17. This morning we had the Nevadas to climb; this is the point which
will stop the Pacific Railroad on this route, if anything will do it.
This rise is said to be 9000 feet in 13 miles. After climbing the first
mountain we descended to a lake, which is the head of one of the
branches of the Sacramento. It is the crater of an extinguished
volcano. The next mountain, the Snowy Peak, is still worse than the
last, although both for most part of the way are as steep as the roof
of a house; in climbing it our road lay over the snow, which was 20
feet deep for 80 rods up its side. Having reached the top of the snowy
peaks, we took a cut-off, descended about two miles and camped at a
small brook where we found good grass. We had the good fortune to shoot
three woodchucks [groundhogs,] this evening which, in addition to three
lbs. of flour we coaxed out of a Californian, made us feel as rich as
the Rothschilds. We have not eaten for the last two weeks (all of us)
as much as one man would have eaten if he could have had all that he
required, consequently we are living in the greatest luxury and
abundance to-night, having all we can eat. It does not take much to
make man happy after all; here we have been starving along for the last
month, crossing deserts, drinking rotten, alkali or salt water, or
deprived entirely, and now we've got to the top of the Nevadas, around
our camp fire amid snow drifts, with plenty of good water and three
woodchucks for three of us, and we are the happiest mortals alive; we
seem to have forgotten that we ever suffered privation.