FEBRUARY.

1st.--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 beautiful valley of the Sacramento,

with which they were familiar from the descriptions 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 informed them (and

long experience had given them confidence in my observations and good

instruments) that almost directly west, and only about 70 miles

distant, was the great farming establishment of Captain Sutter--a

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 cheerful obedience which had always characterized

them, and the day was immediately devoted to the preparations necessary

to enable us to carry it into effect. Leggins, moccasins, clothing--all

were put into the best state to resist the cold. Our guide was not

neglected. Extremity of suffering might make him desert; we therefore

did the best we could for him. Leggins, moccasins, 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

permission 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

observation, the latitude of this encampment was 38° 37' 18".

2d.--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 immediately above us. Crossing the river on the ice, and

leaving it immediately, 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 soon became 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. Leaving this stream, and pursuing a very direct

course, we passed over an intervening 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 supplied them with food and

fuel. We found two similar huts on the creek where we next arrived;

and, traveling 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.

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 camp and built huge fires.

To-day we had traveled 16 miles, and our elevation above the sea was

6,760 feet.

3d.--Turning our faces directly towards the main chain, we ascended an

open hollow along a small tributary to the river, which, according 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 the 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 hollow ascended to another basin in the mountain. The little stream

below 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

six feet in diameter.

There being no grass exposed here, the horses were sent back to that

which we had seen a few 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 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 with an open network

of bark.

4th.--I went ahead early with two or three men, each with a led horse

to break the road. We were obliged to abandon the hollow entirely, 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

outside the trail, and slided along the field to the bottom, a hundred

yards below. 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 distance of dividing ground between the two ridges, and beyond an

open basin, 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 timber of extraordinary size.

Towards a pass which the guide indicated here, we attempted in the

afternoon 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 enterprise seemed hopeless. I returned a short distance back, to

the break in the hollow, where I met Mr. Fitzpatrick.

The camp had been occupied all the day in endeavoring to ascend the

hill, but only the best horses had succeeded; the animals, generally,

not 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 immediately encamped on the ground with my own mess, which

was in advance, and directed Mr. Fitzpatrick to encamp at the springs,

and send all the animals, in 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,

immediately began to harangue us, saying that ourselves and animals

would perish in the snow; and that if we would go back, he would show

us another 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 his speech striking and not

unmusical.

We had now begun to understand some words, and, with the aid of signs,

easily comprehended the old man's simple ideas. "Rock upon rock--rock

upon rock--snow upon snow," said he; "even if you get over the snow,

you will not be able to get down from the mountains." 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 that led along their

sides. Our Chinook, who comprehended even more readily than ourselves,

and believed our situation hopeless, covered his head with his blanket,

and began to weep and lament. "I wanted to see the whites," 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.

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.

5th.--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.

I 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. The

day was perfectly clear, and, while the sun was in the sky, warm and

pleasant.

By observation our latitude was 38° 42' 26"; and elevation by the

boiling point, 7,400 feet.

6th.--Accompanied by Mr. Fitzpatrick, I set out to-day with a

reconnoitring party on snow-shoes. We marched all in single file,

trampling 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. "There," said he, "is the little mountain--it is fifteen years

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 imagined 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 drew 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 the camp one after another, at nightfall; the

greater number excessively fatigued, only two of the party having ever

traveled on snow-shoes before.

All our energies are now directed to getting our animals across the

snow; and it was supposed that after all the baggage had been drawn

with 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 five 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, remained behind, to form an

intermediate station between us and the animals.

8th.--The night has been extremely cold; but perfectly still, and

beautifully clear. Before the sun appeared this morning, the

thermometer was 3° below zero; 1° higher, when his rays struck the

lofty peaks; and 0° when they reached our camp.

Scenery and weather, combined, must render these mountains beautiful in

summer; the purity and deep-blue color of the sky are singularly

beautiful; 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 we would be delighted here; but our provisions are getting

fearfully scant. Sleighs arrived with baggage about ten 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 S.S.W.; 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.

Talbot, and Carson, with Jacob.

Elevation of the camp, by the boiling point, is 7,920 feet.

9th.--During the night the weather changed, the wind rising to a gale,

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 towards 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.

10th.--Taplin was sent back with a few men to assist Mr. Fitzpatrick;

and continuing on with three sleighs carrying a part of the baggage, we

had the satisfaction to encamp within two and a half miles 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; and 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 magnificent trees. Hemlock spruce is among the timber,

occasionally as large as eight feet in diameter, four feet above the

ground; but, in ascending, it tapers rapidly to less than one foot at

the height of eighty feet. I have not seen any higher than 130 feet,

and the slight upper part is frequently broken off by the wind. The

white spruce is frequent; and the red pine (_pinus colorado_ of the

Mexicans) which constitutes the beautiful forest along the banks of the

Sierra Nevada to the northward, is here the principal tree, not

attaining a greater height than 140 feet, though with sometimes 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 structure; 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.

11th.--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

patience 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.

12th.--We made mauls, and worked hard at our end of the road all 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 shouldered our mauls and trudged

back to camp.

13th.--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 snow-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, (Tlamath,) which he prepared in Indian fashion;

scorching off the hair, and washing the skin with soap and snow, and

then cutting 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.

14th.--The dividing ridge of the Sierra is in sight from this

encampment. Accompanied by Mr. Preuss, I ascended to-day the highest

peak to the right; from which we had a beautiful view of a mountain

lake at our feet, about fifteen miles in length, and so entirely

surrounded 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 distinguished 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 mountains, fading off blue in the distance. The

rock composing the summit consists 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 two hours 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.

I obtained to-night some observations; and the result from these, and

others made during our stay, gives for the latitude 38° 41' 57",

longitude 120° 25' 57", and rate of the chronometer 25.82".

16th.--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 traveled 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 tolerably 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, descending the mountain, we encamped on the

head-water of a little creek, where at last the water found its way to

the Pacific.

The night was clear and very long. We heard the cries of some wild

animals, which had been attracted by our fire, and a flock of geese

passed over during the night. Even these strange sounds 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 icy surface, over which we traveled to avoid the snow;

a few miles below we broke through, where the water was several feet

deep, and halted to make a fire and dry our clothes. We continued a few

miles farther, walking being very laborious without snow-shoes.

I was now perfectly satisfied that we had struck the stream on which

Mr. Sutler lived; and, turning about, made a hard push, and reached the

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 mountain; 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

traveled road from the Dalles to 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

encampment, 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 the Pass in the Sierra Nevada, which so well deserves its name of

Snowy mountain, is eleven degrees west and about four degrees south of

the South Pass.

21st.--We now considered ourselves victorious over the mountain; having

only the descent before us, and the valley under our eyes, we felt

strong hope that we should force our way down. But this was a case in

which the descent was _not_ facile. Still deep fields of snow lay

between them, and there was a large intervening space of rough-looking

mountains, through which we had yet to wind our way. Carson roused me

this 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 morning a scene at sunrise, which even here was

unusually glorious and beautiful. Immediately above the eastern

mountains was repeated a cloud-formed 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 supported

the animals, and encamped on the ridge, after a journey of six miles.

The grass was better than we had yet seen, and we were encamped in a

clump of trees 20 or 30 feet high, resembling white pine. With the

exception of these small clumps, the ridges were bare; and, where the

snow found the support of the trees, the wind had blown it up into

banks 10 or 15 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 occasional 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 enveloped in a thunder-storm. For

us, as connected with the idea of summer, it had a singular charm, and

we watched its progress with excited feelings until nearly sunset, when

the sky cleared off brightly, and we saw a shining line of water

directing its course towards another, a broader and larger sheet. We

knew that these could be no other than the Sacramento and the Bay of

San Francisco; but, after our long wandering in rugged mountains, where

so frequently we had met with disappointments, and where the crossing

of every ridge displayed some unknown lake or river, we were yet almost

afraid to believe that we were at last to escape into the genial

country of which we had heard so many glowing descriptions, and dreaded

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

remembered 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 impressions of water-courses.

We had the satisfaction to know that at least there were people below.

Fires were lit up in the valley just at night, appearing to be in

answer to ours; and these signs of life renewed, in some measure, the

gayety of the camp. They appeared so near, that we judged them to be

among the timber 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.

Among the very few plants that appeared here, was the common blue flax.

To-night a mule was killed for food.

22d.--Our breakfast was over long before day. We took advantage of 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

over the hard crust. Now and then the delay of making a road occasioned

much labor and loss of time. In the after 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

between 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.

23d.--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

afforded 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 _parflèche_ 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 _parflèche_ 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 current, and Carson,

thinking me hurt, jumped in after me, and we both had an icy bath. We

tried to search awhile for my gun, which had been lost in the fall, 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 roads with alternate horses, we reached

the creek in the evening, and encamped on a dry open place in the

ravine.

Another branch, which we had followed, here comes in on the left; and

from this point the mountain wall, on which we had traveled to-day,

faces to the south along the right bank of the river, where the sun

appears to have melted the snow; but the opposite ridge is entirely

covered. Here, among the pines, the 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.

24th.--We rose at three in the morning for an astronomical observation,

and obtained for the place a lat. of 38° 46' 58"; long. 120° 34' 20".

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 struck a footpath, which we were generally

able to keep; and the ground was soft to our animals' feet, being

sandy, or covered with mould. Green grass began to make its appearance,

and occasionally 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 very 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 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 with pines and snow; while on the side we were

traveling, innumerable rivulets poured down from the ridge. Continuing

on, we halted a moment at one of these rivulets, to admire some

beautiful evergreen-trees, 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 excitement, to escape entirely from the horrid

region of inhospitable snow, to the perpetual spring of the Sacramento.

When we had traveled 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, which 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.

25th.--Believing that the difficulties of the road were passed, and

leaving Mr. Fitzpatrick to follow slowly, as the condition of the

animals required, I started ahead this morning with a party of eight,

consisting of myself, Mr. Preuss and Mr. Talbot, Carson, Derosier,

Towns, Proue, and Jacob. We took with us some of the best animals, and

my intention 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 twelve miles, and encamped at some old Indian

huts, apparently a fishing-place on the river. The bottom was covered

with trees of deciduous foliage, and overgrown with vines and rushes.

On a bench of the hill near by, was a hill 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 on the unaccustomed food.

The forest was imposing to-day in the magnificence of the trees; some

of the pines, bearing large cones, were 10 feet in diameter. Cedars

also abounded, and we measured one 281/2 feet in circumference, four

feet from the ground. This noble tree seemed here to be in its proper

soil and climate. We found it on both sides of the Sierra, but most

abundant on the west.

26th.--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, which 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.

27th.--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 60 feet wide, 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

was 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

ascended by a steep spur 2,000 feet high. My favorite horse, Proveau,

had become very weak, and was scarcely able to bring himself to the

top. Traveling 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 with 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 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 frequent 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

30 feet wide, and I was engaged in getting the horses up the opposite

hill, when I heard a shout from Carson, who had gone ahead a few

hundred yards--"Life yet," said he, as he came up, "life yet; I have

found a hill-side sprinkled with grass enough for 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.

29th.--We lay shut up in the narrow ravine, and gave the animals a

necessary day; and men were sent back after the others. Derosier

volunteered to bring up Proveau, to whom he knew I was greatly

attached, as he had been my favorite horse on both expeditions. Carson

and I 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.