AUGUST.

1st.--The morning was calm and clear, with sunrise temperature at 42°.

We traveled to-day over a plain, or open rolling country, at the foot

of the Medicine Bow mountain; the soil in the morning being sandy, with

fragments of rock abundant, and in the afternoon, when we approached

closer to the mountain, so stony that we made but little way. The

beautiful plants of yesterday reappeared occasionally; flax in bloom

occurred during the morning, and esparcette in luxuriant abundance was

a characteristic of the stony ground in the afternoon. The camp was

roused into a little excitement by a chase after a buffalo bull, and an

encounter with a war party of Sioux and Cheyenne Indians about 30

strong. Hares and antelope were seen during the day, and one of the

latter was killed. The Laramie peak was in sight this afternoon. The

evening was clear, with scattered clouds; temperature 62°. The day's

journey was 26 miles.

2d.--Temperature at sunrise 52°, and scenery and weather made our road

to-day delightful. The neighboring mountain is thickly studded with

pines, intermingled with the brighter foliage of aspens, and occasional

spots like lawns between the patches of snow among the pines, and here

and there on the heights. Our route below lay over a comparative plain,

covered with the same brilliant vegetation, and the day was clear and

pleasantly cool. During the morning, we crossed many streams, clear and

rocky, and broad grassy valleys, of a strong black soil, washed down

from the mountains, and producing excellent pasturage. These were

timbered with the red willow and long-leaved cottonwood, mingled with

aspen, as we approached the mountain more nearly towards noon.

_Esparcette_ was a characteristic, and flax occurred frequently in

bloom. We halted at noon on the most western fork of Laramie river--a

handsome stream about sixty feet wide and two feet deep, with clear

water and a swift current, over a bed composed entirely of boulders or

roll-stones. There was a large open bottom here, on which were many

lodge poles lying about: and in the edge of the surrounding timber were

three strong forts, that appeared to have been recently occupied. At

this place I became first acquainted with the _yampah_, (_anethum

graveolens_,) which I found our Snake woman engaged in digging in the

low timbered bottom of the creek. Among the Indians along the Rocky

Mountains, and more particularly among the Shoshonee or Snake Indians,

in whose territory it is very abundant, this is considered the best

among the roots used for food. To us it was an interesting plant--a

little link between the savage and civilized life. Here, among the

Indians, its root is a common article of food, which they take pleasure

in offering to strangers; while with us, in a considerable portion of

America and Europe, the seeds are used to flavor soup. It grows more

abundantly, and in greater luxuriance, on one of the neighboring

tributaries of the Colorado, than in any other part of this region; and

on that stream, to which the Snakes are accustomed to resort every year

to procure a supply of their favorite plant, they have bestowed the

name of _Yampah_ river. Among the trappers it is generally known as

Little Snake river; but in this and other instances, where it

illustrated the history of the people inhabiting the country, I have

preferred to retain on the map the aboriginal name. By a meridional

observation, the latitude is 41° 45' 59"

In the afternoon we took our way directly across the spurs from the

point of the mountain, where we had several ridges to cross; and,

although the road was not rendered bad by the nature of the ground, it

was made extremely rough by the stiff tough bushes of _artemisia

tridentata_, [Footnote: The greater portion of our subsequent journey

was through a region where this shrub constituted the tree of the

country; and, as it will often be mentioned in occasional descriptions,

the word _artemisia_ only will be used, without the specific name.] in

this country commonly called sage.

This shrub now began to make its appearance in compact fields; and we

were about to quit for a long time this country of excellent pasturage

and brilliant flowers. Ten or twelve buffalo bulls were seen during the

afternoon; and we were surprised by the appearance of a large red ox.

We gathered around him as if he had been an old acquaintance, with all

our domestic feelings as much awakened as if we had come in sight of an

old farm-house. He had probably made his escape from some party of

emigrants on Green river; and, with a vivid remembrance of some old

green field, be was pursuing the straightest course for the frontier

that the country admitted. We carried him along with us as a prize;

and, when it was found in the morning that he had wandered off, I would

not let him be pursued, for I would rather have gone through a starving

time of three entire days, than let him be killed after he had

successfully run the gauntlet so far among the Indians. I have been

told by Mr. Bent's people of an ox born and raised at St. Vrain's fort,

which made his escape from them at Elm grove, near the frontier, having

come in that year with the wagons. They were on their way out, and saw

occasionally places where he had eaten and laid down to rest; but did

not see him for about 700 miles, when they overtook him on the road,

traveling along to the fort, having unaccountably escaped Indians and

every other mischance.

We encamped at evening on the principal fork of Medicine Bow river,

near to an isolated mountain called the Medicine _Butte_, which

appeared to be about 1,800 feet above the plain, from which it rises

abruptly, and was still white, nearly to its base, with a great

quantity of snow. The streams were timbered with the long-leaved,

cottonwood and red willow; and during the afternoon a species of onion

was very abundant. I obtained here an immersion of the first satellite

of Jupiter, which, corresponding very nearly with the chronometer,

placed us in longitude 106° 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.

3d.--There was a white frost last night; the morning is clear and cool.

We were early on the road, having breakfasted before sunrise, and in a

few miles' travel entered the pass of the Medicine _Butte_, through

which led a broad trail, which had been recently traveled by a very

large party. Immediately in the pass, the road was broken by ravines,

and we were obliged to clear a way through groves of aspens, which

generally made their appearance when we reached elevated regions.

According to the barometer, this was 8,300 feet; and while we were

detained in opening a road, I obtained a meridional observation of the

sun, which gave 41° 35' 48" for the latitude of the pass. The Medicine

_Butte_ is isolated by a small tributary of the North fork of the

Platte, but the mountains approach each other very nearly; the stream

running at their feet. On the south they are smooth, with occasional

streaks of pine; but the butte itself is ragged, with escarpments of

red feldspathic granite, and dark with pines; the snow reaching from

the summit to within a few hundred feet of the trail. The granite here

was more compact and durable than that in the formation which we had

passed through a few days before to the eastward of Laramie. Continuing

our way over a plain on the west side of the pass, where the road was

terribly rough with artemisia, we made our evening encampment on the

creek, where it took a northern direction, unfavorably to the course we

were pursuing. Bands of buffalo were discovered as we came down upon

the plain; and Carson brought into the camp a cow which had the fat on

the fleece two inches thick. Even in this country of rich pasturage and

abundant game, it is rare that a hunter chances upon a finer animal.

Our voyage had already been long, but this was the first good buffalo

meat we had obtained. We traveled to-day 26 miles.

4th.--The morning was clear and calm; and, leaving the creek, we

traveled towards the North fork of the Platte, over a plain which was

rendered rough and broken by ravines. With the exception of some thin

grasses, the sandy soil here was occupied almost exclusively by

artemisia, with its usual turpentine odor. We had expected to meet with

some difficulty in crossing the river, but happened to strike it where

there was a very excellent ford, and halted to noon on the left bank,

two hundred miles from St. Vrain's fort. The hunters brought in

pack-animals loaded with fine meat. According to our imperfect

knowledge of the country, there should have been a small affluent to

this stream a few miles higher up; and in the afternoon we continued

our way among the river hills, in the expectation of encamping upon it

in the evening. The ground proved to be so exceedingly difficult,

broken up into hills, terminating in escarpments and broad ravines,

five hundred or six hundred feet deep, with sides so precipitous that

we could scarcely find a place to descend, that, towards sunset, I

turned directly in towards the river, and, after nightfall, entered a

sort of ravine. We were obliged to feel our way, and clear a road in

the darkness; the surface being much broken, and the progress of the

carriages being greatly obstructed by the artemisia, which had a

luxuriant growth of four to six feet in height. We had scrambled along

this gulley for several hours, during which we had knocked off the

carriage-lamps, broken a thermometer and several small articles, when,

fearing to lose something of more importance, I halted for the night at

ten o'clock. Our animals were turned down towards the river, that they

might pick up what little grass they could find; and after a little

search, some water was found in a small ravine, and improved by

digging. We lighted up the ravine with fires of artemisia, and about

midnight sat down to a supper which we were hungry enough to find

delightful--although the buffalo-meat was crusted with sand, and the

coffee was bitter with the wormwood taste of the artemisia leaves.

A successful day's hunt had kept our hunters occupied until late, and

they slept out, but rejoined us at daybreak, when, finding ourselves

only about a mile from the river, we followed the ravine down, and

camped in a cottonwood grove on a beautiful grassy bottom, where our

animals indemnified themselves for the scanty fare of the past night.

It was quite a pretty and pleasant place; a narrow strip of prairie,

about five hundred yards long, terminated at the ravine where we

entered by high precipitous hills closing in upon the river, and at the

upper end by a ridge of low rolling hills.

In the precipitous bluffs were displayed a succession of strata

containing fossil vegetable remains, and several beds of coal. In some

of the beds the coal did not appear to be perfectly mineralized, and in

some of the seams it was compact, and remarkably lustrous. In these

latter places, there were also thin layers of a very fine white salts,

in powder. As we had a large supply of meat in the camp, which it was

necessary to dry, and the surrounding country appeared to be well

stocked with buffalo, which it was probable, after a day or two, we

would not see again until our return to the Mississippi waters, I

determined to make here a provision of dried meat, which would be

necessary for our subsistence in the region we were about entering,

which was said to be nearly destitute of game. Scaffolds were

accordingly soon erected, fires made, and the meat cut into thin slices

to be dried; and all were busily occupied, when the camp was thrown

into a sudden tumult, by a charge from about seventy mounted Indians,

over the low hills at the upper end of the little bottom. Fortunately,

the guard, who was between them and our animals, had caught a glimpse

of an Indian's head, as he raised himself in his stirrups to look over

the hill, a moment before he made the charge, and succeeded in turning

the band into the camp, as the Indians charged into the bottom with the

usual yell. Before they reached us, the grove on the verge of the

little bottom was occupied by our people, and the Indians brought to a

sudden halt, which they made in time to save themselves from a howitzer

shot, which would undoubtedly have been very effective in such a

compact body; and further proceedings were interrupted by their signs

for peace. They proved to be a war party of Arapaho and Cheyenne

Indians, and informed us that they had charged upon the camp under the

belief that we were hostile Indians, and had discovered their mistake

only at the moment of the attack--an excuse which policy required us to

receive as true, though under the full conviction that the display of

our little howitzer, and our favorable position in the grove, certainly

saved our horses, and probably ourselves, from their marauding

intentions. They had been on a war party, and had been defeated, and

were consequently in the state of mind which aggravates their innate

thirst for plunder and blood. Their excuse, however, was taken in good

part, and the usual evidences of friendship interchanged. The pipe went

round, provisions were spread, and the tobacco and goods furnished the

customary presents, which they look for even from traders, and much

more from government authorities.

They were returning from an expedition against the Shoshonee Indians,

one of whose villages they had surprised, at Bridger's fort, on Ham's

fork of Green river, (in the absence of the men, who were engaged in an

antelope surround,) and succeeded in carrying off their horses, and

taking several scalps. News of the attack reached the Snakes

immediately, who pursued and overtook them, and recovered their horses;

and, in the running fight which ensued, the Arapahoes had lost several

men killed, and a number wounded, who were coming on more slowly with a

party in the rear. Nearly all the horses they had brought off were the

property of the whites at the fort. After remaining until nearly

sunset, they took their departure; and the excitement which their

arrival had afforded subsided into our usual quiet, a little enlivened

by the vigilance rendered necessary by the neighborhood of our

uncertain visiters. At noon the thermometer was at 75°, at sunset 70°,

and the evening clear. Elevation above the sea 6,820 feet; latitude 41°

36' 00"; longitude 107° 22' 27".

6th.--At sunrise the thermometer was 46°, the morning being clear and

calm. We traveled to-day over an extremely rugged country, barren and

uninteresting--nothing to be seen but artemisia bushes; and, in the

evening, found a grassy spot among the hills, kept green by several

springs, where we encamped late. Within a few hundred yards was a very

pretty little stream of clear cool water, whose green banks looked

refreshing among the dry, rocky hills. The hunters brought in a fat

mountain sheep, (_ovis montana_.)

Our road the next day was through a continued and dense field of

_artemisia_, which now entirely covered the country in such a luxuriant

growth that it was difficult and laborious for a man on foot to force

his way through, and nearly impracticable for our light carriages. The

region through which we were traveling was a high plateau, constituting

the dividing ridge between the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific

oceans, and extending to a considerable distance southward, from the

neighborhood of the Table rock, at the southern side of the South Pass.

Though broken up into rugged and rocky hills of a dry and barren

nature, it has nothing of a mountainous character; the small streams

which occasionally occur belonging neither to the Platte nor the

Colorado, but losing themselves either in the sand or in small lakes.

From an eminence, in the afternoon, a mountainous range became visible

in the north, in which were recognised some rocky peaks belonging to

the range of the Sweet Water valley; and, determining to abandon any

further attempt to struggle through this almost impracticable country,

we turned our course directly north, towards a pass in the valley of

the Sweet Water river. A shaft of the gun-carriage was broken during

the afternoon, causing a considerable delay; and it was late in an

unpleasant evening before we succeeded in finding a very poor

encampment, where there was a little water in a deep trench of a creek,

and some scanty grass among the shrubs. All the game here consisted of

a few straggling buffalo bulls, and during the day there had been but

very little grass, except in some green spots where it had collected

around springs or shallow lakes. Within fifty miles of the Sweet Water,

the country changed into a vast saline plain, in many places extremely

level, occasionally resembling the flat sandy beds of shallow lakes.

Here the vegetation consisted of a shrubby growth, among which were

several varieties of _chenopodiaceous_ plants; but the characteristic

shrub was _Fremontia vermicularis_, with smaller saline shrubs growing

with singular luxuriance, and in many places holding exclusive

possession of the ground.

On the evening of the 8th we encamped on one of these fresh-water

lakes, which the traveler considers himself fortunate to find; and the

next day, in latitude, by observation, 42° 20' 06", halted to noon

immediately at the foot of the southern side of the range which walls

in the Sweet Water valley, on the head of a small tributary to that

river.

Continuing in the afternoon our course down the stream, which here cuts

directly through the ridge, forming a very practicable pass, we entered

the valley; and, after a march of about nine miles, encamped on our

familiar river, endeared to us by the acquaintance of the previous

expedition--the night having already closed in with a cold rain-storm.

Our camp was about twenty miles above the Devil's gate, which we had

been able to see in coming down the plain; and, in the course of the

night, the clouds broke away around Jupiter for a short time; during

which we obtained an emersion of the first satellite, the result of

which agreed very nearly with the chronometer, giving for the mean

longitude 107° 50' 07"; elevation above the sea 6,040 feet; and

distance from St. Vrain's fort, by the road we had Just traveled, 315

miles.

Here passes the road to Oregon; and the broad smooth highway, where the

numerous heavy wagons of the emigrants had entirely beaten and crushed

the artemisia, was a happy exchange to our poor animals, for the sharp

rocks and tough shrubs among which they had been toiling so long; and

we moved up the valley rapidly and pleasantly. With very little

deviation from our route of the preceding year, we continued up the

valley; and on the evening of the 12th encamped on the Sweet Water, at

a point where the road turns off to cross to the plains of Green river.

The increased coolness of the weather indicated that we had attained a

greater elevation, which the barometer here placed at 7,220 feet; and

during the night water froze in the lodge.

The morning of the 13th was clear and cold, there being a white-frost,

and the thermometer, a little before sunrise, standing at 26.5°.

Leaving this encampment, (our last on the waters which flow towards the

rising sun,) we took our way along the upland, towards the dividing

ridge which separates the Atlantic from the Pacific waters, and crossed

it by a road some miles further south than the one we had followed on

our return in 1842. We crossed very near the Table mountain, at the

southern extremity of the South Pass, which is near twenty miles in

width, and already traversed by several different roads. Selecting, as

well as I could, in the scarcely distinguishable ascent, what might be

considered the dividing ridge in this remarkable depression in the

mountain, I took a barometrical observation, which gave 7,490 feet for

the elevation above the Gulf of Mexico. You will remember that, in my

report of 1842, I estimated the elevation of this pass at about 7,000

feet; a correct observation with a good barometer enables me to give it

with more precision. Its importance, as the great gate through which

commerce and traveling may hereafter pass between the valley of the

Mississippi and the North Pacific, justifies a precise notice of its

locality and distance from leading points, in addition to this

statement of its elevation. As stated in the report of 1842, its

latitude, at the point where we crossed, is 42° 24' 32"; its longitude

109° 26' 00"; its distance from the mouth of the Kansas, by the common

traveling route, 962 miles; from the mouth of the Great Platte, along

the valley of that river, according to our survey of 1842, 882 miles;

and its distance from St. Louis about 400 miles more by the Kansas, and

about 700 by the Great Platte route; these additions being steamboat

conveyance in both instances. From this pass to the mouth of the Oregon

is about 1,400 miles by the common traveling route; so that under a

general point of view, it may be assumed to be about half-way between

the Mississippi and the Pacific ocean, on the common traveling route.

Following a hollow of slight and easy descent, in which was very soon

formed a little tributary to the Gulf of California, (for the waters

which flow west from the South Pass go to this gulf,) we made our usual

halt four miles from the pass, in latitude, by observation, 42° 19'

53". Entering here the valley of Green river--the great Colorado of the

West--and inclining very much to the southward along the streams which

form the Sandy river, the road led for several days over dry and level

uninteresting plains; to which a low scrubby growth of artemisia gave a

uniform dull grayish color; and on the evening of the 15th we encamped

in the Mexican territory, on the left bank of Green river, 69 miles

from the South Pass, in longitude 110° 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.

16th.--Crossing the river, here about 400 feet wide, by a very good

ford, we continued to descend for seven or eight miles on a pleasant

road along the right bank of the stream, of which the islands and

shores are handsomely timbered with cottonwood. The refreshing

appearance of the broad river, with its timbered shores and green

wooded islands, in contrast to its dry and sandy plains, probably

obtained for it the name of Green river, which was bestowed on it by

the Spaniards who first came into this country to trade some 25 years

ago. It was then familiarly known as the Seeds-ke-dee-agie, or Prairie

Hen (_tetrao urophasianus_) river; a name which it received from the

Crows, to whom its upper waters belong, and on which this bird is still

very abundant. By the Shoshonee and Utah Indians, to whom belongs, for

a considerable distance below, the country where we were now traveling,

it was called the Bitter Root river, from a great abundance in its

valley of a plant which affords them one of their favorite roots. Lower

down, from Brown's hole to the southward, the river runs through lofty

chasms, walled in by precipices of _red_ rock; and even among the

wilder tribes which inhabit that portion of its course, I have heard it

called by Indian refugees from the California settlements the Rio

_Colorado_. We halted to noon at the upper end of a large bottom, near

some old houses, which had been a trading post, in lat. 41° 46' 54". At

this place the elevation of the river above the sea is 6,230 feet. That

of Lewis's fork of the Columbia at Fort Hall is, according to our

subsequent observations, 4,500 feet. The descent of each stream is

rapid, but that of the Colorado is but little known, and that little

derived from vague report. Three hundred miles of its lower part, as it

approaches the Gulf of California, is reported to be smooth and

tranquil; but its upper part is manifestly broken into many falls and

rapids. From many descriptions of trappers, it is probable that in its

foaming course among its lofty precipices it presents many scenes of

wild grandeur; and though offering many temptations, and often

discussed, no trappers have been found bold enough to undertake a

voyage which has so certain a prospect of a fatal termination. The

Indians have strange stories of beautiful valleys abounding with

beaver, shut up among inaccessible walls of rock in the lower course of

the river; and to which the neighboring Indians, in their occasional

wars with the Spaniards and among themselves, drive their herds of

cattle and flocks of sheep, leaving them to pasture in perfect security.

The road here leaves the river, which bends considerably to the east;

and in the afternoon we resumed our westerly course, passing over a

somewhat high and broken country; and about sunset, after a day's

travel of 26 miles, reached Black's fork of the Green river--a shallow

stream, with a somewhat sluggish current, about 120 feet wide, timbered

principally with willow, and here and there an occasional large tree.

At three in the morning I obtained an observation of an emersion of the

first satellite of Jupiter, with other observations. The heavy wagons

have so completely pulverized the soil, that clouds of fine light dust

are raised by the slightest wind, making the road sometimes very

disagreeable.

17th.--Leaving our encampment at six in the morning, we traveled along

the bottom, which is about two miles wide, bordered by low hills, in

which the strata contained handsome and very distinct vegetable

fossils. In a gully a short distance farther up the river, and

underlying these, was exposed a stratum of an impure or argillaceous

limestone. Crossing on the way Black's fork, where it is one foot deep

and forty wide, with clear water and a pebbly bed, in nine miles we

reached Ham's fork, a tributary to the former stream, having now about

sixty feet breadth, and a few inches depth of water. It is wooded with

thickets of red willow, and in the bottom is a tolerably strong growth

of grass. The road here makes a traverse of twelve miles across a bend

of the river. Passing in the way some remarkable hills, two or three

hundred feet high, with frequent and nearly vertical escarpments of a

green stone, consisting of an argillaceous carbonate of lime,

alternating with strata of an iron-brown limestone, and worked into

picturesque forms by wind and rain, at two in the afternoon we reached

the river again, having made to-day 21 miles. Since crossing the great

dividing ridge of the Rocky mountains, plants have been very few in

variety, the country being covered principally with artemisia.

18th.--We passed on the road, this morning, the grave of one of the

emigrants, being the second we had seen since falling into their trail;

and halted to noon on the river, a short distance above.

The Shoshonee woman took leave of us here, expecting to find some of

her relations at Bridger's fort, which is only a mile or two distant,

on a fork of this stream. In the evening we encamped on a salt creek,

about fifteen feet wide, having to-day traveled 32 miles.

I obtained an emersion of the first satellite under favorable

circumstances, the night being still and clear.

One of our mules died here, and in this portion of our journey we lost

six or seven of our animals. The grass which the country had lately

afforded was very poor and insufficient; and animals which have been

accustomed to grain become soon weak and unable to labor, when reduced

to no other nourishment than grass. The American horses (as those are

usually called which are brought to this country from the States) are

not of any serviceable value until after they have remained a winter in

the country, and become accustomed to live entirely on grass.

19th.--Desirous to avoid every delay not absolutely necessary, I sent

on Carson in advance to Fort Hall this morning, to make arrangements

for a small supply of provisions. A few miles from our encampment, the

road entered a high ridge, which the trappers called the "little

mountain," connecting the Utah with the Wind River chain; and in one of

the hills near which we passed I remarked strata of a conglomerate

formation, fragments of which were scattered over the surface. We

crossed a ridge of this conglomerate, the road passing near a grove of

low cedar, and descending upon one of the heads of Ham's fork, called

Muddy, where we made our mid-day halt. In the river hills at this

place, I discovered strata of fossiliferous rock, having an _oolitic

structure_, which, in connection with the neighboring strata, authorize

us to believe that here, on the west side of the Rocky mountains, we

find repeated the modern formations of Great Britain and Europe, which

have hitherto been wanting to complete the system of North American

geology.

In the afternoon we continued our road, and searching among the hills a

few miles up the stream, and on the same bank, I discovered, among the

alternate beds of coal and clay, a stratum of white indurated clay,

containing very clear and beautiful impressions of vegetable remains.

This was the most interesting fossil locality I had met in the country,

and I deeply regretted that time did not permit me to remain a day or

two in the vicinity; but I could not anticipate the delays to which I

might be exposed in the course of our journey--or, rather, I knew that

they were many and inevitable; and after remaining here only about an

hour, I hurried off, loaded with as many specimens as I could

conveniently carry.

Coal made its appearance occasionally in the hills during the

afternoon, and was displayed in rabbit burrows in a kind of gap,

through which we passed over some high hills, and we descended to make

our encampment on the same stream, where we found but very poor grass.

In the evening a fine cow, with her calf, which had strayed off from

some emigrant party, was found several miles from the road, and brought

into camp; and as she gave an abundance of milk, we enjoyed to-night an

excellent cup of coffee. We traveled to-day 28 miles, and, as has been

usual since crossing the Green river, the road has been very dusty, and

the weather smoky and oppressively hot. Artemisia was characteristic

among the few plants.

20th.--We continued to travel up the creek by a very gradual ascent and

a very excellent grassy road, passing on the way several small forks of

the stream. The hills here are higher, presenting escarpments of

party-colored and apparently clay rocks, purple, dark-red, and yellow,

containing strata of sandstone and limestone with shells, with a bed of

cemented pebbles, the whole overlaid by beds of limestone. The

alternation of red and yellow gives a bright appearance to the hills,

one of which was called by our people the Rainbow hill, and the

character of the country became more agreeable, and traveling far more

pleasant, as now we found timber and very good grass. Gradually

ascending, we reached the lower level of a bed of white limestone,

lying upon a white clay, on the upper line of which the whole road is

abundantly supplied with beautiful cool springs, gushing out a foot in

breadth and several inches deep, directly from the hill-side.

At noon we halted at the last main fork of the creek, at an elevation

of 7,200 feet, and in latitude, by observation, 41° 39' 45"; and in the

afternoon continued on the same excellent road, up the left or northern

fork of the stream, towards its head, in a pass which the barometer

placed at 8,230 feet above the sea. This is a connecting ridge between

the Utah or Bear River mountains and the Wind River chain of the Rocky

mountains, separating the waters of the Gulf of California on the east,

and those on the west belonging more directly to the Pacific, from a

vast interior basin whose rivers are collected into numerous lakes

having no outlet to the ocean. From the summit of this pass, the

highest which the road crosses between the Mississippi and the Western

ocean, our view was over a very mountainous region, whose rugged

appearance was greatly increased by the smoky weather, through which

the broken ridges were dark and dimly seen. The ascent to the summit of

the gap was occasionally steeper than the national road in the

Alleghanies; and the descent, by way of a spur on the western side, is

rather precipitous, but the pass may still be called a good one. Some

thickets of the willow in the hollows below deceived us into the

expectation of finding a camp at our usual hour at the foot of the

mountain; but we found them without water, and continued down a ravine,

and encamped about dark at a place where the springs began again to

make their appearance, but where our animals fared badly; the stock of

the emigrants having razed the grass as completely as if we were again

in the midst of the buffalo.

21st.--An hour's travel this morning brought us into the fertile and

picturesque valley of Bear river, the principal tributary to the Great

Salt lake. The stream is here two hundred feet wide, fringed with

willows and occasional groups of hawthorns. We were now entering a

region which, for us, possessed a strange and extraordinary interest.

We were upon the waters of the famous lake which forms a salient point

among the remarkable geographical features of the country, and around

which the vague and superstitious accounts of the trappers had thrown a

delightful obscurity, which we anticipated pleasure in dispelling, but

which, in the mean time, left a crowded field for the exercise of our

imagination.

In our occasional conversations with the few old hunters who had

visited the region, it had been a subject of frequent speculation; and

the wonders which they related were not the less agreeable because they

were highly exaggerated and impossible.

Hitherto this lake had been seen only by trappers who were wandering

through the country in search of new beaver-streams, caring very little

for geography; its islands had never been visited; and none were to be

found who had entirely made the circuit of its shores; and no

instrumental observations or geographical survey, of any description,

had ever been made anywhere in the neighboring region. It was generally

supposed that it had no visible outlet; but among the trappers,

including those in my own camp, were many who believed that somewhere

on its surface was a terrible whirlpool, through which its waters found

their way to the ocean by some subterranean communication. All these

things had made a frequent subject of discussion in our desultory

conversations around the fires at night; and my own mind had become

tolerably well filled with their indefinite pictures, and insensibly

colored with their romantic descriptions, which, in the pleasure of

excitement, I was well disposed to believe, and half expected to

realize.

Where we descended into this beautiful valley, it is three to four

miles in breadth, perfectly level, and bounded by mountainous ridges,

one above another, rising suddenly from the plain.

We continued our road down the river, and at night encamped with a

family of emigrants--two men, women, and several children--who appeared

to be bringing up the rear of the great caravan. I was struck with the

fine appearance of their cattle, some six or eight yoke of oxen, which

really looked as well as if they had been all the summer at work on

some good farm. It was strange to see one small family traveling along

through such a country, so remote from civilization. Some nine years

since, such a security might have been a fatal one, but since their

disastrous defeats in the country a little north, the Blackfeet have

ceased to visit these waters. Indians however, are very uncertain in

their localities; and the friendly feelings, also, of those now

inhabiting it may be changed.

According to barometrical observation at noon, the elevation Of the

valley was 6,400 feet above the sea; and our encampment at night in

latitude 42° 03' 47", and longitude 111° 10' 53", by observation--the

day's journey having been 26 miles. This encampment was therefore

within the territorial limit of the United States; our traveling, from

the time we entered the valley of the Green river, on the 15th of

August, having been south of the 42d degree of north latitude, and

consequently on Mexican territory; and this is the route all the

emigrants now travel to Oregon.

The temperature at sunset was 65°; and at evening there was a distant

thunder-storm, with a light breeze from the north.

Antelope and elk were seen during the day on the opposite prairie; and

there were ducks and geese in the river.

The next morning, in about three miles from our encampment, we reached

Smith's fork, a stream of clear water, about 50 feet in breadth. It is

timbered with cottonwood, willow, and aspen, and makes a beautiful

debouchement through a pass about 600 yards wide, between remarkable

mountain hills, rising abruptly on either side, and forming gigantic

columns to the gate by which it enters Bear River valley. The bottoms,

which below Smith's fork had been two miles wide, narrowed as we

advanced to a gap 500 yards wide, and during the greater part of the

day we had a winding route, the river making very sharp and sudden

bends, the mountains steep and rocky, and the valley occasionally so

narrow as only to leave space for a passage through.

We made our halt at noon in a fertile bottom, where the common blue

flax was growing abundantly, a few miles below the mouth of Thomas's

fork, one of the larger tributaries of the river.

Crossing, in the afternoon, the point of a narrow spur, we descended

into a beautiful bottom, formed by a lateral valley, which presented a

picture of home beauty that went directly to our hearts. The edge of

the wood, for several miles along the river, was dotted with the white

covers of emigrant wagons, collected in groups at different camps,

where the smoke was rising lazily from the fires, around which the

women were occupied in preparing the evening meal, and the children

playing in the grass; and herds of cattle, grazing about in the bottom,

had an air of quiet security, and civilized comfort, that made a rare

sight for the traveler in such a remote wilderness.

In common with all the emigration, they had been reposing for several

days in this delightful valley, in order to recruit their animals on

its luxuriant pasturage after their long journey, and prepare them for

the hard travel along the comparatively sterile banks of the Upper

Columbia. At the lower end of this extensive bottom, the river passes

through an open canon, where there were high vertical rocks to the

water's edge, and the road here turns up a broad valley to the right.

It was already near sunset; but, hoping to reach the river again before

night, we continued our march along the valley, finding the road

tolerably good, until we arrived at a point where it crosses the ridge

by an ascent of a mile in length, which was so very steep and difficult

for the gun and carriage, that we did not reach the summit until dark.

It was absolutely necessary to descend into the valley for water and

grass; and we were obliged to grope our way in the darkness down a very

steep, bad mountain, reaching the river at about ten o'clock. It was

late before our animals were gathered into the camp, several of those

which were very weak being necessarily left to pass the night on the

ridge; and we sat down again to a midnight supper. The road, in the

morning, presented an animated appearance. We found that we had

encamped near a large party of emigrants; and a few miles below,

another party was already in motion. Here the valley had resumed its

usual breadth, and the river swept off along the mountains on the

western side, the road continuing directly on.

In about an hour's travel we met several Shoshonee Indians, who

informed us that they belonged to a large village which had just come

into the valley from the mountain to the westward, where they had been

hunting antelope and gathering service-berries. Glad at the opportunity

of seeing one of their villages, and in the hope of purchasing from

them a few horses, I turned immediately off into the plain towards

their encampment, which was situated on a small stream near the river.

We had approached within something more than a mile of the village,

when suddenly a single horseman emerged from it at full speed, followed

by another and another in rapid succession; and then party after party

poured into the plain, until, when the foremost rider reached us, all

the whole intervening plain was occupied by a mass of horsemen, which

came charging down upon us with guns and naked swords, lances, and bows

and arrows--Indians entirely naked, and warriors fully dressed for war,

with the long red streamers of their war-bonnets reaching nearly to the

ground, all mingled together in the bravery of savage warfare. They had

been thrown into a sudden tumult by the appearance of our flag, which,

among these people, is regarded as an emblem of hostility--it being

usually borne by the Sioux and the neighboring mountain Indians, when

they come here to war; and we had, accordingly been mistaken for a body

of their enemies. A few words from the chief quieted the excitement;

and the whole band, increasing every moment in number, escorted us to

their encampment, where the chief pointed out a place for us to encamp,

near his own lodge, and we made known our purpose in visiting the

village. In a very short time we purchased eight horses, for which we

gave in exchange blankets, red and blue cloth, beads, knives, and

tobacco, and the usual other articles of Indian traffic. We obtained

from them also a considerable quantity of berries, of different kinds,

among which service-berries were the most abundant; and several kinds

of roots and seeds, which we could eat with pleasure, as any kind of

vegetable food was gratifying to us. I ate here, for the first time,

the _kooyah_, or _tobacco-root_, (_valeriana edulis_,)--the principal

edible root among the Indians who inhabit the upper waters of the

streams on the western side of the mountains. It has a very strong and

remarkably peculiar taste and odor, which I can compare to no other

vegetable that I am acquainted with, and which to some persons is

extremely offensive. It was characterized by Mr. Preuss as the most

horrid food he had ever put in his mouth; and when, in the evening, one

of the chiefs sent his wife to me with a portion which she had prepared

as a delicacy to regale us, the odor immediately drove him out of the

lodge; and frequently afterwards he used to beg that when those who

liked it had taken what they desired, it might be sent away. To others,

however, the taste is rather an agreeable one; and I was afterwards

glad when it formed an addition to our scanty meals. It is full of

nutriment; and in its unprepared state is said by the Indians to have

very strong poisonous qualities, of which it is deprived by a peculiar

process, being baked in the ground for about two days.

The morning of the 24th was disagreeably cool, with an easterly wind,

and very smoky weather. We made a late start from the village, and,

regaining the road, (on which, during all the day, were scattered the

emigrant wagons,) we continued on down the valley of the river,

bordered by high and mountainous hills, on which fires are seen at the

summit. The soil appears generally good, although, with the grasses,

many of the plants are dried up, probably on account of the great heat

and want of rain. The common blue flax of cultivation, now almost

entirely in seed--only a scattered flower here and there remaining--is

the most characteristic plant of the Bear River valley. When we

encamped at night, on the right bank of the river, it was growing as in

a sown field. We had traveled during the day twenty-two miles,

encamping in latitude (by observation) 42° 36' 56", chronometric

longitude 111° 42' 05".

In our neighborhood the mountains appeared extremely rugged, giving

still greater value to this beautiful natural pass.

25th.--This was a cloudless but smoky autumn morning, with a cold wind

from the southeast, and a temperature of 45° at sunrise. In a few miles

I noticed, where a little stream crossed the road, fragments of

_scoriated basalt_ scattered about--the first volcanic rock we had

seen, and which now became a characteristic rock along our future road.

In about six miles' travel from our encampment, we reached one of the

points in our journey to which we had always looked forward with great

interest--the famous _Beer springs_. The place in which they are

situated is a basin of mineral waters enclosed by the mountains, which

sweep around a circular bend of Bear river, here at its most northern

point, and which, from a northern, in the course of a few miles

acquires a southern direction towards the GREAT SALT LAKE. A pretty

little stream of clear water enters the upper part of the basin, from

an open valley in the mountains, and, passing through the bottom,

discharges into Bear river. Crossing this stream, we descended a mile

below, and made our encampment in a grove of cedar immediately at the

Beer springs, which, on account of the effervescing gas and acid taste,

have received their name from the voyageurs and trappers of the

country, who, in the midst of their rude and hard lives, are fond of

finding some fancied resemblance to the luxuries they rarely have the

fortune to enjoy.

Although somewhat disappointed in the expectations which various

descriptions had led me to form of unusual beauty of situation and

scenery, I found it altogether a place of very great interest; and a

traveler for the first time in a volcanic region remains in a constant

excitement, and at every step is arrested by something remarkable and

new. There is a confusion of interesting objects gathered together in a

small space. Around the place of encampment the Beer springs were

numerous; but, as far as we could ascertain, were confined entirely to

that locality in the bottom. In the bed of the river, in front, for a

space of several hundred yards, they were very abundant; the

effervescing gas rising up and agitating the water in countless

bubbling columns. In the vicinity round about were numerous springs of

an entirely different and equally marked mineral character. In a rather

picturesque spot about 1,300 yards below our encampment, and

immediately on the river bank, is the most remarkable spring of the

place. In an opening on the rock, a white column of scattered water is

thrown up, in form like a _jet-d'eau_, to a variable height of about

three feet, and, though it is maintained in a constant supply, its

greatest height is only attained at regular intervals, according to the

action of the force below. It is accompanied by a subterranean noise,

which, together with the motion of the water, makes very much the

impression of a steamboat in motion; and, without knowing that it had

been already previously so called, we gave to it the name of the

_Steamboat spring_. The rock through which it is forced is slightly

raised in a convex manner, and gathered at the opening into an

urn-mouthed form, and is evidently formed by continued deposition from

the water, and colored bright red by oxide of iron. An analysis of this

deposited rock, which I subjoin, will give you some idea of the

properties of the water, which, with the exception of the Beer springs,

is the mineral water of the place. [Footnote: ANALYSIS. Carbonate of

lime - - - 92.55 Carbonate of magnesia - 0.42 Oxide of iron - - - - -

1.05

Silica- - - - - -} Alumina - - - - -}- - - 5.98 Water and loss- -}

_______

100.00]

It is a hot spring, and the water has a pungent and disagreeable

metallic taste, leaving a burning effect on the tongue. Within perhaps

two yards of the _jet-d'eau_ is a small hole of about an inch in

diameter, through which, at regular intervals, escapes a blast of hot

air, with a light wreath of smoke, accompanied by a regular noise. This

hole had been noticed by Dr. Wislizenus, a gentleman who had several

years since passed by this place, and who remarked, with very nice

observation, that smelling the gas which issued from the orifice

produced a sensation of giddiness and nausea. Mr. Preuss and myself

repeated the observation, and were so well satisfied with its

correctness, that we did not find it pleasant to continue the

experiment, as the sensation of giddiness which it produced was

certainly strong and decided. A huge emigrant wagon, with a large and

diversified family had overtaken us and halted to noon at our

encampment; and, while we were sitting at the spring, a band of boys

and girls, with two or three young men, came up, one of whom I asked to

stoop down and smell the gas, desirous to satisfy myself further of its

effects. But his natural caution had been awakened by the singular and

suspicious features of the place, and he declined my proposal

decidedly, and with a few indistinct remarks about the devil, whom he

seemed to consider the _genius loci_. The ceaseless motion and the play

of the fountain, the red rock and the green trees near, make this a

picturesque spot.

A short distance above the spring, and near the foot of the same spur,

is a very remarkable, yellow-colored rock, soft and friable, consisting

principally of carbonate of lime and oxide of iron, of regular

structure, which is probably a fossil coral. The rocky bank along the

shore between the Steamboat spring and our encampment, along which is

dispersed the water from the hills, is composed entirely of strata of a

calcareous _tufa_, with the remains of moss and reed-like grasses,

which is probably the formation of springs. The _Beer_ or _Soda

springs_, which have given name to this locality, are agreeable, but

less highly flavored than the Boiling springs at the foot of Pike's

peak, which are of the same character. They are very numerous, and half

hidden by tufts of grass, which we amused ourselves in removing and

searching about for more highly impregnated springs. They are some of

them deep, and of various sizes--sometimes several yards in diameter,

and kept in constant motion by columns of escaping gas. By analysis,

one quart of the water contains as follows:

Grains.

Sulphate of magnesia------------ 12.10 Sulphate of lime----------------

2.12 Carbonate of lime--------------- 3.86 Carbonate of

magnesia----------- 3.22 Chloride of calcium------------- 1.33

Chloride of magnesium----------- 1.12 Chloride of sodium--------------

2.24 Vegetable extractive matter, &c-- 0.85

_____

26.84

The carbonic acid, originally contained in the water, had mainly

escaped before it was subjected to analysis; and it was not, therefore,

taken into consideration.

In the afternoon I wandered about among the cedars, which occupy the

greater part of the bottom towards the mountains. The soil here has a

dry and calcined appearance; in some places, the open grounds are

covered with saline efflorescences, and there are a number of

regularly-shaped and very remarkable hills, which are formed of a

succession of convex strata that have been deposited by the waters of

extinct springs, the orifices of which are found on their summits, some

of them having the form of funnel-shaped cones. Others of these

remarkably-shaped hills are of a red-colored earth, entirely bare, and

composed principally of carbonate of lime, with oxide of iron, formed

in the same manner. Walking near one of them, on the summit of which

the springs were dry, my attention was attracted by an underground

noise, around which I circled repeatedly, until I found the spot from

beneath which it came; and, removing the red earth, discovered a hidden

spring, which was boiling up from below, with the same disagreeable

metallic taste as the Steamboat spring. Continuing up the bottom, and

crossing the little stream which has been already mentioned, I visited

several remarkable red and white hills, which had attracted my

attention from the road in the morning. These are immediately upon the

stream, and, like those already mentioned, are formed by the deposition

of successive strata from the springs. On their summits, the orifices

through which the waters had been discharged were so large, that they

resembled miniature craters, being some of them several feet in

diameter, circular, and regularly formed as if by art. At a former

time, when these dried-up fountains were all in motion, they must have

made a beautiful display on a grand scale; and nearly all this basin

appears to me to have been formed under their action, and should be

called the _place of fountains_. At the foot of one of these hills, or

rather on its side near the base, are several of these small limestone

columns, about one foot in diameter at the base, and tapering upwards

to a height of three or four feet; and on the summit the water is

boiling up and bubbling over, constantly adding to the height of the

little obelisks. In some, the water only boils up, no longer

overflowing, and has here the same taste as at the Steamboat spring.

The observer will remark a gradual subsidence in the water, which

formerly supplied the fountains; as on all the summits of the hills the

springs are now dry, and are found only low down upon their sides, or

on the surrounding plain.

A little higher up the creek its banks are formed by strata of very

heavy and hard scoriaceous basalt, having a bright metallic lustre when

broken. The mountains overlooking the plain are of an entirely

different geological character. Continuing on, I walked to the summit

of one of them, where the principal rock was a granular quartz.

Descending the mountains, and returning towards the camp along the base

of the ridge which skirts the plain, I found, at the foot of a mountain

spur, and issuing from a compact rock of a dark blue color, a great

number of springs having the same pungent and disagreeably metallic

taste already mentioned, the water of which was collected into a very

remarkable basin, whose singularity, perhaps, made it appear to me very

beautiful. It is large--perhaps fifty yards in circumference; and in it

the water is contained, at an elevation of several feet above the

surrounding ground, by a wall of calcareous _tufa_, composed

principally of the remains of mosses, three or four, and sometimes ten

feet high. The water within is very clear and pure, and three or four

feet deep, where it could be measured, near the wall; and at a

considerably low level, is another pond or basin of very clear water,

and apparently of considerable depth, from the bottom of which the gas

was escaping in bubbling columns at many places. This water was

collected into a small stream, which, in a few hundred yards, sank

under ground, reappearing among the rocks between the two great springs

near the river, which it entered by a little fall.

Late in the afternoon I set out on my return to the camp, and, crossing

in the way a large field of salt that was several inches deep, found on

my arrival that our emigrant friends, who had been encamped in company

with us, had resumed their journey, and the road had again assumed its

solitary character. The temperature of the largest of the _Beer_

springs at our encampment was 65° at sunset, that of the air being

62.5°. Our barometric observation gave 5,840 feet for the elevation

above the gulf, being about 500 feet lower than the Boiling springs,

which are of a similar nature, at the foot of Pike's peak. The

astronomical observations gave for our latitude 42° 39' 57", and 111°

46' 00" for the longitude. The night was very still and cloudless, and

I sat up for an observation of the first satellite of Jupiter, the

emersion of which took place about midnight; but fell asleep at the

telescope, awaking just a few minutes after the appearance of the star.

The morning of the 26th was calm, and the sky without clouds, but

smoky, and the temperature at sunrise 28.5°. At the same time, the

temperature 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 traveled a short distance

down the river, and halted to noon on the bank, at a point where the

road quits the valley of Bear river, and, crossing a ridge which

divides the Great basin from the Pacific waters, reaches Fort Hall, by

way of the Portneuf river, in a distance of probably fifty miles, or

two and a half days' journey for wagons. An examination of the great

lake which is the outlet of this river, and the principal feature of

geographical interest in the basin, was one of the main objects

contemplated in the general plan of our survey, and I accordingly

determined at this place to leave the road, and, after having completed

a reconnoissance of the lake, regain it subsequently at Fort Hall. But

our little stock of provisions had again become extremely low; we had

only dried meat sufficient for one meal, and our supply of flour and

other comforts was entirely exhausted. I therefore immediately

dispatched one of the party, Henry Lee, with a note to Carson, at Fort

Hall, directing him to load a pack-horse with whatever could be

obtained there in the way of provisions, and endeavor to overtake me on

the river. In the mean time, we had picked up along the road two

tolerably well-grown calves, which would have become food for wolves,

and which had probably been left by some of the earlier emigrants, none

of those we had met having made any claim to them; and on these I

mainly relied for support during our circuit to the lake.

In sweeping around the point of the mountain which runs down into the

bend, the river here passes between perpendicular walls of basalt,

which always fix the attention, from the regular form in which it

occurs, and its perfect distinctness from the surrounding rocks among

which it had been placed. The mountain, which is rugged and steep, and,

by our measurement, 1,400 feet above the river directly opposite the

place of our halt, is called the _Sheep-rock_--probably because a flock

of the mountain sheep (_ovis montana_) had been seen on the craggy

point.

As we were about resuming our march in the afternoon, I was attracted

by the singular appearance of an isolated hill with a concave summit,

in the plain, about two miles from the river, and turned off towards

it, while the camp proceeded on its way southward in search of the

lake. I found the thin and stony soil of the plain entirely underlaid

by the basalt which forms the river walls; and when I reached the

neighborhood of the hill, the surface of the plain was rent into

frequent fissures and chasms of the same scoriated volcanic rock, from

40 to 60 feet deep, but which there was not sufficient light to

penetrate entirely, and which I had not time to descend. Arrived at the

summit of the hill, I found that it terminated in a very perfect

crater, of an oval, or nearly circular form, 360 paces in

circumference, and 60 feet at the greatest depth. The walls, which were

perfectly vertical, and disposed like masonry in a very regular manner,

were composed of a brown-colored scoriaceous lava, similar to the light

scoriaceous lava of Mt. Etna, Vesuvius, and other volcanoes. The faces

of the walls were reddened and glazed by the fire, in which they had

been melted, and which had left them contorted and twisted by its

violent action.

Our route luring the afternoon was a little rough, being (in the

direction we had taken) over a volcanic plain, where our progress was

sometimes obstructed by fissures, and black beds, composed of fragments

of the rock. On both sides, the mountains appeared very broken, but

tolerably well timbered.

Crossing a point of ridge which makes in to the river, we fell upon it

again before sunset, and encamped on the right bank, opposite to the

encampment of three lodges of Snake Indians. They visited us during the

evening, and we obtained from them a small quantity of roots of

different kinds, in exchange for goods. Among them was a sweet root of

very pleasant flavor, having somewhat the taste of preserved quince. My

endeavors to become acquainted with the plants which furnish to the

Indians a portion of their support, were only gradually successful, and

after long and persevering attention; and even after obtaining, I did

not succeed in preserving them until they could be satisfactorily

determined. In this portion of the journey, I found this particular

root cut up into small pieces, that it was only to be identified by its

taste, when the bulb was met with in perfect form among the Indians

lower down on the Columbia, among whom it is the highly celebrated

kamas. It was long afterwards, on our return through Upper California,

that I found the plant itself in bloom, which I supposed to furnish the

kamas root, (_camassia esculenta_.) The root diet had a rather mournful

effect at the commencement, and one of the calves was killed this

evening for food. The animals fared well on rushes.

27th.--The morning was cloudy, with appearance of rain, and the

thermometer at sunrise at 29°. Making an unusually early start, we

crossed the river at a good ford; and, following for about three hours

a trail which led along the bottom, we entered a labyrinth of hills

below the main ridge, and halted to noon in the ravine of a pretty

little stream, timbered with cottonwood of a large size, ash-leaved

maple, with cherry and other shrubby trees. The hazy weather, which had

prevented any very extended views since entering the Green River

valley, began now to disappear. There was a slight rain in the earlier

part of the day, and at noon, when the thermometer had risen to 79.5°,

we had a bright sun, with blue sky and scattered _cumuli_. According to

the barometer, our halt there among the hills was at an elevation of

5,320 feet. Crossing a dividing ridge in the afternoon, we followed

down another little Bear River tributary, to the point where it emerged

on an open green flat among the hills, timbered with groves, and

bordered with cane thickets, but without water. A pretty little rivulet

coming out of the hillside, and overhung by tall flowering plants of a

species I had not hitherto seen, furnished us with a good

camping-place. The evening was cloudy, the temperature at sunset 69°,

and the elevation 5,140 feet. Among the plants occurring along the road

during the day, _epinettes des prairies_ (grindelia squarraso) was in

considerable abundance, and is among the very few plants remaining in

bloom--the whole country having now an autumnal appearance, in the

crisp and yellow plants, and dried-up grasses. Many cranes were seen

during the day, with a few antelope, very shy and wild.

28th.--During the night we had a thunder-storm, with moderate rain,

which has made the air this morning very clear, the thermometer being

at 55°. Leaving our encampment at the _Cane spring_, and quitting the

trail on which we had been traveling, and which would probably have

afforded us a good road to the lake, we crossed some very deep ravines,

and, in about an hour's traveling, again reached the river. We were now

in a valley five or six miles wide, between mountain ranges, which,

about thirty miles below, appeared to close up and terminate the

valley, leaving for the river only a very narrow pass, or canon, behind

which we imagined we would find the broad waters of the lake. We made

the usual halt at the mouth of a small clear stream, having a slightly

mineral taste, (perhaps of salt,) 4,760 feet above the gulf. In the

afternoon we climbed a very steep sandy hill; and after a slow and

winding day's march of 27 miles, encamped at a slough on the river.

There were great quantities of geese and, ducks, of which only a few

were shot; the Indians having probably made them very wild. The men

employed themselves in fishing but caught nothing. A skunk, (_mephitis

Americana_,) which was killed in the afternoon, made a supper for one

of the messes. The river is bordered occasionally with fields of cane,

which we regarded as an indication of our approach to a lake-country.

We had frequent showers of rain during the night, with thunder.

29th.--The thermometer at sunrise was 54°, with air from the NW., and

dark rainy clouds moving on the horizon; rain squalls and bright

sunshine by intervals. I rode ahead with Basil to explore the country,

and, continuing about three miles along the river, turned directly off

on a trail running towards three marked gaps in the bordering range,

where the mountains appeared cut through their bases, towards which the

river plain rose gradually. Putting our horses into a gallop on some

fresh tracks which showed very plainly in the wet path, we came

suddenly upon a small party of Shoshonee Indians, who had fallen into

the trail from the north. We could only communicate by signs; but they

made us understand that the road through the chain was a very excellent

one, leading into a broad valley which ran to the southward. We halted

to noon at what may be called the gate of the pass; on either side of

which were huge mountains of rock, between which stole a little pure

water stream, with a margin just sufficiently large for our passage.

From the river, the plain had gradually risen to an altitude of 5,500

feet, and, by meridian observation, the latitude of the entrance was

42°.

In the interval of our usual halt, several of us wandered along up the

stream to examine the pass more at leisure. Within the gate, the rocks

receded a little back, leaving a very narrow, but most beautiful

valley, through which the little stream wound its way, hidden by the

different kinds of trees and shrubs--aspen, maple, willow, cherry, and

elder; a fine verdure of smooth short grass spread over the remaining

space to the bare sides of the rocky walls. These were of a blue

limestone, which constitutes the mountain here; and opening directly on

the grassy bottom were several curious caves, which appeared to be

inhabited by root-diggers. On one side was gathered a heap of leaves

for a bed, and they were dry, open, and pleasant. On the roofs of the

caves I remarked bituminous exudations from the rock.

The trail was an excellent one for pack-horses; but as it sometimes

crossed a shelving point, to avoid the shrubbery we were obliged in

several places to open a road for the carriage through the wood. A

squaw on horseback, accompanied by five or six dogs, entered the pass

in the afternoon; but was too much terrified at finding herself in such

unexpected company to make any pause for conversation, and hurried off

at a good pace--being, of course, no further disturbed than by an

accelerating shout. She was well and showily dressed, and was probably

going to a village encamped somewhere near, and evidently did not

belong to the tribe of _root-diggers_. We now had entered a country

inhabited by these people; and as in the course of the voyage we shall

frequently meet with them in various stages of existence, it will be

well to inform you that, scattered over the great region west of the

Rocky mountains, and south of the Great Snake river, are numerous

Indians whose subsistence is almost solely derived from roots and

seeds, and such small animals as chance and great good fortune

sometimes bring within their reach. They are miserably poor, armed only

with bows and arrows, or clubs; and, as the country they inhabit is

almost destitute of game, they have no means of obtaining better arms.

In the northern part of the region just mentioned, they live generally

in solitary families; and farther to the south they are gathered

together in villages. Those who live together in villages, strengthened

by association, are in exclusive possession of the more genial and

richer parts of the country; while the others are driven to the ruder

mountains, and to the more inhospitable parts of the country. But by

simply observing, in accompanying us along our road, you will become

better acquainted with these people than we could make you in any other

than a very long description, and you will find them worthy of your

interest.

Roots, seeds, and grass, every vegetable that affords any nourishment,

and every living animal thing, insect or worm, they eat. Nearly

approaching to the lower animal creation, their sole employment is to

obtain food; and they are constantly occupied in struggling to support

existence.

The most remarkable feature of the pass is the _Standing rock_, which

has fallen from the cliffs above, and standing perpendicularly near the

middle of the valley, presents itself like a watch-tower in the pass.

It will give you a tolerably correct idea of the character of the

scenery in this country, where generally the mountains rise abruptly up

from comparatively unbroken plains and level valleys; but it will

entirely fail in representing the picturesque beauty of this delightful

place, where a green valley, full of foliage and a hundred yards wide,

contrasts with naked crags that spire up into a blue line of pinnacles

3,000 feet above, sometimes crested with cedar and pine, and sometimes

ragged and bare.

The detention that we met with in opening the road, and perhaps a

willingness to linger on the way, made the afternoon's travel short;

and about two miles from the entrance, we passed through another gate,

and encamped on the stream at the junction of a little fork from the

southward, around which the mountains stooped more gently down, forming

a small open cove.

As it was still early in the afternoon, Basil and myself in one

direction, and Mr. Preuss in another, set out to explore the country,

and ascended different neighboring peaks, in the hope of seeing some

indications of the lake; but though our elevation afforded magnificent

views, the eye ranging over a large extent of Bear river, with the

broad and fertile _Cache valley_ in the direction of our search, was

only to be seen a bed of apparently impracticable mountains. Among

these, the trail we had been following turned sharply to the northward,

and it began to be doubtful if it would not lead us away from the

object of our destination; but I nevertheless determined to keep it, in

the belief that it would eventually bring us right. A squall of rain

drove us out of the mountain, and it was late when we reached the camp.

The evening closed in with frequent showers of rain, with some

lightning and thunder.

30th.--We had constant thunder-storms during the night, but in the

morning the clouds were sinking to the horizon, and the air was clear

and cold, with the thermometer at sunrise at 39°. Elevation by

barometer 5,580 feet. We were in motion early, continuing up the little

stream without encountering any ascent where a horse would not easily

gallop; and, crossing a slight dividing ground at the summit, descended

upon a small stream, along which continued the same excellent road. In

riding through the pass, numerous cranes were seen; and prairie hens,

or grouse, (_bonasia umbellus_,) which lately had been rare, were very

abundant.

This little affluent brought us to a larger stream, down which we

traveled through a more open bottom, on a level road, where

heavily-laden wagons could pass without obstacle. The hills on the

right grew lower, and, on entering a more open country, we discovered a

Shoshonee village; and being desirous to obtain information, and

purchase from them some roots and berries, we halted on the river,

which was lightly wooded with cherry, willow, maple, service-berry, and

aspen. A meridian observation of the sun, which I obtained here, gave

42° 14' 22" for our latitude, and the barometer indicated a height of

5,170 feet. A number of Indians came immediately over to visit us, and

several men were sent to the village with goods, tobacco, knives,

cloth, vermilion, and the usual trinkets, to exchange for provisions.

But they had no game of any kind; and it was difficult to obtain any

roots from them, as they were miserably poor, and had but little to

spare from their winter stock of provisions. Several of the Indians

drew aside their blankets, showing me their lean and bony figures; and

I would not any longer tempt them with a display of our merchandise to

part with their wretched subsistence, when they gave as a reason that

it would expose them to temporary starvation. A great portion of the

region inhabited by this nation, formerly abounded in game--the buffalo

ranging about in herds, as we had found them on the eastern waters, and

the plains dotted with scattered bands of antelope; but so rapidly have

they disappeared within a few years, that now, as we journeyed along,

an occasional buffalo skull and a few wild antelope were all that

remained of the abundance which had covered the country with animal

life.

The extraordinary rapidity with which the buffalo is disappearing from

our territories will not appear surprising when we remember the great

scale on which their destruction is yearly carried on. With

inconsiderable exceptions, the business of the American trading-posts

is carried on in their skins; every year the Indian villages make new

lodges, for which the skin of the buffalo furnishes the material; and

in that portion of the country where they are still found, the Indians

derive their entire support from them, and slaughter them with a

thoughtless and abominable extravagance. Like the Indians themselves,

they have been a characteristic of the Great West; and as, like them,

they are visibly diminishing, it will be interesting to throw a glance

backward through the last twenty years, and give some account of their

former distribution through the country, and the limit of their western

range.

The information is derived principally from Mr. Fitzpatrick, supported

by my own personal knowledge and acquaintance with the country. Our

knowledge does not go farther back than the spring of 1824, at which

time the buffalo were spread in immense numbers over the Green River

and Bear River valleys, and through all the country lying between the

Colorado, or Green river of the Gulf of California, and Lewis's fork of

the Columbia river; the meridian of Fort Hall then forming the western

limit of their range. The buffalo then remained for many years in that

country, and frequently moved down the valley of the Columbia, on both

sides of the river as far as the _Fishing falls_. Below this point they

never descended in any numbers. About the year 1834 or 1835 they began

to diminish very rapidly, and continued to decrease until 1838 or 1840,

when, with the country we have just described, they entirely abandoned

all the waters of the Pacific north of Lewis's fork of the Columbia. At

that time, the Flathead Indians were in the habit of finding their

buffalo on the heads of Salmon river, and other streams of the

Columbia; but now they never meet with them farther west than the three

forks of the Missouri, or the plains of the Yellow-stone river.

In the course of our journey it will be remarked that the buffalo have

not so entirely abandoned the waters of the Pacific, in the

Rocky-Mountain region south of the Sweet Water, as in the country north

of the Great Pass. This partial distribution can only be accounted for

in the great pastoral beauty of that country, which bears marks of

having been one of their favorite haunts, and by the fact that the

white hunters have more frequented the northern than the southern

region--it being north of the South Pass that the hunters, trappers,

and traders, have had their rendezvous for many years past; and from

that section also the greater portion of the beaver and rich furs were

taken, although always the most dangerous as well as the most

profitable hunting-ground.

In that region lying between the Green or Colorado river and the

head-waters of the Rio del Norte, over the _Yampah, Kooyah, White_, and

_Grand_ rivers--all of which are the waters of the Colorado--the

buffalo never extended so far to the westward as they did on the waters

of the Columbia; and only in one or two instances have they been known

to descend as far west as the mouth of White river. In traveling

through the country west of the Rocky mountains, observation readily

led me to the impression that the buffalo had, for the first time,

crossed that range to the waters of the Pacific only a few years prior

to the period we are considering; and in this opinion I am sustained by

Mr. Fitzpatrick, and the older trappers in that country. In the region

west of the Rocky mountains, we never meet with any of the ancient

vestiges which, throughout all the country lying upon their eastern

waters, are found in the _great highways_, continuous for hundreds of

miles, always several inches, and sometimes several feet in depth,

which the buffalo have made in crossing from one river to another, or

in traversing the mountain ranges. The Snake Indians, more particularly

those low down upon Lewis's fork, have always been very grateful to the

American trappers, for the great kindness (as they frequently expressed

it) which they did to them, in driving the buffalo so low down the

Columbia river.

The extraordinary abundance of the buffalo on the east side of the

Rocky mountains, and their extraordinary diminution, will be made

clearly evident from the following statement: At any time between the

years 1824 and 1836, a traveler might start from any given point south

or north in the Rocky Mountain range, journeying by the most direct

route to the Missouri river; and, during the whole distance, his road

would always be among large bands of buffalo, which would never be out

of his view until he arrived almost within sight of the abodes of

civilization.

At this time, the buffalo occupy but a very limited space, principally

along the eastern base of the Rocky mountains, sometimes extending at

their southern extremity to a considerable distance into the plains

between the Platte and Arkansas rivers, and along the eastern frontier

of New Mexico as far south as Texas.

The following statement, which I owe to the kindness of Mr. Sanford, a

partner in the American Fur Company, will further illustrate this

subject, by extensive knowledge acquired during several years of travel

through the region inhabited by the buffalo:

"The total amount of robes annually traded by ourselves and others will

not be found to differ much from the following statement:

Robes.

American Fur Company 70,000 Hudson's Bay Company

10,000 All other companies, probably 10,000

-------

Making a total of 90,000 as an average annual return

for the last eight or ten years.

"In the northwest, the Hudson's Bay Company purchase from the Indians

but a very small number--their only market being Canada, to which the

cost of transportation nearly equals the produce of the furs; and it is

only within a very recent period that they have received buffalo robes

in trade; and out of the great number of buffalo annually killed

throughout the extensive region inhabited by the Camanches and other

kindred tribes, no robes whatever are furnished for trade. During only

four months of the year, (from November until March,) the skins are

good for dressing; those obtained in the remaining eight months are

valueless to traders; and the hides of bulls are never taken off or

dressed as robes at any season. Probably not more than one-third of the

skins are taken from the animals killed, even when they are in good

season, the labor of preparing and dressing the robes being very great;

and it is seldom that a lodge trades more than twenty skins in a year.

It is during the summer months, and in the early part of autumn, that

the greatest number of buffalo are killed, and yet at this time a skin

is never taken for the purpose of trade."

From these data, which are certainly limited, and decidedly within

bounds, the reader is left to draw his own inference of the immense

number annually killed.

In 1842, I found the Sioux Indians of the Upper Platte _demontes_, as

their French traders expressed it, with the failure of the buffalo; and

in the following year, large villages from the Upper Missouri came over

to the mountains at the heads of the Platte, in search of them. The

rapidly progressive failure of their principal, and almost their only

means of subsistence, has created great alarm among them; and at this

time there are only two modes presented to them, by which they see a

good prospect for escaping starvation: one of these is to rob the

settlements along the frontier of the States; and the other is to form

a league between the various tribes of the Sioux nation, the Cheyennes,

and Arapahoes, and make war against the Crow nation, in order to take

from them their country, which is now the best buffalo country in the

west. This plan they now have in consideration; and it would probably

be a war of extermination, as the Crows have long been advised of this

state of affairs, and say that they are perfectly prepared. These are

the best warriors in the Rocky mountains, and are now allied with the

Snake Indians; and it is probable that their combination would extend

itself to the Utahs, who have long been engaged in war against the

Sioux. It is in this section of country that my observation formerly

led me to recommend the establishment of a military post.

The farther course of our narrative will give fuller and more detailed

information of the present disposition of the buffalo in the country we

visited.

Among the roots we obtained here, I could distinguish only five or six

different kinds; and the supply of the Indians whom we met consisted

principally of yampah, (_anethum graveolens_,) tobacoo-root,

(_valeriana_,) and a large root of a species of thistle, (_circium

Virginianum_,) which now is occasionally abundant and is a very

agreeably flavored vegetable.

We had been detained so long at the village, that in the afternoon we

made only five miles, and encamped on the same river after a day's

journey of 19 miles. The Indians informed us that we should reach the

big salt water after having slept twice and traveling in a south

direction. The stream had here entered nearly a level plain or valley,

of good soil, eight or ten miles broad, to which no termination was to

be seen, and lying between ranges of mountains which, on the right,

were grassy and smooth, unbroken by rock, and lower than on the left,

where they were rocky and bald, increasing in height to the southward.

On the creek were fringes of young willows, older trees being rarely

found on the plains, where the Indians burn the surface to produce

better grass. Several magpies (_pica Hudsopica_) were seen on the creek

this afternoon; and a rattlesnake was killed here, the first which had

been seen since leaving the eastern plains. Our camp to-night had such

a hungry appearance that I suffered the little cow to be killed, and

divided the roots and berries among the people. A number of Indians

from the village encamped near.

The weather the next morning was clear, the thermometer at sunrise at

44.5°; and, continuing down the valley, in about five miles we followed

the little creek of our encampment to its junction with a larger

stream, called _Roseaux_, or Reed river. Immediately opposite, on the

right, the range was gathered into its highest peak, sloping gradually

low, and running off to a point apparently some forty or fifty miles

below. Between this (now become the valley stream) and the foot of the

mountains, we journeyed along a handsome sloping level, which frequent

springs from the hills made occasionally miry, and halted to noon at a

swampy spring, where there were good grass and abundant rushes. Here

the river was forty feet wide, with a considerable current, and the

valley a mile and a half in breadth; the soil being generally good, of

a dark color, and apparently well adapted to cultivation. The day had

become bright and pleasant, with the thermometer at 71°. By

observation, our latitude was 41° 59' 31", and the elevation above the

sea 4,670 feet. On our left, this afternoon, the range at long

intervals formed itself into peaks, appearing to terminate, about forty

miles below, in a rocky cape, beyond which several others were faintly

visible; and we were disappointed when, at every little rise, we did

not see the lake. Towards evening, our way was somewhat obstructed by

fields of _artemisia_, which began to make their appearance here, and

we encamped on the Roseaux, the water of which had acquired a decidedly

salt taste, nearly opposite to a canon gap in the mountains, through

which the Bear river enters this valley. As we encamped, the night set

in dark and cold, with heavy rain, and the artemisia, which was our

only wood, was so wet that it would not burn. A poor, nearly starved

dog, with a wound in his side from a ball, came to the camp, and

remained with us until the winter, when he met a very unexpected fate.