11

29

08

84

01

20

11

31

34

84

02

20

11

32

45

84

03

15

11

33

57

84

04

15

11

35

20

84

05

25

11

36

50

84

07

20

11

38

57

84

07

25

11

40

02 .

84

10

00

11

43

04

84

11

50

11

45

44 •

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

42 01 54

9 23 39

42

39

25

Determination of longitude, July 23, 1842 — altitude of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

<•

h.

min.

see.

75

18

40

12

01

08.0

74

51

10

12

02

23.0

74

04

20

12

04

29.5

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min> sec.
9 51 , 01

h. m'n. sec.

2 11 39

615

[ m ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE N. FORK OF PLATTE RIVER— DRIED MEAT CAMP.

Determination of longitude, July 25, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST :

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

1

j Time of chronometer.

i

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

48

24

00

7

16

26.0

46

42

40

7

21

04.4

48

10

50

7

17

01.0

46

27

40

7

21

45.5

47

49

50

7

17

58.5

46

11

50

7

22

27.0

47

24

40

7

19

07.0

45

55

40

7

23

11.6

47

.02

00

7

20

09.0

45

37

45

7

24

02.0

Thermometer 87°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

5 07 44

2 12 35

106 24 09

Determination of latitude, July 25, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

84

18

20

11

12

32

84

19

25

11

15

16

84

20

40

11

16

31

84

21

25

11

17

55

84

23

20

11

20

53

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude .

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

42 09 35

9 02 53

42

51 35

[ 174 ] 616

ENCAMPMENT GN THE N. FORK OF PLATTE RIVER— DRIED MEAT CAMP.
Determination of longitude , July 25, 1842 — altitude oj Arc turns.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitude of Arc-
turus.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of Arc-
turus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

86 16 15

85 41 25

85 16 40

1

h. min. sec.

11 23 43’

11 25 21

11 26 31

Deg. min. sec .

84 49 30

84 13 40

83 26 50

h. min. sec.

11 27 46

11 29 27

11 31 37

Thermometer 72°. 5.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

9 14 48

2 12 36

Determination of longitude , July 25, 1842 — distance from the second
limb of the moon to Jupiter .

OBSERVATIONS.

Time of chronometer.

h.

min.

sec.

11

45

04

11

47

20

11

49

32

11

50

55

11

52

18

Apparent distance.

Deg.

min.

sec.

58

33

50

58

34

50

58

36

30

58

37

40

58

38

25

\ *

Index error = 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True distance.

Mean time at Greenwich.

. Longitude of the place.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

58 04 42

16 42 11

106 26 11

\

617

[ W4 3

ENCAMPMENT ON THE NORTH FORK OF THE PLATTE RIVER, MOUTH OF

DEER CREEK.

Determination of latitude , July 26, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris. Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

84

22 •

40

11

14

27

84

25

00

11

15

36

84

27

10

11

19

06

84

27

00

11

20

10

84

29

00

11

22

11

84

30

10

11

23

57

84

32

50

11

28

06

84

34

20

11

29

33

84

34

50

11

30

39

84

37

00

11

33

32

Index error = -4- 15 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

*

Latitude.

Deg . min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec .

42 14 16

9

10 02

42

52

24

40

618

l 3

ENCAMPMENT ON THE NORTH FORK OF THE PLATTE RIVER, MOUTH OF

DEER CREEK.

Determination of longitude , July 26, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the lower limb of the sun.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

46

47

45

7

21

03.0

46

31

40

7

21

45.5

Interrupted by clouds.

Interrupted by clouds.

45

37

15

7

24

14.5

45

22

10

7

24

56.6

45

01

10

7

25

54.0

44-

37

30

7

27

00.0

Thermometer 83°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

5

09 54

2

13 33

106 43 15

Determination of longitude , July 26, 1S42 — altitude of Jirc turns.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOJTD

SERIES.

' Double altitude of

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of

Time of chronometer.

Arcturus.

Arcturus.

Deg.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

80

29 50

11

36

47

79

13

30

11

40

16.5

79

59 10

11

38

12

78

52

00

11

41

17.0

79

34 25

11

39

20

78

32

30

11

42

11.0

Thermometer 71°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

A. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

9 26 06

2 13 34

619

r 1^4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE NORTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER, UPPER CACHE

CAMP.

Determination of longitude, July 28, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

Doable altitude of the
lower limb of the sun.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of the
lower limb of the sun.

Time of chronometer

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

min.

sec .

45

12

55

7

25

21.5

43

46

20

29

17.7

44

56

10

7

26

05.0

43

35

25

7

29

48.0

44

45

35

7

26

36.2

43

17

15

7

30

37.0

44

30

20

7

27

17 5

43

05

05

7

31

11.0

44

15

20

7

27

58.6

42

51

40

7

31

41.7

SECOND SERIES.

Thermometer 80°. 5.

Index error = -f- 12 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

j

|

Longitude.

k.

min. sec.

h. min

<

sec.

Deg. min. sec.

5

13 27

2 15

09

107 15 55

Determination of latitude , July 2S, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double

altitude

of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

84

31

30

11

24

10

84

32

45

11

25

45

84

35

10

11

27

55

84

35

30

11

29

12

84

36

35

11

30

34

84

38

10

11

31

50

84

39

55

11

33

25

84

40

00

11

34

43

84

40

25

11

35

55

84

42

15

11

37

24

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

42 17 54

9 15 59

42 50

53

620

[ ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE NORTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude , July 29, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

83

53

40

11

05

00

83

57

10

11

07

47

83

57

30

11

09

10

83

59

45

11

12

14

84

00

40

11

14

16

84

03

00

11

16

00 **

84

04

10

11

18

21

84

05

00

11

20

05

84

06

40

11

21

42

84

08

10

11

23

05

Thermometer 60°.
Index error — -f- 12 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

42 00 01

3 58 58

42

38

01

621

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE NORTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of longitude, July 29, 1S42 — altitude of a Aquilas.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a Aquilae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

81

29

00

10

47

19.0

82

04

50

10

49

11.0

82

35

30

10

50

50.5

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

8

33 13

2

15 54

107 29

06

Determination of longitude , July 29, 1842 — altitude of %drcturus .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

91

57

20

10

55

42.0

91

17

50

10

57

33.7

90

44

10

10

59

05.0

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

k. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

8 4L 30

2 15 57

[ 174 ]

622

GOAT ISLAND, &c

Favorable weather enabled us to observe here an occultation of * Arietis,
which occurred at the moon’s bright limb* at Oh. 05' 40" of the 31st of
July, (civil time.) In order that it might be calculated with the advantage
of correspondent observations, and die correction of the errors of the tables,
the observation was sent to Mr. S. C. Walker, at Philadelphia. The fol-
lowing is the result from Mr. Walker’s computation, without any correc-
tion for errors of the tables.

July 30, 1842 — astronomical time.

t d' a b c

t A ( A

Im. * Arietis 12//. 5' 40" — - 7 h. 10' 32".0i + 1.896 -f 1.611 + 2.488.

By the estimated difference of longitude, thirty-two seconds, (32",) the
lunar distance observed at the mouth of the Sweet Water on the 23d of
August, is referred to this place, for the longitude of which we have
adopted the mean from chronometer, lunar distance, and occultation, re-
sulting as follows:

Longitude of Goat island, by lunar distance

.

h.

— 7

min.

10

sec.

07.91

Longitude of Goat island, by chronometer

-

— 7

10

51.66

Longitude of Goat island, by occultation

-

= 7

10

32.01

Mean longitude of Goat island

-

= 7

10

30.53

Some of the observations made at this place were lost in the accident in
the Platte river on the 24th of August.

623

C 174 3

ENCAMPMENT ON GOAT ISLAND, N. FORK OF THE PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude, July 30. 1842 — altitude of the sun in the

meridian.

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

,

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min . sec.

Deg. min. sec.

131 22 30

65 56 52

42 33 27

Index error

12 sec.

Determination of longitude , July 31, 1S42 — altitude of a Jiquilx.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a Aquilse.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

99 51 50

3 01 02

99 09 30

3 04 02

98 45 50

3 05 42

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

//. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

0 46 59

2

16 36

Determination of longitude, July 31, 1842 — altitude of a Aurigse.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a Aurigre.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. rain. sec.

48 38 20

4 13 40

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

1 57 09

2 16 31

624

[ 174 ]

JAMPME

Determination of latitude , August 1, 1842 — altitude of Polaris .

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SWEET WATER RIVER, ONE MILE BELOW ROCK

INDEPENDENCE.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

•

84

04

20

11

29

33

84

05

50

11

31

12

84

05

00

11

32

15

84

07

50

11

33

42

84

09

00

. 11

35

20

84

10

00

11

36

37

84

11

40

11

38

18

84

13

00

11

39

38

84

13

10

11

40

48

84

14

00

11

42

14

*

Thermometer 47°.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

42 03 54

9 18 40

42 29 56

Index error =

12 sec.

Determination of longitude , August 1, 1842 — altitude of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

Double altitude of Arc-
turus.

Time of chronometer, j

|

•

Double altitude of Arc-
turus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

66

41

00

11

54

55.0

64

00

00

12

02

10.0

66

16

20

11

56

03.0

63

22

50

12

03

52.0

65

50

30

11

57

10.0

62

46

30

12

05

29.6

65

24

,10

11

58

19.5

62

14

10

12

06

57.0

64

49

20

11

59

55.5

61

48

50

12

08

06.0

SECOND SERIES.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min.

sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

9 44

00

2

17 18

107 55

00

625

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SWEET WATER RIVER.

Determination of latitude , August 5, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

* OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

88

00

30

5

18

55

88

03

20

5

22

15

88

02

00

5

23

39

88

02

40

5

26

01

88

03

30

5

27

32

Thermometer 57°.
Index error = -f- 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

#

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

44 00 35

3 02 49

42 32 31

Determination of longitude , August 5, 1842 — altitude of a Lyrse .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

67

38

30

5

04

26.0

66

58

40

5

06

21.5

66

35

30

5

07

32.0

Sky very misty. — Observation indifferent.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

2 45 14

2 20 53

[ »74 ]

626

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SWEET WATER RIVER.
Determination of longitude, August 7, 1842 — altitude of Arc tur us.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Arcturus.

Time of chrohometer.

D*g. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

51 46 20

12 18 02

50 42 '30

12 20 56

49 54 30

12 23 04

Index error =4-25 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9 57 01

2 23 39

109 51 29

Determination of latitude, August 1, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

84 59 25

12 30 38

85 00 00

12 32 19

85 01 • 20

12 33 25

85 02 30'

12 34 57

85 03 20

12 36 21

85 05 00

12 37 48

Thermometer 36°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

42 30 18

10 11 25

42 27 15

627

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON LITTLE SANDY CREEK.

Determination of longitude , August 8, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

•

FIRST SERIES.

1

SECOND

SERIES.

•

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

'• ..

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

—

min .

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

44

51

50

7

24

45.5

43

29

30

7

28

26.5

44

33

00

7

25

34.0

43

16

50

7

29

02.0

44

16

50

7

26

18.0

43

06

30

7

29

29.4

44

04

00

7

26

53.5

42

52

25

7

30

06.5

43

50

50

7

27

29.0

42

38

10

7

30

47.0

Thermometer 63°.

Index error = + 25 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

t

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. see.

h . min. sec.

Deg. min . sec.

5

03 23

2 24 30

110 07 46

Determination of longitude , August 8, 1842 — altitude of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude of Arc-

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of Arc-

Time of chronometer.

turns.

turns.

Deg. min.

sec.

1

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

rain. sec.

77 19

05

11

05

38

75

21

30

11

11 03

76 39

40

11

07

31

75

00

40

11

11 58

76 09

30

11

08

49

74

39

25

11

12 53

Thermometer 45°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

•

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

8

45 07

2

24

31

[ ^ ]

628

ENCAMPMENT ON LITTLE SANDY CREEK.

Delermmation of latitude , August S, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

•

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

83

38

40

10

41

26

83

41

20

10

44

41

/

83

42

30

10

47

10

83

45

20

10

49

48

83

46

00

10

51

16

83

48

30

10

54

33

83

50

20

10

56

14

83

50

40

10

58

08

83

52

20

10

59

51

83

53

25

11

01

08

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

41 52

50

8 27 54

42

27

34

629

[ W4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE- FIRST NEW FORK.

Determination of latitude , August 9, 1842 — altitude of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

84

32

30

11

10

13

84

34

40

11

12

19

84

35

30

11

13

45

84

35

50

11

14

57

84

37

30

11

16

13

84

38

00

• 11

17

22

84

39

10

11

19

00

84

40

00

11

20

34

84

40

50

11

21

53

84

42

30

11

23

29

Index error = -f- 25 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

' True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg.

min. sec .

h. min. sec.

Deg.

/

min .

sec.

42

18 12

8 51 00

42

42

46

Determination of longitude , August 9, 1842 — altitude of Arcturus ,

OBSERVATIONS.

tthst

SERIES.

•

SECOND 1

SERIES.

Double altitude of Arc-
turus.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of Arc-
turus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec .

68

33

40

11

26

37

66

37

35

11

31

54.0

68

02

25

11

28

04

65

56

15

11

33

48.0

67

27

00

11

29

41

65

14

00

11

35

40.5

Thermometer 44°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min . sec .

9 05 15

2 25 42

110 29 17

630

[ M4 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT MOUNTAIN LAKE, 7,200 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF
. THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of latitude , August 10, 1842 — altitude of Pelaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

84 55 20

11 15 55

84 55 50

11 17 00

84 57 30

11 18, 28

84 58 00

11 19 56

Index error = — 12 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg.

min . sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg .

min.

sec.

42

27 25

8 51 42

42

50

08

\

631

C 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT MOUNTAIN LAKE, 7,200 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF

THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of latitude, August 11, 1842 — altitude of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris,

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

k . min. sec.

84 43 20

10 56 56

84 44 20

10 68 32 • •

84 46 10

11 00 33

84 46 30

11 01 38

84 48 30

11 03 37

84 49 30

11 04 43

84 49 50

11 05 52

84 51 50

11 07 01

84 52 00

11 08 29

84 52 60

11 09 24

Thermometer 54°.

Index error =~ — 12 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

/

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

42 23 19

8

37 54

42 49 55

632

[ W4 1

ENCAMPMENT AT MOUNTAIN LAKE, 7,200 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF

THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of longitude , August 11, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

/

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

lower limb of the sun.

lower limb of the sun.

1 •

•

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

44

04

00

9

36

16.5

45

23

00

9‘

39

53.0

44

15

30

9

36

47.6

45

33

10

9

40

20.4

44

30

15

9

37

28.0

45

42

40

9

40

46.0

44

46

30

9

38

12.3

.45

51

15

9

41

09.0

45

00

40

9

38

51.0

46

03

45

9

41

43.3

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

7 13 19

2 25 49

110 37 25

During my absence from this place, and between the 12th and 16th, the
chronometer stopped.

633

C 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT MOUNTAIN LAKE, 7,200 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF
THE GULF OF MEXICO

Determination of longitude, August 17, 1842 — altitude of the sun

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SF.RTES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double

altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

40

02

15

5

54

48.0

41

46

50

5

59

31.4

40

20

00

5

55

36.3

42

01

20

6

00

12.0

40

35

15

5

56

17.0

42

18

05

6

00

57.7

40

48

35

5

56

54.0

42

38

20

6

01

53.0

41

17

20

5

58

10.5

i 42

50

15

6

02

26.3

Thermometer 61°.

Index error = — 32 sec _

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

!

Retard-

Longitude.

'August, 17, 1S42 — altitude of the sun in the meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

Des* min, sec.

Deg. min. sec

Deg. min. sec.

120 38 15

60 34 22

42 49 24

41

r *74 ] 634

*

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SWEET WATER RIVER.
Determination of latitude , August 19, 1642 — altitude of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg-

min.

SfC.

83

55

30

83

56

50

83

58

20

84

00

00

81

02

10

k.

min.

sec.

6

54

33

6

56

06

6

58

02

7

00

09

7

03

23

Index error - — 36 sec.

RESULT OP CALCULATION.

.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

1

Deg. rain. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

41 58 07

8 12 41

42 22 22

Determination of time , Avgust 19, 1842— altitude of dire turns.

OBSERVATIONS.

FillST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

1 )ouhle altitude of Arc-
turus.

I

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of Arc-
turus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. - min. sec.

h. min. see.

1 Deg. tain. sec.

h. min. sec.

66 51 ' 10

7 12 03.5

64 15 10

7 19 03.0

65 33 35

7 15 30.0

63 39 25

7 20 37.5

65 01 40

7 16 57.5

63 15 50

1 .

7 21 41.0

RESULT OP CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

■ .*

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

8 32 05

1

14 26

[ *74 3

035

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SWEET WATER RIVER.
Determination of time, August 20, 1842 — altitude of Arctarus.

OBSERVATIONS.

EIRST SERIES.

Doable

altitude of Arc-
turus.

Time

of chronometer.

Den;.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

53

58

00

7

40

46.0

52

19

20

7

45

13.0

51

17

40

7

47

59.0

50

36

30

7

49

51.5

49

53

40

! 7

51

57.0

SECOND S

SHIES.

Double altitude of Arc -

turns-

|

Time

of chronometer-

Deg.

min.

sec.

h,

. min -

sec.

48

59

20

7

54

is., a

48

28

50

7

55

38.5

47

47

00

7

57

34.0

47

17

30

7

58

52.6

46

08

40

8

02

02.0

I

Index error — 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

h. m>n. sec.

9 09 02

h.

I

Retard.

min.

16

sec.

88

Longitude.

Determination of latitude, August 20, 1842 — altitude of Polaris

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of

Deg. min. sec.

85 26 00

85 26 30

85 27 55

85 31 40

85 32 00

85 33 55

85 34 40

85 36 15

85 37 30

85 38 50

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec-

42 45

05

9 43 02

42 31

46

►laris.

Time of chronometer.

h.

min.

sec.

8

17

06

8

18

52

8

20

47

8

24

56

8

26

32

8

27

50

.

8

29

18

8

31

19

8

32

44

8

34

39

C 174 ]

636

ENCAMPMENT ON THE BIG BLUE KIVER.

Determination of longitude, June 21, 1842 — altitude of the sun,

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitude of the
lower limb of the sun.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of the
lower limb of the sun.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.-

sec.

| h.

min.

sec.

42

09

40

8

20

15.0

43

44

30

8

24

29.5

42

36

40

8

21

27.0

43

58

00

8

25

03.3

42

51

10

8

22

04.5

44

12

45

8

25

44.3

42

08

40 *

8

22

54.0

44

29

10

8

26

27.0

43

26

30

8

23

40.0

44

46

oo

8

1

27

12.0

Index error = — 42 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min . sec.

6 40 27

1 43 28

97 06 58

NOON HALT ON THE SWEET WATER RIVER.

Determination of latitude, August 22? 1842 — altitude of the sun in the

meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

•

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

Deg. min. sec.

118 08 05

59 19

10

42 26 16

Index error = — 40 sec.

637

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SWEET WATER RIVER, AT ROCK INDEPENDENCE.
Determination of latitude , August 22, 1842 — altitude of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h:

min.

sec.

84

19

30

6

47

37

84

20

50

6

50

15

84

22

10

6

51

37

84

23

30

6

52

50

84

24

15

6

54

40

84

25

40

6

56

34

i J *

84

27

45

6

57

49

84

28

40

6

59

15

84

29

10

7

00

24

84

30

10

7

01

41

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

•

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

'Deg.

42 11 30

8 16 33

42

Latitude.

min. sec.
29 36

638

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE SWEET WATER RIVER, AT ROCK INDEPENDENCE.
Determination of time , August 22, 1842 — altitude of Arc turus .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

second

SERIES.

Double altitude of Arc*
turus.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of
Arcturus.

Time

of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

61

32

50

7

07

42.0

58

06

10

7

17

00.0

60

58

25

7

09

14.6

57

22

00

7

18

59.5

60

28

20

7

10

35.0

56

48

50

1 7

20

30.0

59

45

50

7

12

30.5

55

47

40

7

23

15.0

59

17

00

7

13

49.5

55

18

30

7

24

34.3

Index error = — 22 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

•

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

8 37 06

1 21 17

Determination of time , August 23, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

lower limb of the sun.

lower limb of the sun.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

32

18

35

5

28

06.0

33

35

50

5

31

36.0

32

34

10

5

28

48.7

33

48

35

5

32

10.0

32

40

30

5

29

33.0

33

58

25

5

32

37.0

33

00

30

5

30

00 0

34

08

30

5

33

05.0

33

15

20

5

30

40.0

34

35

30

5

34

18.5

639

[ «74 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE NORTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER, MOUTH OF SWEET

WATER RIVER.

Determination of time , August 23, 1842 — altitude of the sun .

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

Double

altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

44

21

05

3

19

43.0

43

55

50

3

20

51.5

43

43

30

3

21

23.3

43

30

50

3

21

58.5

43

17

30

3

22

35.0

s>:ro>'n SERIES.

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

1 leg. min. sec.

43 01 30

42 52 10

42 39 55

42 27 30

42 13 50

Time of chronometer.

h. min. sec.

23

23

24

24

25

17.4

43.4

17.5

50.3

27.4

Index error = — 22 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Retard.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

4 45 24

1 22 35

Determination of latitude , August 23, 1842

OBSERVATIONS.

— altitude of Polaris .

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

84 20 00

6 49 55

84 21 30

6 52 20

84 22 15

6 53 04

84 24 20

6 55 14

84 25 20

6 56 32

84 26 30

6 57 56

84 28 10

6 59 28

84 28 25

7 00 59

84 30 20

7 02 29

84 31 10

7 04 13

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. see.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

* 42 12 50

8 22 08

i

42 27 18

610

[ 174 ] •

ENCAMPMENT ON THE NORTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER. MOUTH OT SWEET

WATER RIVER.

Determination of longitude, August 23, 1842 — distance from the second
limb of the moon to Jupiter . ( With the circle .)

OBSERVATIONS.

Time of chronometer.

Apparent distance.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

7 43 17

7 52 54

7 56 33

8 01 58

8 05 43

*

8 11 25

8 14 35

8 20 50

8 24 22

8 29 20

816 59 10

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True distance.

f

Mean time at Greenwich.

Longitude.

Deg.

min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec .

81

10 38

16 41 21

107 40 00

NOON HALT ON HORSESHOE CREEK.

\ *

Determination of latitude, August 30, 1842 — altitude of the sun in the

meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the sun’s
lower limb.

True central altitude.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

112 38 35

I

1

56 33 57

42

24

24

Index error = — 1 min. 30 sec.

641

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE N. FORK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude , September 4, 1842 — altitude of a Squilx in

the meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a Aquilse.

True altitude.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

113 08 30

Deg. min. sec.

56 32 56

Deg. min. sec.

41 54 38

Index errer = — 1 min. 30 sec.

ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIGHT BANK OF THE N. FORK OF PLATTE RIVER,
FIVE MILES ABOVE CHIMNEY ROCK.

Determination of latitude , September 5 , 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg .

min.

sec.

%

h.

min.

sec.

84

12

00

11

07

03

84

14

50

11

10

43

84

17

20

11

12

55

84

18

50

11

16

39

84

21

50

11

20

50

Index error = — 1 min. 30 sec.

September 5, 1S42 — altitude of a Jlquilae in the meridian .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a Aquil®.

True central altitude.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

113 30 40

56 44 00

41 43 36

642

[ 1^4 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE RIGHT BANK OF THE N. FORK OF PLATTE RIVER,

MOUTH OF ASH CREEK.

Determination of latitude , September S> 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time

of chronometer.

i
| q

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

83

42

00

11

16

29

83

41

10

11

18

59

83

44

50

11

21

07

83

45

30

11

23

20

83

46

50

11

24

57

83

48.

10

11

26

56

83

49

50

11

28

30

83

50

00

11

30

11

83

51

40

11

31

41

83

53

40

11

33

28

Thermometer 70°. 3.

Index error = — 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

. — -t

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

41 50 57

9 19 51

41 18 19

September 8, 1842 — altitude of a Aquilx in the meridian .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a Aquilse.

True central altitude.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

D g. min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

114 25 10

57 11 15

41

16 19

643 £ 1 « 4 J

ENCAMPMENT ON THE NORTH FORK OF PLATTE RIVER— LOWER CACHE

CAMP.

Determination of latitude, September 9, 1842 — altitude of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

83

36

55

83

38

10

83

40

20

83

43

20

83

46

25

Time of chronometer.

h.

min.

sec.

11

13

52

11

16

39

11

20

01

11

23

13

11

27

33

Index error = — 1 min. 32 sec.
RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

41 48 40

9

17 42

41

14 44

September 9, 1842 — altitude of the sun in the meridian .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg . min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

107 36 00

54 02 37

41

14

17

' Thermometer 94° ,

644

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE JUNCTION OF THE NORTH AND SOUTH FORKS OF
THE PLATTE, 2,700 FEET ABOVE THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of latitude, September 12, 1842 — altitude of a Jiquilst in

the meridian .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a

Aquilse.

True central altitude.

Latitude.

Deg / min.

sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

114 48

50

57 23 09

41

04 26

Index error = — 1 min. 20 sec.

Determination of latitude , September 13, 1842 — altitude of the sun in

the meridian.

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

104 51 25

52 40 22

41 05 07

Thermometer 70°.

645

[ 1^4 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT THE JUNCTION OF THE NORTH AND SOUTH FORKS OF
THE PLATTE, 2,700 FEET ABOVE THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of latitude, September 13, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the lower limb of the sun.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

104

42

20

1

46

17 *

. 104

45

25

1

48

16

104

49

00

1

51

13

104

50

10

1

53

22

104

50

35

1

54

40

104

51

25

1

56

37

104

51

10

1

58

49

104

50

20

1

59

35

104

49

45

2

01

03

104

48

20

2

02

35

104

47

28

2

03

17

104

45

00

2

05

16

104

43

50

2

06

02

104

43

05

2

06

50

104

41

45

2

07

29

Determination of time , September 14, 1842 — altitude of the sun-

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double

sun’s

altitude of the
lower limb.

Time of chronometer, j

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

j Time of chronometer

1

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min . sec.

i

i h. min.

sec.

37

23

10

6

26

22.5

36

11 20

6 29

40 4

37

04

10

6

27

14.3

35

57 05

6 30

18.5

36

50

30

6

27

53.5

35

43 40

6 30

56.0

36

36

40

6

28

30.5

36

22

30

6

29

08.3

Interrupted ( by clouds,
i

Thermometer 60°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h . min. sec.

h. min. sec.

4 28 40

2 00 24

[ 174 ]

«46

NOON HALT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE PLATTE.

Determination of latitude , September 1 6, 1 8-12 — altitude of the sun in the

meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double

altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

Deg.

min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

102

54 15

51

41

44

40

61

31 *

Index error = — 1 min. 17 sec.

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude, September 16. 18-12 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

83 •

08

10

11

04

35

83

10

40

11

07

41

83

12

25

11

10

44

83

14

35

11

12

50

83

15

40

11

14

41

83

17

15

11

16

21

83

17

30

11

18

01

83

19

40

11

20

26

83

21

40

11

21

07 j

83

23

35

11

26

38

Index error = —

- 1 min. 17 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

1

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg.

min. sec .

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min.

41

36 23

9 16 55

40

52

sec

34

647

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.
Determination of longitude , September 16, 1842 — altitude of Arcturw.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

)ouble altitude of Arc-

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of Arc-

Time of chronometer.

turus.

*

turus.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

50

59

40

9

17

24.5 i

46

55

50

9

28

12.2

49

08

40

9

22

18.3

46

02

15

9

30

35 0

47

57

40

9

25

20.5

45

1

10

20

9

32

51.5

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h.

min.

sec.

i

7 27 27

1

58

41

t

648

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of longitude , September 16, 1842 — distance from the first
limb of the moon to Jupiter.

OBSERVATIONS.

(With the circle.)

Time of chronometer.

Apparent distance.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg. min. sec.

9

36

57

9

42

24

9

46

36

9

52

19

9

58

51

10

03

40

\

10

06

44

10

10

21

10

14

28

10

18

19

\

10

21

57

10

25

49

10

28

13

10

30

18

10

33

56

IP

35

45

|

10

37

54

10

40

25

10

42

37

10

45

11

837 45 50

1

Thermometer 55°. 5.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True distance.

Mean time at Greenwich.

Longitude.

Deg. min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

42 07

42

14 56 30

100 23 45

619

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of time, September 17, 1S42 — altitvjde of Jlrcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SKRIKS.

j

SECOXD SERIES.

Double altitude of A re-
turns.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of Arc-
turus.

Time of chronometer.

Beg.

min .

sec.

h .

min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec. i

| h, min .

sec.

37

10

40

9

48 56 0

34

02

15

9 57

23.7

35

28

45

9

53 30.5

| 33

08

50

9 59

46 0

34

48

45

9

55 15.0

| 32

25

20

! 10 01

44.0

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h.

min. sec .

h.

min- sec.

7

58 41

1

57 25

Determination of latitude, September 17, 1812 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS,

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Drg.

min .

sec.

k.

min.

sec.

82

14

00

10

14

36

82

16

10

10

16

37

82

17

40

10

19

35

82

19

50

10

21

55

82

21

45

10

25

12

82

24

45

10

27

50

82

27

25

10

31

48

82

30

00

10

34

51

82

34

50

30

40

50

82

39

50

10

47

44

Thermometer 55°.

Index error = — 1 min. 18 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Dg. m'n . sec .

h. min .

sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

41 10 36

8 30

41

40 42

3S

4*

650

[ 174 3

NOON HALT OF SEPTEMBER 18, ON THE LEFT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude, September 18, 1848 -altitude of the sun in

the meridian .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the sun’s
lower limb.

True central altitude.

Latitude.

Deo-. min. sec.

KH 49 50

Beg. min. sec.

51 09 29

Deg. min. sec.

40 40 21

t

•

Index error = — 1 min. 32 sec.

Thermometer 90°.

NOON HALT OF SEPTEMBER 19, ON THE LEFT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude, September 19, 1848 -altitude of the sun in

the meridian*

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the sun’s
lower limb.

True central altitude.

Latitude.

Beg. min. sec.

101 04 30

Beg. min.
50 46

see.

49

Deg.

40

min. sec .
39 44

- — ;

Index error = — 1

min. 32 sec.

Thermometer 80°.

NOON HALT OF SEPTEMBER 20, ON THE LEFT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude, September 20, 1842 —altitude of the sun in

the meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the sun’s
lower limb.

True central altitude.

Latitude-

Beg. min. see.

100 00 45

Deg. min . see.

50 14 56

Deg. min. see.

40 48 19

*

Index error — 1 min. 32 sec.

Thermometer 77ar

#

651

[ 174 1

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF PLATTE RIVER.
Determination of time , September 20, 1S42 — altitude of Arcturus.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Arcturus.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min.

sec.

48

29

50

9 04

31

Index error = -

- 1 min. 32 see.

Determination of latitude,, September 20, 1842 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

82

05

10

9

19

49

82

08

20

9

24

02

82

15

15

9

31

51

82

17

50

9

36

39

82

20

40

9

39

35

Thermometer 56°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min , sec.

41 04 54

7 35 23

-

40 54 02

652

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF PLATTE BIVER, TEN MILES BELOW

GRAND ISLAND.

Deter mi nation of time, September 21, 1842 — altitude of Arcturus .

OBSERVATIONS.

FI It ST !

SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

1

Double altitude of Arc-
turus.

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of Arc-
turus.

1

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

60

03

55

8

55 09.5

• 47

05

25

9 03 03.7

49

15

30

3

57 16 7

46

16

65

9 05 J5.0

48

01

50

9

00 34.0

45

36

50

9 07 01.0

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

Deg. min. sec.

7 07 54

h. min. sec.

1 53 29

» *

Determination of latitude, September 21, 1S42 — altitude of Polaris.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

82

25

50

9

10

56

82

27

45

9

12

51

82

29

20

9

15

43

82

31

40

9

18

07

82

34

00

9

20

53

82

35

15

9

22

30

82

37

45

9

24

15

82

37

40

9

25

47

82

40

00

9

28

13

82

41

00

9

30

09

Thermometer 51°.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.
41 15 11

h. min. sec.

7 27 51

Deg.

41

min. sec.
05 38

653

[ 174 ]

NOON HALT AT THE MOUTH OF A SMALL CREEK ON THE LEFT BANK OF

THE PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude. September 23, 1S42 — altitude of the sun in

the meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

De^. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

96 37 05

48 33 04

1

41 20 20

Index error = — 1 min. 32 sec-
Thermometer 80°.

»

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE PLATTE RIVER, NEAR THE

LOUP FORK.

Determination of latitude , September 23, 1842 — altitude of a Jlquilde in

the meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a

Aquilae.

True altitude.

Latitude.

Deg.

min.

sec.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

114

12

10

57 04 43

41 22 52

i

Index error = — 1 min. 32 sec.

654

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE PLATTE RIVER, AT THE
MOUTH OF THE LOUP FORK.

Determination of time , September 26, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer, j

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

40

12

50

I 9

38

24.6 1

42

01

45

9

43

39.7

40

27

25

! 9

39

08.0

| 42

12

50

9

44

10.0

40

38

35

l 9

39

40.2 ]

| 42

26

10

9

44

49.0

40

52

25

9

40

19.5 |

42

36

55

9

45

20.0

41

04

00

1 9

40

52.8

.42

49

25

9

45

56.0

Index error = — 1 min. 32 sec.
Thermometer 73°.
Observation indifferent.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

7 50 14

1 52 00

\

t

655

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE PLATTE RIVER, AT THE
MOUTH OF THE LOUP FORK.

Determination of latitude , September 26, 1842 — altitude of the sun

near the meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

93 58 45

1 29 17

94 00 30

1 30 13

94 01 45

1 30 43

94 02 15

1 31 17

94 04 00

| 1 32 04

Interrupted.

Interrupted.

94 08 30

1 35 58

94 10 00

1 37 19

94 11 55

1 39 34

94 12 35

1 40 49

Interrupted.

Interrupted.

94 09 25

1 48 38

94 06 25

1 51 39

94 05 50

1 52 22

Thermometer 81°.

Index error = — 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Advance.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec .

h. min. sec.

Deg. min . sec.

47 20 48

1 51 56

41 22 03

[ 174 ] t>56

NOON HALT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude. September 2S, 1842 — altitude of the sun in

the meridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the lower limb of the sun.

Time of chronometer.

Dee.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec .

92

42

30

1

29

09

92

45

45

1

31

33

92

47

50

1

33

42

92

49

00

1

35

35

92

49

20

1

36

55

92

50

10

1

38

50

92

49

25

1

41

29

92

48

45

1

42

32

92

48

15

1

43

33

92

47

20

1

45

10

92

46

10

1

46

18

92

44

35

1

47

51

92

41

20

I

49

51

Thermometer 76°.

Index error = — 1 min. 32 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude,

657

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE PLATTE RIVER, AT THE
MOUTH OF ELK HORN RIVER.

Determination of latitude, September 28, 1842 — altitude of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

A.

min.

sec.

84

05

25

10

41

47

84

07

30

10

44

02

*

84

09

20

10

46

57

84

10

40

10

48

45

84

09

50

10

50

24

84

11

15

10

52

29

84

12

55

10

54

23

84

16

20

10

57

08

84

15

55

10

58

53

84

15

55

11

00

37

Thermometer 54°.

Index error = — 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

A. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

42 04 23

9 02 17

41 09 34

G5S

E 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE PLATTE RIVER, AT THE
MOUTH OF ELK HORN RIVER.

Determination of time , September 28, 1842 — altitude of a Lyrae.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of a Lyrae.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

99

10

20

11

24

36.0

98

32

10

11

26

23.7

97

48

?0

11

28

23.0

96

52

40

11

30

58.0

96

09

30

11

32

56.0

Thermometer 54°.

Index error = — 40 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

k. min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

9 39 25

1

49 15

659

[ *74 3

\

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE PLATTE RIVER.
Determination of latitude , September 29, 1842 — altitude of Polaris* §

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometerf

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

83 40 30

10 21 37

83 42 35

10 24 20

83 44 10

10 26 37

83 45 05

10 28 46

83 46 00

10 30 51

83 48 20

10 33 19

83 50 40

10 . 35 24

83 52 45

10 39 41

83 53 50

10 41 22

83 54 40

10 43 18

*" * V '

Thermometer 40°.

Indev error = — 1 min. 38 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

*

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

41 52 05

8 43 56

41 02 15

[ 174 ] G60

ENCAMPMENT AT BELLEVUE, OV THE RIGHT BANK OF THE MISSOURI
RIVER, AT THE TRADING POST OF THE AMERICAN FUR COMPANY.

Determination of longitude, October 2 , 1S42 — altitude of the nun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SCRIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double

altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

Double

altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s .lower limb.

sun’s

1

lower limb.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min

sec.

48

29

45

10

07

07.5 !

49

42

25

10

10

49.8

48

48

20

10

08

04.0 ;

49

52

00

10

11

18.6

49

09

10

10

09

06.6 j

50

05

00

10

12

00.4

49

.20

50

10

09

42.8 1

50

15

05

10

12

30.4

49

30

10

10

1

10

10.5

50

24

55

10

13

00.0

Index error = — 1 min. 38 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. mm. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

8 21 41.5

1 48 41.6

95 47 46

Determination of latitude , October 2, 1842- — altitude of the sun in the

meridian .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the lower limb of the sun.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

89

58

10

1

32

56

89

58

55

l

33

35

89

59

20

1

34

20

90

00

05

1

36

07

89

59

55

1

36

55

89

59

45

1

38

31

89

59

40

1

39

32

89

59

10

1

40

27

89

59

10

1

41

17

89

58

25

1

42

26

89

57

30

1

43

21

89

55

20

1

45

52

Time of chronometer.

661

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT BELLEVUE, ON THE RIGHT BANK OF THE MISSOURI
RIVER, AT THE TRADING POST OF THE AMERICAN FUR COMPANY.

Determination of longitude, October 3, 1S42 — altitude of the sun.

FIRST SERIES.

i

|

SECOND SERIES.

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

| 1

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of the
sun’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

Leg.

min.

sec

h.

min.

sec.

Peg.

mill.

sec.

h.

min.

sec .

39

49

00

5

33

13.0

38

31

55

5

36

53 0

39

29

40

5

34

12 3 !

38

23

20

5

37

25.8

39

07

20

5

35

1(5.2

33

10

00

5

38

03.8

38

56

30

5

35

48.3

37

57

35

5

38

40.0

38

45

50

5

36

19.0 j

37

46

10

5

39

13.7

Index error = — 1 min. 38 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance

Longitude.

A. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

3 46 52

3 49 38.5

Determination of longitude, October 4, IS 12 — altitude of the sun

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude of the

Time of chronometer.

9

Double altitude of the

Time of chronometer.

sun’s lower limb.

sun’s lower

limb.

jp

*5

min.

sec.

h.

min .

sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

h .

min.

sec.

48

ri

10

10

10

20.0

49 16

50

10

13

42.0

48

28

30

10

11

14.0

49 23

45

10

14

04.4

48

42

50

10

11

57.3

49 30

30

10

14

22.6

49

00

10

10

32

51.0

49 37

00

10

14

46.0

49

09

05

10

13

19.0

49 45

05

10

15

11.0

Index error = — - 1 min. 35 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

h. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

D g. min. sec.

8 23 17.6

1 49 53.2

95 47 46

662

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT AT BELLEVUE, ON THE RIGHT BANK OF THE MISSOURI
RIVER, AT THE TRADING POST OF THE AMERICAN FUR COMPANY.

Determination of latitude , October 4, 1842 — sun’s altitude in the me-
ridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Doable altitude of the sun

’s lower limb.

Time of chronometer.

De%.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

88

20

10

1

28

21

88

25

30

1

33

23

88

25

50

1

34

14

88

26

45

1

35

27

S8

26

45

1

38

10

88

27

25

1

40

08

88

26

40

1

41

47

88

26

00

1

42

23

88

25

45

1 '

43

06

88

24

25

1

44

59

88

22

40

1

46

28

88

21

40

1

47

21

88

19

30

1

48

44

RESULT OP CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

•

663

C 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF MISSOURI RIVER, OPPOSITE TO THE
RIGHT BANK OF THE MOUTH OF THE PLATTE RIVER.

Determination of latitude , October 4, 1842 — altitude of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Deg.

min .

sec.

h.

•min.

sec.

84

11

10

10

51

20

84

11

50

10

53

26

84

14

50

10

56

31

84

16

30

10

59

47

84

18

25

11

03

54

84

20

00

11

05

48

84

20

25

' 11

07

39

84

2-1

30

11

10

54

84

23

40

11

13

18

84

24

50

11

15

15

Time of chronometer.

Thermometer 63°.

Index error — — 1 min. 2 1 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

!

M|an time.

A

Latitude.

Peg. min.

sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min .

sec .

42 07

22

9 13 17

41

02

12

[ 174 ] 664

ENCAMPMENT ON THE EIGHT BANK OF THE MISSOURI RIVER
Determination of latitude, October 5, IS42 — altitude of Polaris <

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec. *

82

28

00

9

37

2S

82

30

00

9

40

55

82

32

40

9

43

55

82

35

10

9

47

51

82

37

40

9

51

13

Thermometer 69°.

Index error = — 1 min. 21 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg.

min. sec.

h.

min. sec.

Deg. min.

sec.

41

14 37

7

53 30

40 34

08

t

NOON HALT AT BERTHOLET’S ISLAND, MISSOURI RIVER.

Determination of latitude, October 6, 1S42— altitude of the sun in tht-

meridian .

Double altitude of the sun’s

True central altitude.

Latitude.

lower limb.

Deg. min. sec.

Deg. mm. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

88 16 55

44 22 55

40 27 08

Index error = — 1 min. 35 sec.

/

685

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE MISSOURI RIVER, MOUTH OF
THE NISHNABATONA RIVER.

Determination of time , October 6, 1842 — altitude of a Aquilx.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST SERIES.

SECOND

SERIES.

Double altitude

of a

Time of chronometer.

Double

: altitude

of a

Time of chronometer.

Aquilae.

Aquilae.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.]

min.

sec.

90

07

10

10

55

04.3

87

29

55

i 11

03

24.4

89

37

20

10

56

40.0

87

00

30

! n

04

52.0

89

09

15

10

58

06.0

86

30

25

1 '1

06

26.0

88

42

11

10

59

37.0

86

07

00

i u

07

41.0

88

08

30

11

01

20.0

I 85

1

33

40

1 11

09

18.6

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

h. min. sec. k.

9 1 1 50 1

Advance.

min.

50

Longitude.

sec.

24

666

C 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE MISSOURI, QUARTER OF A MILE
BELOW THE MOUTH OF NISHNABATONA RIVER.

Determination of latitude , October 6, 1842 — altitude of Polaris

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Deg.

min.

sec.

82

22

00

82

23

20

82

24

25

82

26

25

82

27

35

82

27

40

82

29

55

82

31

35

82

32

30

82

33

40

Time of chronometer.

h.

min.

sec.

10

12

50

10

15

06

10

17

04

10

18

55

10

20

32

10

22

02

10

24

09

10

27

13

10

29

42

10

31

59

Thermometer 47°.

Index error = — 1 min. 35 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

41 12 03

8 31 33

40 16 40

667

[ 174 ]

ENCAMPMENT ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE MISSOURI RIVER.
Determination of latitude , October S, 1842 — altitude of Polaris .

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of Polaris.

Time of chronometer.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

80

46

30

9

46

24

80

49

00

9

49

09

80

50

45

9

51

17

80

51

25

9

53

31

80

52

50

9

55

31

80

56

35

9

58

30

80

57

30

* 10

00

36

80

57

40

10

02

34

81

00

25

10

05

32

81

03

10

10

09

31

Thermometer 36°.

Index error = — 1 min. 21 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Mean time.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg. min. sec.

40 25 29

8 07 10

39 36 02

668

[ 174 ]

HALT AT THE MOUTH OF THE KANZAS RIVER, 700 FEET ABOVE THE
LEVEL OF THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of longitude, October 10, 1842 — altitude of the sun.

OBSERVATIONS.

FIRST

SERIES.

SKCOXD

SERIES.

Double altitude

of the

Time of chronometer.

Double altitude of the

Time of chronometer.

lower limb of the sun.

lower limb of the

sun.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

Deg.

min.

sec.

h.

min.

sec.

39

08

15

9

44

35.0

40

21

35

9

48

06.0

39

27

50

9

45

31.0

40

31

50

9

48

30.0

39

44

30

9

46

17.5

40

41

00

9

49

02.3

39

57

50

9

46

59.0

40

51

10

9

49

31.0

40

09

28

9

47

31.0

41

00

10

9

49

59.5

Index error := — 1 min. 7 sec.

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

Mean time.

Advance.

Longitude.

• h. min. tec.

i

h. min. sec.

Deg . min.

sec.

7 59 09

1 48 23

94 32

54

669

C W4 J

HALT AT THE MOUTH OF THE KANZAS RIVER, 700 FEET ABOVE THE
LEVEL OF THE GULF OF MEXICO.

Determination of latitude , October 107 1842 — sun’s altitude in the me -

ridian.

OBSERVATIONS.

Double altitude of the lower limb of the sun.

Time of chronometer.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

87 41 10

1 21 01

87 44 15

1 22 37

87 46 50

1 24 36

87 49 50

1 26 07

87 51 20

1 27 45

87 55 15

1 32 36

87 55 30

1 34 05

87 54 30

1 38 30

87 53 10

1 41 Of

87 51 15

1 43 11

87 49 05

t 44 56

87 46 15

1 46 40

87 43 20

1 48 35

87 38 30

1 50 51

RESULT OF CALCULATION.

True altitude.

Time of transit by chronometer.

Latitude.

Deg. min. sec.

h. min. sec.

Deg.

min. sec.

44 12 24

1 35 42

39

06 03

The foregoing observations are given in civil time.

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METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS.

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673

[ 174 ]

REMARKS.

The elevations which have been given in the coarse of the preceding
report are founded upon the annexed barometrical observations, and, it is
scarcely mossary tosay,are offered only as the best indications we have.
The barometers were compared with those of Dr. G. Engelman, of St.
Louis, Missouri, whose observations are given for a corresponding period.
The following is the result of forty comparative observations of three ba-
rometers instituted by him from May 22d to May 29th, 1S42, at St. Louis.
Range of barometers during that period 0".400, temperature 60° to 75°.
Barometer E, as observed for and noted in the journal of the academy :

= Fremont’s Troughton (T.) — 0'M36 = Fremont’s Carey (C.) — 0".178.

Range in the differences :

Mean E = Fremont’s Troughton (T.) — 0/M36 = Fremont’s Carey (C.) —

Minimum = do do — 0". 116 = do do O'M 67.

Maximum = do do — 0". 150= do do 0".190.

Range = do do 0".034 = do do 0".023.

In the annexed observations, the barometers, Troughton and Carey, are
designated respectively by the letters T. and C. In calculation, the obser-
vations at the upper stations were referred to the single ’corresponding
observation for the relative period of time at the lower station. It would,
perhaps, have been better to refer to the mean of the observations for the
month at the lower station. In calculation, the tables used were those of
Bessel and of Oltmauns, as given in Humboldt.

i

On the road from the mouth of the Kanzas to Fort Laramie.

[ 174 ] 674

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